---

             
There was a growing tension building in the city.  No one whispered their concerns but I could see it in the way people moved throughout the streets, bodies rigid, and how they seemed hesitant to travel alone.  Ever since mr Ajax had been called away to fight for his majesty, I could only assume that it was the threat of war that had everyone on edge.  Being with Hiram dulled the severity of how much our world was about to change.  I didn't understand that mr Ajax may not come home; that men worse than Hiram could come to claim our throne.  I never learned of war and battle.  Little girls needn't worry about political affairs.

Right now my only concern was mr August.  It was obvious that he wasn't well and I had sworn to the keeper that I would take care of him.  I packed my allowance, latched pig into its place and gathered a day's worth of rations before making my way into the city despite the warnings that had come from my elders. 

Laced leather boots resounded on the cobble, quiet steps that would bring me into the fray of merchant stalls and shops whose windows glittered with goods meant to entice the eye.  Mine would sway to and fro, needlessly gandering at all they provided.  Each ware passed I would consider only dismissing it with a shrug.  Either the price was far beyond what my budget could afford or I knew that mr August wouldn't like it. 

Finally, I paused at the stall of a merchant who offered ores and stones, gems and crystals that glistened in the morning sun.  I was drawn to it like a fly to waste and stood observing the pieces.  Some were opaque, others pointed like spears.  Some were jagged, some lacked colour while others burst with it.  There were many I believed mr August would like and so I reached for one of the vivid blue gems to further inspect it.

---

Absent mindedly fingers brushed over the concealment of a patch, a touch so often masked by that very same hand traveling through the thick hair covering it. Pushing it out of the way - no matter how briefly - before it would settle back into place. Yet a wandering touch does not halt there as it rubs along the length of bandaged limb. A mind racing over what all needed to be done with it before an injury could truly sour.

Normally he would rely on Naza for this sort of thing, she always seemed to know what to do when it came to tending such ailments. Though with all a mother insisted he learn at the forge it became harder to remember the lessons snuck in over useful plants or the ways to best secure the binding fabrics of a bandage. He knew to keep it clean, to make sure infection didn’t have a chance to set in but even doing such minute tasks stung. Sensation he never enjoyed despite knowing it to be necessary. If he was lucky it wouldn’t need messed with for a good while.

Surely what he had now would hold. It would be enough until he got back home to get proper eyes upon it from one trusted. All he needed to do was complete this task and get back without a mind drifting to worries. The possibilities of it festering, of that mounting into fears of amputation and that… well, shit, now he was thinking about it. Forcefully he would stop fidgeting with bindings as instead that hand rested upon the hilt of weaponry carried so openly.

Focus set upon the bustling markets all he needed to do was find the shop required, collect the supplies, and make the journey back. That was it. But rather than the decorative signs of stalls and buildings alike Fineás found attentions drifting toward the unusual features that littered the square. Some holding obvious marks of their curse while others appeared just as human as he and yet none held the visage described. None appeared to wield the familiar clang of a blacksmith’s hammer nor carried the scent of burning coal and the sharp flash of hot iron.

Though maybe he wasn’t even looking for a forge, maybe it was just a jeweler to gather a collection of gems and stones to accent not only weaponry but the glittering adornments he had steadily been learning to craft. Well it couldn’t hurt to try. If nothing else it would be a passing embarrassment that a mother would never have to know of. And once the glimmer of such decorum revealed itself beneath the sun his steps would shift. Saddling up alongside another who appeared to look over all that was offered to her yet while she made her own decision he would call to the merchant behind the counter. “Ex-excuse me, did my mother send a letter here? Order would be under Salvator.”

Features didn’t match as he looked to them, but still the stall keeper shuffled away to check. Flipping through the catalog before offering a shake of the head, “Sorry nothing here for Salvator. Maybe there was a delay in post? Or you could try the shop down the way?” A vague offer of assistance though as sight drifted through the crowd it brought a mind to cloud. How was he meant to know how far ‘down the way’ was meant? Or find anything in such an unfamiliar city? Lavalles was bad enough with its’ bustling center but not knowing these paths or any shortcuts like the back of his hand put him at a distinct disadvantage.

Without thinking an audible sigh slipped free, one Fineás swiftly hoped to cover as lyrics were quick to chase it, “Thanks anyways ma’am.” He wouldn’t waste her time any further though he did not yet depart for something else captured his attention now as it lingered on one who browsed before his arrival, before he had stolen away the merchant’s focus. And seeing just what she looked over now he could not help but to butt in his tongue not yet curbed when it came to matters of curiosity. The pale red of his gaze searching her features briefly before he’d pry, “What are you going to use that for?” Did she make things with these sorts of stones and gems too? Or was she one of those collectors that simply enjoyed putting them on display?

---

          
A trained eye might have been able to see whatever impurities lay beneath the polished surface of the vibrant blue stone whose depths shone with hints of green and tawny browns.  Its beauty was enough to captivate away from any disfigurations and I thought it quite a lovely piece. 

Multiple times I turned it in my hand, observing the way it glistened in the light, how the colours changed at certain angles or how it felt against the dainty curve of my exploring digits.  So enveloped, I hadn’t noticed the burgundy-haired boy or the exchange shared with the keeper of the shop.  Not until he spoke directly to me.

For a second I stared, perplexed, confused that someone outside was directly speaking to me.  Often times I was small enough to go unnoticed, something I rather preferred in these settings.  Less attention meant less danger.  As it was, the boy seemed harmless enough but experience had taught me to know better than that.

Everyone has monsters that they hide from the world.

I eventually shrugged.  “A present.” 

Inwardly I cringed at the sound of my voice.  No matter how much I used it these days, years of torture caused the sound to grate on my ears like rusty nails drug against equally rusted armour.  I  held the gem out towards the boy so that he could better see it too. 

“Do... you know about this stuff?”  I tilted my head slightly.  “Is it good?”

Perhaps it was wrong to assume that since he was here for an order that there’d be some manner of knowledge towards gemstones and ore.  While mr August and mr Ajax had taught me many things that Hiram refused to, trades and the skills among them weren’t at the peak of their priorities. 

---

It should have been obvious this wasn’t the shop he needed. The woman behind the counter held no flickering of animalistic ear, no graceful sweep of a kitsune’s tail to give way to the creature housed beneath her flesh. And yet he had been hopeful that a journey could be cut short. That all he’d been sent to collect could be gathered here and now, allow him a chance to return to the shadowed lands of Lavalles. A place far more familiar than the cobbled streets of hounds. Yet he’d be lying to say he did not prefer the tempting aromas that wafted here, far different than those perfuming the streets known. Though it is not toward the beckons of food that Fineás’ focus wandered first.

Rather there came fixation upon the glimmer of a stone turning over in another’s hands. One which caught the light in ways that could have been rather lovely if it were not for the glint of imperfections. More than enough to draw the eye but never truly dazzle with how it currently lay cut. But as question reached her ears she seemed… taken aback. Staring blankly without response long enough to earn a sideways glance as Fineás searched for a potential escape path if this was all she did. Pretend his voice had never risen, that one had never asked a thing of her.

Thankfully it did not come to such things, a shrug offered as if uncertain of her own intention even while that tone spoke with finality. A present. Okay… but a present for who or what? Yet before he could ask anything more of her the gem stone was pressed in his direction as askance of her own laced the air between them. Motion caught him off guard, bid the boy to take half a step back as phrases stammered free, “Uh… yeah? I-I know about them.” At least whatever his mother had thought fit to teach him ever since he’d started helping at the forge.

Alexandria had been certain to show him the shaping of different metals, how to inlay glimmering stones to both weaponry and jewelry alike, anything to add to extra costs from those who sought commission for a piece to ensnare. To capture the gaze of any who caught a glimpse of finery and in the process, show case the business and what they were capable of creating. However, this girl didn’t appear to be after such fanciful things based on all she wore. His gaze hung upon her for but a moment longer before drifting to the vibrant stone in quiet examination.

An urge to snatch the stone away for a better look resisted with a short huff, settling for what could be seen without touching it or her in the process. But such politeness was fleeting the moment lyrics rose, Hand rose, finger tapping briefly to one of the divots upon it’s polished surface, “But if you want it set into jewelry of some sort all that can be filed or cut away when reshaping the stone.” All while hoping that further imperfections did not lie beneath it.

Whoever had initially shaped the stone had done a decent enough job cleaning it up but it was in no shape for anything more than private, personal collection. Not something to be shown off proudly as a gift. At least not within his eyes, “Who are you getting this for?” An answer the boy truly didn’t need in order to consider options - should she desire them - and yet he was curious, or rather, he was nosey over the potential recipient.

---

There was an emotion in him that I didn't understand, could not name, in the way he stepped back from my person and stammered out an answer.  Green eyes remained on his face, devoid of all else but flowering curiosity glimmering behind their peering depths.  My interactions with others had always been far and few between.  When it came to reading people, that was a skill I sorely lacked - when it came to understanding them and their thoughts, their motives, I found myself drowned in a world of complex perplexion.  This boy wasn't like the adults surrounding me overwhelmed by their maturity, adults that I had come to gather some means of understanding towards.  He seemed to be roughly my age, tall and perhaps... uncertain was the word I'd been looking for.

Beneath the quiet of his stare, I felt an odd stirring accompanied by an outlandish unknowing - a vibrant thumping - that nearly made me recoil with the stone and vanish back to the estate where my caretakers waited.  Before I could his finger reached out to the shimmering gem and I listened as he spoke.

I withdrew the stone to glance over where he'd pointed.  The line was small, minuscule at best, hard for the untrained eye to spot from deep within the dark blue, brown and ivory depths.  "Oh."  That was all I could manage beneath the weight of this disappointment.  My brows furrowed when I turned it over in my hand to show the boy the other side and I'd step forward to ensure that he could see it clearly.  "What about this part?" 

"Who are you getting this for?"

For the first time in a long, drawn while there came a smile to the soft curve of my thin mouth.  Faint though it was, a fondness grew, a warm sensation that trailed through my veins and roused inside of me a happiness that had only grown in this time spent beneath the care of Mr. August.  My attention drifted from the gem to the boy whose kindness was rare in these trying times. 

"I want to get it for my..."  For a time I paused, thinking, contemplating the proper word to call him.  Would this boy know how important Mr. August was if I said it just like that?  Would he understand how thankful I was for everything the man had done since sweeping me off the street and welcoming me into his home?  A moment more and I finally found my voice with an almost childish simper.  "My papa." 

"I'm Juliet."  Introductions were important.  That's what Mr. Ajax said.  "You can call me Julie though.  If you want to."  There was an abashment in the way I looked at him then, a shy shuffle of booted feet against the cobbled stone.  "Could you... if you don't mind to... help me find a nice gem?" 

---

That sole eye remained watchful in the ways she pulled the stone back, looking over the near invisible blemish pointed out. And the expression which twisted her features could only be described as downtrodden, let down that a selection had not been absolutely perfect. He almost felt sorry for bringing such a thing to flourish but it only brought a short huff from his lungs as the gem was thrust back into focus. Attentions drawn to it without the flinch from before though instead of immediately answering the query asked of him, he issued one of his own.

Hopeful it would grant a chance to examine this side of it without too much distraction. Yet as she paused focus would drift to meet her gaze, taking notice of the faint smile across her lips, “Your old man?” He didn’t really know what someone might get for a dad, hell he hardly even knew what to get for a mother for he sure hadn’t bought her much of anything. Any trip taken always to pick the packages others had put together at her request under the insistence it was better this way. She knew she’d like it, it was her money after all. It was best if she tended the forge and he made delivery runs.

But it had always come with vacant threat, a warning not to be snatched up by any creatures of the night… whatever that was supposed to mean. Though did old people even like getting shiny rocks? He supposed it couldn’t possibly be a far cry from the truth. A great number flocked to adorned trinkets or the stylish glimmer of a decorated blade. “Not a bad gift I suppose,” was this papa of hers some sort of gem collector if all she wanted was a nice rock? Question he probably should have asked and yet distraction came in offerance of a name. Juliet. Julie the likely calling issued by her minder… better than what so often reached his ears.

Matters he does not draw attention to as instead a hand rises to flick the overgrowth of bangs in practiced gesture, briefly pushing it from the fabrics concealing marked eye. All of it unnecessary flourish picked up from his brother, “I’m Fineás but most call me Fin.” Or rather Finfin, Finnik, not as disappointing as the rest… but those terms of address were hardly important enough for her to hear. They weren’t exactly callings he craved to behold from more than one.

So drawn into his own thoughts he nearly missed the way she shifted, the timid shuffle of boots against the stone. A gentle click and phrase which caught him off guard, “Eh?” Now this one wanted his help too? Looking over her in silent appraisal he was silent for a moment. He’d already been delayed on this journey. Progress near halted in the surrounding woods, conversation with a teacher hardly enlightening… fine, what was one more task to slow him down. Besides maybe she could point him to the supposed milf shop Alexandria thought to draw upon his map.

“Fine. I can help but you’ll owe me got it?” Gloved finger pointing at her as if in accusation before turning in offer of his own, “I help you, you help me. Do we have a deal?” No explanation given on what exactly her favor to him would be. If she were smart she’d ask of it though he intended to say nothing unless pressed. For no matter how digits lingered he would not seize hold of her own lest there came agreement from her lips.

---

"Your old man?"  Was he?  I thought of how young Mr August looked compared to many of the gentlemen around us.  The ombre hues of his pink hair did have some white like the salt and peppered tops of the passing coachmen.  A trait they say belongs to the elderly.  But his face did not sag with their wrinkles nor did he look so... exhausted with age.  There was a spryness in the way he moved with his weapons and how he walked at my side.  The angular jut of his chin was always free from the hagrid fuzz of a beard and even his chest seemed naked in comparison to what I've seen from others in passing.  While I would admit that he looked rather strange with his extra ears and pointed horns, he looked barely older than the boy standing before me. 

My cheeks puffed with quiet indignation.  Had he meant to insult Mr August?  "He's not old."  But perhaps his intention had gone beyond me.  I was, after all, unfamiliar with some phrases and tended to take things for their literal value.  Such was the curse of my tortured upbringing.

Gentle eyes laid upon the red-haired boy when he complimented my choice of present and in turn, gave me a name and the shorthand version of it.  "Can I call you Fin, too?"  I'd ask with a slight tilt of my head. 

The girl on Maple Lane would have eagerly jumped at the opportunity to be of help to someone else no matter what it was.  It filled that girl's heart with joy to slip away from the drowning sea of poverty and feel as if she were a contribution to society.  That is how she came to be Anna Lee.  From that experience, I couldn't help but eye him with a guarded gaze bordering the hardened ice of suspicion.  What could he gain from me?  I had no skills that would be of assistance to most, I had no wit nor extra coin to spare.  Hesitantly I looked up into the only blue eye shown while putting the crystal back into its resting box much to the relief of the shop's keeper.

"That depends on what you want."  Lithe, spindly arms crossed just beneath the faint buds of my breasts.  "Papa said I have to be careful of doing stuff with boys."

---

It was hard not to miss the way she seemed to bristle, puff up as claims of age seemed to strike a nerve despite the half-hearted insult not resting upon her own crown. A light simper pulled against his lips in silent amusement though it did not remain for long, “Says you! I bet he’s ancient.” Just like every other grown up could be labeled as within the boy’s eyes. Though even if she was telling the truth and this papa of hers actually wasn’t terribly old… he still found it rather funny at how vehement she was over it. Of him knowing the man wasn’t some geezer.

Then there came a matter of names. An askance which brought shoulders to shrug, “I guess?” Fineás saw no reason why she couldn’t just call him Fin as well. Other’s already placed such a calling upon him though had not asked for approval first. So he supposed that was something to place in favor of this girl. Even if he never saw her again after this meeting it couldn’t hurt to grant such an allowance. It was just a name after all and maybe, just maybe it would help to sway the mind in favor of assitance. Of agreeing to a proposed bargain despite the mystery behind it… or not.

Arms crossing as there came neither acceptance nor denial, only an inquiry over what. Phrases bringing expression to twist in moment of confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ideas pitched within his thoughts over possibilities, vague pieces lying in place from all he’d overheard about the weirdo acts she may be implying. Guess he should make himself clear on this after all. Though two could play the game of posturing, of attempting to act tough while hashing out this deal.

Hand found his hip while the other rested upon the hilt of a sword at his side, blocked from mirroring the other in its perch, “Directions. That’s all I want from you.” For now anyways. If it took a century to find her this gemstone then it was only fair he ask for more. “Like I said, if you want my expert help in this you hafta help me in return.” A specialist he was not though that tiny detail would not stop a lie from falling so easily off his tongue.

---

"Don't look at me like that, Anna Lee."  Anger was a man's dominion.  Little girls had no right to let their brows furrow, their smiles fall.  They had no right to glower with smouldering eyes of violent hatred towards those who loved them so.  I got better at hiding the sickening rage seeping into the hollows of my body each time he touched me, spoke to me, or even looked my general way.  There were many emotions I learned to suppress but rage... that one had always been the hardest.  Even now I felt its claws glissading across my skin, red-hot talons seeking purchase upon the tethers of my practised control.  In the short amount of years that I've lived, I learned to tolerate many things.  An insult to the man offering me salvation - offering life - was not among them.

"He is not."  This voice was strange to me.  It wasn't like the rusted sound of my laughter or the uncertain grating of my girlish drawl.  It was almost darker, a quiet animosity, a warning.

But as the subject of our conversation drifted away from the affairs of my caretaker's age, the stiffness that had built within my shoulders loosened.  I took to watching the boy and his crossed arms, the confusion that lined the planes of his face.  When Mr August had first warned me of boys and their schemes, I remember the same bewilderment scratching across my thoughts, echoing there with innocent bemusement.  Of course, neither he nor Mr Ajax would elaborate despite my imploring.  I was too young for such things.  I'd find out when I was older.  I offered Fin the same shrug I'd given to both guardians.

"I don't know.  He didn't say because I'm not old enough to know.  So that means you're not old enough, either, huh?"  My head tilted slightly, curiously, wondering if I'd been right in assuming that he was close to my age.

Then I watched with fascination when his hand laid upon the hilt of the sword tethered at his hip.  My weapon was carefully concealed beneath the pleated fabrics of my gown.  A necessity, insurance for my safety so that men like Hiram couldn't take me again.  Did he also have Hiram?  Someone he needed protection against?  Though I couldn't help but wonder, the question would not find freedom.  Instead, I resigned to listen again to the exchange proposed for his assistance.  Directions seemed innocent enough.

"Deal."  I reached out my hand as if waiting to shake on our agreement.  "Where are you looking to go?" 

---

Yeah, yeah, whatever. Maybe this dad of hers wasn’t as old as he assumed but that would hardly stop the boy from poking fun at what was apparently a rather sensitive subject… at least until that darker tone seized her vocals. Hardly the venom which laced his mother’s tongue though in a way it threatened to teeter upon that delicate precipice, a risk of delving into the range of disappointment. Of a more subtle warning aimed to pluck at nerves before one may offer a much harsher correction should a foreseen wrong not be mended in time.

It brought exposed eye to twitch, a nervous swallow to accompany the flush of shame which colored his ears and nearly dared to touch his cheeks. Only to gradually fade the moment those lyrics lost their edge, returning to the rasped phrase which had addressed him prior. Almost as if the threat of haunting familiarity had never risen within his cerebrum, stirring memories one could not easily forget. In time it would all be gone back to: the heat of the forge, the steady clang resounding against metals, and with it the bitterness of another’s tongue. But not now for he was far from home.

Slowly a breath he didn’t realize had been held steadily escaped as attentions dared not stray from the one before him now. More watchful even as bewilderment sought to further twist his visage. Little satisfaction found in that short shrug offered. Unhelpful. This only left him to wonder even more over what her father had meant with such a statement. Maybe if he could find his brother he’d be willing to elaborate on what it meant to be ‘doing stuff with boys.’ Surely he would be able to shed some light on this even if one unknown proclaimed Julie - and by extension himself - weren’t old enough to know. “I guess not? But I know someone who might tell me, then I can tell you.”

For while Fineás may hold his own assumptions they likely weren’t correct. The full picture as to why neither were privy to such information alluded him. One way or another he would get answers but such was a task for another time. Nobody here would be asked of such meanings as instead focus held upon the deals made.

Gloved hand clasping against her own, giving a firm shake just as he’d been taught, “Deal.” Directions in exchange for assisting with the selection of a gifted stone. Easy enough. “The milf shop,” another word not fully understood yet continuously repeated, “At least that’s what my map says. Run by some foxy family, Chisaki.” And just as he’d shown that teacher his mother’s scrawled map, so too would she behold it as folded parchment was freed from the confines of clothing. Holding it out for Julie to see. 

Sparse landmarks decorating the page, a ‘map’ mainly composed of scratched lettering - warnings of dangers, ‘dog land’, and the busty figure of a kitsune with arrows pointing to her. Chisaki MILF, PACKAGE HERE. “You know it?” There was uncertainty on if she would know what it all meant - for not even he held full understanding, the cause of many delays - but it was worth a shot. How many milf shops could there be around here?