milliways_bar | Happy Hour

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Happy Hour

It's a tired and subdued wizard who straggles into the bar tonight, rests his head on Bar's surface, and is presented with the option to tend. Never one to resist a challenge, regardless of how weary he might be, he nods resolutely. A wave of his hand later, the specials are up on the board.

Baby Aspirin
Morgan's Mountain
Witch's Brew #2 (#1 is busy)

At the very bottom, in tiny golden letters:

Bydd y dyn hwn yn talu am bopeth!*

It's only money, right?

*Drinks are on Howl's tab tonight.

ETA: and we're closed to new threads. Thank you, everyone.

Tag: Alba DeTamble

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"I'm sure she must be to be your partner,"

A witch who's married to a royal wizard would have to be strong.

"She's lovely." Really, she's his perfect foil: headstrong, brilliant, powerful, and cranky. She fills the spaces where he leaves blanks; he softens her edges in ways others might not. He teaches, she surpasses his teachings. "A lovely and beautiful wisp of a thing. She not only puts up with me, but she gave me back my heart when it had gone missing."

That's not even remotely metaphorical, but it can certainly be taken as such. "I'll try to talk her into joining me here. We'll bring our son. He's got to meet the place sooner or later."

"How did you meet?"

It must have been quite a start if this is their normal life.

"It's quite the story, actually." Since he knows he'll be up half the night on Morgan duty, he pours himself a nice strong cup of coffee. "She invited herself into my castle as it was roaming the moors, and strong-armed my fire demon and my apprentice into letting her stay. I was away at the time" -- that seems to be something of a pattern, now that he thinks about it -- "or it might not have happened. She was an old, old woman at the time. I suppose Calcifer felt sorry for her and let her sit and rest by the fire."

Pointing his finger to the cup, the coffee stirs itself, lightening with cream. "Calcifer's my fire demon. Sophie's the only other person who's ever been able to get him to agree to anything."

And they weren't really even under contract to one another.

Moist watches the coffee cup and then Howl with a thoughtful expression,

"I see what you mean about formidable."

"You don't know the half of it. She was close to ninety years old at the time."

If he's matter-of-fact about it, that's because it's all simply part of the story.

"What attracted you to her?"

"Nothing. Not at first. I'm not in the habit of romancing grandmothers. But here's the thing: I don't know what it's like in your world, but in mine, if one's under a curse, he or she is forbidden to talk about it. Not in so many words. One can try, but the words simply won't come. It was precisely because she didn't say anything about her age that I knew she was under the weight of a masterful piece of sorcery."

Now he blows across his coffee, then takes a sip. It's quite good and he'll need to stay awake far into the night. His days of two-hour baths are in the past and he knows it, but he wouldn't trade what he has now for anything.

"Once the curse ended, she regained her youth. I'd met her once, and part of me wondered if she wasn't that same girl in disguise. I'm happy to say she was."

"I don't have any personal experience with curses so I'm not sure. Then what was it that struck you about her that first moment you met?"

To Moist it all sounds rather plausible and like something that probably would happen in Lancre, so many witches.

What was it about her? He remembers the day so well: she was frightened and that's always something he tries to help with. She was lost and he wasn't. She was bound and determined to keep as far away as possible from the soldiers flirting with her, and...

That's it.

"It was a festival. May Day, and everybody was out and about. Sophie was trying to shake off the attention of a pair of the King's soldiers, and I happened to be nearby. I wouldn't exactly say I came to her rescue, but I did manage to turn the tide and get her safely to where she was going. I think... I think what struck me was her determination rising above her trepidation."

Yes, that's it. It wasn't love at first sight; he had no heart with which to fall in love at the time. But admiration was never something he had to divest himself of by contract, so that was still there.

"I can see that, a woman who knows what she wants and is determined is wonderful,"

That's one of the things that Moist enjoys about Saffron.

His eyes crinkle into a tired grin, but the coffee will take care of any Morgan-induced fatigue. "Believe you me, she lost none of that determination as an old woman. If anything, it was doubled."

As far as he's concerned, it's all high compliment. Sophie would know that. He's filled with admiration for her and always has been.

"Did she try to change your life a great deal?"

Apparently that's what happens when you're in a proper relationship.

That evokes the heartiest laugh he's given in a long, long time. "Of course. She cleaned my castle. I don't know what it's like where you're from, but in my world, one doesn't go about snooping in and rearranging a wizard's things. It's simply not done." That it amused him more than annoyed him might be evident, although he still stings at the memory of being ginger-haired.

"She tried to get rid of all the spiders, if you can imagine that. I had to have a chat to her about that one."

All that aside, there was something much more significant that changed at Sophie's hand.

"And she gave me back my heart."

He's not sure what to make of that last statement,

"Had someone taken it or was it involved with that contract you mentioned?"

Shrugging noncommittally, he spreads his hands on Bar's surface.

"No and yes. I'd given it away, you see, figuring I didn't need it. I was young and foolish."

Some might say he's still foolish, but now he's a fool of a different kind entirely.

"As part of a contract. In exchange, I got certain... privileges. Suffice it to say it seemed like a grand idea at the time. But it's all worked out for the best." He rests his hand over his heart, satisfied by the thump-thump in his chest. Sometimes, a heart is a heavy burden but he's so glad to have it back.

"Consider it a lesson learned." And that's all he really wants to say about it.

Moist won't press it,

"Sounds good that you're out of it."

"Oh, yes, yes." Cheerfully, he sips his coffee and directs a rag to Bar's surface to do a little unassisted cleaning.

"How's the drink? Need a refill?"

He might even be brave and fetch the bottle himself this time. He motions to a young lady who's just sat further down the bar that he'll be right over.

"I'm fine, go take care of your other patrons. It was good to talk with you."

"And you. I've got your tab, by the way. Part of the deal tonight." He points out the small gold letters on the bar.

This gentleman will pay for everything, goes the translation and he means it. It's his way of celebrating the birth of his son, who's no longer a kitten and getting used to the fact.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. I'm Alfred,"

Moist says with a grin as he takes his drink and goes to find a comfortable seat.

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