Lunch Date

[Hakon]

12th Glade, 4623

Hakon had never thought he'd be so lucky as to return to Northradica. He barely remembered the land he was from, but as he got closer to Osthwick, he noticed that people looked a bit like him, sometimes: tall and muscular but not overly broad. Most of the people had lighter hair than he did, and some had lighter eyes, but he remembered very well that his dad's hair was almost black compared to the villagers', so presumably that was why he was a bit starker looking than many of his countrymen. As he continued North along the river to Oxentide, he felt more and more at peace. The mountains, still redolent with snow, the chill in the air, the deciduous trees giving way to evergreens, the stark, desolate beauty of it. He hadn't known how much he craved it again until he saw it, but once he caught his first view of Northradica, he couldn't stop smiling.

The further north he traveled, the colder it got, and the more he liked it. He had never developed a taste for some Northradican things, like mead, but he was starting to warm up to it. It went with the local cuisine really well, for one thing, and it lit a fire in the belly that made riding all day a bit easier. He found the people friendly, even when they saw the guild sigil on his neck. He wasn't sure if it was because they could tell he was from here, or if they were just less inclined to be frightened than the villagers near his tower. IN any case, though, it felt nice to be seen and treated as something other than a useful leper, though he cautioned himself not to get used to it.

Oxentide was grand, cold, and old. Andros' letters had mentioned that his friend had established something of a permanent business up here, and given up peddling. Hakon had many questions about this, but with the letters being written, and presumably read to him, by his business partner, he kept most of them to himself, and just sent back his congratulations and a heartfelt wish for prosperity. In his mind, it was well-deserved; Hakon had been traveling through Radenor for the better part of a decade. He was heartened that the man had been putting away enough to save up for a venture like this. If Hakon himself had any wealth to spare, he would have co-invested, but he donated what he didn't spend, so he was not exactly flush with cash.

Hakon had sent word ahead in the last major town he'd stopped in that he'd be on time for their meeting, and the location was hard to miss: a large gastropub in one the city's numerous squares. Even in Frost, there were market stalls and people energetically trading, buying, and selling, mostly hot food and drinks, and the sort of perishables people needed to get through their day: ingredients for making supper, rations of lamp oil, and so on. Hakon was rather unaccustomed to commerce, still, and tried not to gawk at it as he waited by a table next to a small window in the thick stone wall of the restaurant for Andros to arrive. It had been no few years since he'd last seen the man, and he found himself looking forward to it.

[Andros]

o----(::::::::::>

People in Northradica are on time for things, rather strictly. That was hard for Andros to get used to, having lived much of his life in a land without clocks and where time was approached rather casually. I’ll come by in the evening when it gets cool was a detailed enough plan, and if you forgot and got to it tomorrow nobody cared. But that approach cost him business in Oxentide. People are busy and don’t like to be kept waiting. Andros had to get with the program, and internalized it to the point that he was stressed to look at the time and see that he was going to be a few minutes late to meet Hakon.

He hurriedly put on a heavy cloak - even in glade the weather was intolerably cold this far to the north - and rushed out, waving goodbye to Dorothea and Ajax. He walked the short distance from his shop out onto the square and then to the restaurant, where he saw Hakon’s face in the window.

It gladdened his heart to see him, looking healthy and all in one piece. Andros had made many friends on his travels but none he missed as much as Hakon, whom he thought of as almost like family. He was especially excited to introduce him to Dorothea and the kids. Maybe he’d like to be Uncle Hakon? He could be such a good influence on the younger ones - loyal and brave and hardworking, good honest values you saw less of living in the city.

Andros dreamed of making another circuit of Radenor and visiting his all old companions, but he’d simply been too busy. Getting the shop off the ground, gaining admittance to the merchant’s guild, establishing a social life - it all took time. And the spare hours he had were mostly spent caring for the younger grandchildren, who sorely needed a paternal presence even into their teenage years. Though travel was out of the question, this was a good way to spend his old age, Andros thought. He was occupied by interesting challenges and surrounded by a loving, if smaller family. He could do worse.

When he came inside he stopped to warm his hands by the fire - they seemed to get colder every year, then found Hakon and greeted him warmly. When the big mage stood to greet him, Andros pulled him into a hug that would have knocked the wind out of a smaller man and kissed him on both cheeks.

“Hakon, my friend! It is so good to see your face. Welcome to Oxentide. How were your travels?”

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[Hakon]

He hadn't known what to expect. Letters don't tell you if someone looks as they had, and in his limited experience, aging could strike down formerly healthy men, leaving them as crippled wisps of their former selves. He'd wondered, privately, if Andros' decision to stay in one place had been motivated by limitation and not business acumen. Seeing the man in person now, he was relieved to see that he had been worrying for nothing.

He rose to greet Andros, enfolding him in an embrace.

"I've missed you," Hakon said, as though the hug had not amply demonstrated that.

He pulled back as abruptly as he'd initiated the touch, and returned to his seat.

Andros looked good, he thought. Life in one place agreed with him. He was built more solidly and he seemed better rested. The safety and security of four walls and a roof over his head must be helping. Maybe, Hakon thought with no small longing, having his family nearby helped as well.

"I don't believe anything extraordinary happened on my journey here, Andros, but it was my first time coming North since I was very young, indeed, so it was quite exciting for me. Northradica really does feel like home in a way I can't quite describe. It is silly, I think -- I left when I was four or so years old. I wasn't even able to help with the farm, or our portion of it, and I mostly remember our little house, our old donkey, and the evergreen trees covered in snow."

"Even so, seeing all of it again with adult eyes feels..." he trailed off. "I really love it here, I think. I like Jorikford well enough, but Northradica is home. I didn't know how good it would feel to be back."

He belatedly realized he was rambling. "Ah, my apologies, my friend. I did not know I had so much to say. What about you? How is life here in Oxentide, apart from cold? How is your family and your business?"

[Andros]

o----(::::::::::>

You just didn’t meet people like Hakon in the city. Yes, he was literate and learned by Andros’ standards, but he was also honest and down to earth in a country sort of way that Andros greatly valued.

“Oxentide has been kind to me, though I miss my cart and my flock, and especially my friends in Jorikford. And very especially one friend in particular,” Andros added with a smile, gently punching Hakon in the shoulder.

“Let me buy you dinner. I have more money in my pocket than the last time you saw me. I mentioned in my letters that we’ve got a wine business going, myself and my daughter Dorothea. Her eldest son is our agent aboardship to Teos, though he’s in town at the moment - you’ll meet him and the others today. The younger ones help in the shop.”

Andros ordered himself a mead, which he had developed a taste for after forcing himself to drink it as a way to fit in here in Northradica. It wasn’t wine, but it wasn’t half bad either.

After toasts, he gave Hakon the brief story of his business. He could talk for hours about the in and outs, but he limited himself to what people here called the Seagull Shit Summary - brief enough to pitch to a potential investor while you’re helping him clean seagull droppings off his cloak - a regular occurrence in this port town.

“The long and short of it is that the Norunn love wine, but it’s too expensive. We have only one small ship and the transit costs per barrel are astronomical. That means I have to charge too much, which means only the very wealthy can afford it. And the nobility is too hidebound to try something new, so our customer base is limited to the nouveau riche. We’re making a small profit, but what we need is to expand to a fleet of larger ships. Then we can bring in wine at different price points and win a bigger market share. Then we’d really be in business.”

And to get those ships, he needs an investor, which is where Hakon comes in, hopefully gaining him an entree with the Oxenfreys. Andros explained as much in his letters. But it seems gauche to bring that up before they’ve caught up so he changes the subject back to Hakon.

“Enough, my line of work is less exciting than yours. I’ll admit when I get a letter from Vesterhal I get more worried than excited, half expecting the worst news. It’s good to see your missions have left you all in one piece.”

He looks out the window, becoming thoughtful.

“My mind often returns to Heinrich many years ago, how brave he was. I know he was special to you. He’s not forgotten.”

Andros meant it. He never let that locket leave his person since Hakon and Heinrich rescued it. He was also giving Hakon an opening to tell him if there was another special man in his life, if perhaps he’d found more happiness in that regard.

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[Hakon]

Hakon was all too happy to rely on his friend's generosity. For one thing, it would be rude to refuse. Hakon didn't have the firmest grasp of the finer points of etiquette, but he knew that much. For another, he didn't have all that much money, really. Or, he didn't think he did. His concept of money was nebulous; he mostly just took the cheapest option he could stand and saved his money in the event that some tragedy struck.

If it came to it, he could ask any Northradican Sponsor for more money, and in theory they would provide it, but he wanted to be able to provide something in return. His Sundering kit had not seen use since he traveled northward, a fact that gave him no small amount of anxiety. He had earned this newfound freedom at the pleasure of Lady Byqvist, and she could just as easily send him home if she felt he was not doing a good enough job.

He nodded along as Andros pontificated about his business. None of it really made much sense to him, but he could tell it made sense to Andros, and it was clear from the way the man talked that he had thought about this a good deal. Hakon had never learned much about money or what to do with it; his position in society ensured that he did not have all that much use for it, except for small comforts or art.

He was surprised when Andros brought up Heinrich. He thought of the small granite headstone back in Jorikford. Many people had visited it for the first year or two, but now, if anyone other than Hakon did, he wasn't aware of it.

"He was... well. He was special," Hakon admitted. "Although he was not a kind man, he was a good one. I no longer think of him as often, though I still visit his grave from time to time to keep it clean and to ensure he can feel he is not forgotten. He was important to me."

In the time since he had known Heinrich, Hakon had come to know some other things about himself, and had realized that his feelings for the Watchman had been romantic. His brow furrowed as he looked at Andros. Had the man known this whole time, years before even Hakon had?

"But no, there can be nothing of the sort, Andros. I cannot marry, nor can I provide a family to anyone who would have me. It would be unfair to them. There was, perhaps, one time that I thought," he stopped talking to drink, lapsing into silence. He didn't want to talk about Ajax.

"I was foolish. It was clear that what I thought was occurring was nothing of the sort. I have not been so stupid as to attempt such a thing since that time, though there have been chance encounters whereupon I have been tempted."

He knew he should ask Andros a question, give the other man a chance to talk, but maybe something safe. "How did you come to encounter Dorothea? Did you write to her in Teos and have her move out here to work with you? Are she and your grandchildren adjusting to Northradica from Teos? I imagine it is quite a different place from what they were accustomed to."

[Andros]

o----(::::::::::>

Andros cursed himself silently. Hakon looked upset. Andros was being his nosy self and he’d stuck his thumb right into a sore subject. Now Hakon was giving him a chance to escape and change the topic. But he felt guilty and gave a quick apology first.

“Sorry, I put my foot in my mouth. Terrible habit.”

Then he gratefully moved along.

“It’s a bit of a long story, all to do with her husband Fell. I know I’ve mentioned him to you, he’s the one who was a Northradican. He and I didn’t see eye to eye and I recall saying some uncharitable things about him when we’d been drinking a few years ago. Please don’t mention that to Doro when you meet her, by the way,” he added with a chuckle.

“Anyway he died several years ago and she took her children and came here, hoping to find me and meet Fell’s people. They’re the noble family I wrote you about. No luck there but she tracked me down and the rest is history”

He tapped the table with his fingers, narrowing down the immense detail he’d like to express about his family into a digestible form, as if pouring it into a funnel.

“My daughter and her children are doing quite well. All of them prefer it here. It’s more advanced, of course, and the women are free so obviously they love it. They come and go as they please, and the younger boy barely remembers Teos anyway. We had some trouble with the older boy at first. He ran away from home and apparently had a hard time of it - got some scars he won’t explain - but he’s straightened out into a fine young man.”

Andros leans in, a little conspiratorially. “He goes in your direction, you know, and his mother kept on him to marry a woman. That’s one reason he left home. But now they’re on better terms. He’s taken up with a furrier, looks a lot like you actually. Big strapping Northradican boy. But that’s lucky for you, because if they weren’t together I might be putting the matchmaker moves on you right now, forbidden or not,” he added with a wink.

He sat back up, having talked more than enough, and passed the baton back to Hakon.

“Tell me, I know they wouldn’t let you out of Jorikford just to make an old friend happy. What business did they send you on?”

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[Hakon]

Andros was clearly in good spirits. He often was, which was something Hakon appreciated about him. He knew he tended toward being dour and doleful. By comparison, Andros was the life of any party. His serious nature did not seem to bother his friend, which was a relief because Hakon had no intention of being someone he wasn't.

The news of Andros' family was interesting. He remembered Andros, once very in his cups, telling him that being in Northradica and knowing Hakon had reversed Andros' low opinion of his countrymen due to this son-in-law of his. Hakon bore Andros no ill will for that. Fell sounded like exactly the sort of soft, spoiled idiot that Hakon had little patience for. As for tarring all Norunners with the same brush, well, it was quite a human thing. Hakon, for his part, did not trust people from Daravin even if they were perfectly ordinary, kind folk. Something about being hunted down by a few of their more homicidal brethren had caused him to mistrust anyone of that nationality, and so far he had found little to indicate that his bad faith was ill-placed. The least he could do was understand that same impulse in his friend, and not hold it against him.

Hakon appreciated the compliment for what it was: playful compliments, and a sign that Andros thought highly of him. He knew he didn't have to explain to the man that he took his oaths seriously, because he'd just gotten done doing so, and also because Andros knew him quite well.

He also knew the by-laws of the Guild decently well from trading with them all these years, so Hakon knew better than to try and spin a yarn for Andros. It would ring false and just end up sounding more suspicious.

"I've been given dispensation by a friend of the Guild to spend more time outside so that I can improve my skills." Hakon said, choosing his words carefully. "She lives in Northradica and has a townhouse in Oxentide, which she has graciously allowed me lodging in. I hope to make her proud."

Andros' talk of money made him wonder how rich his friend was now. Hakon hadn't given it much thought before, but the Endornotkun needed rich, well-connected merchants. Sunderscraps were valuable, and buyers who understood their value and could pay their full worth were not easy to come by. Andros was a bit of a soft touch, so he was not entirely certain his friend would be interested in the ideology of the society, but it was certainly worth testing the waters, in time. For now, it would be best to focus on helping Andros. If that ingratiated the man to him and made him interested in helping the Endornotkun, so much the better, but Hakon would be happy to help his friend in any case.

"What happened with the noble family here in Oxentide when your daughter -- Dora, I think you may have said? -- tracked them down? You said they were no help with your venture? Have they perhaps fallen on hard times?" It had to be either that or that they were just not interested in the venture but were too poilte to outright say so.

Hakon did not have a lot of experience with nobility, and the ones he did know saw him more as a useful workman than a peer, but it was unusual for them to turn their backs on family like this, even if the people coming to them for aid were foreign. Family was family.

[Andros]

o----(::::::::::>

“They must really trust you, lad,” Andros replied, smiling and slapping Hakon on the back. “I know they don’t like to give you boys so much freedom. You’ll be running that tower before too long, mark my words.”

Andros was intrigued by this mysterious benefactor who was Hakon’s keeper here in the city, but he had the sense Hakon was already telling him all that he could. The Guilds can be secretive, though of course no mage in Radenor seems to take that quite so seriously as Hakon. His I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you never quite sounds like a joke. Other mages tended to gossip, and that gossip was eagerly received in other towers as a sort of currency.

Fell’s family has proven to be as much of a disappointment as the man himself. Andros’ low opinion of the nobility hasn’t changed one iota over the years. He discovered Doro and her children - sons and daughters of one of the greatest houses in Northradica - living in near penury when he first joined them in the city.

He let out a derisive snort when Fell asked about their situation. “No, they’ve got more money than anyone could spend. You can’t throw a rock in this town without hitting a property they own or some public building with their name on it. You should hear the way the locals kiss their asses, it’s disgraceful.”

He took a sip of his mead, using the break to moderate his tone, and continued. “Fell’s aunt, who I suppose is the great aunt of my grandchildren…what does that make her to me? Great aunt in law? Anyway, what was I saying? Yes, this Aunt Ingrid is the only member of the family we’ve ever spoken to. She gave my daughter a tiny loan and got her eldest an apprenticeship when they first came here. We haven’t heard from her since. The head of the household, the Jarl of Othswick, apparently ordered the family to ice us out. He’s afraid we’ll push our claim to an inheritance for my grandchildren.”

He shook his head, sadly. “We could, legally speaking. We have Fell’s signet ring, and his eldest son could be his twin - well, a shorter twin, anyway. But you don’t go up against a jarl in court. It wouldn’t be pretty. All we want from them is an investment to set our business on a stronger footing so we can set up my grandchildren - and theirs! - for a decent life.

Dinner arrived and that distracted Andros for a moment. A delicious stew with crab, shrimp, and the fish of the day that was the pub’s specialty. He’d put on a good 20 pounds since he moved to the city. After a first bite he continued.

“Now I can’t even get a meeting with them. That’s where I was hoping you might be able to help, just to get our foot in the door. I need to can explain that we don’t want a real inheritance or any public acknowledgement, and we don’t want to join the family. We just want the help that’s due to family. I rescued Fell when he washed up in my village, saved his life when his past caught up with him, and let him marry my daughter against my better judgment. It’s the least they can do.”

That was more than enough on that subject. He took a few more bites and changed the topic.
“It’s Doro, by the way. Dorothea to you unless she tells you otherwise. We’re big on nicknames. The kids are Jaxy, Harry, Spasia, and Riki. Hopefully everybody’s home when we’re done with dinner and you can meet them.”

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[Hakon]

Hakon was no gourmand, but to him the meal was odd, but delicious. Years in Jorikford had gotten him more used to the meat, wheat, and vegetables of that land versus the seafood of Northradica, but it was nice nonetheless. He imagined his parents eating food like this, although in reality he knew that they both had been far too unfortunate to afford such finery as a meal in a restaurant with fresh caught seafood. Still, perhaps for a feast day or similar. He didn't know much about their lives, and he was fairly certain he never would, but he liked to imagine it hadn't all been penury, duty, and servitude, that there had been good days where their hearts were lighter, too.

Andros' concerns pulled him back to the present, which was just as well. Thinking about his family just made him sad.

"I'd say it's outrageous for them to behave in such a way, but my feeling is that they either do not believe you or they wish to avoid a scandal. The fact that you have a signet ring from their family means a great deal. Those can be copied, of course, as can anything, but it's rather a lot of trouble to go through for someone from another country to book passage all the way to Oxentide and claim an inheritance. If you were looking to pull off some kind of scheme, why not practice closer to home where you blend in better and know the customs more intimately?"

"If you have more than just the ring, I think I can do my best to help. Even with just the ring, I think we can try, though it may be difficult. A jarl and his family are not ones you want to tangle with, so I'm glad you wish to stay out of the courts. They would be just as likely to side with him even if there was overwhelming evidence to the contrary. To do otherwise could suggest that they doubt his ability to rule."

"My feeling is this can be resolved quietly but in plain sight, either with an acknowledgement of your grandchildren's bloodline that coincides with a renunciation of any claims to their titles and holdings, or no such acknowledgement but providing a sinecure to you and some members of your family, and a monthly allowance. My understanding is that such things are not uncommon. Most of the nobility of Northradica is too busy fighting off actual threats to be idle or have affairs, but in places where it's safer and they have less to do, infidelity seems to be something of a popular past-time," he said contemptuously, "so there is a bit of a system set up to accommodate it without looking it right in the eye."

The fact that they could marry and could honor their spouses and children, but chose not to in favor of base hedonism was maddening, but plenty of people were fools, and rank and title did not automatically make someone infallible.

"Even if I did not want to, it would be my duty to help you. Guildmages are supposed to help the needy and uplift the unfortunate. I don't think you are needy or unfortunate any more, particularly, but compared to someone of such privilege, it seems you could use my aid. Besides, I would be happy to attempt to help a friend, though I am less use in a study than I am in combat. I'd suggest using my status, such as it is, to secure an appointment. Beyond that, I'm no legal expert, and I don't typically talk to people of such importance, so I'll just do my best not to bring dishonor to your cause."

[Andros]

o----(::::::::::>

That was all Andros wanted to hear. If Hakon could get his foot in the door, he was sure he could charm the family. Ajax could help there, as the grieving eldest son who looked just like his father. And Dorothea, the grieving widow, perhaps she could be convinced to be too upset to speak much.

“That’s very kind of you, lad. You do well by your old friend. And think of the return I’ll get on my investment in this dinner,” he added with a chuckle.

Andros was pleased, but his mood was spoiled by something he’d been holding back. It was rather cowardly of him, but he hadn’t wanted to spoil their nice time. He hasn’t been willing to dictate this particular detail to Dorothea or the children to go in a letter either. But he couldn’t very well allow Hakon to meet the Oxenfrey’s without knowing the whole truth.

“Before you agree, though, I need to make you aware of some…unsavory details about Fell. You’ve heard my litany of complaints about him as a son in law but there’s more. In Radenor, before he came to Teos, he was…”

He struggled to get it out. No guild mage can tolerate an iconoclast, but Hakon’s hatred of them knows no bounds. Andros learned the hard way not to mention then if he didn’t want a long tirade. But now it was unavoidable.

“Well he was an iconoclast, fleeing the…” he struggled for the name, “Scarlet Guys. You know what I mean. And he was a wanted criminal besides. By the time I found out, it was too late.”

He left out that “too late” meant his daughter’s honor had already been sullied - which meant a lot to Andros and nothing to Hakon. And he skipped over his own protection or the wanted man through bribery - which would mean a lot to Hakon and nothing to him. Hakon didn’t need to know.

“That’s the truth, unfortunately. I hope you don’t hold against Doro or his children. If you don’t want to go see the Oxenfreys given all that I’d understand.”

In the years they had known one another, Hakon had been unfailingly loyal and decent to him, though he’d seen glimpses of a deep anger underneath. Andros strongly suspected Hakon would come through for him now, but he felt he had to give him this out.

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