Chapter Two Hundred and Seven - Reciprocation

It would take, winds willing, a few hours to get back to Insmouth. By the time we arrived, I guesstimated that it would be an hour or two past noon. That meant that we’d need to have lunch aboard the Beaver Cleaver.

I left Clive, the harpies and the Scallywags to do the complicated work of flying the airship while I headed down and into the kitchen to prepare lunch. The only hands that were free were Awen and Amaryllis and... neither was all that good at the whole cooking thing.

I was humming while inspecting the ingredients we had available when Amaryllis moved out of her room and came to stand nearby. She leaned against the frame of the archway leading into the kitchen. “Do you need help?” she asked.

I tapped my chin. “I could use a bit of help, sure,” I said. “I think I’ll be making a big lunch. We might need leftovers for later. A nice veggie salad, some fried fish, maybe some porridge?”

“That sounds like a big meal,” Amaryllis said as she stood straighter and walked over. “How can I help?”

I eyed her up and down. “You really want to help? With the cooking?”

“What’s wrong with me wanting to help?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just, well, didn’t figure you for the cooking sort.”

She huffed. “I can learn, can’t I?”

“Yup! You sure can.” I nodded. "Do you want to start by chopping the veggies? I’ll need them cut up into little cubes to start with.”

“Hmph, fine,” she said.

I opened a sack of potatoes and another of turnips and then grabbed some purple-skinned carrots and set them all on the table where we could start cutting. A big cauldron came next, so that we had a place to toss all the cut veggies.

I hummed as I found a pair of knives and started working.

“How are you?” Amaryllis asked. The question sounded a bit strained.

I blinked and looked up to her. “I’m alright?” I tried.

She glared at me, huffed a huff that I wasn’t familiar with, and went back to chopping up potatoes in... vaguely cube-like shapes. She was trying her best, so I wouldn’t complain. They’d all be mashed up anyway.

“You... urgh, this isn’t something I’m good at,” Amaryllis whined.

“You’ll get better,” I said.

“I’m not talking about the cooking, you dolt.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Then what are you talking about?”

Amaryllis continued to chop her veggies, she was quiet for a long bit, but it felt like she was working up to something, so I didn’t interrupt her silence. “Broccoli,” she began. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“And yet you’re still smiling, and you’re still worried for everyone, and you’re still doing your best,” she continued.

“Uh, yeah, that’s what a good friend does.”

“Even when I constantly call you an idiot? And when Awen constantly depends on you to be her... pillar, I suppose?”

I blinked. I didn’t know exactly where she was going with all of that. “Yes?”

She huffed, and this time it was a very plain, very frustrated sort of huff. “You’re a... you’re a pain to deal with sometimes, Broccoli Bunch,” she said. “Most people wouldn’t weather all the stuff you’ve been through as well as you have.”

“Thanks!” I said.

“No,” Amaryllis said. “It wasn’t a compliment. Well, I do suppose you could take it as one. What I mean is,” she paused, then rubbed a wing under her nose. “You know, I was not always as confident as I am now.”

I felt like she was trying to say something important without saying it, and in moments like that the best thing a good friend could do was listen. Still, I continued working on our lunch, not that it took much attention.

“When I was younger I was the most timid of my sisters. Clementine can be incredible, but she casts a long shadow, and Rosaline has always been Rosaline. Loud and confident and always getting herself into trouble, then flying out of it with a wink and a smile. So... I was the timid one. That started to change as I got a little older, as I tired of my role in the family and started to...” She squirmed a bit. “Dream. As I started to dream of a future where I was my own harpy. School helped, it gave me an environment out of my sisters’ shadows. It gave me harpies from other clans to bicker and fight with, and allowed me to spread my wings a little. I don't remember any instantaneous change, no stark turning point... but bit by bit, I must have been changing. Little victories, building on each other, until without quite realizing it, I'd become more... me. I left the family, took a class that I appreciate more, and set off for adventure.”

“That’s when we met?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yes. That was an experience.”

“A good one,” I replied.

She huffed, a very ambivalent, sarcastic huff. “Let’s go with that. My point with that rather trite story is to say that I understand if you’re having difficulty acting as confident as you have been.”

“Uh,” I said. I don’t think I had any trouble being confident or anything. Still, Amaryllis seemed worried, which was weird. There wasn’t anything to worry about. Sure, the last dungeon had been tough, and we were all a bit tired by the end, but we had won, hadn’t we? “Did you want me to tell a story about when I was young too? To make us even.”

“My goal wasn’t to make us even or anything,” Amaryllis said.

“You once said that you could tell someone something private, and then expect them to return the favour. Remember? You called it reciprocation.”

Amaryllis blinked. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” I said. “Um, well, I remember you telling it to me. The details are a bit vague now. It was a while ago.”

The floor creaked a bit, and when I looked over, it was to find Awen stepping in. She had her hands folded over her tummy and was looking a bit bashful. "Awa, sorry, I kind of ... kind of had my room's door opened and I, ah, might have... overheard. A little."

“That’s okay,” I said.

Amaryllis harrumphed. “I suppose.”

“Do you need help? Or I could go, if you two are having a, ah, moment,” Awen offered.

I glanced at Amaryllis. Were we having a moment? Weren’t we always having moments?

“We weren’t,” Amaryllis said. “Now come over here with those stupid human hands of yours and chop these. This knife is not made for a proper taloned hand. I’m going to develop a crick in my wrist at this rate.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were having a hard time. I thought you were just really bad.”

Amaryllis’s feathers poofed with indignation. “Not just dumb, but rude too,” she said. “Now get on with the story, I’m going to fill the pot with water.”

“Just about a quarter full,” I said. “As for stories... I don’t know what to tell? My life was very boring, you know?”

“I doubt that,” Amaryllis said.

“I can tell one,” Awen said. “While you think, if you want.”

“I’d love that!” I cheered.

Awen smiled as she took her place on the table alongside me and started working. “I don’t have very interesting stories. Uncle Abraham’s visits were always the most exciting thing. Otherwise I’d just spend the day with lessons or practicing. I liked playing with different instruments, it was one of the only parts of being a lady that was nice. Not that I could just play anything.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Some instruments aren’t lady-like.” Awen said. “A flute is, a piano is, but a lute or a banjo aren’t. They leave you with unseemly calluses and things like a cello require that the lady put herself in a compromising position to play.”

“Huh?” I asked. “That’s stupid.”

Awen giggled. “Yes, a little,” she agreed. “But that’s how it is. When I became a mechanic, my parents were very disappointed, but I was a little too sickly to bring to a dungeon to change my class, and all the good, lady-like classes are in dungeons that are somewhat dangerous now, most of them near the capital and, well, whenever I heard them talking of moving me over, I’d play sick for a bit.”

Amaryllis snorted. “Well done, there.”

Awen looked down. “Ah, thanks. I always wanted to practice my mechanical skills, but it’s hard to do that when you’re not allowed. So I tended to be very clumsy. I’d break things, then put them back together. Some of the maids and servants were very helpful! They’d bring me some tools and sometimes give me things that needed to be fixed. Like mechanical clocks and some devices in the kitchens. That’s why I was able to keep up a little, and I was always a bit better the next time Uncle Abraham would come around.”

I placed my knife on the table, stepped towards Awen, and engulfed her in a big, rib-creaking hug.

“Awa?”

“You can do as much mechanical stuff as you want when you’re with us. Or none. Or if you get some other hobby, you can do that as much as you want, alright?” I asked.

Awen laughed and returned the hug with a good squeeze. “You’re being silly, Broc. I know all that.”

“Oh,” I said as I loosened the hug. “Well good.” I nodded. “My turn?”

“Certainly,” Amaryllis said. “Do we put any spices in this?”

“No, but put it on the stove. We need to set it to a boil so the veggies get mushy. Here, let’s put the rest in too.”

While the veggies boiled, I started to prepare a bit of salad for the side. Nothing much. Tiny tomatoes, some leafy greens, a few slices of carrot and some oil that I mixed with a few spices and herbs that we had drying on a rack in the little pantry.

“I think... so, you girls know that I like adventure, right?”

“We noticed,” Amaryllis said. She was sitting up on a bench built into the wall under one of the portholes, a bird enjoying the sun.

“Right, well I wasn’t always a huge fantasy fan. When I was really young, my parents moved often. I don’t really remember all the places I’ve lived in. Sometimes we were only in a town for half a year, other times it was a bit longer.”

“Were your parents traders?” Awen asked. “We had a lot of people like that in Greenshade.”

“Nah, my dad couldn’t keep a job, nor could my mom, and they both liked moving a lot. We lived in mobile homes and apartments and all sorts of places. We’d change provinces every so often too. Anyway, when I was.... Ah, I think I was in grade seven? So I must have been about fourteen, or maybe I was still thirteen? Around that age.”

“A teenager, barely a juvenile, but not quite,” Amaryllis said. “Old enough to lay eggs.”

“Uh,” I said. I shook my head. “Something like that. So, I’d just moved to this new school. First year of secondary school, so all the students were new too, even though I’d come in half-way into the year, it wasn’t so bad. At least, I’d hoped.”

“Did you make lots of friends?” Awen asked.

“Nope. Just one. It was this boy who didn’t have any friends. He had a stutter, and wasn’t good at sports and stuff. We were in the same classes, and he always sat by the front, which is where I like to sit. We talked a bit and became buddies.”

“Your first friend?” Amaryllis asked.

“One of them. He really, really liked books. Fantasy stories, with magic and wizards and all sorts of cool stuff. So I started reading those too, and we always had something to talk about.” I felt a little sad as I set the salad aside. “We should start on the fish. Awen, can you mash the veggies for me?”

“Ah, sure.”

I got a pan out and oiled it, then fetched the fish from a rune-powered fridge. “Anyway, we moved again that summer. Never saw him again. But I still remember some of those stories. They kept me company for a long time. I guess I learned that from him.”

I hummed as the fish fizzled on the snapping and crackling oil.

“Is... that the whole story?” Amaryllis asked.

“I guess so?”

Amaryllis stood up and walked right up next to me. “I’m going to hug you now. Don’t go thinking anything about it. This is your one hug this week, so enjoy it.”

“Huh?” I asked.

But then my protests were drowned in a fluffy, feathery hug.

***