He’d been happily reading the ancient book he’d found when Nairn had found him. At first Ruth ignored his approach for finishing the page, still salty over losing a large number of his own personal cache of found books.
You better have something with you to sweeten my mo- cut off with a heavy bottle being sat next to him. Ruth’s eye travelled from the book to the huge and very expensive bottle of rum now inches away, causing his brows to rise steadily, while his mind calculated the meaning behind it.
Nairn wasn’t being generous, nor was he apologising which meant something was wrong or was about to happen that had far reaching consequences. Ruth set the book down, closing it and began studying his friend. ...How bad is it… and was I involved? If I’m involved, I was unsupervised, you can’t lay the entire blame with me. I’m already paying for making your woman the boss of everything as it is
Nairn scoffed, and sank into a seat, fingers tapping the table. Rums payment for a dose. Set it up. He avoided answering the question; well-aware that they were going to partake in the booze as well as anything else.
After a moment, with a long sigh, he murmured, Remember my whore, the one at the Rose? He pinched the bridge of his nose, She had a kid, back in '33, '32? Dunno, the math. Knew it existed, wasn't my problem. Because it hadn't been; he'd sent her a bit of extra money every month, she'd never let him see or know anything about the kid. It's like it didn't exist.
Ruth’s eye narrowed at the mention of a bump, knowing shit must be bad if Nairn was seeking that sweet distraction. No need, he’d snort back, have some that didn’t get burned in a house fire. He wouldn’t ask, and that was maybe part of the man’s reason for coming to Ruth in the first place. He cast a hand out, the bubble of a barrier concealing the two from view or from being overheard.
He was reaching for his satchel when Nairn dropped the bomb. The flap dropped instantly as he mentioned the ‘k’ word. Ruth turned his head to stare at the assassin, dumbfounded with surprise until he let out a long sigh and a whistle. I fuckin’ knew it. I’d heard rumours, well, gossip really, nothing concrete… but, Ruth’s head shook. ...It’s your problem now though. You can’t ignore it. Him? Her? Whatever. They’re a person now.
Nairn snorted, Yeah, I didn't think to save your shit. My bad. He stared up at the ceiling, missing the dumbfounded expression on his friends' face.
Mmm. She wanted a kid, needed a donor. Promised it'd never be my problem. 'cept she sent the brat here. He straightened in his seat, eyeing the elf next to him.
Haulean. Apparently, Leilani was sick while I was gone. Couldn't afford treatment without my monthly child support, as I understand. He exhaled, reaching to open the bottle of rum.
Kid was screaming earlier. Letter from the brothel, I guess, 'aunties'. She's dead. And he was stuck with the child she'd always wanted. Got him settled. Fucked that up quite a bit.
And he couldn't go home. At least if he was drunk or worse, he'd have an excuse for not showing up at home. Though how, in the world, he'd excuse getting wasted to Megara...
Yes, well I’m used to no-one giving a shit about my crap, so, Ruth scoffed, hands waving, fobbing off the stupid, nonsensical apology.
Ruth’s expression shifted between surprise, annoyance and varying degrees of confusion while he slipped out the slender tin containing his not-so-healthy habit. Pushing it across the desk though his fingers paused from fully relinquishing it. A bump. Not the whole fucking lot, okay. Gonna need some myself cos this… this is fucked.
He pushed a hand through his hair, exhaling out deeply. So… he knows who you are, even he winced, I bet that went swimmingly, sarcasm clear in his voice, Ruth knew it couldn’t have gone well. Gods, am I going to have to… fuck. I’m going to have to talk to the kid. Tell him how is old man is a fucking stupid ass tongue tied son of a bit… How. The. Hell you gonna spin this to.. Oh. Oh you’re dead.
A rare look of genuine sympathy swept across the elf’s face. I… genuinely don’t know how that woman is going to react. And that’s the most terrifying part.
Frowning at being rushed, Ruth snarked back. You hurry up, I’m the alcoholic here… gimme that rum.
Nairn scowled, glaring at the container, before he separated a bit out onto the top of the desk. Slipping a card from his pocket, he'd straighten the line, before leaning down to snort it.
Sitting up, he wiped his nose, and grumbled, Call me all the fuckin' names you want. I never wanted him. And it was wrong of her to send him to me.
And when the topic of Megara came up, he scowled, Not tellin' her. Gonna get rid of the kid, send him off somewhere. A stupid answer; considering he wanted to send the boy to Arlathan. But he wasn't certain he wanted to face the hurt this was going to cause.
But yeah. He knows who I am. Fuckin' letters with my name on 'em, kid's got my last name. He slid the tin back towards Ruth, and cleared his sinuses with an inhale.
Maybe I can get him a squire position with someone. Far away from me. And her. And Arlathan. Fuck, if I know. Kid's a threat. Nobody knew his name; not the name he was born with. He'd shed that identity and having someone who knew it...
Threatened everything he'd built. And everything he had. But if he really thought the boy was a threat; he'd not be alive. Or maybe he just couldn't bring himself to hurt Haulean.
Ruth continued to stare at him, brow growing heavier and heavier with every sentence that his friend uttered. There was truth and valid anger with how the terms of the arrangement had become blurred, the choice might not have been hers to make… which made it infinitely more complicated.
Are you insane? You're insane. You think she’s not going to find out somehow? He wouldn’t tell her, obviously, he valued breathing and she was only just starting to come around to his meddling in the election. You want to send him off, to where? His mother sent him to you because she obviously thought you’d keep him safe and you just want to cart him off to some alien place with strangers?
Ruth laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he pulled back the rum and down a heavy glug of it. Images of a miniature Nairn ran through his mind and he choked a little, setting the bottle down to clear his throat with a series of coughs. A threat? Are you hearing yourself? he spluttered, You fucking know the safest place is beside her… here in Arlathan. He’s a kid, Nairn. He has a name, dreams… hope.
Ruth sighed, hands reaching for the tin and taking a larger piece to sprinkle out and snort clean. He’d tuck it away, pulling out two pre-rolled sticks of tobacco and lighting both, before offering Nairn one. Ruth took a long draw and then released an even longer sigh and stream of smoke. If she finds out from someone else, it’s gonna kill her more. Worse if she meets him randomly and he beats you to it.
Nairn claimed the smoke, muttering, I don't use that name for reasons. They'd want money, they'd want a 'slice of the pie'. That family never even bothered lookin' for me.
He brought the cig to his mouth, inhaling deeply. Why would she tell him my name? What if he tells the wrong person? They go after them, to get at me. He coughed, with a puff of smoke. Fuckin' dangerous for the kid too.
Another drag on the cig, as he stared at the open bottle of alcohol between them. I cleared his debts. And he begged me not to send him off. Said I wanted him before, why's it any different.
He had to, eventually, acknowledge there was truth to Ruth's words. The child was safest with him, safest with the woman he loved. Safest away from the Coterie. Yeah. I know.
Nairn let silence settle across them, focusing on the tobacco. And after a few minutes, Talk to him, for me? He freaked when I suggested sending him to Arlathan. That suggestion had been made in a panic; he'd not been thinking that he'd need to deal with telling his future-wife.
Pfft. I didn’t want to meet my Clan again, but here we are! He’d gesture. He hadn’t seen Kellam since the closing of the Battle, but he’d heard through the grapevine that Megara had met with him. A matter for another day though. Um, well how bout you tell the kid that. But then… He is part you though, so he might need reminding. Life was unpredictable, if they surfaced, they would deal with it.
Ruth leaned back into his chair, swapping a draw of his cigarette for a sip of the bottle when it was his turn. So… you made his work redundant, paid him like a whore and sent him off like a scab and what, expected him to thank you? His chuckle was hollow, Wow, well played if your aim was to emasculate him.
Oh no. No, no, no. A pained expression replaced annoyed surprise. Why me? Because I know how crap you are at this? For fucks sake, Nairn. he’d groan, though the potential fallout of this spiraling unchecked made him consider it.
Fine. At least he’ll know who I am, and I know who he is… save an embarrassing encounter happening later, his arms instantly raised in defence, halting any flying punches about to head his way. I jest. I’m not about to bed children his whole body shuddering in disgust at the idea. I’d apologise, but this is worse than the time you changed course on her the first time. I could laugh at you then, this time just feels… shit.
Nairn snorted, Fuck you. Brat. I know when I'm wanted. He was missing the point. Which was, in fact, the point. As the bottle left his hand for Ruth's, Nairn stared up at the ceiling. His friend succinctly described what he'd done to his son.
His mother always thanked me. Think he's more me, than her. He murmured, but that was a lie. The boy reminded him of his old friend; and that hurt almost as much as knowing Haulean was his son. Especially knowing she'd died.
The jest earned a smack, which Ruth deflected with a raised arm, and Nairn snorted. Another swig from the bottle, as he flicked the ashes from his cigarette into the floor. Wasn't relevant back then. 'specially since I wasn't supposed to know he existed. 'Oh, by the way, I got a whore pregnant and she begged me to let her keep it, so I did. But I'm no contact. Don't worry, still don't want kids.' That'd really make the relationship, huh?
A derisive snort at his own bad jab, as he passed the bottle back. That kid's gonna ruin my life. And I just put that back together again.
His tongue loosened by the rum, Ruth grinned over, Again? What would Megara say? I know I am, and yes, I knooow, wants you so much she waited over a decade for you to come back. He rolled his eye, having never really had somewhere to call home, always only a temporary visitor and never a resident. lucky for some." He’d settled some since beginning to live with Megara, but he was forever preparing for his next jaunt around Thedas.
He’d snicker as Nairn went for him, taking back the bottle again and switching out his smoke. Aye, but things change. You re-evaluate and adjust. You’re still freaking out he exists, give it a day to sink in. He took a swig, sighing before passing it back. She’s upfront about everything. If you ain’t… and she asks you, you better explain shit as her Vhenan. That word means a whole lot more than just her being yours, you being hers. If she asks you, and you lie… it won't be the kid who's ruined it.
It was a hard fact, but one Ruth knew the consequences of. She’s gonna lose her shit either way. You best just come up with a plan on how to make it up to her. Flowers ain’t gonna cut it this time. Then his eyes widened. Shit, she’ll be pissed about how you fobbed him off too… best miss that part out. Along with me. I know fuck all.
Nairn scowled. Not drunk enough, if you're talking sense. Gimme. He'd swipe the bottle, as he put his cig out, crushing it under his boot. I'm not gonna re-evaluate and suddenly want a child. He grumbled. It didn't make a difference that, he'd technically raised this boy anyway.
I'mma... tell her. Eventually. He mumbled, closing his eyes as he drank and passed the bottle back. How the hell do I make this up to her? 'Hi, honey, wanna be a stepmother?' He snorted, shaking his head. Some small part of him, was thrilled that he knew the boy had grown up safe, cared for, and could handle his own in life... because he'd raised him. But the other part of him, that had never wanted a child attached to his name, couldn't help but hate what he knew, now. Suddenly, Haulean wasn't just one of the urchins he cared for; he was his and he wanted a better life than he had planned out for the child.
Just tellin’ you what we both know… and have learned about the one chick who genuinely gives a damn. It hadn’t been the intention, but Megara had become the first steadying force in both their lives. Ruth scoffed though, Ain’t about wanting anymore, you got one. Now you gotta figure out how you feel, and what you want to do about it.
Why he’d come to him, Ruth had no idea, maybe Nairn thought he’d perhaps been through this before to figure out down the line that it was all a stitch up? That nightmare made his stomach flip, but he still took back the bottle for a sip, hoping the sweet rum’s taste helped him overcome it.
Good, but work on the timeline. I live with you two, you think I’mma be able to hold my mouth shut for forever? Unlikely. No, he’d get too drunk, or they’d argue about his drinking or antics and he’d say it out of anger and without thinking and then he’d be out in the streets, with two people mad at him and each other.
Firstly, for the sake of us all. Do not. Call her that. His face deathly serious. Second, you tell her and you give her some space, which you will hate doing, but if you want that woman to suck your dick again, you'll do it. Then… well... It's gotta be big. You didn’t know he’d turn up, but you didn’t tell her about him either, not ever. His lips pursed in thought, mulling over the problem. If you want him to live here, he’s gonna meet her eventually though, the question is, do you want her to meet him before, or after you tell her.
Nairn scowled, Fuck off with the logic. I came here to get so fucked up, that for a second, I forget. Though, he wasn't denying that sometimes Ruth had just the right information for his problems...
Tonight just, wasn't his night. And he snorted, The fuck do I give a woman that I've hurt at every turn? He mumbled, gaze fixed on the ceiling. Could just lie to her. Tell her I ain't know he existed, 'til he showed up with them letters. A wishy-washy solution that'd do more harm than good.
He grunted, muttering, She's met the kid. She likes the kid. Kid likes her. And he's a hugger, crier. You're right, he'll tell her first if I don't. Haulean was a bright child, but Nairn had reared the boy; encouraged him to follow his emotions...
Which sometimes led to secrets being spilled; especially to adults he trusted.
Ruth let out a long, bitter laugh. Forget? Pfft. Word of advice from one who’s tried half their life trying to forget some shit. It don’t always work. The elf took a long sip before shifting to lay across the bench, placing the bottle back on the table between them. His cigarette was nearly gone, but he’d take a last draw before stubbing it out between his fingers and tossing it.
And you think I’d know? Cos I’m a pillar of knowledge on relationships? He’d offer Nairn a knowing look before shrugging. That woman’s both an enigma and then plain and simple at the same time. Eye narrowing on the ceiling now when Nairn continued to contemplate lying.
You and I both know lying to her is the worst idea. You do that, you might as well dig your grave now. It was a shit situation that Ruth didn’t envy his friends were facing, life was a series of various shitshows to endure, the blow it would deal to Meg, yet… You know she’d treat him right. Fairly. Even after she finds out. Meg won’t hold your lie against Haulean, it’s not in her to be cruel. It was the one positive he could definitively confirm, the sins of the father wouldn’t follow his son in her eyes.
About the only thing you can do is tell her the truth. She’ll retreat, put her walls up… expect Sylaise to surface, but if there is anyone you need to fear… it’s her, not Meg. A strangled laugh followed, the pitch clearly hinting the Hearth Keeper’s wrath frightened even him.
...Gimme back that bottle. I need to think about your eulogy.
