ღ꧁ღ╭⊱ꕥ RenFaire Au: Steel and Dust ꕥ⊱╮ღ꧂ღ

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There was just something in the air.

The sun rose soft that morning just as it always hard; peeking over roofs and into alleyways, dipping into the little nooks and crannies of the various shops that lined the streets, and in bright slats through the many trees that filled the grassy spaces between paths. Patches of sun lit the open courtyard, glinting off metal weapons and armor that sat ready to be polished and prepped for the day by the various workers that would find use in such regalia. Already, the sweet smell of roasting beans carried through the air on a passing breeze. Karen was already hard at work in one of the many large nooks that would be selling food and drink to the patrons of the day. The old espresso machine tucked away behind her counter was edging on antique, yet still it spat out coffee year after year. A handmade ceramic mug from one of the potters that made this place home every summer, and she settles against the wooden front with her cup of something warm to watch the rest of the camp wake and settle into position.

Across the way, a man nearing seven feet tall and broad enough to make it seem like more pulls open the partition that separates their large shop from the cobbled street. His wife will be up soon as well as soon as she and their children slip into something more in line with the rest of the workers. Thomas didn’t understand much of the modern world, but something about this attraction put him at ease. He could watch potters craft bowls the same as his grandfather used to out on their front porch, watch a woman weave scarves and blankets with yarn crafted by another shop owner with the same sure steady grace of his own mother. And he, well he could sell his moonshine in their glass ball jars for a price his pa would slap him for and people loved it. Came back year after year for it in fact, made it a hot item at the bars littered around the faire. There was little guess as to who would buy it. They were easy to spot with how they stumbled over their own feet after a glass. Molly loved it, claiming it made visitors looser with tips. Whatever it was, he was simply glad enough it was good enough to keep him and his family here.

Lyov stumbles past his shop then with a tired wave and a loud yawn. The man was resplendent in his elaborate hand knit cardigan and scarves. More of a blanket than anything, the thing nearly kissed the ground with its many tassels and beads. He’s one of the later risers and owner of the apothecary near Karen’s stall. His hands worked daily in the familiar steady stream of essential oils, handmade plant remedies, and individual drugstore brands the masses would generally be demanding after a long day of drinking. It was certainly an unusual stall, but he normally left the day to say operation of it to his son Augustine and the young chemistry student that worked summers between classes. Shoris is already there, his hair elaborately done up, cardigan dripping from his shoulders, and chatting idly to a half asleep Auggie nearly falling from the stool behind the high platformed register. A quick little ‘good morning’, three evenly distributed cups of espresso, and Lyov joins Shoris as he unloads last minute stock onto the shelves.

Soft music from one of the smaller stages joined the scent of coffee in the air. Molly was certainly up early, strumming his various instruments to make sure they were all in tune for the day. Not that it would matter much; the man was almost supernaturally gifted with how he could tune into and play up a crowd. His voice croons low now, just a simple song for a simple tune. It drifts soft around the empty benches and chairs, fills the open air with a warmth just starting to simmer in the slowly rising morning light. Never during the day is he this quiet. Never during the afternoon can he indulge in something a little more melancholy. Here though, his only audience are the workers that know him and even then, only the ones awake this early. Molly trusts they’ll keep this small secret to themselves.

Strumming a last little note, he sets his tools down for the moment. He has yet to really put himself together for the festivities today; he felt it better to give his fellow workers a brief reprieve from the many jangly bits and bells on his usual attire.


Besides, he had an idea for where to possibly find new pieces to add to his repertoire. He knew who kept the good shit.



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“No, no. Repeat that for me and everyone else here.”


Molly’s smile as he leans on the shop counter is more smug than it has any right to be. Were it any other moment of any other day, Lazarus might think a little harder about putting one of the blades on the wall through his perfect teeth. Upward curve of a blade from a low stance, preferably a mid sized rapier like the ones he favored for their demonstrations; he can nearly map the scene as it is in his mind’s eye. If he did it now, he could hide the body and mop the blood before Sam got here to open the day. Unfortunately, as it stands now, the faire opens in less than half an hour and Molly is scheduled for a performance about thirty minutes after that. He’s fairly popular too, so there would be questions were his body to be found strung from the acrobatic stage. Unfortunate inconveniences.


“As I was saying,” Lazarus says, pointedly ignoring the man’s look in favor of lining the daggers in the case up in a very particular manner. “None of Maribelle's stock is stolen. You’re causing drama where there is none, as per usual.”


“And yet it's lower than her count at faire’s end yesterday. That, and I found these -” the costume prop dangles from his fingers like some ill gotten treasure, “Inside your rv this morning.”

“I think a more pressing matter is why you were in our rv this morning.” Lazarus snaps as he grabs for the prop. Molly’s hand flickers too fast and only a moment later, the little headband sits comfortably on his own artfully disheveled hair. Damn the charlatan.

“You have the best clothing, fancypants. Wanted to see if there was anything good for today, but don’t you worry,” he laughs. His body is leaned against the other side of the counter, head tilted just out of reach. “Sam came in before I could get far. He shooed me out before I could steal anything good. Only got to the stuff from yesterday by your bed, and lord knows I don’t want your dirty laundry...oh. OH.” The dawning realization written all over Molly's face doesn’t bode well for Lazarus.


“Out.”

“Oh my god, Lazarus. Oh my god. Lazarus!”

“OUT.”


“Is it a kink? Do you have kinks?” Molly looks entirely too delighted for this early  in the morning and the red dusting over Laz’s cheeks is not helping the man’s enthusiasm. “You weren’t wearing it the night before and it was in your laundry! Who wears it, I have to know!”


“Neither of us, leave. You have other people to harass, people you get paid to harass.”


“This is more important, Lazarus- fuck, ah, that’s how I make money, let go-” His voice cuts off once Laz lunges for him, hand over the counter and in the man’s shirt holding in vice like. He’s seen the man’s practical demonstrations of what he happened to sell; it doesn’t bode well for his chances of leaving in one piece. Molly flashes the man a bright smile. “Let's not be too, ah, hasty-”

“Lazarus.” A new voice interrupts them. They both freeze as Sam walks into the shop in near full regalia. Sam has an act with Lazarus that’s a combination demonstration of their product and theatrical performance. It must be on the schedule for a little later today because it seems he's completely forgone his more casual attire in favor of the heavier, more elaborate costume. Richly purple pants near ink dark tuck into high black leather boots bought the year before from the vendor a few booths down. His shirt is strung loose at the neck, dipping low to better show off the thin gold jewelry that hangs and catches the light, one of which is his wedding ring on a chain. His hair is done back in elaborate braids ringed in gold bands, and his eyes are smudged dark to better play up the whole ‘dark and regal’ angle he’s got going on. Around his shoulder sits the feathered cape he uses for performances. Molly doesn't quite understand how it works and he’s seen it both during performance and during the day; the whole thing folds out into a massive pair of prop wings that always manage to look impressive when fanned out during a fight. He’d explained it briefly once, something with hydraulics and mechanics and whatever else, but Molly was pretty sure there had been a hefty amount of the Maynard’s stock involved that night and the facts had just not seemed to stick.


Heavy boots and the light jangle of jewelry brings him back to the current moment. That, and Sam’s very nice voice. “Drop the bard.”


“It’s so unfortunate you’re married.” Molly sighs, deep and dramatic as Laz’s hand around his collar loosens. He staggers back just briefly as Laz leans back against the counter he had crossed to assault Molly. Really, Molly thinks as he brushes his outfit back out, man needs to step up his game when his husband looks like that. Money certainly isn't an issue.

“Very happily, I’ll remind you.” His head dips just briefly as he passes them towards the back to catch Laz in a brief kiss. “Coffee, habibi? I’m suffering.”

“Back room. Got it at Karen’s this morning.”

“Late night?” Molly hums innocently at them. The glare Laz gives him promises death a thousand different ways were Sam not there while his hand twitches anyway as if reaching for a sword that’s currently hanging from the back wall. Molly would guess… the rapier. He favors it in fights.


“Mmm.” Sam yawns briefly, oblivious to the two for the moment. His eyes open briefly to look between them, closing with a roll after finally noticing the prop tucked neatly on top of Molly’s head. “It’s too early for this. I’m too old for this. Why... “ he sighs and waves a hand. “I don’t want to know.”


“I do.” Molly steps backward, already prepping to run should Lazarus decide to put one of the nearby daggers to more use than a glass case. “Sam, who wears it?”


The rush of air is all he hears before something sinks into the hard wood of the pillar behind him. There’s no way… His head turns to see the headband prop pinned by one of the daggers he had eyed earlier. From the way Laz’s eyes flick between the counter and the pillar in surprise, it wasn’t him. Behind him, Sam turns a second dagger over in his hand as he walks to the back part of the store.


“Not you.” He calls over his shoulder before the curtain cuts him from view.


Molly is stunned into silence for a long second. “That’s hot. Neverfuckingmind, Lazarus, you looking for a third? Or like-” Sure hands on his back push him out of the store. “Consider it!


“Goodbye, Molly.” One final push, and he’s back out on the dusty cobblestone streets of the faire. Really. So rude. Darkly tanned hands brush off imagined dirt from his brightly colored, artfully ragged clothing before setting off towards the stage and from there, the front gates. He’d see the two of them later that night when everyone came together for drinks, perhaps a new offering of something similar to what he found would be enough to get Lazarus off his back. Or be funny enough to make his following demise a bit more worth it. One of the two.

His whistled tune follows him out, carried as easily through the grounds as the breeze through his hair. More and more, he can feel the shops filling with workers, can hear the slow start to the day as the faire hums to life. His eyes close for just a moment, just long enough to let the atmosphere sink into him.


“On y’ left!”


His eyes snap open at the familiar drawl. A young man, broad as his father, hustles up and past with a massive box in his arms. With curly hair tied back with a ripped piece of cloth, the almost standard loose historical shirt,  and loose pants held up by a sash and embroidered most likely by his mother with gorgeous trailing leaves and vines, Tobias Maynard hurries past him with a quick “Mornin’, Murphy.”


“Tobi! What’s the rush?”

“No rush. Just wanna get it done sooner rather than later.” He settles to a stop, moving a stray curl from his face with a quick puff of air. “Pa’s been up since early gettin’ shit around.”


“Nothing to do with wanting to meet a certain someone before the first joust?”

“Aw hush. Ain’t that.” The red in his cheeks rivals Laz’s from earlier. Ah, young love. So delicate, so sweet.

“Should stop by Karen’s. She might have some breakfast or a coffee you could take to the young lady.”

Tobi adjusts the box in his arms looking thoughtful. “Karen’s, breakfast. I can do that.”

“You do that.” Molly pats one of the boy’s admittedly large arms. “Go on, better hurry.”


A chuckle more, and Tobi is back on his way towards his parent’s shop. Feet one after the other carry Molly back towards his original purpose, to grab something to strum to unsuspecting patrons. Oh, it should be… should be something bright. Cheery, almost unnecessarily so for the time of day. He’s certainly tempted to pull out the accordion, but no. Start with the classics, save the more jarring instruments for later in the day when people are drunk. It’s a much better plan. Lithe fingers wrap around the neck of the guitar on stage, the one with the little painted flowers along the body. A quick pass of a hand over the strings and… perfect.

This one would do just fine.



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“Miss Karen!”


Tobi’s boots pound against the dirt and stone around Karen’s food stall as he runs up to it. Strong hands catch himself on the scuffed and painted wooden counter. Posters with illustrations of the stall’s offerings flutter in the light breeze, the sound mingling with the soft rustling of nearby treetops. “Could I, ah, is there anything I could take to Noelle? Like breakfast or somethin’? Molly said you might have somethin’.”


“Hold on, hold on. Say it again slower, dear?” Karen shifts from her spot on the back wall to meet Tobi at the counter.


“Breakfast. I was, well, wonderin’ if there were somethin’ I could take Noelle. If that’s alright.” The pink in his cheeks from earlier certainly hasn’t faded, much to his chagrin. A hand through his hair to keep the quiet nervousness at bay only serves to push it up enough to expose the burning red tips of his ears.

‘Poor boy,’ Karen thinks with a small, private smile. ‘Really has it bad.’ She reaches behind her though for the large paper cup she had just poured, clips a lip on it before handing it over to the large young man. “For Noelle. She’s had her breakfast, but I think she might appreciate a little pick me up. Bit of tea with some honey I brought from home, I’ll let you take the credit.” she says with a little wink.


“Ma’am, that aint necessary.” Tobi grabs the drink like it's a precious thing. “Ain’t no mind if I tell her I'm just the delivery boy.”

She waves him off. “Nonsense. Go, before it gets cold.”


“Right. Right! Thank ya’, ma’am!”


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Tobi trudges heavy across the dirt and gravel trails that lead further into the grounds. Back this far, the shops and cobblestone walkways fade to open fields, colorful pennants, and demonstration grounds. And of course the jousts. No self respecting renaissance fair could go without a good joust, or so he had been told again and again by the wiry bastard that had dragged him into this mess. Jake had been all too persistent in prying him from his parent’s shop and into the acts, claiming all he had to do was ‘stand there and be big’. Well, ‘stand there and be big’ had quickly turned to ‘lift me up’ to ‘could you toss me? You could toss me, right?’ to the more recent ‘Dude, we’ve got a set of armor just your size, you should come hang with us’. Nevermind that armor just didn’t come his size. He hadn’t seen any other performers his height and width they could just borrow from, so that shit had to be custom made. So Jake had continued to drag him, and while he knew he could knock the man into next week anytime, there was a pretty solid perk to hanging around and indulging him.

Said perk was currently in the stands and looking as though she was writing something. It was a journal Tobi had seen her with plenty of times before, and always while she was writing. Hell, the girl wrote just as much as she worked the jousts; it baffled him some days why she didn’t just work the bookshop. She turns to him and here, framed in the early morning sun slanting through the branches around them, she’s radiant.


“Noelle!” he calls, giving her a wave once he’s close enough. “Got tea!”

The summers meant early mornings, with light barely peeking through the floral curtains of their RV. The light danced across her knitted blanket as the young lady tossed and turned for a moment before a long arm snaked out from the covers and pawed around for her glasses on the bedside shelf that folded out from the wall. The one thing about their living arrangements was that she didn’t need an alarm clock most mornings, as the windows on either wall of her bunk graciously did it for her.

A soft groan escaped her lips as she carefully sat up, bending her long body a little oddly at the torso to accommodate, before rubbing her eyes with slender hands and placing the round spectacles onto her nose. The world was suddenly sharper in shape and color- the folds and knots of the knit at her lap, the plethora of books and notebooks stacked up against the wall, the handful of pillows and extra blankets at the corner of her little space. Beyond this, yet still in her sightline, were the opened privacy curtains she often forgoed before falling asleep, and a ladder to her sister’s bunk above her. If she listened, she could hear Joy above her, snoring so loud it would probably scare the most fearsome of beasts. Noelle almost snorted- it would take so much more than the sun to wake her up.

Further still in her eyeline was the rest of their home- a kitchenette, a dinette, a leather chair complete with a small mountain of folded handmade blankets, as well as the opposite wall with a small wall-mounted television and the open door looking into her mother’s bedroom. Well, bedroom in the sense there was a bed and her mother slept in it, but the bed had already been folded back up into the wall, and the floor was covered in tools of the trade, all laid out for Jake and the rest to pull from later that morning.

Sam had fixed it up for them after their second season- told her mother to stop commuting and just hit the road with the rest of them for the rest of the year. Of course, this was the second year after a messy divorce, and the little troupe was running the gambit on festivals from Maine to Oregon. It was rather exciting for the small family of three: Noelle had been pulled out of fourth grade to be homeschooled, Joy was transferred from daycare to the watchful eyes of the handful of men that made out the rest of the group. It was all in all, a great trade-off.

Karen had started as a performer- acrobatics and gymnastics were something that she pursued in her youth, and it was an act that needed to be filled. Truthfully, it was only a way to make some extra money- the weekend shifts at the restaurant she used to serve were slowly being filled more and more by the tired yet determined college students in the area. So, getting creative, she took the flyer that had been stapled up at that very restaurant and marched over to the fairgrounds, demanded an audition. Again, with the current set, there wasn’t really a female acrobat in their current location, and Karen was far more flexible in time as well as body. And, as she continued to work with the group, it was revealed that she had a natural ability to stoke the passions of the crowd. This was just the first inkling to her use in the more administrative roles that she found herself privy to in the years to come.

“Good morning, sweetpea.”

A sleepy sound escaped Noelle’s lips as her mother entered the camper, holding a basket of laundry to her hip. While she had aged since their first season, Noelle knew her mother was still primed with beauty. Long ash brown hair, a willowy frame that was filled out with the curves that Noelle lacked, and wide, youthful brown eyes that sparkled with her smile were just some of the features at her disposal. Karen walked across the room to put the basket down in her room, calling out as she was undoubtedly folding the colorful costumes and well worn work clothes.

“Noe, hon, we gotta get you up and ready. Lots of prep for today, you know that it is a busy weekend for all of us, and Sam has asked for very specific acts for all of us.”

A hand slid down her face as the other pulled her from her bunk, before feet landed on the floor beneath. With a stretch that pulled her gangly length even taller, fingers brushing against the roof, her voice was tight with a yawn caught in her throat.

“What act?”

“It’s going to be the fair maiden to lady knight plot today- start in the dress, end in the armor. Now- don’t make that face!”

Despite not being in eyesight, Noelle relaxed her face as it scrunched up in reaction to the reveal. Truthfully, It was not one of her favorite story lines. It wasn’t that it was bad- on the contrary, it was actually well crafted, if a bit cliched. She would mill about the faire for the day, melding with the crowd, and, when the time came, she would step out in the jousting ring to play for whatever the stakes called for that weekend. Sometimes it was to take the place of her father, others it was to avenge the death of a close friend, sometimes it was just for the fun of it. But, still, it was rather dull when this story was pulled year after year. Her mind wandered to the notebook on her bunk shelf, where she had started to map out something new to present to Lazarus and Sam, to add some variety to their act.

Maybe one day she would have the nerve to confront them with new ideas.

Noelle yawned and headed to the small fridge in the kitchenette, opening it to the bare necessities that this time of season usually brought- fresh fruits, yogurt, a couple bottles of water. There was no use in ingredients for an actual meal, as they usually got first pickings of whatever was left over that day from the stalls. She looked, frowning at the limited choices, cursing Joy for taking the last peach-flavored yogurt. Only strawberry and plain old vanilla. Behind her, the sound of footsteps made clear that her mother was on her way to make it back to her stall.

“Your chemise is hanging in my room- I would put on the pale blue overdress. Sun is supposed to be mighty fierce, which reminds me, I put some extra sunblock at my stall when you need to reapply. Lazarus should have some too, I slipped it behind his counter this morning while making my rounds-”

Noelle’s fingers finally curled around the plastic strawberry yogurt cup win a mindless grip, as she turned and was suddenly face to face with her mother. It was a face that would be similar to hers in a matter of decades, lined from laughter and weather.Long, with wide brown eyes, brown hair fashioned into a bun with a leftover piece of clothesline rope. Besides the exact shade of brown of her mother’s hair being a bit darker than her own, Noelle knew full well that her mother could go in and play her role in the joust without suspicion.

Long fingers held out a paper cup inbetween them, a stopper to keep the heat in. Noelle took it with her free hand, the warmth balancing the cold yogurt in the other.

“Coffee. For my darling daughter. Made lovingly from the ancient piece of nonsense in Sam and Laz’s.”

She had to bite back a smile on that- somehow, that old machine made the best brew. Especially if Sam was behind it. But still, she wasn’t one to complain, but-

“Sorry, Noe. It’ll be a bit.” Karen’s laugh filled the small space, her free hand giving Noelle’s hair a gentle pet before pulling her close, lips pressing to her forehead. “The espresso machine is on the fritz again. Sam or Newt need to give it a look before opening. Your morning triple will have to wait.”

With a sigh, Noelle dragged her feet into the bedroom to change, taking a long draw from the coffee cup. Just as all faire days, it was looking to be a long one.
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“And then! I was thinking that Tobi could throw me up, and I grab onto the parallel bars, pull a Kovac, swing to the haystack, it’ll sure be a crowd pleaser. Hell, I can hear them cheering us on now.”

Her hands drifted to the horses neck and gave a gentle stroke. The dappled grey Andalusian mare had been her mount for three years now, and the horse was getting just as irritated with the gangly ginger’s schemes as her rider. Noelle swore she saw an eyeroll on the delusion of this actually working.

“And you told Lazarus about these grand plans? Got them approved?”

Jacob McKinley, with all his limbs and ideas of grandeur, gave a shrug that was loose and breezy, matching his general air. The horse under her hands actually gave a snort, and eyed the gangly man with an expression that said ‘Oh, you have to be kidding me’, which Noelle had to wholeheartedly agree with.

“Approval, shmapproval, amiright? At the end of the day, Laz isn’t gonna care once it proves a favorite of the crowd. So, I am going to just gonna talk to Tobert and get him to do it with me. I mean, he would just be throwing me. Ain’t like he hasn’t done that a million times already.” Jake’s smile grew with Noelle’s annoyance, stretching one arm over the other, as if he was going to pull this stupid stunt right here and now. Tobi was strong enough to throw the mess of limbs and torso, all you needed was to look at the big man with his thick arms to know he could do it. But Tobi was awfully bust with other things to work on this idiotic trick- he had his parent’s stall for one, and they already wasted his time with enough rehearsal! Not that Noelle thought it was a waste- In fact, she found herself always quite excited to change up the program a bit. But not so last minute.

“Well, you are going to do whatever you do, we all know that. However-” She took a firm bristled grooming brush from the bucket at her feet, pushing through the gray fur, dust billowing above them. “You better not let Lazarus catch you. He’d probably pull you from the rest of the season.”

“Puh-lease! If he wanted to pull me from the season, he would have! Truth is- I cover lotta gaps when they come up. Worst comes to worst, he puts me on petting zoo clean-up for a weekend, and kicks me back to shows once I make a big enough mess trying to make it a bit more fun for the kiddos.”

“A bit more fun? Didn’t you get attacked by the chickens the last time?” She didn’t bother looking at him from her tasks. But, as reluctantly as she was to admit it, it was true. Jake was not only the “showboat” persona for their joust, but also a juggler, an acrobat, a firebreather, a busker, and an actor who roamed the streets as whatever they needed for the story. Whether it was a beggar, an astronomer, most often a jester, Jake just did whatever was asked of him, and often more. He was originally a quick band-aid solution for a very hungover Molly but had grown into an invaluable member of their little troop.

Still. As much as she appreciated Jake for his talents and kindness, his sunny attitude at testing the grumpier half of their leadership also grated her patience just a little. He was really easier to hang out with when they weren’t one-on-one. When Tobi was around-

Speaking of. Where was he? He usually made his way to say hello to Noelle by now, always makes it a point before they open up. Usually would come up to her RV with some news, maybe a little gossip. But she hadn’t seen any sign of him all day- he was scheduled to be there, but maybe something had come up? Noelle began racking her brain- she had passed his parent’s stall on the way to the horse trailers, had she seen them there? And his sister, Agnes, had she seen her going around with large sacks stacked on top of her shoulder?

“You are thinking WAY too loudly. I saw Tobi on the way over, no worries.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that.” She said far too quickly for it to be perceived as truthful. Her eyes hardened as they flicked over to the gangly redhead, but they were met with a cheeky grin and a glint of mischief in his own eyes.

“Oh, don’t even try that, when your eyes go all dreamy like that and look up, I know what you’re thinking about. He’s here, just been running errands. I saw him when I drove in.”
She tossed the grooming brush back into the bucket, frowning deeply that Jake, who was usually oblivious to everything around him, had discovered her crush. Noelle’s hands then moved to the lead rope tied to the post, hands fumbling to loosen the note. Jake gave a soft chuckle, and Noelle could have sworn that the dapple grey horse returned it with a snort.

Traitors, she thought bitterly as she got the rope free and began to lead the horse to the corral near the arena. Traitors, the both of them

--------------


They had maybe a half-hour before the gates would open.

There was always a kind of buzz before they opened for the day. People bustling around, Lazarus doing a final walk-through and inspecting things thoroughly, Sam wishing everyone a great faire day and handing out water bottles. It was customary for at least one thing to go wrong; last week, Jerzy had a mass escape of chickens, and the poor man was left to chase them down the main street, collecting them with only three minutes to spare. The week before, Molly was still hungover and got sick in one of the planters, leaving Lazarus fuming.

There was always something.

However, Noelle usually did not partake in such chaos. Instead, she usually used the time to be alone and enjoy the fleeting quiet in her trailer. But now, today, she found herself in the stands ust outside of the jousting ring. She was laid out, her hair fanned out behind her like the finest of peacock’s, while other strands fell gently off the bench. She had pushed her glasses up to hold back her bangs, only to have her eyes closed as the sun snaked back from behind a cloud.

And she listened.

She heard some laughter, far off, that sounded like her mother’s tell-tale cackle. She heard the calls of songbirds as they flitted between branches, she heard the crow of the old rooster at the petting zoo. She heard the wind whistle pass through the trees overhead.

She heard heavy footsteps coming right her way.

Noelle rose quickly, bolting up as if she was startled. Although, it might have been too quick, as Noelle found herself a little light-headed, black threatening her vision. She shook it off and blinked away the dizziness, pulling her glasses back down to her nose, but she had seen the figure and recognized him by shape immediately. He was quite distinctive- broad shoulders, thick frame, a frizzy mess of curls, and freckles that marked him like the night sky. Her heart leaped when he smiled at her. Just her.

“Noelle! Got tea!” He called out, waving and holding a paper cup forward for her- it was from the cafe stall, she knew from the sleeve.

“Good Morrow, Tobias.” She gave a little bow of the head, but her face made it clear that the Renny speak was merely a joke, as a smile rose to her cheeks. He took this as an invitation to reach over to hand her the cup, plucking it from one well-worked hand and into one with nimble fingers “You didn’t need to get me anything. Although it’s appreciated.”

She held the cup with both hands and took a sniff, the herbal brew wafting up to her nose. It was familiar. Comforting. Tea. She relished in it, keeping the silence for a moment before she continued.

“So! Are you ready for today’s events?”

“Always ready, least that’s what I’ll say. I know Jake usually throws me through some sort of stupid shit later in the day, pardon the language.” Tobi laughs as he sits on the worn wood of the stands next to her. “And I wanted to bring the tea, ain’t no obligation ‘bout it. Passed by your ma on my way over.”

He spares a glance at the empty jousting area as she takes a first sip of tea. Well, mostly empty. Those who had been scheduled to perform early begin to file in in nearly complete outfits, their horses trailing behind. Tobi knows each of them; granted, he’s a little more familiar with the horses than most of the riders, but still. The same wind that ruffles the leaves on the trees works its way through the manes of the horses, gently whipping the decorative braids that had no doubt been done that morning. Satisfied that the one goon who could interrupt anything was out of sight, he heaves a satisfied sigh and settles back even further to let his arms hang on the seat behind.

“Don’t know how long you been over here, but in terms of morning gossip, there ain’t too much. No chickens, Molly ain’t two shits, Taylor ain’t out yet to make a fool. Only real anything that happen that I heard was Molly almost gettin’ castrated by the old man, but that ain’t really new.” he hums, looking up towards the banners fluttering above him. All different colors and symbols, but even from here, he could pick out the one he had always quietly rooted for. White and light blue snapped above them in the wind, the pattern still making him laugh after all this time. He remembers the group of them crafting designs late into the night when their faire was still new and members only fitting together after any edges had been smoothed over with his family’s alcohol. People hadn’t yet figured each other out: Lazarus was still the grumpy bastard in charge, Molly was just a hedonistic musician that flirted with anything that moved, and Noelle had been the antisocial bookworm holed in the corner away from any of them. It had rubbed him so long in those early days, the way she had distanced herself only to speak when she had disagreed with any of their ideas in a way he thought was a bit over righteous. In a way, she was still that. The only difference now was that she wasn’t only that.

‘She’s a lot of things,’ he thinks with a little smile. ‘Bit of an asshole still, but it held more charm.’ That, and he really enjoyed seeing her knock Jake off his horse after a long day of that same gangly fuck insisting on stunts that hadn’t practiced. Working at the faire had been an exercise in getting a little worked up over very pretty people, he was simply glad his brain had finally settled on just one.

“What do they have lined up for you today? Fair maiden bit, I’m guessin’?” he motions to the delicate dress she’s wearing with a calloused, tanned hand. “They’re goin’ full tilt then today, saw everybody in the fancy shit. Looks nice, you, ah.” he fumbles. “You look nice. Like always. You know. Yeah.”

Noelle could not help but share a private smile at the comment on foul language. They worked at a Renaissance Faire, for Christ’s Sake. Having patrons and cast stumble around with the mouths of sailors was not only reserved for pirate weekends.

As he settled down, she sat up further, pulling her knees in. All were covered but a peek of her calves between the worn leather boots and long linen skirt. She did her best to listen to the exploits of her coworkers but found herself caught in the details of Tobias. Hair dancing a bit in the wind as he spoke, and the way his lips quirked up slightly when mentioning Molly’s mischief. His eyes were clear today, not stormy as they had been when they first met. She still caught the dark looks and glares he was accustomed to give when Jake suggested some particularly stupid stunt, or when he was asked to do anything that had to do with mingling with guests and causing a scene.

Those moments always seemed to fluster him- having to disrupt people's day by announcing a pirate or a thief making off with one of the chickens. And while she could relate, as she had absolutely froze in the public performances for a good chunk of her earlier years, she found it a little silly that he would still silently resist. Cute, as well, how his jaw would set in frustration, but not true anger. And how she could usually predict the next two questions.

“Were this Jake’s idea?”

And.

“But Jake gonna be th’robber, righ’?”

Oh, he was looking at her now. And if that didn’t make her feel a little airy, and a little too aware of the sweat that had already started to build due to the heat and, well, if she was being completely honest with herself, the attention this man was giving her. Oh, my, he was blushing now, words spilling from his lips loosely.

About her.

About the act.

She immediately loosened up, and fluffed out her hair a bit “Ah, I suppose that Lazarus was too busy yelling at Molly to let you know the plan today. Yes, it is the pretty maiden bit. Although, I think I only get the role by default. But- thank you. About the looking nice part- uhm. It is very nice of you. And you look nice too! I mean, it’s the same. You know, that you always do.”

The silence between them was brief, as she felt her thick tongue dry up. How was it that she could say her lines with minimal mistake, within the pattern of her routine, but she suddenly develops a stammer when Tobi tried to make conversation? He must think her the fool over Taylor most days.

“I mean. We both will look good. When we meet in the jousting ring, right? You are one of the suitors riding for my hand today, right? In the story, of course!” She added with a short gargled cough, realizing herself once again “You know, when I am armored up and also fight for my hand. And Jake. And, of course, whoever ends up playing the fourth today.”

“I mean, yeah, we both look plenty good. You’re all dressed up though, you’re supposed to look nice though, it’s part of the act and all. I’m like, the rugged one I think. Like they dragged me out of the woods or some shit for this joust. Then you get your own hand and the patrons get right confused seein’ me back inside my parent’s store.” He laughs, basking in the brief shade of a cloud passing slowly over the sun. “Granted, don’t know if they’ll really think too long ‘bout it, considerin’ what we sell. It’ll be fun though.”

Plenty fun, he thinks to himself. Not that he’s going to tell her how much he enjoys playing a potential suitor. Jake always managed to give him sixteen winks afterward while telling him how believable his lines always were. Tobi would always manage to deck him into horseshit before Noelle came back around. Didn’t stop the man, though.


He sighs quietly to himself. Never stopped the man.


“Wonder who’s playing the fourth.” He decides on eventually saying. “Money’s on Taylor, considerin’ Agnes is too busy to play today. Hope it ain’t like last time he had to fill and got too distracted by Shoris walking by.” The audience had thought it hilarious when the lanky jouster riding under a vibrant blue and purple flag had wandered off in the middle of some horribly romantic speech to flirt hard enough with the shopkeeper at the fence that he had fallen off his horse. As far as Tobi knew, the video was up to a couple million views on Youtube and Shoris had thought it much more charming than Lazarus had; he’d caught them behind one of the storage sheds later that day.


Maybe that was the secret, he thinks. Fall off the horse.


“You doin’ anything between now and then?”

“Well, rugged looks good on you.” Noelle’s confidence come through with her words, even as her fingers twitched in her lap. It was pure will that was keeping the blush off her cheeks, but she managed to continue “And who knows- maybe after your defeat, you like your wounds in the stall. Get taken in by some kindly shopkeepers who say ‘this man. We can put him to work. And he can get his honor back through a humble living.’ I am sure Lazarus has it written in the show bible.”

She shared a private smile, looking back down in her lap. Her chin jutted up at the mention of the fellow suitors. The fourth was on rotation, always. ‘Keeps the show fresh’ was the response she received when she inquired why. Despite the fact that the show has not changed since her mother sat in her saddle, a much more sly voice would add as soon as their ringleader’s back was turned. Accompanied by a fluff to her hair and smirk before getting kicked out of the trailer for the night.

“But yeah. Probably Taylor. Or, maybe, Jerzy. If they can peel him away from the chickens. I mean, he sometimes takes Agnes’ horse.” A sigh escaped her lips, as she looked at him, eyes cautiously optimistic to the invitation her next words bring.

“Well. Lazarus likes me to walk in the merchant's alley. Stop by Molly’s show. But I have some time without any plans…. And you?”

“Well, that’s hittin’ a little too close to home there.” Tobi laughs at the mention of his family. “Agnes would play it up too hard, get me really workin’ to ‘earn my honor back’. I’d rather spend the time with Jerzy after Jake manages to let the chickens out again.” The man in question is still in the dirt ring in front of them, gracelessly bouncing around his too-short horse. “Hell, I’d take walkin’ round in that dark ass cape Sam wears in the fuckin’ heat. How the man fuckin’ does it…” He shakes his head.

“But nah. I think last I heard, Jerzy is busy with the animals, so it’s probably Taylor. He pullin’ everything so he can have this week’s evenin’s off last I heard.” Tobi kicks his feet out, lets the boots he’s wearing scuff up the dust settled in the nooks of the stands. “So you’ll gotta deal with that man. Sorry bout it.” The grin he flashes at her doesn’t seem sorry at all, though it does temper into something a bit more thoughtful at her invitation.

“When you free? We have about the same hours, and I could probably beg off a bit if it ain’t busy in the shop. You wanna get like, a drink or somethin’ with the walk? I’ll pay.”

“Oh God, Taylor” Noelle audibly groaned and laid her head back, using her arms to cover her eyes. It was like she wasn’t just blocking the sun, but the image that the revelation stirred. Another goofus, just as bad as Jake. No, Taylor was worse than his cousin in many aspects. Like somehow being able to do the whole show correctly, but with enough hammy acting and wiggling eyebrows to set her off. Jake was well-meaning and earnest at his most annoying. Taylor was intentional in all his antics, he knew what buttons to press and jammed them with his stupid slender fingers.

She made a silent vow to knock him off his horse today.

She listened to Tobi, removing her arms, but keeping her eyes closed. It was easy for the images to shift from the former to just what the young man was describing. Walking the paths, getting something to eat. Or drink. It sounded nice, she even would be happy to sit next to one another near the pond to watch the turtles swim by lazily and between the water lilies.

The thought was interrupted near immediately with the echoed call, from corner to corner of the grounds. Noelle sighed by noted the voices she recognized- Lyov, her mother, Molly, Jerzy, Sam, Agnes, and finally-”

“Two minutes til opening!”

Just as it was said, Jake slid off his steed, his impossibly long legs whipping around the saddle. It was only another moment before he jogged the pony into a trot, heading back to the stables. Noelle sighed, blinked her eyes open.

“I think it would be nice to find some time to walk around. I probably have time after the first joust, maybe around eleven? And then, I mean, after the last one… Wait, do you have to work anything for opening?”

“Well, I mean. The shop. We open with the fair, though most people don’t quite wander round us till afternoon anyway. We got the breakfast club, sure, but other than that, its just facin’ and stock and getting’ stock to yer ma and the other restaurants around. Lot of runnin’ till showtime.” He picks absently at the fraying embroidery on the waistband of his pants.

“Maybe Jake will make me do something with him, but I think with Taylor running around, they’ll grab onto each other. Why? You got something going on?”

He hopes she does. A walk in the morning with all the fresh faced first patrons of the day does sound pretty good. He might do it anyway, grab a hot cider for himself and take a little too long getting back to the other side of the grounds. But if there were a certain girl involved, all the better.

“Well, you gave me a drink” She raises the paper cup with a small smile “It only seems fair that I get you one so that we can finish it together. “And Jake hardly ever goes by the pond, since Agnes threw him in last year. Could be a way to ensure your freedom for the morning.”

She started to stand, brushing the loose grass off her skirt. With Jake out of the arena, they were alone. And as soon as she realized it, a soft blush rose to her cheeks, which she admonished herself for. It was only Tobi, her mind scolded. They had known each other since they were teenagers. No reason to be flustered.

“Besides.” Noelle felt herself sigh, the dramatic kind that she only allowed herself around those she knew best “If someone doesn’t sit with me, I am going to drift around and be pulled into some sort of nonsense. And then this coffee, it will get forgotten until just before the joust… which is hardly how I want to enjoy it.”