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It doesn’t help that he's wearing more of Seldon’s old clothes—an oversized forest green sweater rolled up at the sleeves and a baggy pair of jeans that I am pretty sure were more of a slim fit on Seldon when I last saw them . The outfit swallows him, making him look smaller, more vulnerable.
Something stirs in my chest— a tight feeling that has me rolling my shoulders and stretching my neck. That insidious possessive part of mehatesseeing him in someone else's clothing. But considering he still hasn’t arranged for his things to arrive from his home in Loqueaur, and obviously hasn’t been up for a trip to Twin Heads to go shopping, it’s the only real practical solution.
Other than him roaming the tavern naked, and while I’ddefinitelybe up for that, I don’t think going on a rampage against the patrons of my tavern for looking at him would be a great idea.
Might be a bit of fun though. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good brawl. I mean, there was the time in the cottage. But I mean agoodbrawl. Not a life and death situation. Thereisa difference, even if Mauvy has never really gotten it.
Theo sets himself up with his book and the bowl of nuts he helps himself to over the bar, studiously ignoring the fauns jostling him, as they exuberantly recreate a fight that had occurred earlier in the week at their gathering.
Well, I think it was a fight from the looks of it? The wrestling is awfully… gropey.
A level of rowdiness is expected here this late on a weekend, and Theo seems to be okay with them, so I let their behaviour slide.
Until one of the wrestlers shoves his opponent a little too hard, sending the other faun flying into Theo.
There is a horrifying moment, panic overtaking his face, as his chair wobbles precariously and topples to the side. Theo crashes to the floor in a loud clatter. The fauns quickly rush to his aid, scrambling to right the stool and help pick him up, but their flurry of apologies are drowned out.
“Get! OUT!”
Drowned out bymeapparently. Fury boils through my veins as I do the one thing I have tried to avoid my whole tenure as Keeper of the Tavern - allow my berserker rage to show.
Red hazes my vision as I watch the fauns fall all over themselves and Theo, trying to get away from him. I can feel the power pulsing in my veins, a violent throb that feels like a marching beat, pushing me to fight, battle,protect.
A low growl rattles through the now silent tavern and a dim part of my brain recognises that it comes fromme.I know I need to knock this shit off, but this anger is too big, too fresh for me to contain.
My nostrils flare, my breath a rough snort as I take a step towards the cowering fauns as they scramble back into the other patrons—mypatrons—sputtering apologies and pleading for mercy.
The bar itself blocks my advance and just as I prepare to leap over the bastard thing, a firm smack clips the back of my head.
I shake it off with a grunt, but the interruption gives me a blessed moment of clarity, an opportunity to pull myself back from the abyss of doing something monumentally, and unforgivably, stupid.
The rage pumping through me slowly dissipates, settling into something much more murky, like regret. Beside me, out of the corner of my eye I see the deliverer of my much deserved smack.
Mauvy, in all of her five-feet-nothing-if-she-is-lucky glory, on her stool, arms crossed across her ample chest, glowers from behind her thick round glasses.
“Do I need to do it again? I will. Gladly.” She sounds a little too keen to deliver another slap for my liking, but focusing on her familiar face is helping me get a handle on the roil of emotions clouding my thinking. Her brows furrow in assessment, her arm drawing back for another whack.
“I’m good.” It comes out as a rough grunt as I struggle to catch hold of my breathing.
Mauvy is staring at me like I am a complete stranger—and a dangerous one at that, which is saying a lot.
She and I have been friends since we were tiny little babies. Her parents had been here a little too regularly, and we basically grew up together until my Uncle Inigo just moved her in with us as a young teen.
She knows full well how hard I work to keep cool and calm and never let my berserker heritage take over. I’ve certainly never raged out like this before.
I manage to take in three deep lungfuls of breath, each one burning my chest. The fauns are still collecting themselves from the floor. I haven’t dared look at Theo yet. What must he be thinking? Already, the whole Black Stump had screeched to a halt to watch my shit show go down.
I drop my head and try to relax my body into a less aggressive stance, forcing my muscles into submission.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen. Sincerely. I overreacted.” The band of fauns, only six of them in all, stammer for a moment, backing towards the exit, bumping into things as they go.
“Gods, enough of this. You lot, head outside, it’s where you should’ve been anyway with the way you carry on. Hildy will be out with some drinks for you on the house soon enough, okay?” Mauvy turns her stern eye to the rest of the tavern, clapping herhands once and making a shooing motion, “and you lot can mind your own business. Get on with yourselves.”
And this is why she is my second in command. We often joke that we are each other's platonic life partner, both tied to the tavern we call home. Soon enough, the fauns find their way outside, eagerly awaiting their delivery from our weekend waitress while the rest of the tavern go back to their previous endeavours, unwilling to cross Mauvy. After all, she is usually the scary one around here.
“Ok, well, now that’s over, I have things to do in the kitchen. Keep your shit together, I don’t have time to take care of you and everything else around here.”
Only now does she spot Theo cowering in the corner, doing his very best to remain invisible. It is almost comical to see the quick change from being intensely serious and kind of threatening to warm and friendly.
