With Ren tugging insistently on her arm, she had no choice but to follow. Pansy’s brow furrowed as they led her to what otherwise looked to be a perfectly normal bush. It was only once they’d pushed aside one of its boughs, revealing a cluster of tiny blue flowers, each sporting five finely tipped petals, that she understood.
“They’re like little stars,” she murmured, squatting down beside Ren so that she could take a closer look. She wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the moonlight, seeping through the dense canopy overhead in narrow beams of silver, but the flowers seemed to glow amid the surrounding darkness.
“Goblins call this particular flower Wayfinder,” Ren explained, their eyes equally bright. “It blooms only on nights that the Goblin Market is open.”
Pansy’s eyes widened. “Does that mean…?”
They grinned. “Want to go?”
Absolutely, Pansy wanted to say. However, when she openedher mouth to reply, the words simply wouldn’t come.
Because what was the point? Today had shown that Haverow would never accept Ren. In fact, they’d probably never accept Pansy either. Could she really believe that Ren’s clan would prove any different? Sure, they wouldn’t kick out a goblin for the high crime of being “weird”, but that meant nothing when the person in question wasn’t even a goblin to begin with.
Pansy remembered the things Ren had said to her in the beginning, all the times they’d mistaken her desire to help – or just to belong, really – for halfling selfishness and gluttony. She didn’t hold it against them. How could she, when she was far from innocent herself? Still, the thought of hearing those same words again, from the people Ren considered family, no less – well, it certainly put a damper on the excitement that had swelled in her breast.
And, again, what was the point? Why weather all this pain, this hurt, for a relationship that was already doomed? Because Ren had made their stance on Agvaldir clear. Seeking his aid was a betrayal, one that no number of explanations or apologies could overcome. It was unfair, decidedly so.
Things were different then, she wanted to scream, the words bubbling like acid in her chest.If I’d known you then as I know you now, I never would have gone to Agvaldir for help!
But her mouth stayed shut, lips pinned together as tightly as the gates of a castle under siege. Better to stay silent, she decided. Stay silent and hope that Agvaldir stayed away, that the shape in the forest was truly just her imagination and not a prelude to the disaster she feared was taking shape on the horizon. If that happened, then… then maybe her future with Ren wouldn’t be nearly so bleak.
“Pansy?” Ren asked, their voice yanking her back to realitywith all the suddenness of a fall from a great height.
“Oh! Yes. Sorry,” she said, the color dusting her cheeks darkening a fraction more. “I-I’d love to go. I was just thinking, that’s all.”
“Thinking,” Ren repeated, their voice oddly toneless.
“About things,” Pansy continued, elaborating with an equally vague gesture.
Cocking their head to the side, Ren watched her for a moment in silence. Then, mumbling a soft “I’ll be right back,” they disappeared into the darkness of the forest. A minute or so later, they returned, carrying some sort of twig, still flush with feather-like leaves. Plump red berries dripped from in-between the sheaf of green, bright as a cascade of rubies.
“Here,” Ren said, holding it out to her. “It’s a rowan sprig. It’ll protect you from any wayward charms or spells while we’re at the market.”
“Oh, that’s not what I—” Pansy snapped her mouth shut, realizing the boon she’d been given. Even so, she couldn’t help but ask, turning over the twig in her hands, “Is it really okay for me to go?”
“To the market?” Ren blinked at her. “It should be fine. Everyone there knows me, so they’ll probably at least give you a chance.”
Probably. Not the most encouraging of words, but Pansy supposed it could be worse. “Would bringing along some pie help?” she asked. “I mean, everyone loves pie, right?”
Ren considered her proposal for several moments. “That’s actually a good idea,” they said at last. “The market runs off a barter system rather than the currency you’re probably used to, so you’d need to bring something along to trade anyway.”
“What sort of things are usually for sale?” Pansy asked,unable to deny her burgeoning curiosity.
They smiled at her, the curve of their lips just shy of a smirk. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough. Far be it from me to spoil the surprise.”
The way to the Goblin Market was long and dark, even with a path of tiny luminescent blooms to map every step.
It took two stumbles, one of which nearly sent the pie flying from her basket, for Ren to reach for her hand again. “It’s only going to get darker from here on out,” they said, their eyes two gleaming points in the tarnished gloom. “Stay close.”
It did indeed get darker – something Pansy hadn’t thought possible until Ren pulled her through the gaping maw of a hollowed-out tree. There, the trail plunged downwards, winding deep into the bowels of the earth, where the occasional Wayfinder, still studding their path, served as the only source of light.
But faint and flickering, these tiny blooms could only illuminate so much, like the stars overhead on a moonless night. Thank the gods she had Ren to guide her, their hand an anchor amid the warm, weightless black. Without them, she’d have doubtless walked right into solid earth the moment the tunnel veered to one side, which at this point seemed to be happening every few paces or so.
“It’s just a little further,” Ren said with a reassuring squeeze. “See the light ahead?”
What light?Pansy almost wanted to laugh.I can’t see anything!
But Ren was right. The gloom, stubborn though it was, had started to disperse, chased away by a purplish glow that, while still faint, grew brighter with each step they took in its direction.Soon, Pansy could even see again. Not perfectly, mind you, but well enough that she didn’t need to rely on Ren any more. Still, she made no move to remove her hand from theirs – and, for the record, neither did they.
