Heroes of Veritas: Bardic Inspiration (Book 2)

Chapter Eight: Manic Grunsday

The next few days were a jumble with the usual chaos of running a guild, compounded upon by the rush to make progress on their special quest. Then, there was also the slower, quieter work that took place in the evenings. The work of reconnecting with her Astredian was easier and more rewarding than Elise had thought possible.

Astredian was patient and easy to talk to, qualities that had made her fall in love with him in the first place. Long Eresdays spent riding, questing, and above all...talking. When had she lost track of that? She supposed it was easy to get caught up in things, and the busier she got the more closed off she always seemed to become. It was something she knew she needed to work on, and was happy to find that working on it didn’t feel all that much like work. Laying in bed discussing the events of the day, or their thoughts on the future, or chatting about their childhoods over morning coffee while they got ready to take on the day, it was these little things that filled her with the warmth and hope that she’d been sorely missing.

The combination of keeping busy and finding time to enjoy her partner’s company had done wonders for the troubadour’s mood. But, though she was starting to feel more like herself, she was also so caught up in the minutiae of keeping the guild ticking over that she lost track of a few things; namely, that she’d promised Moltar to find them a suitable archery trainer.

Luckily for Elise, Moltar was far too busy with his own tasks to bother giving her too much s**t. When it turned out that finding a sword master was more difficult than the oathbreaker had originally thought, he stopped complaining altogether. Shutting up when he was wrong, or when complaining would serve no purpose, was a lesson hard learned for Moltar. He still had a tendency to pop off without thinking - though he had mellowed considerably since Pita’s passing.

On Grunsday afternoon, Elise was sitting at the little table in the breakfast nook looking over some candidates to fill the post of archery trainer. She wore a mildly dissatisfied look on her face; she knew the solution to this problem, but she was still hung up on it. As she attempted to push through what she knew was a silly hang up, a different, tangentially related thought occurred to her. Just where were they going to put all these new people? 

The guild had barracks, it was true - but the barracks were starting to get a wee bit cramped. Not counting the recruits they were purposefully bringing in, the guild had seen a huge increase to the number of applicants they’d received since the end of the second desolation. If the guild was going to continue expanding at the rate they were, they would have to do something about the looming housing crisis. But, they also had the very serious problem of their sadly empty coffers to contend with. Elise tapped a finger against her lip, as she thought things through.

Then, she remembered something important. Something that had slipped the minds of the other guild leadership, and even the troubadour herself. The guild had land. All the land surrounding the village of Pounce now fell under the purview of the Dire Beavers. It wasn’t just theirs to defend; it was also theirs to parcel out and repurpose.

A slow smile crawled across Elise’s lips as her brain whirred into high gear. Numbers danced in her mind as she saw the perfect way to solve both their money and housing woes at the same time. Maybe they could even get some guildies power leveled through some crafting specialties into the bargain. Elise summoned a fresh sheet of paper onto the table in front of her, and dipped the pen that appeared in her hand into the jar of ink that soon followed.

By the time Elise finished her little project, dinner had long come and gone. Brida had listened patiently to the troubadour’s excited rambling as they prepared dinner for the guild, making small non-committal noises here and there that kept the monologue flowing, though they really had no idea what the woman was going on about. Elise barely registered the meal, despite having emptied the steaming bowl of hearty chili magically appeared in front of her while she worked. If anyone had asked her what was in the chili, she would not have been able to say. In fact, she didn’t actually know she’d eaten chili, just that she’d consumed enough to quiet her complaining stomach.

The simple budget she’d been tasked to produce had, by the end of her feverish descent into the realm of hyperfocus, turned into a full blown five year business-style plan for the guild. It had a detailed budget for the next year, a simplified budget for the following four years, and appendices outlining the various initiatives the guild was likely to undertake within that time period. There were separate breakdowns for not just the estimated costs of said initiatives, but the proposed rules and regulations for their implementation.

When Astredian finally poked his head into the kitchen to check on her, the troubadour was just adding the finishing touches to the ribbon binding she’d made for the sheaf of papers she’d compiled. It was at least an inch thick.

“Ellie, are you ok?” Astredian asked, noting the slightly manic glint in the troubadour’s eye.

It wasn’t exactly an unusual expression for Elise to be wearing. Astredian had certainly seen that look before. She’d looked like that the first time he saw her in the grand crafting hall of Veritasia City, when they’d been putting together the materials for their original guild hall. It was a look that both excited and worried the paladin.

“I’m more than ok.” Elise said, smiling sweetly at him. She was practically vibrating with excitement. “I think I figured out how we’re going to make everything work.” 

Astredian felt his lips quirk up into a small smile. “Really? And, I suppose, you want to walk me through it right now.” 

Elise’s eyes grew saucer like as she looked up at him. “Do you have the time? Cause...”

Astredian reached out and took the sheaf of papers from her hands, chuckling softly. “I don’t, and neither do you. It’s past midnight. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Elise deflated, but after a few minutes of grumbling she dislodged herself from the breakfast nook and followed along after Astredian, who took the business plan with him as he headed through the dining room, into the main hall, then up the stairs to his quarters. Elise tottered a bit on the stairs as the tiredness finally hit her, and barely managed to make it into the bed before her eyes started drooping.

When Astredian slid into the bed beside her, she gravitated automatically toward his warmth. The days were growing longer and warmer now, but it was still chilly in the evenings, making her crave a bit of a cuddle before sleep.

“How was your day?” the troubadour asked, suppressing a yawn.

Astredian didn’t bother, yawning hugely, though he did have the good grace to cover his mouth with his hand as he did so. “Ahhhnn...it was alright. I sat in on Larkin’s interviews today. I have to say, arcanists are...something else. Your father was an arcanist, right?”

Elise smiled a little, nuzzling her cheek against the paladin’s chest as she spoke, “He was. He specialized as an automatist, though. Like how I’m a ranger, but I’ve kind of crossed into bard territory… specializing as a troubadour. He was an arcanist, but his focus was on the creation of magically imbued automata.”

She smiled a little, then added, “He was a toymaker.”

“Now that is cool...you must have had the best toys growing up.” Astredian said, nuzzling her curly hair a bit.

It was getting long and unruly again, not that the paladin minded. On the contrary, he seemed pleased that her hair was running rampant once more, though he hadn’t said so openly. It was her hair; he didn’t like telling her what to do with it. Even when it came to clothes, she found she had to ask directly if she wanted his opinion on something.

“Not really.” Elise said, chuckling softly. “The toymaker’s daughter doesn’t get to keep the toys he makes. They had to be sold. And he was the upmarket kind of toy maker, you know...toys for the rich and jaded. He made amazing things, beautiful things, but I rarely got to touch them let alone play with them. He did make me a few toys, but I’m not sure where they are. Mom or Jorgen probably kept them somewhere. I’ll have to ask when I see them next.”

“Mmm...you said your Mom got back to town just before the memorial, right?” Astredian asked, keeping his tone suspiciously casual.

“Yeah. Why, did you want to meet her?” Elise said, poking him a bit to emphasize the teasing tone to her voice.

“Ah-hey!” Astredian said, grabbing at her fingers, which danced gleefully away. “Yes, ok, yes. I would like to meet your mother at some point. Don’t you think you should introduce me? Or are you going to wait until we’ve gone old and gray?”

Elise bit her lip a little, and tilted her head as if she was considering. She let it go on just long enough to make him lift an eyebrow at her, before caving in.

“Of course I want you to meet her. I just...uhm...she’s a little weird.” Elise sputtered, not finding the right words to explain. She was pretty tired, after all.

“Well, she is a ranger…” Astredian said, his own voice oozing with sarcasm now. He laughed when she started poking him again.

Elise poked and tickled more forcefully this time, and laughed herself when the paladin finally rolled on top of her, grabbed her hands at the wrist, and pinned them above her head. She kicked a little at first, but the laughter and squirming died off as she looked up at him. He was panting, his usually neat hair tousled. It was his eyes that really caught her attention, though; even in the dark, and tired as they were, she could see that his blue eyes were brimming with desire.