Chapter 15 Pansy #2
Pansy remembered the things Ren had said to her in the beginning, all the times they’d mistaken her desire to help – or just to belong, really – for halfling selfishness and gluttony.
She didn’t hold it against them. How could she, when she was far from innocent herself?
Still, the thought of hearing those same words again, from the people Ren considered family, no less – well, it certainly put a damper on the excitement that had swelled in her breast.
And, again, what was the point? Why weather all this pain, this hurt, for a relationship that was already doomed? Because Ren had made their stance on Agvaldir clear. Seeking his aid was a betrayal, one that no number of explanations or apologies could overcome. It was unfair, decidedly so.
Things were different then, she wanted to scream, the words bubbling like acid in her chest. If I’d known you then as I know you now, I never would have gone to Agvaldir for help!
But her mouth stayed shut, lips pinned together as tightly as the gates of a castle under siege.
Better to stay silent, she decided. Stay silent and hope that Agvaldir stayed away, that the shape in the forest was truly just her imagination and not a prelude to the disaster she feared was taking shape on the horizon.
If that happened, then… then maybe her future with Ren wouldn’t be nearly so bleak.
“Pansy?” Ren asked, their voice yanking her back to reality with all the suddenness of a fall from a great height.
“Oh! Yes. Sorry,” she said, the color dusting her cheeks darkening a fraction more. “I-I’d love to go. I was just thinking, that’s all.”
“Thinking,” Ren repeated, their voice oddly toneless.
“About things,” Pansy continued, elaborating with an equally vague gesture.
Cocking their head to the side, Ren watched her for a moment in silence.
Then, mumbling a soft “I’ll be right back,” they disappeared into the darkness of the forest. A minute or so later, they returned, carrying some sort of twig, still flush with feather-like leaves.
Plump red berries dripped from in-between the sheaf of green, bright as a cascade of rubies.
“Here,” Ren said, holding it out to her. “It’s a rowan sprig. It’ll protect you from any wayward charms or spells while we’re at the market.”
“Oh, that’s not what I—” Pansy snapped her mouth shut, realizing the boon she’d been given. Even so, she couldn’t help but ask, turning over the twig in her hands, “Is it really okay for me to go?”
“To the market?” Ren blinked at her. “It should be fine. Everyone there knows me, so they’ll probably at least give you a chance.”
Probably. Not the most encouraging of words, but Pansy supposed it could be worse. “Would bringing along some pie help?” she asked. “I mean, everyone loves pie, right?”
Ren considered her proposal for several moments. “That’s actually a good idea,” they said at last. “The market runs off a barter system rather than the currency you’re probably used to, so you’d need to bring something along to trade anyway.”
“What sort of things are usually for sale?” Pansy asked, unable to deny her burgeoning curiosity.
They smiled at her, the curve of their lips just shy of a smirk. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough. Far be it from me to spoil the surprise.”
The way to the Goblin Market was long and dark, even with a path of tiny luminescent blooms to map every step.
It took two stumbles, one of which nearly sent the pie flying from her basket, for Ren to reach for her hand again. “It’s only going to get darker from here on out,” they said, their eyes two gleaming points in the tarnished gloom. “Stay close.”
It did indeed get darker – something Pansy hadn’t thought possible until Ren pulled her through the gaping maw of a hollowed-out tree.
There, the trail plunged downwards, winding deep into the bowels of the earth, where the occasional Wayfinder, still studding their path, served as the only source of light.
But faint and flickering, these tiny blooms could only illuminate so much, like the stars overhead on a moonless night.
Thank the gods she had Ren to guide her, their hand an anchor amid the warm, weightless black.
Without them, she’d have doubtless walked right into solid earth the moment the tunnel veered to one side, which at this point seemed to be happening every few paces or so.
“It’s just a little further,” Ren said with a reassuring squeeze. “See the light ahead?”
What light? Pansy almost wanted to laugh. I can’t see anything!
But Ren was right. The gloom, stubborn though it was, had started to disperse, chased away by a purplish glow that, while still faint, grew brighter with each step they took in its direction.
Soon, Pansy could even see again. Not perfectly, mind you, but well enough that she didn’t need to rely on Ren any more.
Still, she made no move to remove her hand from theirs – and, for the record, neither did they.
So, when the two of them finally stepped out into some sort of vestibule, its walls more tree root than dirt, they did so hand in hand.
This proved quite the shock to the goblin positioned on the far side of the room, where the roots had formed something like an archway, edged with delicate, drooping boughs of wisteria and iron lanterns bearing purple flames.
“Ren?” the goblin intoned, his eyes going wide. Judging from the dagger strapped to his hip, a perfect mirror of the one Ren carried, he seemed to be some sort of guard, presumably there to keep out undesirables.
Undesirables like her, Pansy realized, her chest constricting as the goblin’s gaze narrowed on her, his fingers already inching towards the hilt of his dagger.
“Halflings aren’t allowed in here,” he said quickly, before Ren had even had a chance to say hello.
“She’s with me,” Ren replied, their chin held high.
The guard scoffed. “Yeah, I can see that. But why?”
“Because…” Ren hesitated, their brow creasing as their lips thinned, seemingly unsure of how to answer.
The question, though deceptively plain in its wording, was not nearly so simple at its core.
What is she to you? the goblin might as well have asked, the very thing Pansy herself had wondered yet feared to know, her heart once again kicking against her ribs.
She awaited Ren’s answer with bated breath, her insides churning with every shift in their expression.
At last, Ren said, unflinching and determined, “Because she’s special to me.”
The goblin let out a snort, the same words that had sent warmth snaking down Pansy’s limbs pulling nothing but derision from him.
“Then let her be special to you somewhere else. We all know that halflings ruin everything they touch. Nothing in those heads of theirs besides me, me, me. No doubt this one didn’t even think of how it’d make you look when she begged you to bring her here. ”
“I’m the one who offered,” Ren corrected, their posture winding a touch more rigid.
Another snort. “Sure you did.”
As Pansy moved to adjust her basket on her arm, the pie proving surprisingly heavy, an idea occurred to her. “What if I trade you a slice of pumpkin pie?” she ventured, peeling back the embroidered cloth covering the top of the basket. “I baked it fresh this afternoon.”
“Are you trying to bribe me?” the goblin asked, eyebrows arching high beneath his shaggy hairline.
Pansy’s eyes widened. Aghast, she shook her head with as much vigor as she could muster. “No! Of course not! I just thought… Ren said that when goblins want something, they trade for it, so I—”
“Thought you’d give me a slice of pie in exchange for letting you in,” the goblin finished for her, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.
Well, amused is better than offended, Pansy thought, though it failed to keep her cheeks from burning.
Seeing an opportunity to cut in, Ren said, “It’s very good pie. Pansy’s an excellent chef.”
“Hmm.” The goblin cocked his head to the side, eyes trained on the pie sitting in Pansy’s basket. “Well, it does look good. And I guess she can pass for a gnome if she covers up those ridiculous ears of hers…”
“Then it’s settled,” Ren declared, their tone unusually clipped. “Pansy, give him a slice. We’ll call it a token of ‘new friendship’.”
For a moment, the goblin seemed like he was going to offer further protest. But as Pansy passed a slice, neatly balanced on a paper napkin, into his outstretched hand, whatever additional arguments might have been building on his tongue promptly vanished.
Granted, that didn’t stop him from offering one last quip, formed around a rather large bite of pie: “If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you, Ren! ”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Ren snapped, already breezing past him with Pansy in tow.
Evidently, the goblin’s comment about her ears had struck a nerve, though Pansy herself wasn’t offended in the least. Her ears were perfectly attractive by halfling standards.
Still, there was something about that whole exchange that left her feeling…
off, as if the world beneath her feet had been knocked slightly off its axis, and the sensation of tucking the rounded shell of her ear beneath several curls only made it register that much more sharply.
“Oh, blessed Nature,” the goblin guard gasped, clutching at his chest with equal melodrama, “that girl’s turning Ren into a halfling!”
Pansy snorted, the words I didn’t realize having table manners turned you into a halfling itching to be let loose.
And they might have, had the sight of the Goblin Market, stretching across the massive cavern that lay beyond the archway in an eclectic mix of cobbled-together stalls and patchwork tents, not swept the very breath from her lungs.