astrid in the blooming grove

[iniquiticity]

Not long after the attack happened, Astrid learned from observation rather than being told that he Mighty Nein kept the Archmage Trent Ikithon in the cellar of the house of the gravekeepers, and there was always one of their number on watch. It was usually not Bre-- Caleb, she corrected herself, because what she'd seen when his their hands touched over the collar was overruled by every other moment. It was most typically Beauregard Lionett, the expositor and face of the recent Cobalt Soul corruption case as well was wine estate heir. Second was Fjord, the orcblood. Sometimes it was both of them, and they had the easy chatter of easy companionship. After that it was Yasha, who was some sort of Xorhas waste exile, and then Caduceus, one of the gravekeeper family, and last Veth, who they sometimes called Nott, who sometimes Caleb would ferry on errands to Nicrodramas, and then return with her later.

Beauregard always stiffened when Astrid walked by, as if she expected Astrid to barrel through the cellar door for her crippled former master. She had been tempted, for a while - Beauregard was obviously exceptionally capable, but she was only human, after all, and Astrid had the advantage that Beauregard would have not killed her without making sure Caleb permitted it. The urge faded, as urges did. When she could think clearly it made less sense to directly disobey the powerful group. The king would hear her story and:

1. decide that Ikithon was a criminal and sentence him to some some sort of punishment - which she could intervene and, ah, *expedite*, or
2. the king would decide Ikithon had acted in response to necessary needs of the lands and require to have the collar removed by Ludinus - who would not be happy, and that was a valuable opportunity - and she would be required to kill him to protect herself, or
3. the king would decide Ikithon had acted in response to the necessary needs of the lands, but the collar would not be removed, in which case, he would be easy pickings.

So there was no need to upset Caleb - or the rest of the Mighty Nein, for that matter - with it.

She did have have elaborate and complex daydreams about it, although she knew such things just exposing her weakness. No matter how she killed him it would feel no different from every other death. He was, after all, only human, and he would die as quietly and wetly as anyone else died.

She and Eadwulf stayed in Shady Creek Run most days, decide whether to return to the city or not, then, eat whatever they fed in the tavern, marginally inedible, and run the path to the cemetary together. The work to fix the temple and the grounds was hard, but worthy - moving earth, tilling the soil, replanting seeds and shrubs.

It was made — worse? yes, worse — not by the appearance of Shadowhand Theylss in and of itself, regardless (or despite?) that Theylss had obviously radically changed in the last two years and perhaps related to the Mighty Nein — but that Theylss and Caleb obviously cared deeply for each other, in inestimable ways, and how intensely it radiated from every moment they spent together, which was most of them. Out of all the people, she thought, and it was a weakness that she was angry in the way that caused Eadwulf to touch her hip and point out another bulb to be planted — but oh, it was infuriating.

Caleb had begged for her help to get into the Sanitarium, and she had done so, requesting only quiet. His response to that been to blast his way through, murdering half the guards, using dunamancy that Theylss had so obviously taught him, and get caught red-handed, forcing them all on the chase.

She had never known that sort of white-hot rage fury. Caleb - Bren - did that. Made her feel things she had never felt before, or forgotten.

Theylss obviously wanted nothing to do with her, which was for the better. She wasn't sure she would have been able to stomach it, knowing what *Essek Theylss* got, what she got. Eadwulf sat with her, making nonsense conversation she did not really respond to.

Eadwulf got into the habit of sparring with Fjord, the orcblood. Eadwulf liked Fjord, but the fact of the matter was for all Fjord's natural improvisational genius - the most important part of any melee combat, any decent weaponmaster would tell you - he obviously had been taught by drunks or sailors at best and self-taught at worst. Their practice matches were observed in various levels of skepticism by the Mighty Nein. It was entertaining, Astrid admitted, to watch Eadwulf teach Fjord by very gently making a fool of him.

The gravekeeper Calliope started had watching her on day two. It was a fairly pitiful excuse for watching - Astrid could see her quite easily in the window - not to mention that the firbolg's armor was pitiful by any means. One day she had turned an asked Calliope what, exactly, she had in mind. If you're going to try and kill me, she'd said, bored from a day of digging holes - at least hold your mace correctly.

Calliope was an irritating student, but she the correct about of stubborn determination, which was to say limitless. Astrid ran laps around Calliope and the other gravekeepers watched, with some concern Calliope attempt to follow her, heaving for breath.

[ed note: I think there was supposed to be a caleb and astrid conversation here, though i don't know what about, when i imagned this up at 3am. i forgot and never added it.]