Chapter 15 Pansy
Pansy
To the Goblin Market the young girl went,
Her purse heavy with money to be spent.
But a goblin’s price is never exacted in silver or gold,
For their trade is one of futures sold.
And so, the young girl’s soul joined the rest,
Ensnared in the same magic that made manifest
All that she’d dreamed of and more.
“THE GOBLIN MARKET”, A HALFLING CHILDREN’S RHYME
For once, the comforts of the kitchen did little to ease the miserable knot Pansy’s insides had wound themselves into.
Even with Ren by her side, encouraging her with soft words and gentle touches, the day’s disappointment remained an ever-present specter, haunting her at every turn.
Nothing could slip beyond the chill of its grasp; things that had once brought her joy suddenly turned bitter as ash.
And the cottage, now infused with the smell of warm stew and freshly baked pumpkin pie, proved the most intolerable of all.
So, Pansy made her excuses, mumbling something about needing some air as she shoved herself away from the table, where her dinner sat largely untouched.
No doubt Ren would think it a waste, but the fact that she’d even managed a handful of bites was already a miracle in itself.
Gods knew the weight in her belly had left little room for anything else.
Ren, for their part, said nothing about the wasted food – much to Pansy’s relief. Instead, they only asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”
The answer to that was “no”. For as much as Ren had lent a touch of brightness to an otherwise miserable day, their presence had nonetheless become a blade that cut both ways.
Every time Pansy remembered the kiss they’d shared at the Harvest Festival, the memory of Agvaldir was hot on its heels, all too ready to send her soaring heart plummeting back to earth.
Whatever had bloomed between Ren and her, it was a fragile, half-cracked thing, hamstrung by a secret barely deserving of the name.
Pansy would insist that she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Not really. But still, her stomach turned, its meager contents frothing like the sea in a storm at the mere thought of telling Ren the truth.
Because now that Haverow had well and truly rejected her, they were all she had left.
She couldn’t risk damaging that. Not now; not ever.
Maybe, if having feelings for one another was enough, she’d feel differently.
But they were a halfling and a goblin, and at this point even the world itself seemed determined to keep them apart.
“I’ll just be a moment,” Pansy assured Ren, her lips stretching around a too-stiff smile.
No doubt Ren wanted to accompany her anyway, judging from the concern that slashed across their brow. Still, they did as she asked, settling back into their seat as she headed for the front door.
Pansy stepped out into the garden alone, the cool night air barely registering amid the sour heat that roiled beneath her skin.
It was strange being out here without Ren.
For one, the garden was far darker than she was used to; the lanterns Ren had arranged for her benefit still unlit.
Had Pansy planned on doing something other than plopping down on the front stoop and stewing in her own misery, trapped in an unending loop of just-tell-them-but-I-can’t, she might have gone to the trouble of lighting them herself.
But, as it was, she saw no real point. Just a lot of wasted effort and burnt-down wicks.
It wasn’t like she couldn’t see. The garden remained discernible enough for her purposes, familiar shapes cast now in gold and silver, the warmth of the cottage meeting the cool glow of the moon.
The forest beyond, however, was a different story.
Pansy had barely settled onto the stoop, her skirts folded neatly underneath her, when a sharp snap, like that of a twig crunching underfoot, rang out from the black mass of the nearby treeline.
Her breath snagged in her throat, eyes flying wide as her head jerked in the direction the noise had come from.
In truth, it shouldn’t have been nearly so startling. The forest was full of sounds, from the rustle of leaves to the low groan of shifting bark.
And yet, there was something different about this.
A chill had come over Pansy, washing down her limbs in streams of gooseflesh.
She squinted into the murky void, eyes straining to make sense of what little she could actually perceive, a jumble of barely there outlines that slowly coalesced into a handful of bushes, some trees.
So far, nothing unusual or out of the ordinary.
Then one of the shapes shifted, retreating deeper into the thicket; what Pansy had once thought to be merely a tree turned out to be anything but.
“Ren?” she squeaked out, unable to keep herself from hoping, even though it made no sense. If that had been a person – rather than some strange, terrifying monster of the forest – they were much too tall to be a goblin or even a halfling. “Ren, is that you?”
“Pansy?”
Pansy’s heart kicked into her gorge. Ren’s voice had come from behind her. She turned and found them standing in the doorway, their forehead knotted with thick ropes of confusion.
“What’s wrong?” they asked, frowning at the sight of her expression, wide-eyed and devoid of color.
“I—” Pansy glanced back to the forest’s edge. Did I just imagine it? “I thought I saw someone… In the trees over there.”
“Stay here,” Ren said, yanking on their shoes, which they’d left on one side of the doorway. “I’ll go take a look.”
“I’ll come with you,” Pansy said, already shooting up from the stoop. If someone was out there, there was no way she was going to let Ren face them alone.
For a moment, it seemed like Ren was going to argue with her. But one look at the hard set of her jaw, and whatever fight had been building inside them promptly fizzled out. “Fine,” they said. “But stay behind me.”
Together, they approached the black tangle of the forest, each step speeding Pansy’s already frantic pulse.
She shivered as they pushed beyond the treeline, branches unfurling overhead like thick veins of ink.
Unable to help herself, she gripped a fistful of Ren’s tunic, flushing when they cast a quizzical look over their shoulder.
“I can’t see,” she mumbled by way of explanation, ducking her burning face beneath a veil of red curls.
“Then stay close,” Ren replied, their vision once again trained on the forest floor, searching for footprints, no doubt – or, perhaps, some other clue, one that sat equally beyond Pansy’s present reach.
“Do you see anything?” she asked, half-hoping the answer was no, if only because the alternative proved far more frightening.
Ren shook their head. “No footprints. Just some scattered leaves, a few animal droppings. You’re certain this is where you saw them?”
“Positive.”
“Hmm. Then perhaps— Oh!”
Oh, gods. They’d found something, hadn’t they? It hadn’t been her imagination. Someone had been out there, watching her, watching the cottage.
Pansy swallowed, her throat narrowing in what had now become an all too familiar sensation. “What have you found?” she asked, her words nearly upended by the quivering warble that had hooked into her voice.
“Nothing frightening,” Ren assured her, gently disentangling her hand from their tunic. “Whatever you saw, it was probably just an animal. Perfectly normal for the forest.” They smiled.
“I know that,” Pansy protested, her face heating anew. “It just… it was tall. It didn’t really look like an animal…”
Ren shrugged. “Well, I’m not seeing any evidence of anything else having passed through here, and as far as I know, this forest isn’t home to any sort of horrifying monster.”
“‘As far as you know’, huh? That isn’t exactly a reassuring qualifier…”
“Pansy, I’ve been roaming these woods since the day I took my first steps. So, take the good news for what it is and come look.”
They were right about one thing, at least: it was good news – even if it made Pansy look like a fool. But she supposed that was par for the course at this point, a thought that registered with an undeniably sour note alongside the heat pooling in her cheeks.
With Ren tugging insistently on her arm, she had no choice but to follow.
Pansy’s brow furrowed as they led her to what otherwise looked to be a perfectly normal bush.
It was only once they’d pushed aside one of its boughs, revealing a cluster of tiny blue flowers, each sporting five finely tipped petals, that she understood.
“They’re like little stars,” she murmured, squatting down beside Ren so that she could take a closer look. She wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the moonlight, seeping through the dense canopy overhead in narrow beams of silver, but the flowers seemed to glow amid the surrounding darkness.
“Goblins call this particular flower Wayfinder,” Ren explained, their eyes equally bright. “It blooms only on nights that the Goblin Market is open.”
Pansy’s eyes widened. “Does that mean…?”
They grinned. “Want to go?”
Absolutely, Pansy wanted to say. However, when she opened her mouth to reply, the words simply wouldn’t come.
Because what was the point? Today had shown that Haverow would never accept Ren.
In fact, they’d probably never accept Pansy either.
Could she really believe that Ren’s clan would prove any different?
Sure, they wouldn’t kick out a goblin for the high crime of being “weird”, but that meant nothing when the person in question wasn’t even a goblin to begin with.