Now it was Ren’s turn to shrug. Anothermaybeto follow the first.
“Honestly, there’s not much to say,” Pansy said once she’d managed to wind her jaw back up. “Councilor Millwood found out that I’ve been living with a goblin and promptly hit the roof. Called me selfish – an infection even, like I’m going to poison the village with my wild ideas of using goblin ingredients.” She snorted, kicking at a stray pebble with the toe of her boot.
“But that wasn’t even the worst part,” she continued, her tone turning mournful. “My parentsagreedwith her. Sure, they protested when she told me to stay away from Haverow. But not because they thought what I was doing was fine or anything. No, they just want me to come back home – like they always have – completely ignoring the fact that the village hasn’t been home for me for a long time. To be honest, maybe it never was.” She sighed.
“You feel like you don’t fit in,” Ren said soberly.
Pansy nodded. “Yeah. I’m too”– she waved a hand – “different.Weird. Too much like my grandmother, I guess. Because I’m curious and ask questions and want toseethings beyond the familiar and the usual.”
“I take it your grandmother wasn’t very popular either?”
“Well, she spent most of her life outside of Haverow. She was an adventurer, you see,” Pansy said, her expression creasing apologetically. Evidently, she knew as well as Ren did what that implied, the bloody history shared between their two peoples,of wars fought in other people’s names rather than their own.
“Given how much your village seems to hate goblins, I would’ve thought that this would make her rather popular,” Ren said, blunt as always. No point tiptoeing around something they were both acutely aware of, especially if the goal was to have an honest conversation.
“I never said my village made a lot of sense,” Pansy replied with another shrug, easier than the last. “She did the exact same things as the local wizard. And yet he gets all the praise while she just gets criticized.”
“Why?”
“Because she was a halfling,” she said simply, as if that was all the explanation needed.
“So, you’re expected to stay in the village?” Ren asked, trying their best to understand. “And do what?”
“Have a family, live quietly, don’t cause trouble. Be boring, I guess. Obviously, I wasn’t very good at it,” she added with the tiniest curl of amusement.
“Is that why you came out here? To escape boredom?”
Pansy thought about it for a moment. “I think it was more that I wanted to find a place where I could be myself. It was exhausting being judged every time I expressed any interest in things that weren’t appropriately “halfling”, or behaved in ways that others found “unbecoming”. What about you? I know you said you became the Caretaker of the cottage, but was that something you chose or…?”
“I volunteered,” Ren replied, stiffening imperceptibly against the tension winding down their spine. “I was the best option the clan had. I’ve always been good at foraging up here away from our caves. Plus, I know the most about botany in general. It made sense for me to take over the garden.”
“So, you weren’t… I don’t know…”
“Forced out? No.” Ren snorted. “Exile is something reserved for criminals.”
Pansy went quiet, one knuckle pressing hard against her lips. “What about living with a halfling? Is that something your clan would consider criminal?”
Ren laughed, which, in retrospect, was likely a touch cruel, given the circumstances. However, what else could they do in the face of such sheer ludicrousness? “Ill-advised and stupid, yes; but not criminal. Honestly, they’d probably wonder if I’d bumped my head on something, or fallen under some sort of spell.”
“But if you told them that you were doing so willingly, while in possession of all your faculties?”
“They’d question me, no doubt. But, at the end of the day, my clan trusts me.” Granted, they probably wouldn’t be too pleased if Ren brought Pansy onto clan territory. But Ren figured it was better not to mention that.
“They really wouldn’t kick you out?” Pansy asked, her brow creasing with disbelief.
Ren blew out a breath and said, with the utmost seriousness, “Pansy, if being weird was all it took, then my cousin Thorn would’ve been thrown out of the clan years ago. He collectstoads. I say ‘collects’, but sometimes he steals them.”
“Toads? What kind of toads?” She cocked her head to the side, the grooves in her forehead softening beneath the press of her – ill-advised – curiosity.
Knowing her, she’ll probably want to add Thorn’s “Juice”, or whatever he’s currently calling it, to her next dish. Better change the subject…“What’s that?” they asked, gesturing to the small packet peeking out from Pansy’s pocket.
“Oh, I…” Pansy ducked her head, her expression turningsheepish. “You have to promise not to laugh.”
“I never laugh,” Ren declared, with all the deadpan stoicism of a wizened old goblin.
This pulled another chuckle out of Pansy; this one, thankfully, less wet than the last. “Okay, well, I was thinking of planting something and entering the annual Harvest Festival’s Crop Competition. And, um, winning. As a way of proving I’m not a terrible halfling.” She blushed and quickly added, “I know it’s a stupid idea, but I—”
“It’s not stupid.”
