Chapter 6 Ren #2
The first step in the direction of their clan’s territory landed with a leaden thump, near-identical to the weight that dropped into their belly.
They couldn’t match Pig’s exuberance, the way she’d bolted out of their grasp the very second they’d finished tying that final knot.
Instead, they trailed behind her and the cart she was pulling, not so much stepping as dragging their feet, the lump of iron that had plummeted into their gut growing heavier and heavier and heavier still.
A pressure matched only by the vice that had clamped around their heart.
By the time the dense foliage parted around a familiar clearing, the cave mouth Ren had once considered their front door stretching open wide ahead of them, the crushing feeling had become all-consuming, thinning their breaths into the shallowest of gasps.
There it was. Home. One that both was and wasn’t.
Only a handful of days had passed, and still it didn’t feel real.
Ren swallowed, emotion stoppering their throat like shards of broken glass.
Even on the way down, it hurt; perhaps worse than if they’d simply allowed the feeling to sit.
But the thought alone proved intolerable.
Because how was Ren supposed to be the lifeline their clan needed them to be if all they could ever think about was themself?
Exactly, they thought, catching their lower lip with their teeth hard enough to taste blood. This isn’t about you. It’s much more than that. It’s—
A group of children chose that moment to spill out into the clearing, interrupting Ren’s thoughts with a cacophony of high-pitched shrieks and squeals. None of them had noticed Ren thus far, too consumed with their game of make-believe to pay even Pig any mind.
“I’ve got you now, vile wizard!” cried the tallest goblin, a boy of about nine who had taken to going by Dandy as of late; short for Dandelion. He brandished a rather impressive-looking stick, about as long as a short sword.
“Is that what you think?” retorted one of the other children – the apparent “wizard”, who Ren knew as Robin. They raised their arms and waggled their fingers, as if preparing to cast a spell. “You always were a fool, Aconite. Look! You’ve walked straight into my trap! Minions, seize him!”
Following their “master’s” command, the last two children, twin girls named Holly and Ivy, stepped out from behind Robin and started towards Dandy.
Ivy leapt forward with a triumphant roar, raising her own stick high above her head in what was doubtless meant to be a display of ferocity, while Holly was more subdued, dragging herself along with obvious effort.
Noticing her lack of commitment to her role, Robin let out a long, frustrated groan. “Come on, Holly! You’re supposed to be my halfling minion. At least try to play the part.”
“I’m sick of being the smelly halfling!” Holly snapped, stamping her foot. “I want to be Aconite! You said I’d get a turn—”
“Yeah! Next time!” Dandy said, waving her off, stick still in hand.
“That’s what you said before!”
Ren smiled, the tightness in their chest unraveling into a dull, deep-seated ache.
It was no surprise that the children were playing this game again.
They always were. Though a lesson was in order.
As much as the older children seemed aware of the concept of “taking turns”, it seemed they continued to struggle when it came to putting it into practice.
“All right. No fighting,” Ren said, stepping out from the surrounding bushes and into the clearing proper.
Four heads swiveled towards them at once, and as the children’s eyes widened with surprise – and, then, elation – the cause of their argument was swiftly forgotten.
“Ren’s back! Ren’s back!” they cheered in unison, crowding around Ren in a disorienting rush of flailing limbs and sticks.
“Did you bring us anything?” Robin asked, already peeling off to go peek into the wagon. Pig, aware that she was of less interest than her burdens, let out a decidedly unhappy snort, which went entirely ignored.
Ren chuckled. “Of course. I’d never come ho— here empty-handed.”
Their mouth snapped shut, teeth fitting together with an audible clack. That was close. No matter what they did, that word – home – was always there, itching on the back of their tongue, ready to spring out the moment Ren let their guard down.
The cottage is your home now, they told themself, ignoring the way their insides curdled in response, the knowledge, deep down, that the cottage could never – would never – be their home. Even if they could get rid of that damned halfling.
Ren followed the children inside, trying their best to listen to four different stories at once as they all made their way down the gently sloping path, still shiny with moisture from the most recent rainfall.
No matter how many times Ren chided the children, employing the ever-relevant phrase “one at a time”, none of them was willing to take a backseat to the others.
Instead, the competition for Ren’s attention rapidly devolved into a display of who could shout the loudest, which, inside the Woodward Clan’s sprawling network of caves, meant they were heard long before they arrived in the central cavern.
Homesickness or no, Ren would normally enjoy being welcomed back with all the excitement in the world. Except their echoing entrance had provided the more, shall we say, eclectic members of the clan with ample opportunity to stage an ambush.
Ren knew whose arms had grabbed them, lifting them up with startling ease, before the deep rumble of Thorn’s voice confirmed it. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” asked their cousin, grinning over Ren’s shoulder.
“Ugh. Put me down,” Ren said, swatting the trunk-like mass of their cousin’s forearm, left bare as always. “I have perfectly functional legs, you know.”
“I haven’t seen my favorite cousin in two whole days! Forgive me if I’m a little enthusiastic.”
“Over-enthusiastic, more like,” Ren replied with a roll of their eyes. Still, they couldn’t help but smile.
Although Thorn was what more polite individuals would call an “acquired taste”, known just as readily within the clan as the “weird one” as he was the “large one”, Ren had spent more time in his company than not.
From the moment Ren had joined the clan – the one bright thread amid the otherwise miserable tapestry of their early childhood – the two of them had been practically joined at the hip.
Wherever one went, the other had been all but guaranteed to follow.
At least, until now.
Ren’s heart squeezed around another swell of grief crashing against an otherwise quiet shore. They pulled Thorn into another hug the second he set them back down – a proper one this time, where everyone’s feet remained firmly planted on the ground.
“I missed you too,” Ren mumbled, their voice slightly muffled by the solid heft of Thorn’s chest. Alas, the time when Ren had been able to tuck their face into Thorn’s shoulder was long gone, buried beneath the most impressive growth spurt the clan had ever seen.
“And don’t you dare pick me up again. You already got your allotment for the day. ”
Thorn let out a scoff, his expression slackening into one of apparent innocence. “I wouldn’t even dream of it.”
“Uh-huh,” Ren said, giving him a flat look.
Thorn shook his head, shoulders slumping as he threw up his hands. “Do you see how I’m being falsely accused?” he said, looking now towards the children, still clustered around them, his brown eyes creasing into an almost puppy-like plea.
“I dunno,” said Dandy, crossing his arms. “You do pick up Ren a lot. Like, a lot a lot.”
“It’s ’cause he knows Ren doesn’t like it,” Robin explained. “Plus, Thorn’s too dumb to come up with any new tricks.”
“Hey! I have plenty of other tricks up my sleeve!” Thorn protested; not that it proved in any way convincing. Robin’s stare, previously only dubious, turned pitying. Because what was a goblin without a vast and varied capacity for chaos?
“I wanna be picked up too…” Ivy mumbled, scuffing the toe of her boot against the mossy floor, a display of uncharacteristic shyness for a girl who’d been bellowing battle cries not even five minutes ago.
It all made sense less than a moment later, when Thorn hoisted her up with an exaggerated grunt of effort and the other children exploded into an absolute furor.
How could she be so disloyal? they demanded, fists swinging as they stamped their feet.
They were supposed to be defending Ren, not asking favors of the enemy!
But by that point, Ivy was so lost in the delight of swooping through the air above Thorn’s head that she either didn’t hear them or, quite simply, didn’t care.
“Again! Again!” she cried when Thorn finally set her back down, now huffing and puffing with the first hint of real exhaustion.
“Maybe later,” he said, giving her hair a light ruffle. “But right now I’ve got to bring Ren down to the croplands. Nana’s orders. We’ve got some very important business to take care of before they have to leave again.”
“What sort of business?” Robin asked, their eyes bright with interest. They, along with Holly and Dandy, had quieted immediately at Thorn’s statement. A new opportunity, perhaps, to be helpful to Ren – and, of course, to keep tagging along. That was the important part.
Realizing this, Ren turned towards them and said, with the utmost seriousness, “Business that absolutely can’t wait.
So, I need the four of you to help me out, okay?
You see that wagon I brought with me? All the food inside needs to be unloaded, and since I can’t do it myself, some of the other adults are going to have to do it instead.
Can you go find them and let them know?”
Dandy frowned. “Why can’t we just unload it ourselves? We’re plenty strong enough for that.”