Damon spent the next few minutes carrying firewood into the house to refill the pile next to the hearth. He kept Malon company as she cooked, drinking a liberal amount of wine and letting himself relax.
“One of Ria’s companions came by the farmstead this morning,” he told her.
Malon looked over her shoulder, splitting her attention between the conversation and a cutting board strewn with carrots, turnips, and red potatoes. “Is that so?”
“I told him to give her a message,” he said. “She’ll be arriving tomorrow, most likely.”
Malon’s knife chopped down against the cutting board with rhythmic taps. She looked caught between two reactions, an eagerness to see Ria, her seta, and the foreboding knowledge of how that reunion might go.
“I may have to leave early, if that’s the case,” she said with a sigh.
“I won’t hear of it,” said Damon. “In fact, I’ll stop you if you try.”
He said it playfully, and she gave him a teasing smirk, but in his heart, he meant it. They needed to see each other, to face each other, if only to get it over with. Damon felt selfish again as he considered how desperately he wanted to see them on good terms once more. Their relationship had always been rocky, and after everything that’d happened, it felt like wishing on a star.
“Sometimes you simply have to accept the way that things are,” said Malon. “There is a freedom of a form, in that.”
“Sometimes, but not all the time.” Damon leaned sideways on his chair, watching her carefully. “If I told you that there was a way to make a change for the better… to the world, and to your crest contract, would you help me pursue it?”
She stopped chopping the vegetables and looked at him seriously, not answering right away. “Have you uncovered something?”
“I need your answer, first.”
She slowly nodded. “I would. In an instant.”
“Even if it meant keeping secrets from Lascivious?”
Malon blinked, aware now of what he was truly asking. Before she could reply, laughter came from the door. Vel and Lilian reentered the common room, freshly scrubbed, hair swaddled in towels, both smelling of lavender and rosehip.
“That was refreshing,” said Lilian. “Thanks again for the soap, Lady Malon.”
She shot a sidelong look at Vel, elbowing her in the ribs.
“…Thank you for the soap, aesta,” grumbled Vel.
“You’re both very welcome,” said Malon, grinning from ear to ear. “Why don’t you get changed? The food should be ready in just a few minutes. Solas, could you bring in some more firewood?”
She’d never given him an answer, Damon noticed, and now with Vel and Lilian back within the tower, the flow of their conversation was completely broken. It stung a bit to think that she might be unwilling to agree to that aspect of helping him, which everything else so obviously hinged on.
He went and collected more firewood from the pile, taking his time as he brought it in. He started toward his room, thinking he might rest for a bit before dinner. Malon caught his hand as he was turning away from the kitchen, reeling him by the arm into a warm hug.
“Yes,” she whispered. “If you were certain of what you said before, and could explain more, and it made sense to me, and if it were not too dangerous or outlandish… I would go along with it even if it meant lying to Seffi.”
He felt a grin sneak onto his face. “I’ll explain everything soon. I’ve just been waiting for… well…”
“For Ria,” said Malon, nodding. “I understand. And I love you. So very much.”
She gave him a slow kiss. Her lips were dry against his, and their foreheads briefly touched as it ended. She smelled so much like the aesta he remembered, perhaps with an extra kick of crimmor.
“Have you always used scented soaps?” he asked.
***
Dinner was ready shortly after. Vel and Lilian had both changed into comfortable nightgowns and sat down on either side of Damon. Malon brought the food over and set to work serving each of them.
The pork roast was cooked to perfection. Damon’s mouth watered as he stared at his thick slice, tender but cooked through, with a thin ribbon of fat running along the edge. The vegetables were sweet, but faintly so, like the type of food one might expect from a lord’s table.
“I used plenty of garlic and pepper on the pork,” said Malon. “I initially thought of cooking everything together, but that seemed a bit too easy for such a nice cut of meat.”
“Since when did ease of cooking have anything to do with taste?” asked Vel.
“Try it, and you’ll see what I mean,” said Malon. “There’s also plenty of wine, if anyone…”
Damon, Vel, and Lilian each stuck their cups in her direction before she’d even finished. Malon poured his first, and Damon took a deep sip as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the veritable feast on his plate. Again, he felt so lucky and appreciative to be where he was, surrounded by so many people he loved.
The pork was incredible, rich with flavor and still piping hot. He found himself eyeing the rest of the roast, wondering who he might have to fight for the leftovers. He could take Vel, no doubt, but Lilian would be more of a challenge.
The vegetables were similarly cooked to perfection, tender without being mushy, sweet without being overpowering. Damon wolfed them down in between sips of wine. He wasn’t the only one entranced by the food. The table seemed to get in the way of conversations, with everyone so focused on eating that there simply wasn’t room or need for words, at first.
“Delicious,” he finally said. “Everything is exquisite, aesta.”
“Agreed,” said Lilian. “This is also coming from someone who has a rather limited appetite, as of late.”
“It’s fine, I guess.” Vel shrugged, though her indifference was undercut by the focus she put into cutting her next bite of pork.
“If you’re not a fan, I’d be more than happy to finish your plate for you.” Damon kicked her shin softly under the table, earning him a slightly exaggerated glare from Vel in response.
“There will be plenty of leftovers, solas,” said Malon. “No need to worry. Truthfully, I often feel an urge to outdo myself when I’m cooking here at the tower. The old hearth is so familiar to me, I could almost do an entire meal without even needing to think about it.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, Lady Malon, just how did you rebuild your tower to begin with?” Lilian leaned forward as she issued the question, her dark eyes gleaming with curiosity. “I can only assume your magic played a role, given the quality of the craftsmanship.”
Malon chuckled and nodded. “A starring role, as it happens. With help. The form of the tower was set within my will, using as much of the original rem stone and mortar as I could salvage, supplemented by new material. I borrowed some of Seffi’s power for the actual construction spell, but in truth, the hardest aspect was delving into my own memories to recreate every specific detail.”
Her good humor faded a bit with that last sentence. Damon reached across the table to touch her hand.
“I can see how that would have been hard,” he said. “Even good memories can have an edge when set into… a new context.”
For Malon, his aesta, to think about the tower and the life they’d shared as a family within it after seemingly watching him die and losing Vel and Ria’s trust. Damon supposed it spoke to the depth of her love that she was able to push beyond that and reclaim a piece of the past, regardless.
“I’m curious if you could build other structures through this same means?” asked Lilian. “Could you build an entire town, for instance?”
“I think it unlikely, unless I spent some time studying a specific town in question,” said Malon. “I am far from an architect. Just an old sorceress with too much nostalgia.”
“You’re far from old, aesta,” said Damon.
Vel shot a glare that he didn’t feel was justified. Malon cleared her throat, smiling, but continuing on to dispel the tension.
“Did the two of you see Kastet while you were in Silke?” she asked.
Vel and Lilian glanced at each other, both beaming a little as though they shared in some bit of humorous knowledge.
“She’s still Kastet,” said Lilian.
“Definitely still Kastet,” agreed Vel. “I went to Redpane Tower before I left and was informed that her secretary would set up a meeting for us within the next few days. For obvious reasons, we didn’t bother to wait.”
“She might have intended it as a slight, or maybe she truly is that busy.” Lilian shrugged. “Either way, I feel as though seeing her in person might have been a greater disappointment than being turned away at the door.”
“As do I,” said Vel. “She’s not the same Princess Kastet I once served.”
“She’s twice the woman with half the heart,” said Lilian, with a catty grin.
Vel laughed and nodded. Damon felt a strange urge to defend Kastet, despite his own past disagreements with her.
“Well, I did see her while I was in Silke,” he said. “She does still care about the two of you, in her own way.”
“If that’s the case, she should have made an effort to see us,” said Vel.
“In her defense, I’m sure it takes a fair amount of effort for her to lift her generous backside off the throne,” said Lilian.
“That’s a little uncalled for,” he said. “She’s chubby, at best.”
“She must have lost weight, then,” said Vel. “She needed to have all her dresses retailored after we left Hearthold in exile.”
“And then again, prior to her brief betrothal to Matthis Blackseed,” said Lilian. “A shame that didn’t work out. I’d heard that he had a reputation for being the largest of the Emperor’s sons.”
Vel snorted, covering her mouth to hold in the wine she was drinking. Even Malon chuckled and smiled. Everyone was laughing… except for Damon.
He felt strange, and it had less to do with any offense taken on Kastet’s behalf and more to do with the sheer amount of change that had taken place. He had nothing to add to the conversation, as though he was listening to an inside joke formed at a gathering to which he hadn’t been invited.
He’d missed so much more than he’d realized, events that had transpired and effected the world, his family, his friends. He would never get any of that time back. He didn’t like delving into that sort of self-pity, but it still weighed upon him, as though he was missing several key pieces to the puzzle of his own life.
The conversation shifted to other things. Vel spoke of her time as a tailor at Silk in Silke . Even if Damon had found an opening in that conversation, he doubted his mood would have suited the table. He pushed his plate back and stood up.
“I… think I’ll head to bed,” he said.
“Are you alright, solas?” asked Malon.
“It’s still so early, Damon,” said Vel. “We haven’t even finished the first bottle of wine yet.”
“I’m fine, I just feel tired,” he said.
He turned before having to field any more objections and headed into his room.