#august 1614

She took position on one side of the field, tossing the spear from one hand to the other before going into a ready stance.

Jon attempted his own stance, but it was a little loose. Ivy couldn’t help but notice.

“Sort your feet out, you’re too close.”

“Oh,” he spread them out a little. “Like this?”

“That’s it, if your feet are too close together you can be more easily unbalanced.”

“Ah, alright. Thanks. So how do we start?”

“How about…?” Ivy shot forward with a jab from her spear. She found that she quite liked the range on it. She half expected her magic to poke out, but it still seemed to recognise a sparring match.

“Holy-” Jon leapt back in surprise, barely blocking the strike with his sword.

“On your toes, soldier!” Ivy admonished, but only to tease - especially as she missed with the next strike.

“On your toes yourself!” Jon couldn’t come up with a retort quickly enough, but swung at Ivy’s legs. She danced away and lightly poked Jon in the side.

“How familiar are you with a sword?” she asked.

“I’m better at wrestling,” he admitted. “I almost beat Gus when I met him,” his next strike missed, and Ivy’s retaliation grazed his ribs before moving away.

“Then why did you make one?” she’d at least had some experience with a spear! And it was easy to make.

“I had some informal training three years after the attack. I was like, ten, though. I thought I would remember more of it.”

Jon’s eyes focused and he managed to swing in a nice arc close to Ivy’s shoulder. Her block missed, and she mentally cursed, partially because she hadn’t needed to waste energy blocking in the first place.

“And you didn’t think to ask for practice to make sure, in the five days it took to get here?”

Jon paused in place, considering. “Well, when you put it like that…”

His next jab had him stumbling over his feet, nearly falling over as Ivy narrowly dodged.

“What are we going to do with you?” she shook her head in that kind of adult way that was really annoying to any student. She then reached up behind Jon and bopped him on the head with the blunt end of the spear while he was recovering.

“What you’re going to do is put up with me. Otherwise I’m sending Beck after you,” his next jab was much better, using the momentum from standing to his full height and turned to face her from an odd angle.

Ivy blocked with the length of the spear and got out of range.

“I suppose I’ll have to, but know that I might not always be able to come to the rescue. Green’s okay with a sword and I have no idea what Morgana’s like, but those Fae found me easy.”

That made Jon pause, and he began to circle Ivy cautiously, looking for an opening.

“I mean, what else am I going to do?” he asked. “I have to get her back.”

Jon spotted his opening and jabbed at Ivy’s side. Her block half succeeded, deflecting most of the force but still getting tapped on the ribs.

“I know. I get it, I do. It’s my damn fault in the first place. I just, want to trust you to look after yourselves so no one else gets stuck there.”

“I will. I’ll fight with my bare hands if I have to,” Jon appeared deadly serious, and his seriousness led to a better strike against Ivy’s head. She didn’t get a block up in time as she staggered back, missing her next strike. There was a brief bloom of pain in her head, but Jon hadn’t hit hard.

“I believe you. It doesn’t make me worry any less though.”

“Don’t. Worry distracts you. It makes you vulnerable,” his next strike was weaker and bounced off Ivy’s spear as she blocked, but she missed her next strike anyway.

“How can I not? I’ve seen Green fight, and you seem to know what you’re doing, and Morgana… I’m sorry I know you’re both adults, but only just!” Morgana was seventeen and Jon was younger than that!

“I know. But you have to trust us. Otherwise, you’ll have too much to think about,” his next swing was almost perfect, seeming to flow around her spear to land with the point on her chest. “Please, trust me.”

Ivy held her spear vertically and used it to gently push the sword point to the side. “I want to, and you’re right. There’s too much to think about already. I just, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt,” that line was so cliché it was painful. “Last time I came in here I was supposed to protect your sister, that’s what she hired me for. And, well, that clearly fell down the well.”

“You did protect her. Think about it: she would have gotten kidnapped regardless. You being there is what’s going to save her, because without you, she would have been gone without a trace. But with you, we know what happened. We can find her.”

Ivy just… stared. She had not thought about it like that, and hadn’t realised how much she needed to hear it.

To her great embarrassment she felt the back of her throat burn. She screwed up her face and got into a ready stance, determined to just get lost in the sparring. Her stance broke down pretty quickly, her spear point dipping into the dirt.

“I needed to hear that,” she admitted quietly, trying and failing to keep her voice level.

Jon dropped his sword and put a hand on her shoulder. “You can cry,” he said quietly.

A million swear words flashed through Ivy’s mind. It wasn’t supposed to be happening, she was supposed to be in control of herself, this wasn’t…

A few tears did drop, but she scrubbed them away. “We’re supposed to be training.”

“Can’t train if you can’t see through tears.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she muttered without realising, and instantly regretted it. Damn the Guard. Damn the Coalition to obscurity and oblivion!

Jon’s brows knitted together in concern. “…What was the first time?”

“The Guard. The fucking Guard,” she growled. “Fuck, why now?! Why do I think about this shit now?!”

She backed away and flung her spear at one of the targets. It missed and landed in the ground, causing a surge of anger that made her roar into the night. It faded as quickly as it arrived, leaving Ivy breathing heavily.

--

You thought it would be a sparring match, surprise! It's emotions!

We were using dice I think for this, it's been a while, can't remember

This did not, in fact, make Ivy shut up, she just started making snorting noises as she began breathing in too quickly from silent laughter.

Green groaned and hid her face in her hands. “And this is what I get for offering my help…”

Ivy struggled to control herself, regularly breaking into fits of giggles even when she thought she’d recovered. “So-sorry!”

Morgana shook her head in bemusement and nibbled on her buttered bread and jerky, occasionally offering a few pieces of jerky to Eamon.

“You know what? I’ll see that we get some supplies before heading off.” Green deliberately ignored Ivy still chuckling away. “I’ve already eaten anyways. Where’s your Infirmary?”

Morgana half winced at the mention of the Infirmary, which Ivy noticed.

“You okay there, Morgana?”

“Hmm?” she glanced towards Ivy, surprised at the perception. “Oh uh, yeah. I’m fine,” she offered her most convincing fake smile.

“Okaaay,” Ivy was entirely convinced, but turned back to Green, using her fingers to make her point. “So the infirmary’s out the door, down the corridor, turn left and keep going until the smell of herbs and clean linen overwhelms you.”

“Aaalright,” Green dragged out the word as she tidied up her luggage, then only picked up her satchel before making her way towards the door. “Mind keeping an eye on my bag?”

“Can do,” Ivy and Morgana continued to eat.

---

Green followed the directions, and soon found her way to the right door.

“Hello?” she asked, stopping in the doorway.

“One minute!” there was movement at the back as the nurse present finished making one of the beds. She was short, about the same height as Ivy give or take, with brown hair partially hidden under a white cap.

She was quickly finished, standing up straight and dusting her hands off before approaching Green. “Can I help you?”

“I’m hoping to get some travel supplies. We don’t know how long we’ll be gone, we might need something for emergencies,” she held out her hand. “I’m Green.”

“Dawn,” the nurse shook her hand. “I can definitely prepare some travel herbs and medicine. Where are you headed?”

“Well, hard to say. Somewhere in the Western Forest…”

“Hmmm,” Dawn didn’t seem concerned by this. “Let me see what I can do,” she moved to a workspace pushed into the corner of the infirmary and started to examine the hanging herbs. “What brings you to Fort Stiofán then? Just passing through?”

“No, we’re meeting with our group of travellers. We’ll spend this day and tomorrow preparing and then make our way to the forest.” Green grinned sheepishly. “Well, now that I think of it, I am just passing through, aren’t I?” 

Dawn chuckled. “I suppose. From where did you come?”

“I’m a music teacher and storyteller from Noefrach, but I’ve been travelling the kingdom for a few months now. Is this a permanent assignment for you?”

“Me?” Dawn was starting to grind herbs. “More of a permanent volunteer position. I came here after… the second Enemy attack.”

“Ah, I see. So, what are you making me?” Green sauntered forwards, trying to get a glimpse of Dawn’s work at the table.

“A simple salve to help with wounds and stave off infection. Also echinacea for flu symptoms… feverfew for fevers… Just the basics.”

“Hhm, good. To be honest, I was never all that good with nature. I can make an instrument out of plants, but not medicine!”

Dawn smiled. “My parents taught me most of it.”

“Hmm,” a sad smile crossed Green’s lips. “My parents wanted me to be a doctor, but I guess your parent’s teaching methods were more successful than theirs.”

“Hm. We all have our own way to make in the world. The king is an example of that,” Dawn wrapped the herbs in several bundles.

“Very true!” Green glanced at the herbs. “To be honest, now that we’re actually going there, I am a little nervous. Have you ever been to the Western Forest?”

“No… I grew up near Fionport before it was Fionport - working in the sanitariums with my family. Came here after everything started.”

“It can be a truly enchanting place, but only if you know where you are and how to get back home…”

“Oh, I can be hopeless with directions.”

“Well then, be glad you haven’t recently decided to embark on a suicide mission, as I have,” Green let out a nervous chuckle.

“You aren’t going alone I hope-?” Dawn looked up from her work.

“No, not at all! That would be… good lords, I won’t even think about that! As far as I know, I’ll be accompanied by Ivy Paris, Morgana Sprewraith and Jon Quillan. I don’t think anyone else is joining us,”-  certainly not this late anyway, Green added in thought

“You are among good company, then.”

“That I am. I just hope I’ll still be when I come back.”

Dawn smiled and handed Green the bundles of herbs and the new medicines. “Follow your instinct and you will be successful. That’s what Father used to say anyway.”

“Didn’t you get my letter? I’m coming with you.”

“Yes, and I sent a reply telling you no,” Ivy stubbornly went back to her work, trying to make it clear that she didn’t want to continue this conversation. Whether it would work was another matter.

“And then I sent a reply telling you yes,” he walked into the forge and looked over her shoulder.

“I didn’t get it,” Ivy moved so he wasn’t over her shoulder. “I’ve been here all day today and yesterday,” she added through gritted teeth.

“Well, then I’ll reiterate: I’m going. I’ll try not to go alone, but I doubt I’ll find anyone else willing to go with me. You have absolutely no obligation to worry about my safety, though, so don’t worry about it!”

“I will be worrying about it anyway,” it was just another addition to the stress and nerves building in her belly. “Since I can’t seem to convince you to leave it, fine. You can stick around. Only if you get approval from everyone else who’s coming.”

“And also-” Jon stopped, confused. “Wait, you’re agreeing? Just like that?”

“You’re not giving me much of a choice, and I’m not in the mood for a fight,” Ivy slammed the hammer down a bit harder than she meant to. “If everyone else agrees, then fine. I’m not happy about it, but fine.”

“Alright,” Jon was a little cowed by her tone. “Where can I find the others? Are they meeting here?”

“Morgana is either in her room or the Archives. Green isn’t here yet.”

“Oh, okay,” he wasn’t sure who those people were, but he made a note of their names. “Do you… want some help with that spear?”

“I’m fine. It should be done by tomorrow,” Ivy used the tongs to pick up her spear head so she could get a better look at the forming shape of the socket. “There’s more metal lying around and a free anvil if you want to make something.”

“Oh, sure. Hey, is Gus going to come? He acted like he might, but you didn’t mention him just now.”

Ivy froze. She had just been thinking that she was glad he hadn’t mentioned Gus.

“Gus isn’t coming.”

“Why not? Is he busy?”

“He’s injured,” it wasn’t a lie, just, leaving out the ‘how’.

“What?” Jon looked over. “He wasn’t when we met, what happened?”

“He broke his hand, I think.”

“Oh man, that sucks… maybe I’ll send him a card or something, do you know where he is?”

“He should be back at the Hold. I haven’t talked to him in a while,” not since they fought and… his hand broke.

“Alright. I’ll do that, then,” Jon picked out some metals from the store.

Ivy nodded and picked up her half made spear. The socket was pretty much done now, just the head to finish. She looked over at Jon, who had got some metal and gotten to work. While she was still annoyed at him, she was also curious.

“What are you going to make?” she asked.

“A short sword. I don’t have one. I have a dagger and a good knife, but I feel like I’ll need something larger,” he held up the metal he’d picked out. “Fae are weak to iron, right?”

“That’s a myth. Annoyingly,” Ivy began to heat her metal again, then hammer it flat, gripping the socket with the tongs. “You do know how long it’ll take to make a sword, right?” in her experience, they could take weeks if you didn’t use a mould.

“Of course. I’ve made one before, for a Guard guy who broke his,” he sandwiched his metal and set the alloy in the forge.

“Alright. I don’t know if we’ll have the time. Just, have to wait until Green gets here,” Ivy heated up the metal again, trying to ignore butterflies in her stomach about the upcoming quest. “That’s one of the reasons I went for a spear. It’s quick.”

“That’s true, but I don’t know much about polearms. At least I’ve worked with swords before.”

“I’m not doing anything fancy, like a halberd. It’s just a basic spearhead. All I care about is it not falling apart.”

Jon chuckled. “Yeah, that’s definitely an important spear quality.”

“I’ll be enchanting it anyway, so it should hold up,” Ivy wiped some sweat off her forehead. It felt about as hot as Tandeli’s Calorona Desert in here. “How’s Beck?” she enquired after Jon’s other sister.

“She’s dead set on finishing the harvest, but she understands why I’m leaving. She’d probably come too if it weren’t for the crops.”

Ivy was suddenly glad that she wasn’t dealing with both of them. She suspected Beck would be worse than Jon on his own, let alone together.

“Well, you have to eat and make money, so… yeah,” she commented.

“We get a bit from the government for our research, but the crops definitely help. We’re growing pumpkins and beans this year.”

“For carving?” Hallow’s Eve was only two and a half months away after all.

“For carving,” Jon agreed, “but mostly for food. We’ll roast the seeds of the small ones.”

“Sounds good. What can you make with pumpkin anyway?”

“Pumpkin bread, pumpkin pie, pumpkin biscuits…” Jon listed off. “Mostly pastries, but the rest of the town has the staples covered. We’ll trade for what we need over the winter.”

“I will have to come around in winter then,” Ivy noted, provided they didn’t die. Yes, she was definitely still worried about that.

“Provided we find her by then,” Jon had different but similar thoughts. “This could take months.”

“We’ve got a plan. We know roughly where we’re going and have an idea how to get there. We’ve been planning this for months.”

“Yeah, but still… the forest is so big, and she might be in an even bigger Fae world…”

“Green has met friendly Fae before, that’s who we’re banking on. And where Jen is, we think we know. Finding her in there and getting her out will probably be the hardest part.”

It was the only part they couldn’t really prepare for. None of them had any idea what they might find.

“Yeah…” Jon stared into the fire as he heated his metal.

Ivy meanwhile hit her spearhead harder than she meant to. “We can do this,” she was mostly talking herself up. “That’s why I’m making this. I’m going to enchant this spear to disperse magic, so that should have some impact against the Fae who took her.”

“Can you enchant my sword too? I can’t… you know,” he wiggled his fingers.

“If you finish in time, then I will try to enchant it.”

“Alright, thanks,” he went back to staring at the heating metal, but his back was a little straighter. “We’re going to do this.”

“Yes. We are.”

This did not settle Ivy’s nerves much, but no one else needed to know that.

___***___***___

 –

“Ivy Paris,

You might remember me from when you returned Jen’s cart. What I didn’t say then was that I wanted to find Jen and bring her back.

Probably impossible, I know, but I can just… I can tell that she’s not dead. I want to at least try to find her. I’ve already talked to your friend Gus and he seemed to think you’d want to try. If you want to, send me a message back and we can meet at Fort Stiofán. 

Hope you had a good summer,

Jon Quillan.”

 –

Ivy felt the urge to bang her head against the desk. She could almost hear the argument she had with Gus blaring in her head. With a heavy sigh she reached for a fresh piece of paper and opened her ink pot to write a reply.

 –

“Jon Quillian,

I am aware of the discussion you and my friend Gus had, and while I sympathise, I cannot, in good conscience, agree to this.

I will bring your sister back. That I swear, but the path I am taking is a dangerous one, and while you might be willing to take it, I would prefer to bring Jen back to her whole family, if you catch my meaning.

I wish you well, and the next time I see you, your sister will be safe and sound.

Ivy Paris”

 –

She folded it and wrote Jon’s name and his village name. She moved that one side and began writing eight copies of the flyer to attract Green’s attention.

‘Ivy Paris looking for Bard Scholar Autumn Green of House Jameson. I need your assistance, I will be at Fort Stiofán. If possible, bring chocolate’

 –

Nice and vague, and Green should know what it meant. All those got put to one side and she wrote one final message.

 –

“Morgana Spewraith

We should be ready to go soon. I’ve contacted Green so come when you can.

Ivy Paris”

 –

That got folded up too and all the pieces of paper were collected and she took the long walk downstairs to the admin station. She dropped Jon’s letter and the flyers off there, before pausing by the notice board. The whole garrison had this tense atmosphere, and now she knew why.

Corrupted writing on the Festival of the Lord’s declarations.

“Dickhead,” she muttered before making her way to the Infirmary. On the way she dodged Bard Keyes screaming about maps. A standard day in Fort Stiofán.

She reached the Infirmary and leaned her head around the door.

“I’m looking for a Roisin Spewraith?”

Leafing through some medical journals and files was a young woman a little younger than Ivy, with bronze brown hair tied up in a bun. She glanced towards the door when Ivy asked for Róisín Spewraith.

“Yes? That’s me,” she paused in what she was doing, and turned to face the door, taking a few steps towards it.

Ivy raised the folded piece of parchment she was carrying. “Hi, I’ve got a message for Morgana? I’m told you’re her sister.”

Róisín smiled warmly and nodded curtly with a hum of affirmation. “I am, I can pass the message along to her once I get my break.”

“Great!” Ivy placed the letter on a table just inside the door. “How long do you think it’ll be before she can reply?” Ivy was trying to calculate how long it would take before they could leave, giving Green about three or four days.

Róisín chuckled. “Well, it depends on how deep into her work she’s gotten and whether or not she’s injured herself in the process,” she paused and placed a finger on her lips in thought. “But if I get the message to her during my break, which is an hour or so, she should be able to reply immediately if it’s urgent.”

“Oh, she’s here?” Ivy suddenly remembered. “Oh yes! She did say she’d be here around the 14th, that is the date today I think,” Ivy shifted position, leaning against the doorway as she thought. “Can you tell her to meet me in the forge? That’s where I plan to be for the rest of the day.”

Róisín nodded again. “Of course! Anything else?”

Ivy frowned for a second before shaking her head. “I don’t think so,” she stood awkwardly before clearing her throat. “I should let you get back to… whatever it was you were doing,” she moved from the doorframe and began to leave.

Róisín picked up the letter from the table and placed it into one of her pockets. “Right, well it was lovely to meet you…” she turned to continue her leafing from where she left off.

Ivy left the room properly, wandered out of the castle and into the courtyard before the outer walls. She had an idea of what she wanted to do now, partially to kill time if she was honest.

The enchantment she had been learning to cast would diffuse magic, and while she knew enchantments weren’t permanent, she couldn’t bring herself to enchant her old weapons. She was probably being sentimental, but that’s how it was. Forging something new would keep her occupied.

Something simple, like a spear. The only metal working required would be the head, which would be quick to finish, only a few days. First things first, a shaft. She found and cut down a branch of wood outside of the garrison that was the right height and width, then brought it back in to trim and strip.

___***___***___

I’m not sure I realised at the time how much Em yelling about maps would date this. 14th August 1614, I believe shit was going down that day

Róisín Spewraith belongs to the wonderful @shamrockace, as does Morgana