Chapter Text
Firesday, Balogar 4, 1618
Therion sighed as he sat down next to Alfyn, the ale in his tankard sloshing as he set it on the tavern’s table. “Thank the gods H’aanit’s letting us have one evening before we go into the Whisperwood,” he muttered, taking a long sip.
Alfyn gave a short laugh as he ate a spoonful of lamb stew. Therion did the same. He was glad to have something warm to eat. The summer was finding its end, and the damp chill of the Highlands had begun to seep into his bones.
Therion looked around the tavern. All of the other travelers were sitting at a table in the center. They were all laughing as Olberic told a story about something, an amused expression on the warrior’s face. Alfyn would typically be cackling right there with them, but instead he had chosen a table off to the side.
“Alright, Alf. Spit it out. Why’d you come sit over here?”
Alfyn looked up from his bowl and at Therion. The apothecary was smiling. “I knew ya’d sit with me instead of them, and I wanted to talk to you without Tressa listenin’ in.”
Therion felt a twinge of panic at how predictable his behavior had become. But a part of him, deep in the back of his mind, whispered that it was okay for Alfyn to know him. That the apothecary was trustworthy. Therion tried to stamp out those thoughts. It was for his own safety that he ignored them.
“Well, what is there to talk about?” Therion asked, his tone harsher than he intended.
Alfyn looked slightly surprised at Therion’s aggressive tone too, but he covered it with another easy smile. “Have ya ever fallen in love with someone?”
Therion’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting the conversation to be anything like this. “Do you think I ever had the chance?”
Alfyn let out a bark of laughter. “I guess not.” He was staring down at his stew again.
Therion was quiet for a moment before he responded. “Who is it?”
“Primrose.”
Therion really shouldn’t have been surprised. Primrose was beautiful, after all, and she and Alfyn had found a comfortable friendship with each other. But he was still caught off guard.
“Why?”
Alfyn looked back at Therion. “She’s…incredible. She’s beautiful, and so smart, and just…when I’m around her, I just feel at peace. Does that make sense?”
Therion was surprised at the agreement that threatened to break out of him. He fought not to glance over at Ophilia. He took a drink of his ale, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Yeah, I guess.”
Alfyn looked over at Primrose. “I want her to be happy, Therion. She’s seen so much awful stuff…”
Therion scoffed. “You think you’re gonna fuck her up? You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She’d be lucky to be with you.”
Surprise flickered across Alfyn’s face at the kind words. “That’s kind of ya to say.”
Therion shrugged. “Don’t mention it.” He was only speaking the truth. Primrose was one of the few people who had been through worse shit than he had. He didn’t speak with her as much as he did some of the others, but she didn’t judge him for what he did or what he had done. And she understood betrayal too. The deep sadness in her eyes reflected what he sometimes saw in the mirror. But when Alfyn was with her, he saw some of that sadness and the walls she put up melt away.
Alfyn continued to eat his stew, Therion slowly sipping his ale. His thoughts eventually found their way to Ophilia. They always seemed to do that, ever since they had hidden in the alleyway together and even more since she had healed his wounds in Goldshore.
She had been talking with Cyrus on the way to Stonegard. Irritation prickled in him as he thought of her smiling and nodding along with whatever he had been saying. He tried to stamp those feelings down too, but it didn’t work.
He was so tired of feeling. He had been feeling so much recently. He felt sad, remembering his parents’ death. He felt tired of how he had let his guard down. He had felt happy having easy conversations with Alfyn. He felt like he was in love with Ophilia.
The realization hit like water rushing over him. Of course he was in love with her. He was just that stupid, wasn’t he? To fall in love not just with any girl, though that would be bad enough in its own right. No, he had to fall in love with a priestess. A priestess that was fucking beautiful and just incredible and on a sacred journey and who probably barely tolerated him.
His grip on the tankard tightened, his knuckles turning white. Alfyn looked over at him, concern spreading over his face. “You alright?” He asked, a drop of soup spilling out of his mouth.
“I’m fine,” Therion muttered as Alfyn wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I just…thought of something."
“Leaf for your thoughts,” Alfyn said, digging into his coinpurse. Therion took the coin Alfyn offered and slid it into the bag hanging against his hip.
“It’s about Ophilia,” Therion said after a beat. Alfyn’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropping open, but he quickly reverted his face to a more neutral expression.
“What about her?” Alfyn asked.
Therion swallowed the knot in his throat. He could trust Alfyn. He willed the thought to echo around in his head. He’d been traveling with the apothecary for three months now, and they’d been through shit those three months. So he opened his mouth and let the truth fall from his lips.
“I’ve fallen for her.”
Alfyn choked on the bite of stew he had been in the process of swallowing. Therion thumped him on the back as he began to cough. Primrose looked away from Ophilia and over at the two of them in concern.
“Is everything alright?” She asked.
Therion nodded. “Went down the wrong way.” Alfyn cleared his throat and wiped his face with his sleeve, frowning when dark blotches of soup began to stain the white fabric.
Alfyn waited until Primrose had turned away from the two of them to continue to talk to Therion. “You fell for Phili?”
Therion nodded slightly, staring at his warped reflection in his ale. “She…she’s something else, Alf. She’s kind to me even though I"m a jackass to her all the time. And she’s pretty.” The pale gold of her hair, the soft swoop of her nose, the curve of her lips. Her brown eyes that glimmered the color of toffee in the sunlight.
Alfyn smiled at him. “Hey, don’t act all somber. This is a cause for celebration!” Alfyn gestured at the bartender to bring them each another ale.
Therion let out a short laugh. “Sure you want to be drinking more the night before we go into the woods on a hunt?”
Alfyn laughed, an easy smile spreading over his face. “Hey, I can keep my drinks down. It’s you who I’d be worried about.”
Therion smirked. “I’ll let you keep wondering about how much I can take,” he said. He’d learned at fifteen that getting drunk led to people taking advantage of you. The scar below his floating rib ached as he recalled the cruel smirk of the man from the Cragspear tavern.
Alfyn shrugged. “More for me, then!”
The two settled into a comfortable silence as Alfyn began to drink his second ale. Therion excused himself to the inn when the apothecary started his third. As he left the tavern, he stole a glance at Ophilia from over his shoulder. Her hair practically glowed in the light of the tavern, a smile spread across her face as Primrose regaled the table with a story.
Therion turned away as he walked down towards the inn, the fall chill of the Highlands stinging his face. He pulled his parka up and continued to walk, the soles of his boots clicking against the harsh landscape.
And try as he might, the whole time he walked, he thought of her.