“Fiona, so much for not making waves,” Greg called out between the cheers of the people in the stands. She slowly made her way down the steps, trying not to trip. “Uh, well now, I did not expect this, at all."

“You and half of Fiefdala, Greg,” Darla called out behind her, and Fiona worried that there was any number of things that could ruin this impression. The Princess of Fiefdala, calling on her? What was her angle? Maybe she heard that her brother had been an utter sleazebag, and this was her way of rewarding her for toughing it out?

Maybe that’s why she hasn’t called? Because she was worried I’d call her out on her brothers’ dragon crap? It was one possibility. Her bigger worry was if she had something stained on her jacket, or that her hair looked frazzled, or that she might have eaten too much of that meat pie. That could be a dire problem, eventually.

More pressing, was the fact that she’d now been called out in front of a massive crowd, and it wasn't long before people started calling her out as the champion of Fiefdala, the war of the flirt, and ‘crazy hot elf chick’ even got thrown out, much to her mild amusement.

This crowd was a magnitude of order larger than anything she’d had to handle before, and perception was everything. Bonnie was clearing a path ahead of her, and gave anyone who tried to get handsy the kitsune glare, and more than a subtle growl. Which was far cuter than it was intimidating on her. Fiona was a good sport, and didn’t let her know that part.

Okay, what is my plan here? What is Lucy's plan? Just a friendly ‘how are you doing, and I’m sorry my brother is a jerk?’ She was already climbing up the platform to greet her, and one of the guards motioned to stop her.

“Milady, security protocols–” one started to say, but was instantly silenced by Lucy, who waved to Fiona.

“That’s Fiona Swiftheart. You know, the one that bullied the bully dragon back to the swamp? Pretty sure I know it’s her,” she scolded before extending her arms, face lit with delight. “Fiona, darling, how are you?"

“Oh, you know, super good? I didn’t brush my teeth or anything, and I’m off the clock and–” Fiona sighed and just rolled with it, with Lucy giving her a greeting hug, and then raising her hand high in the air, to the raucous cheers of the audience. This was too much attention beyond her normal limit. Up to a certain point was great, but this kind of attention always came with trouble attached.

Lucy let go, and Fiona only just noticed how excited she was to see her. Had she made an impression of a lasting kind? Her last forays into the palace had been more than just a little bit of misadventure of snacks going mysteriously missing. Lucy was fun to be around. “Sorry for the impromptu callout, the ticket agent at the front tipped me off you were here, and I couldn't resist! Also, if i could have I would have been at the grand opening of your store, but I was busy dealing with Dad. Ugh! I gave him a good chewing out for putting Barry up in residence, like it wasn't going to be an utterly terrible idea!” Most of Lucy's words were drowned out by the crowd, waiting eagerly for a cue for a speech, perhaps? “Play along for a bit, will you?” Lucy asked with a wink.

“Oh, whatcha got?” Fiona leaned in, now at ease. From what she knew, Lucy was level-headed and cheery. She’d probably learned a lot from her dad, listening in while he did his kingly duties: how to negotiate, and play to a crowd.

“Just a tiny little favor to put some egg on my brother’s face, after what he did, and more to come,” she replied with bright eyes and upturned cheeks. “Promise me you’ll enter the tournament, you’ve got time.”

“Oh, boy,” Fiona sighed contentedly. “This'll be good. Do your thing.” she took a step back, arms folded with a relaxed posture, and Lucy motioned to the crowd for silence.

“Alright alright, I know, Princess duties, amirite?” Lucy called out with her arcane relay, to the enthusiastic response of the crowd. “Alright, here’s the deal. Big brother’s on his way, because he got curious to see what everyone was up to! Let’s give him a warm welcome when he gets here! He’s been very busy keeping that heavy crown on his head. It’s tough being a king! Meetings every day, laws to sign into effect, it’s so boring! Now, ya know what’s fun? A good old-fashioned melee!”

The idea of humiliating Barry under the cover of his sister was an opportunity too good to pass up. Even with her reservations about not drawing attention. Especially after getting her class in the most dramatic way possible. And for some reason, Wingding was flapping excitedly.

C’mon, what are you, my own built-in hint fairy? Hey, listen! Hey, listen! She thought while glancing down subtly. She felt her gaze navigating towards the assembled combatants. Some were tough-as-nails soldiers and a few were even adventurers, well-seasoned. A few of them, less so. She felt like her gaze was being drawn to someone, but she couldn’t tell who–until the wingbeats started fluttering more, and she slowed down her examination, while Lucy continued.

“Now, I think I'll sweeten the pot a little, as they say! I love a good tourney melee, so I asked for a teeny, tiny little change! The melee tourney will now be done in pairs! My friend Fiona has volunteered to help out a would-be hero!” Lucy called out, a flash of mischief in her eyes. She turned so that only Fiona could hear her. “Brother’s placing bets on the biggest hulking menace to win. Think you can take him?”

She peered over her shoulder, and saw a bald, hulking man with bulging veins on his skin, wearing a lumberjack beard and looking confident as he flexed his meaty finger to the crowd. Fiona grinned. “I’ll do one better. I’ll win it.”

That itch was getting stronger to find…riches in the heart? That was the only feeling she was getting, like there was a flighty soul out there that just needed to find something to treasure. She studied among the contestants and saw an elderly man there, wielding a staff. All the weapons were of the blunt kind, as the intent was to not cause lasting harm. He was not out of shape–he held the weapon competently, but this was a young person's game, requiring speed, and tactical awareness.

She pointed from behind Lucy’s shoulder and got her to focus on the man. “Know him, out of curiosity?” she whispered in her ear, while the crowd focused on the contestants pairing off, slowly but surely. The muscle head found someone of similar size, and they gripped each other's hands and shook firmly.

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Lucy's eyes brightened in recognition of the older man Fiona had pointed out. “Oh, I know him! One of the senior guards, who is always accompanying Edward around. My brother kept trying to nudge him to retire, but he didn’t have it in him to force him out. He’s popular with the new people in the palace, and he is very knowledgeable.” Lucy answered with a flash of excitement. “Why him?”

“It’s a…” Fiona trailed off, that winged heart was gonna take off like a helicopter or start dragging her arm around, the way it was signaling her. What was this strange power, what was wingding trying to say? Someone who…lived a long life, but still waiting to find their fortune? Recognition for their talent?

Wingding, we gotta work on Morse code for you. Or you need a voice. You're a hyperactive kid, you know that?

One dramatic flap later, Fiona had her answer. She pointed at the guard, and whispered to Lucy. “What’s his name?”

“Kieran.”

Fiona didn’t waste a second more, and she nodded to Lucy. “I want him. I didn’t come dressed for a melee, though.”

“Miss Swiftheart? We have a small provisional armor set up for the melee,” one of the festival workers pointed out The crowd was eagerly awaiting the start, while Lucy clapped her hands together. “Princess Lucy, they will be starting in about five or so minutes."

“Ah, yes, I’ll grab a seat. Fiona, good luck!” she added with a beaming smile, that she returned with equal brilliance.

If there was one thing that was going to make her day even better than it already was, it was putting an egg on King Beardless. And that slab of meat he’d been betting on winning the tournament. She found it so unkingly to be placing bets--did Greybeard know this? She'd hold off for now--if there was anything she wanted, it was ammo to use against him, and properly stockpiled.

Fiona quickly bounded down to the senior knight, who looked at her in surprise. “You want to partner with me, Miss Swiftheart? This is not like fighting monsters.”

“Nah, I got this! Plus, my weapon comes in a flavor of humiliation, rather than smashing things to bits!” she added as she tapped the haft. “Kieran, right? Let's get geared up. Safety first and all!”

“To think I’ve been blessed by a goddess of fortune,” he added as he bowed gently.

“Me, a goddess? Please, no, I’m just a gal who got good at beating up monsters for coins. But I do make fortunes, in a way!” she added with a finger pistol salute. The gesture drew a blank from Kieran, who scratched the back of his head. “I said, I make fortunes?”

Still no effect. This finger pistol salute was totally nerfed in this world. She needed to get to work on that one! “Alright, the point being, I think I’ve seen you at the palace a couple of times. That's your weapon of choice?” she asked as she pointed to his staff.

“It is an elegant weapon, from a more civilized age,” he replied stiffly–but not before giving it a good twirl, and showed excellent form and agility with it, even at his age. “It is light, and better than a saber, a weapon of my previous years.”

“Good call. Alright, here’s the deal, Kieran. King Beard–King Barry,” she corrected hastily, “apparently has been placing some bets. I’d like to gently remind him that’s a no-no, and–”

“You'd like to throw some shade his way, as the young recruits are wont to say?” Kieran finished with a glimmer of amusement in his youthful blue eyes. “I’ve entered this tourney every harvest festival. Good as I am, I think my best days are behind me.”

“Nah. You’ve got one good day left at least, and we’re cashing it in!” she affirmed as she clapped his shoulder.

A few moments later, they had clad themselves in the light-padded armor that would have been better suited on the recruits for the town guard or some of the rookie adventurers. Fiona remembered it all too well. It was light, but it didn’t encumber movement in any significant way. Kieran also stood ready in a light set, while various paired combatants looked around at the starting area. She eyed the various teams–thirty in total, for sixty men and women. She looked for the most powerful pairings, while the lizardman came back to the stage. He flexed his scales lightly before gripping the relay in his hand, and resumed his smooth-spoken instructions.

“Alright, the rules are simple! Teams of two, and only one of you need to be standing at the end for your team to win! Your armors are enchanted to flash three colors: Emerald green, Vermillion Yellow, and Ruby Red. Each of these indicates the ‘hits’ you have left. Three solid hits against you, and you’re out,” the announcer called out, his tail wagging gently. The crowd was now in hushed excitement, though she heard a few people calling out–including Bonnie and Darla from the stands. She hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to them, but she told them to trust her on this one.

“Kick their butts, girl!” Bonnie called out, her witch hat making her stand out from the crowd–and her bright red fur, too.

“Your friend is enthusiastic,” Kieran demurred as he gripped his staff gently. The announcer continued.

“Now, a couple more rules: you may use any abilities that are not classed to cause permanent harm! No setting people on fire, please, I’m not cleaning up bits and pieces, either! Also, no blows to the crown jewels, so to speak, and let’s keep it clean!” the announcer finished, as the crowd went wild. “The tourney starts in one minute! Good luck!"

Fiona kept seeing the small gold bangle she’d worn for the day shaking...even slightly glowing. She frowned and looked at it closer. It was glowing, and her mark kept trying to flap right off her skin, much to her annoyance. “Oy, how I’m supposed to fight with you being a butterfly?” she asked under her breath. “You're saying I should razzle and dazzle?”

“Uh, pardon?” Kieran asked, and looked at her with a skewed expression. “Oh, what’s our strategy?”

“I’ll plow a path to the most dangerous guys in the fight. The big, beefy, shirtless guys,” she added as she pointed them out. “Hmm. Maybe I’ll only beat up one of them, and then take the other out on a date.”

“You know, they have a name for you in the palace,” Kieran responded with a chuckle. “‘Fiona the flirt.’”

“Heh. I can live with that depiction, but I’m still a one-date-at-a-time kind of girl. I’m a merchant now. Now I get to hand out five flirt discounts,” she added with a gritted smile. “Show me your moves Kieran! Keep the stragglers off my back, and we'll plow a way to victory!"

“We’re not going to circle the sides?” he asked with a roll of his neck, and he cracked the joints. She shook her head.

“Nah. Dedicated beatings need to be done in style.” The display in the center of the arena, in the form of a few hovering wisps balls of fire-colored yellow, were disappearing in little puffs of red flame. About twenty seconds were left. “Why’s an old timer like you still fighting tourneys?”

“I promised my girlfriend a long time ago I’d win the harvest festival melee. I didn’t win it, but, the girlfriend saw it in me to make me her husband. Who knew? I’m just keeping the promise on my end, before I keel over from my last winter,” he grunted. “I hate getting old. Your mind stays fast, but the rest of your body doesn’t, and I feel aches in my back when it gets cold outside.”

“Oh, buddy, I sympathize. We’ve got it in us for one last hurrah at least.” she waited for the puffballs to dissipate until only one was left. Five seconds left, now. “It’s also adorably sweet, you're trying to win it for her.”

“It’s for show, I suppose,” he admitted. “I won a long time ago in the heart, you know? Two sons would agree with my sentiment.”

“Ya know something? Not all riches are in gold,” she said with a heartfelt smile, and the staging gate slowly opened.

Beyond, she could see the participants–and a more telling figure, high up in the VIP stands. She narrowed her eyes at the beardless wonder peering down at the arena, blonde hair slicked back, and his sister sitting politely beside him, looking enthusiastically at her.

Lucy might have given her an opening to throw some shade at Barry, but then she glanced at Kieran, with a wish unfulfilled. Between the two of those things…that fluttery feeling in her heart told her that this was more important. “Let’s win this thing, Kieran. Follow my lead!”

The last puffball went out in a blaze, and the entrants roared into action, and the elf and the veteran charged into the fray, confident smiles on both their faces.