The Sheepfold

Jilk doesn’t know how he got into this situation. He simply came into the kitchen to grab a drink, saw Spurgeon and Lenora chatting, was somehow waved over by the woman, and dragged into a conversation he had no right to be in the middle of.

Lenora was chatting both their ears off. Spurgeon seemed rather content in just listening, cleaning some glasses only to put them back onto the counter in no particular order. After the third or fourth time Lenora had asked for his opinion on something Jilk had to speak up.

“Not that I don’t enjoy the company, but what’s with all the friendliness all a sudden?” The queen’s conversations barely included him, barely included any of them if Jilk was being honest about the way the woman seemed to be lost in her own world most the time. He wouldn’t say he hate her company, just found it to be rather foreign.

The way she acted was odd for royalty, not that Jilk had many run ins with nobility. Considering the last king he ever dealt with turned out to be a tyrannical ancient possessed monster, Jilk probably didn’t have much to offer in terms of what was normal. She was leaning across the counter, eyes gleaming as she spoke. Full of life and an imagination he never would have suspected for a human of her age, though to say this out loud would surely earn him a lecture.

Lenora hummed, tracing some unseen pattern into the wood with a finger tip. “Well I only supposed that if we were one day all going to be in-laws we might as well be friendly.”

Spurgeon groaned, “Not that again. For the last time it’s not happening.”

“Not yet maybe.” Lenora said, voice pitch in a sing songy manner, clearly teasing.

This felt like some sort of inside joke, one that Jilk had been unceremoniously pulled into. “Why… why would we ever be in-laws?” Jilk questioned, trying to figure how that would even work out, what the punch line of such a statement would be.

The other two gave him a look, the captain- one of relief, Lenora like somehow he was the strange one.

“See? I’m not the only one who finds you to be completely illogical.” Their captain grumbled.

“Please have you seen those three? They’re so smitten with each other.”

“It’s disgusting.” Spurgeon said, cleaning an already spotless glass with a bit too much force in Jilk’s opinion.

“It’s adorable.” Lenora swooned, “Puppy love is adorable.”

“You have your head in the clouds.” Spurgeon said, irritation growing.

“I- I’m sorry I’m confused.” Jilk was starting to regret not taking Victor up on that cup of coffee this morning. Clearly he is not awake enough for this conversation and is hearing things.

Lenora sat up straighter, “You only say that because you can’t imagine your darling precious daughter having a love life-“

“You say love life, I say three traumatized children who don’t know the first thing about romance-“

“And you don’t understand romance if it hit you upside the head.”

“What are we talking about?!” Jilk shouted, hand slamming down on the counter top to stop the two’s banter.

“Our children. Are. Dating. And she,” Spurgeon spat the words like they personally had offended them. “Insists on them one day being wed.”

What.

“There’s no way.” Jilk said, mind reeling only slightly. Children. His children? No it, it didn’t make sense. How? Why?! When did that happen and why was he only finding out about this now.

“Exactly my point, there’s no way my daughter would marry the likes of your two-“ Spurgeon scrunched up his face, trying to think, “Hooligans anyways. She’s smarter than that.”

Lenora huffed something about how her son was in fact a brilliant boy and would make anyone happy, and proceeded to gush about spring weddings, and floral arrangements, and handed down dresses, and gaining a son and daughter in law, all while Jilk’s head was reeling.

“Zara?” Jilk cut in, dumb founded and trying to make any sense about the bombshell that was any of his kids dating. Because if it wasn’t his only daughter the only other option would be-

“No. Not Zara.” Lenora answered, seeming sly, “getting warmer though.”

“Speaking of, do something about your girl’s… obsession…” Spurgeon commented like Jilk had any idea what THAT particularly meant either.

It didn’t matter because that only left-

“You have got to be joking. For the love of the Ancients, please tell me you know your son is in a relationship. Even if you don’t like it-“

Tristan. His Tristan? The same kid who couldn’t handle someone touching him on a good day, in a romantic relationship… with two people? No. Something had gone horribly, terribly wrong here clearly.

“He can’t be- he would never, I… I think I need a drink.”

The captain blinked at him, disappointment written across his face, “What you need, is a conversation with your kid.”

“Tristan? My kid? You sure?”

“Is there another pink haired elven boy who follows my daughter around like a puppy dog?” Spurgeon deadpanned.

“With her son?!” Jilk exclaimed pointing directly at Lenora.

“The kids literally call him princess- how are you this dense to your own children?!”