Epilogue
The Tipsy Top was always the best place to be.
Tala was fully aware of how biased her thinking was.
Until recently, all of her best memories had happened at the Tipsy Top Inn.
She had won her first arm wrestling match there, had tried her first pint of Dragon Spit, and most importantly, she met what had been the most important person in her life.
Avelina.
When Tala had finally worked up the nerve to carry the opal on her, that’s when Avie’s voice finally came through.
She sounded good—happy even as she asked to meet at their usual stomping ground.
Of course Tala agreed, why wouldn’t she?
They had a lot to talk about and, fuck, was Tala going to have a fun time explaining the two blue bards who insisted on going with her.
“And this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you both thought I was in love with her, right?” Tala asked as she began to walk backwards so she could eye them both.
Ameriden and Casimine wore heavy cloaks, but there was no magical glamour to disguise them further than that.
Not to mention they had dressed nicely—not as ostentatious as their gala outfits had been, but way better than a casual night out.
Tala couldn’t really complain about it either.
She had grown to accustomed to Casimine’s pension for sheer clothing and Ameriden’s abs were always a treat for her eyes.
“No way,” Ameriden denied like the fucking liar he was.
Casimine caught her eye and mouthed, “A little.”
Tala tutted, whirling back around. Her braids still hung around her shoulders, only with a new flourish.
The tiniest of purple amethysts had been woven in alongside several strands of blue green hair.
Casimine had helped her with them before they left after she rejected their requests of seeing her in a proper dress.
“I’d worry less about Avie and more about what Seira is going to say when she learns you two snuck out of your room for the evening,” Tala said with a grin.
“She’ll live,” Ameriden said, stretching his arms above his head as they walked.
“I don’t know, Amer. You are costing her quite a bit of gold,” Casimine teased.
“Water Mother—” Ameriden groaned. “I’ll give her my gold.”
“Oh, no, if anyone’s getting your gold, it’s me!” Casimine laughed.
When they arrived at Tipsy Top, the usual crowd was exactly how Tala remembered.
Fran—short for Franchette—the bronze-skinned human bartender waved as they walked in.
Familiar faces—young and old—tucked together close around their drinks as laughter bellowed.
And most depressing of all was the empty stage with it’s string of tiny lanterns.
“What happened to your performer?” Tala gestured toward the empty stage as she pushed back the hood of her cloak.
“Drank a little too much last night,” Fran explained, pressing defined forearms onto the bar table. “If you know anyone who can play at a moment’s notice, stage is all theirs. I got some people who could really use some dancing.”
Fran gestured to a booth across the bar where a group of young halflings sat. Tala clocked the two halfling girls making heart eyes at each other and immediately got the message.
“Nerves?” Tala asked, already sliding a silver over for her usual.
“They’ve been coming here for weeks,” Fran said. “The brunette’s too scared to make a move.”
“We can do it!” Ameriden said, before ripping his cloak off his head in the most fucking dramatic way.
“You can sing?” Fran asked with a note of skepticism in their expression.
“We can,” Casimine confirmed after a moment. “He brought his own instrument and everything.”
Tala worried about the implication of what it meant once the crowds realized who the two water helfen were, but she relaxed quickly when her brain supplied an important bit of context.
I’m here and Ameriden is here, which means nothing bad can happen to Casimine here.
“Well, let’s see if you can get these feet going.” Fran gestured with their head toward the humble stage. “Climb your way up and get going.”
Ameriden grinned, snatching Casimine by the wrist and hauling him off before Tala could say a word.
She chuckled quietly under her breath, thanked Fran for the ale, and made her way to the nearest booth by the stage.
She flipped Ameriden off when he tossed their cloaks her way and she grumbled as she stuffed them at the end of the booth.
Tala was expecting a big introduction, maybe something with magical lights or the spell they had used to make their voices ten times the normal volume.
Cashmere Fantasy ended up surprising her when they did none of that.
Casimine started singing, Ameriden joined with a few simple chords of his lute, and just like magic, music filled the room.
They were unjustly good—but Tala had known that since she first heard them play in their room back at the Golden Manor.
It was just different seeing the way the heads turned, watching people grow enamored by two of the most grossly talented and charming people Tala had ever seen.
It was easy to get lost in watching a room full of people fall in love with them.
It was probably that same magnetism that kept Tala from noticing movement in the corner of her vision. Red hair, baby face, big eyes—
Fuck, it was Avie.
In a cowgirl outfit.
That was…new, but not as new as the way she was walking.
Avie was taking up space. Avie, who would mumble apologies if she so much as brushed a hair against a stranger, was pushing through the crowd like she owned the damn room.
For a moment, Tala could only stare, because whoever this Avie was, she was obviously not the same one who had left Eshorion so long ago.
This Avie closed the distance to her booth with purpose, panting and exuberant as she slammed both palms onto the table.
“Tala!”
“Avie!”
“Look at you! I hardly recognized you! You’re so relaxed! What are those in your hair—I missed you.”
The rapid fire speech wasn’t new as Avie had a tendency to talk that way when excited, but it still momentarily overwhelmed her. The mark along her friend’s cheek was what drew her attention back to some kind of focus.
“I—holy shit, did you get in a fight with a sewing needle?” Tala’s hands were already moving, intent on cupping Avie’s face until she remembered where she was. “What happened to your face?”
“Sewing needle?” Avie giggled—because of fucking course she would. “No. Several men with a grudge? Yes. What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days!”
“You were?” Tala shook her head for the needy question, braids brushing her shoulders. “What am I saying, of course you were. You’re a good person, not some asshole who would fuck off for no good reason. Shit, that came out wrong.”
Avie just laughed again as she crawled into the booth beside her.
Physical distance had never been a factor in their relationship, but Tala was hesitant to close the gap.
It felt presumptuous, like skipping steps that she really needed to follow.
Avie, on the other hand, apparently didn’t feel the same way as she threw her arms around her and squeezed.
It startled Tala, the difference in Avie’s hug compared to the ones they shared before.
And the longer it lasted, the more it felt like trying to fit into an old familiar tunic that just didn’t lay the same way anymore.
“I didn’t fuck off, and I didn’t want to abandon you,” Avie pulled back, gesturing with her thumb. “It’s all…well…kinda his fault.”
Tala followed the motion, then frowned at the sight of the slaithar man a few footsteps away.
He was tall—the tail helped with that—and Tala was pretty sure she could knock his fangs out of his head before he could even blink.
She never denied being outwardly hostile to strangers—especially strange men—but the fact that Avie had just thrown him to the wolves for Tala’s temper?
Hope you know a good healer, buddy…
“Throwin’ me under the train already, little viper? How crude.” the man huffed, hands falling to his hips.
“Shut up! You kidnapped me!”
“It was a mutual partnership,” the man laughed, all pompous and showy.
“It’s now a mutual partnership,” Avie wheezed.
A horrible realization hit Tala that caused one of her eyes to twitch. “Is this… the guy from GloomsDale?”
When Avie beamed, all rosy cheeks, and proceeded to wave her hand in the man’s direction, Tala felt her blood turn hot. As if sensing it, Avie immediately tossed her arm over Tala’s shoulder—a poor attempt at holding her back.
This is the asshole she was in bed with!
“Tala, meet Callum…” Avie leaned close to her ear, “Otherwise known as Cottonmouth, you know the Outlaw?”
“You’re fucking outlaws now?” Tala asked.
She didn’t mean to sound outraged or judgmental, but based on the way the two of them were looking at each other—fuck.
Of all the potential random ass guys Avie could have been playing house with, it had to be an outlaw?
Knowing her friend’s luck, there was probably already a sketch of the guy hanging in some lodge where the bounty hunters liked to gather.
As bleak as that potential line of thinking, Tala could see it in Avie’s eyes. She was in love, and that was that.
Tala sighed, soft and with begrudging acceptance uttered, “Damn.”
“That’s not…even the worst news,” Avelina admitted, drawing her arm back with a nervous jerk. “So, the thing is. I’m—well, you should know…”
“She’s a warlock,” Callum said with a huff, sliding conveniently into the booth next to Avie.