Joan let out a soft, nervous sigh once she could see it. The small village of Duskend stood on the horizon, overlooked by the tall stone keep on the hill. Her new home.
Odd, before it had never looked quite so intimidating. It had always been a bit strange, in her mind, that it had been setup to overlook the village like that. Almost ominous. Not to mention the few times she had visited it as the Hero it had seemed so oversized. Then again, the keep had, supposedly, once been used to hold the nearby pass from the demons and been designed with the capability of having the entirety of the village retreat within it, should things turn sour.
She was doubtful the keep would hold up to a prolonged assault these days, but the pass it had once guarded had long since been destroyed, likely in an ancient battle involving a bygone hero. Now the village was more for agriculture, large fields of animals and crops with only a few homes to house the handful of villagers who lived there. The keep itself was more used for storage as well, though the Hero heard during harsher winters it wasn’t uncommon for the majority of the village to reside within to keep close. The place had always been so dreary and empty, all but a dried out husk of a settlement.
At least, that was what Joan had expected to see. Except as they came closer she could see that the village, while small, was a bustle of activity. Where in her past lives the streets had often been empty, now there were at least a dozen people moving through them, about their business. Buildings that she was absolutely certain hadn’t been there before were now standing and, frankly, there was a strange energy about the place. A buzz of activity.
Joan stared for a moment as they came ever closer, struggling to process this. She had never seen the place so active, how could this have happened?
A moment later it clicked. Lord Onrol had been running these lands before. The man had belonged on the bottom of a pond, scraped off the rocks like slime. The fact the village had become little more than a wasteland wasn’t surprising under his management. Hardwin had rarely been home to tend to things, especially once his duties as a Chosen became more important, and had always said his mother had been far better at managing things before she perished. Except now she hadn’t perished.
Another wave of anxiety washed over Joan. She was finally, after so many lives, going to meet Hardwin’s mother. She couldn’t help suddenly feeling self conscious. She reached up and tried to straighten her hair, but without her brush it didn’t seem to have any effect. Then again, with a brush she doubted it would have. She quickly wiped a hand down her front and knocked some of the dirt from travel off, but it wasn’t going to do much. How messy was she? Would his mother care? What if she was like Emeline? What if she hated the Hero?
They’d never actually met before, what if she completely ruined her chance to know the woman? The only other person she had any experience with like that was Isla. Right, how had she met Isla?
By knocking her off a wagon and then nearly killing her, instead settling for just ramming her knee into the woman’s stomach. Maybe she shouldn’t do that. She nudged her horse forward, making it walk a little faster and quickly sidling up besides Hardwin. “So, uhhh, what’s she like?” Joan asked.
“Who?” Hardwin asked.
“You know, your mom?” Joan asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.
“You don’t know?” Hardwin asked.
“I mean, not really,” Joan said before looking back towards the quickly approaching keep. “It was usually something you were vague about on account of, well, you know.” She glanced back towards Zorn, but fortunately the dwarf seemed preoccupied by talking with Thalgren and wasn’t listening.
“Oh right,” Hardwin said softly. “Convenient, that.”
“Yes, I know, it doesn’t make sense,” Joan said with a roll of her eyes. “You don’t really believe me, except you do, but you don’t want to because you’d rather be paranoid. Can you please help me out here and give me some information I can use?”
“Oh my goodness,” Korgron said with a mischievous grin. “Joan, are you nervous?”
“No,” Joan said quickly.
“Oh dear, you most definitely are,” Korgron said in a teasing tone. “Why? Haven’t you done this before?”
“Shut up,” Joan said, her cheeks burning. “It’s just a little nerve wracking, okay? I’ve just never met her before and I’ve heard a lot of stories about her. How amazing she is, how strong, how kind, how generous. All vague enough to be entirely useless.”
“Stories I never told you,” Hardwin said.
“You told me, just you didn’t tell me,” Joan said with a sigh. “I just want to make a good impression, okay? I don’t usually get a chance to do that.”
“You know, she does have a point,” Andreas said. “Usually her first impression is trying to kill someone or nearly being dead. Actually arriving on horseback and entirely unhurt…” He trailed off and glanced towards her arm which was bandaged and carrying a few stitches. “Mostly unhurt is probably a new experience for her.”
Joan groaned. “I meet important people for the first time on my feet all the time.”
“Name one,” Korgron said.
“Searle,” Joan said.
“You passed out within a few minutes of meeting him, from exhaustion,” Hardwin said.
“You,” Joan said.
“You didn’t know any of this stuff yet, doesn’t count,” Hardwin said.
“Uhhhhh… I met… the king! I was conscious for that!” Joan said quickly.
“Actually, he met you when you first arrived, but you were half dead,” Hardwin said.
Joan tried to think of anyone she had actually met the first time without almost being dead or trying to kill them and, to her annoyance, found that list really was quite short. Finally she perked up. “Thalgren.”
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“Not for lack of trying,” Korgron said. “We just managed to outpace you this time and put a lot of efforts into keeping you safe. You did try to go through that door.”
“Still counts!” Joan said quickly.
“Well, then this will be your second,” Hardwin said before coming to a stop outside the open gate of the keep and jumping down from his mount.
“Wait, what?” Joan asked before looking up. Oh no. She felt another wave of anxiety wash over her. What if the woman hated her? What even was her name? Some V name! Vivian? Was it Vivian? She really wanted to say Vivian. She could almost be impressed by the fact she remembered her name if she wasn’t so terrified that the woman was going to utterly despise her and tell her to sleep in the village or a stable. She quickly leaped off her horse and ran after him. “Her name is Vivian, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes,” Hardwin said before giving a soft sigh of exasperation. “I suppose you can call her grandmother, at least. She’d probably like that.”
“What? Why?” Joan asked, though she never had a chance to get the answer.
“Certainly took your time, didn’t you?” a voice called out, making her jump. A woman was walking towards them, an older woman. Joan gulped nervously and stared at her. Yes, this had to be her, judging by the way that Hardwin tensed up.
She was quite a bit older than Hardwin, judging by the wrinkles and the slight silvering to her long, brown hair. However, the wrinkles themselves showed the woman as someone who definitely smiled often and while she was aged, she certainly looked far more healthy than Joan would have expected. There was no limp to her step, in fact her steps seemed steady and her voice boomed through the main courtyard of the keep. The fact Hardwin shrunk back a little told her plenty as well, as she couldn’t remember ever seeing him shrink back from anyone.
“Hello, mother,” Hardwin said before bowing his head politely.
“Oh, knock that off,” the woman said with a roll of her eyes. “The lord of the keep shouldn’t bow his head, we’ve talked about this. Hm?” The woman’s eyes turned towards her then and Joan went entirely still. “I take it the little thing hiding behind you is Joan?”
“I’m not hiding,” Joan said quickly despite the fact she was, in fact, hiding behind Hardwin. She didn’t even remember doing it, but here she was.
That made the woman chuckle before she walked forward and Hardwin, to her eternal displeasure, stepped aside. “She is,” Hardwin said. “Mother, meet Joan. My possible daughter.”
“Of course she is,” Vivian said before kneeling down and looking her in the eye.
Joan tensed up and stared into the woman’s eyes, trying not to shrink back. No matter how desperately she wanted to cower and hide, she couldn’t. She had to be good and stare her right back in the eye. But there was something incredibly intimidating and she just couldn’t place it.
Then it finally clicked. She thought back to her own mother, when she was the Hero. Her memories of his mother were not good in the slightest. They were slightly disjointed and made her head hurt just a tiny bit when she thought of them, but they were also few and far between. Even before the loss of his father, his mother had been distant. Barely looking at him, barely talking with him. After the loss of his father it had been even worse. She often just left the Hero to his own devices, the most she deemed to give him, attention wise, was the occasional shared meal in silence. She couldn’t remember any time his mother had looked anyone in the eye, let alone the Hero. Not to mention she’d never looked healthy at any point, even when she was half the age of Vivian. The Hero’s mother had looked so exhausted and tired all the time, often staring out a window and letting the world slip on by.
But Vivian looked like someone who would grab the world by its nose and slam it into the dirt if it spoke out rudely. Joan was not sure if that was good or bad, yet. A lot of what she said could be considered rude and she tended to talk out of turn all the time. Now she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say anything at all.
“Well?” Vivian asked.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen her quite so quiet before, impressive,” Korgron said.
“She’s certainly a shy little th—” Vivian said, her voice cutting off when she looked to Korgron. Her eyes narrowed slightly and Joan tensed up.
Oh no. Joan could already see that this was going to go badly. Humans rarely got along well with demons and the last thing she wanted was for there to be a full argument the very first time she met Hardwin’s mother. She swallowed nervously and was about to speak up, but Vivian beat her to it.
“Hardwin,” Vivian said before getting to her feet. “Why didn’t you tell me that we were going to be having royalty? My apologies, miss…?”
Joan quickly looked between the two, Korgron’s own confused expression likely mimicking her own. She suspected the demon had expected the same reaction she did.
“She’s not royalty,” Hardwin said. “She’s the bearer of the crown.”
“Actually, technically I’m a princess,” Korgron said. “Not in line for the throne anymore. But I still am royalty.”
“Oh,” Hardwin said.
Vivian gave an exasperated sigh before shaking her head. “Of course. I’m very sorry, miss…?”
“Korgron the Everlasting,” Korgron said. “You, however, may just call me Korgron. A pleasure to meet you, miss…?”
“Please, call me Vivian,” she said before motioning towards the keep. “I have had rooms prepared for all of you while you’re here. Now, they’re not going to be as nice as what you’re likely used to, but I assure you that they’re the best we can offer. A thousand pardons. Had my son informed me that we were going to have foreign royalty here I would have tried to find you something more fitting.”
Korgron chuckled softly and shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s quite alright. After all, I’m sure any missives he sent have had to focus on other, more pressing matters. Like the appearance of his new daughter and the discovery of all the new Chosen. Trust me, there’s no need to overwork yourself for my benefit.”
Vivian nodded. “As forgiving as you are regal, here’s hoping some of you will rub off on my son.”
Hardwin gave a grunt in response and started walking towards the keep.
“Before you disappear,” Vivian said, calling out after him. “There are matters we need to discuss. Please meet me in your study when you have a moment.”
Hardwin gave an exasperated sigh before nodding. “Of course. I’ll meet you in your… in my study, once I have had a chance to clean up. I just need to bring the bath up to--”
“It’s already in your room and ready,” Vivian said. “I figured after the ride you would need one.”
“Delightful,” Hardwin said in a tone that said it was anything but.
Vivian gave a light chuckle before looking them all over. “So then. Joan, Korgron, Andreas and you must be Thalgren. Or… are you Thalgren?” Vivian asked, the smile on her face wavering when she glanced between the two dwarves.
“That lout with the hammer is Thalgren,” Zorn said with a light chuckle and a polite bow. “I’m Zorn, nice to meet you, miss.”
Thalgren merely gave a light nod, his eyes glancing around the courtyard.
“Of course, a pleasure,” Vivian said before looking between all of them once more. “If you would follow me, your mounts will be tended to and I’ll show you to your rooms.”
“Oh, right,” Korgron said before glancing back towards her horse, which was now pressed up against the wall of the keep, keeping as much distance from her as it could. “Yes. I think mine may need some pampering. It doesn’t appear to be very fond of demons.”
Vivian, to her credit, didn’t comment on that, she merely gave a nod. “That will be just fine, now please come along.” She then turned and walked towards the doorway to the keep proper, the group moving to follow behind her.
Well, at least she didn’t seem to hate any of them. Joan felt a little bit of her anxiety washing off. Though she couldn’t help feeling a little worried each time Vivian glanced back at her with a curious look.