Chapter Text
However did I end up in a crowded pub entertained by a single overenthusiastic bard with mere potential rather than talent, you may wonder. Well, to tell the truth, my father is a fucking hypocrite with dirt in place of a brain, and I happened to have been born without a penis, an unfortunate twist of faith many find undesirable. People just love penises, eh? Especially men.
Anyway, our home was no longer ours, since the very definition of that pronoun required that the subject of the matter belong to the speaker, and the speaker in this case being left without the previously mentioned abstract noun, means that it can now only be described as theirs. Which is quite unfortunate for some, and by some I mean me. Certainly not for my stupid brother, the one with the penis.
As some would say, it is what it is. The simple thing about life everyone eventually understands is that it goes on. I just have to keep moving forward. Somehow.
Now, I can't say I'm the most intelligent person out there, but at least I got my mother's ability to make shift and manage. (Which doesn't always have a happy ending, as demonstrated by my dearest late mother, but hey, new life, new opportunity to shine.) I think I sort of recovered from the shock of being left on my own, I should be able to think clearly by now.
But oh, how destiny likes to mess with even the simplest of plans.
"Well, now. I've seen eyes that empty before, but not on a lady of such dazzling beauty."
Now that I noticed, the music was no longer there.
"Ah, if it isn't the very nightingale of this tavern. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"My... friend, and I thought you might prefer some company."
Yeah, for sure, like it's a completely normal thing. A man, says that he and another man wish for my company? And he expects me not to laugh? He must have noticed my suspicious, because he was quick to give in.
"I mean, actually, what I wanted to say is... My friend is a very lonely man, and I don't seem a company good enough for his liking, so I thought 'Why not find someone with the same look in their eyes as him, maybe that'll solve his social issues.' And after my thorough search, during which I had almost given up, I saw those dark little omens of misfortune, staring at but beyond me, with nothing behind them but gloom, worry and quiet rage."
Huh?
"And you're... a bard?"
He nodded hesitantly, as if he didn't hear me. "Y-yes."
I mean, sure, bards do need to be imaginative. But to see right through me, and to do it so charmingly, was totally uncalled for. He did manage to pique my interest, I'll give him that.
I offered him my hand, which caused an honest and sweet smile. Oh, he was so innocent, the sweetheart. He kissed my hand like it wasn't covered in dust and scars.
"Should I take this as a yes?" he asked, peering from behind my hand still in his. I motioned him to lean toward me even more. As he did so, I subtly inhaled—beyond the foul smell of smoke and alcohol, I could feel a fainting honeysuckle aroma and of course, something unique. Scent never lies, and all good men have that same inexplicable fragrance.
"Who is this friend of yours?"
"Ahh, I thought you'd never ask!" he jolted suddenly. Oh, he was born to be an entertainer. "Why don't I take you to him, and then we can all introduce ourselves to one another and see where it takes us?"
Maybe life had some plans for me after all.