Pax et Bonum

(After The Civil War [Keros write-up] [Rae write-up].)

As summer departs from the Dawnlands and gives way to mellow autumn, the air gains a slight but welcome chill and the mood in New Hillborrow turns cheerful in anticipation of the harvest. In this liminal time, the grass is still green and the leaves have yet to brown and fall from their branches, and Jaezred has seized on this slim window of opportunity to set up his barbecue soirée by the gently trickling stream that runs north of the humble village.

By the time Keros and Rae arrive, the grill is already sizzling with pork sausages, lamb patties, goat skewers, chicken drumsticks, mushrooms, buttered corn on the cob, fat and juicy tomatoes, caramelised onions, and lush brown buns — the scent alone is mouth-watering. To the side, there is a large barrel with a tap attached to its bunghole and a small table upon which a makeshift cocktail bar has been set up, stocked with various bottles of liquors and mixers.


Jaezred is tending to the grill wearing a pink apron with a fish on the chest. A black widow spider sits on his shoulder and a panther with fur of shadow lies lazily on the grass. Nearby, a stoat jumps in and out of a patch of tall grass, practising his deadly stealth attacks on unsuspecting bugs in the vicinity.

Lady Imryll is standing slightly off to one side, outfitted in a breezy pink dress and sipping a brilliant blue cocktail from a tall, frosted glass as she takes in the scenery of New Hillborrow, shading herself from the setting sun with a umbrella woven from flowers and vines, being held aloft by a mage hand. She appears to be deep in thought before turning to Jaezred at the grill with her trademark smirk in place.

“It’s nice as a garden arrangement, I suppose… But it really doesn’t have the splendour of the court, dear. It’s all very quaint, isn’t it?”

Jaezred picks up a handful of skewers from the grill and places them on a plate, then scoops up a dollop of homemade sour cream. “Well, that I must agree with. Would you like to taste some of this quaint food, dearest?”

“Well, it would be rude not to.” She takes a skewer, handing him her glass to fill his hands for a moment while she dabs a finger in the cream and dots it onto his nose, before taking her drink back with a smile. He pouts at her, and yet is unable to hide the adoration in his eyes.

However, the moment is interrupted when from the periphery of his vision, Jaezred senses his guests approaching.

“Welcome, friends!” he says as he turns to them, still with a dot of sour cream on the tip of his nose.

Keros walks in with Rae clutching his arm, taking a good look at his surroundings. The nearly 8 foot-tall, muscular, chestnut-furred minotaur is carrying his shield, but without weapons or his helmet. He has on a new set of tight purple shorts after the last pair hit the limit of how many blood stains were socially acceptable. Spotting Jaezred in an apron and holding barbecue tongs, he glances at Rae and has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from giggling.

Rae is wearing a loose, white shirt for the heat. They look fairly relaxed, if still somewhat tired. They swat Keros’s arm at the glance, and breathe deeply in an attempt to mask the blush in their cheeks. They smile as they approach the two elves.

“Good to see you, Jaezred,” Keros says. He looks to Imryll, noticing the extremely extra flower umbrella floating in the air that meshes perfectly with his expectations of this person he’s never met. “And finally, a chance to put a face to a name. Keros Pactsworn, very pleased to meet you.”

“I’m just Rae. Also so pleased to meet you. I would say I’ve heard so much about you but…I’m sure you’re aware Jaezred keeps things close to the chest.”

Finally, Keros clocks the barrel with a tap in it, glances down at the bottle of Whisper of the Winds he brought with him, and social panic begins to set in.

Jaezred wipes his nose with his apron and approaches Keros to accept the bottle. “Oh my, Whispers of the Winds! It’s my favourite beer, you ought to try it, dearest. Thank you, friend Keros.”

A mage hand fetches an empty mug sitting on the ale barrel as he uncorks the bottle. “And apologies for having supplied everything, force of habit from my upbringing. In Menzoberranzan, hosts prepare all the food and drink — less chance of getting poisoned that way, you know?”

“I don’t, and I hope I never have to.” Keros smiles. “Are those lamb kebabs?”

“Lamb, goat, pork, chicken, rabbit… No beef, I assure you. Help yourself!”

“Oh, I was just excited, I forgot about the whole ‘beef’ thing. I feel like I should try it someday?” He thinks to himself for a bit. “No, it’s too weird. Is this the kind of spread they’d put out in Menzoberranzan, then?”

“Goodness, no, we don’t have any of these creatures in the Underdark. And thank the gods we’re not, I could do with eating something other than rothé and ankheg…”

Jaezred takes a big gulp of the Whispers of the Winds as he pulls Imryll closer to him. “…And spend time with people other than drow. This, as you know, is Lady Imryll.”

He gestures at the spider on his shoulder. “This is Velve, my familiar.”

Next, at the panther lounging on the ground, eating off a bowl full of grilled mushrooms. “He’lylbreia, my companion.”

And finally, the stoat cavorting around in the tall grass. “And that is Myravalor, Imryll’s familiar.”

He turns back to his guests, beaming. “This is my family.”

Imryll gives a chuckle when she is pulled to Jaezred’s side, which seemingly has momentarily broken her from her thoughts as she has been studying the young couple before her in exacting detail. “It certainly has taken a great deal of work on my part taming this oaf, I assure you,” she says, planting a kiss on Jaezred’s cheek. “But he has kept this delightful crew a secret from me for much too long… Such interesting specimens you are!”

“You have a beautiful family, both of you. Thank you for trusting us with meeting them. It means more than you know,” says Keros.

“Agreed, we are honoured, truly. This is what we do it for, isn’t it?” Rae smiles brightly and helps themselves to a skewer. “And this is what I’ve been looking forward to. Finally trying your cooking.”

Rae takes a bite, and without thinking, their eyes close as they chew and savour the flavours. Fresh off the grill, the meat is warm and juicy and bursting with flavours of Calishite spices.

Jaezred chuckles and extends a hand to ruffle Rae’s hair. Their cheeks darken and they sheepishly stuff their mouth with more food. “It’sh real mgood.”

The floral umbrella begins to spin slowly above Imryll’s head as if she were idly playing with it, the mage hand fulfilling the act on her behalf. “I am so very much looking forward to hearing all about you, but first — a drink for everyone? I can mix everyone a drink to settle us in for the feast. Keros, shall I assume someone of your stature should enjoy something a little more adrenal-based?” She flashes a warm and welcoming smile at everyone from behind the rim of her frosted glass.

Jaezred arches a brow. “You’ve never mixed a cocktail for me before, my lady. By all means, please!”

“Oh I have, you just keep accusing me of trying to poison you.” She looks back to the gathered group. “Don’t worry, he has painstakingly removed the poisons from the drinks cart already…that he knows of.”

A slight smirk curls up from the corner of her mouth as she swans off to the table, the umbrella following dutifully.

Jaezred looks at Keros and Rae. “In case you’re wondering — yes, she has poisoned me before.”

“And he was fine!”

As they wait for their refreshments to be made, Jaezred piles Keros and Rae’s plates with hamburgers, sausage rolls, drumsticks, and skewers, all the while stealing adoring glances at his partner as she works behind the tiny cocktail bar. However, his eyes narrow with suspicion when he notices her pouring something into the mixing glass from an unlabelled bottle.

After a while, Imryll returns with a small tray of drinks. Rae and Jaezred are each offered a tall glass of a midnight black liquid, suffused with rolling clouds of sparkling silver. Keros, however, is offered a different drink: a half-pint tankard filled with a clear liquid.

“Just something to help everyone relax!” she says with a smile that seems both warm and mischievous at the same time.

“To K’ul Goran and the Dawnlands! Bottoms up,” Jaezred says, raising his glass and side-eyeing Imryll.

“To K’ul Goran and the Dawnlands!” toasts Keros as he downs his drink.

To Jaezred and Rae, there is no explicitly notable taste in their cocktail, but the effect is so immediate as to make them realise that taste is not the point here. The two of them are overcome with a sense of serenity: the feeling of calm at seeing a full moon reflected over perfectly still waters. There is a kind of bliss that comes with it that is very calming and makes them happy at a core level…at least, initially. There is something else that creeps up almost without them being fully aware, an edginess linked to that scene of calmness. Almost as if something is watching them from the shadows of night. It is a visceral feeling, a jarring mix of both serene calm and deep fright of some impending danger.

Contrastingly, Keros’s drink does have a taste to it: a very strong flavour somewhat reminiscent of fizzy lemon and Damaran vodka with something else permeating through, though he’s not quite sure what it is. Accompanying the flavours is an overwhelming emotional response that rushes through his chest — a deep sense of joy and satisfaction after beating someone he’s come to hate in a long and tough physical contest, trouncing them resoundingly. Then punching them really hard in the face.

Meanwhile, Imryll smiles politely as she sips her bright blue cocktail.

Jaezred blinks and shakes his head. “My love, I’m glad that you’re into mixing cocktails now but calm and fear don’t exactly mix well — literally.”

“So says your uncouth tastebuds. darling. I, however, am loving the effect it’s having on people. Drinks and a show!”

“Seemed very pleasant to me.” Keros sighs, lost in heartwarming visions of punching Marius Warborn in the face over and over and over again. “Incredible. Rae, how’s yours?”

Rae blinks a couple of times, adjusting to the odd sensations. “Oh… Interesting, that’s…I’m not sure I have a refined enough palate to…properly enjoy this. But wow, so interesting…” They quizzically look the drink over and study it.

“Emotion liqueur, Rae. It’s a Witching Court specialty. And it seems Lady Imryll has given Keros the good stuff. I see how it is…” Jaezred says, raising a challenging brow at the spring eladrin.

With a grin creeping across his face, he steps behind the makeshift cocktail bar and playfully bumps Imryll aside with a swing of his hips. “Let the professional show you how it’s done. Tend to the grill for me, would you?”

“Are you sure about that, dear? I may have removed some of the labels and I’d hate for you to poison your friends!” she replies cheerily before turning to Rae and Keros. “He does like to try, though, so don’t think less of him if he does.”

Jaezred scoffs as he picks out two bottles — one containing a deep red liquid with glittering golden specks swirling within and another containing a milky-white suspension. He pours these two liqueurs in equal parts into a mixing glass, adding a bit of lemon juice, a couple dashes of bitters, and egg whites. He shakes the mix with expert motion — once dry and once with ice — before pouring it out into four whisky glasses and garnishing each with a lemon peel and extra drops of bitters.

The resulting cocktail is a foamy drink of warm orange colour, evoking memories of a sunset over the ocean. “I call this one…‘The Long March Home’,” Jaezred says as he begins handing each glass out.

“If after everything we’ve been through, I die drinking cocktails at a barbecue… I don’t know how I’d feel about that,” Keros says.

“Don’t worry, no poisons in this one, I’m certain of it.” Jaezred shoots a glare at Imryll as he puts a glass in her hand.

Chuckling, Imryll flashes her signature roguish smirk at Keros. “If nothing else, I’m sure it would be interesting. So many feeble men fall to love and monsters. Break the mould!”

The cocktail has a smooth texture but it is bitterness that hits the drinker’s palate first, though it gradually evolves into a delicious, tangy sweetness — and the drinker is awash with the feeling of achieving victory following years of hard preparation. The sourness then fades and the mellow sweetness is all that remains, lingering on the tongue as the alcohol gives the stomach a warm and pleasant burn, reminiscent of sitting in front of a hearth at home, well-earned after a long absence.

After tasting his own creation, Jaezred glances at Imryll with a smug look of victory on his face.

“Your kebabs are burning, dear.”

“Shit!”

Imryll grins smugly.

---

As night falls upon New Hillborrow, the four of them light a campfire on the bank of the stream, sitting around eating barbecued meats and grilled vegetables and downing round after round of beers and cocktails.

Once everyone’s stomachs have been filled to each person’s satisfaction, Jaezred brings out a large wooden case and presents it to Keros and Rae.

Within it: an exquisitely-crafted gladius, the words NATVS • PARATVS inscribed in small letters on its crossguard and the emblem of the Republic of K’ul Goran stamped in gold on the centre of its bronze sheath; a fancy and colourful set of quills made from the feathers of a couatl, a peryton, a young roc, a pegasus, and a griffon, accompanied by small pots of high-quality inks; and, sitting folded at the bottom of the box, a two-person purple knitted jumper — one half is very large and the other half is small and slight in comparison. Embroidered across the jumper are the words Comrades-In-Arms (Arms As In Weapons).

Rae’s eyes go wide at the sight of the inks and quills and they can’t take the big stupid grin off their face. “Jaezred! Thank you so much! I’ve been through too many low quality quills, they just keep breaking. These are beautiful!”

They dash over and give Jaezred a quick hug around his arms and his body goes stiff as a plank, like he’s not used to being hugged. He gives Rae an awkward nod of acknowledgement.

Keros draws the sword and gives it a few practice swings. “Jaezred, you really shouldn’t have. I love it!”

Then he turns to Rae and whispers, “Please don’t tell me he’ll get offended if we don’t try the jumper on.”

“Just keep talking about how much you like the other stuff,” they whisper back.

“Got it.” Keros draws the sword and takes a few practice swings. “Nice weight to it. Zola already had me thinking about maybe trying out dual wielding some time… but I almost don’t want to get it dirty, it looks like more of a display piece!”

“Hmm, dual wielding would look good on you, but not nearly as good as that jumper,” Jaezred says with a smirk. He nudges Imryll cuddled up next to him. “Don’t you think so, dearest?”

“Absolutely! I insist you must try it on!”

“It didn’t work. What do we do?” Keros frantically whispers.

Rae sweats and looks around. Their brain works overtime to try and figure out situations that could get them out of this, but each one that gets them away from the jumper also either destroys it or insults Jaezred and Imryll. They sigh, and take hold of the jumper, putting it on over their head, sticking their arm through the hole. They look up at Keros, tiny and dwarfed by the jumper.

Keros looks down into Rae’s eyes, seeing in them for the first time acceptance of defeat and surrender to it. He walks over, his posture as if he were walking to the executioner’s block, and begins the extremely difficult and time consuming task of trying to put a woolly jumper over his massive horns without gutting the person he loves who is currently wearing said jumper.

Jaezred doubles over laughing and claps. “Wonderful! They look so cute, don’t you think, dearest?”

“Positively adorable. Look how sweet they are. You really should wear it always! Oh, perhaps we can get them seasonal variations, dear?”

“Mmm, yes! Only appropriate that they have another one for winter…”

“NO!” blurts out Keros before he can stop himself. “…That would be…too…generous.”

Jaezred is wheezing laughter on the ground. Imryll smiles a wide, slightly wicked grin. “Aww, it would really be no problem! I know the perfect tailor who could make you something really special,” she says. “Well, adorable knitwear aside, I think it’s about time we put my love here to work. It would be a shame to let the food go to waste and have him think he can start to relax.”

The drow lord props himself up by the elbows, huffing out a small oof sound as he does. “But I’ve been working all day being the host,” he whines.

“Hardly, dear, they’ve only just got here!”

He groans as he climbs to his feet and scoops Imryll into his arms bridal-style. “You are merciless.” He smooches her on the lips, then looks at the conjoined couple. “Good night, kids. Thanks for coming. Have fun and…good luck getting out of that.”

Jaezred turns and starts unsteadily ambling towards the Hearth and Road Inn, exchanging giggles with his beloved all the while. The panther, the spider, and the stoat trail behind them lazily.

Keros glances down at Rae. “This was a weird barbecue.”

“Worth it for the food.”

---

Co-written with:
Tom M 🐮
Harry 💜
Anthony 🌸