“Like I said. I am stronger than I look.” Morrigan hummed. “And this is hardly the first time Kvasir would be upset at me for putting my life in potentially mortal peril.” He liked to complain about heart attacks and the like, but honestly - Morrigan was sure that Kvasir Sigurros would be just fine without them. They were nearly completely finished with the manuscript of Kvasir’s life that they had managed to compile so far. That was all he needed from the shit of a lying sack of bones that had been tricking him since their first meeting.

“I bet you anything that map contains hidden treasure even greater than the power contained in this artifact. If you bring that to the mages,” And get the hell away from me as soon as possible, “They’re sure to let you in.”

They stayed seated on the dusty stone ground while Cirice Lunestre healed Bubbles. They didn’t really want to let her close to the dragon, but she had powerful healing magic, far moreso than any of Morrigan’s potions could do. They could only watch, wary, as she put her hands on the slumbering drake and patched his wounds up. She returned a couple of moments later, a little more at ease than she’d been moments ago.

Better that you haven’t seen him in some time, a small, ugly part of Morrigan sneered. Not the green, twisting vines of envy that usually flavored his conversations with powerful mages, but some weird kind of deep-seated hatred at hearing Cirice Lunestre talking about their friend. If I had my way, I wouldn’t want to see you near him at all.

“He has no clue that I’ve been doing this.” Morrigan said, worrying their chipped fang with their tongue, inspecting the damage. “He worries, you see. All of this - it’s off the books. Think of it as my own unofficial test. I may not yet be a member of the guild, but I’m an expert of all things magical. I’m merely looking to guide the younger generation where I can. So it’s kind of on the hush-hush, got it?” They said, whispered as if sharing a particularly amusing secret.

“You have a habit of doing dangerous things? But Kvasir would be really sad if something happened to you. He cares about you a lot, you know.” Cirice listens to Morrigan’s musings and chimes in with her own, “They should let me in… I hope so, that’s my best chance at finding a really good teacher to apprentice under.”

“Wait you didn’t tell him? I mean yeah of course he worries, he loves you. I’ll keep your secret, but you should tell him. He might even help you, if you asked.” She sits down next to the tiefling and pulls a muffin out of her bag, offering it to them and then realizes she still has some of their potions and takes those out carefully and sets them on the ground before them. “Sorry… I borrowed some of these before… I didn’t want to make off with them. I hear potions are expensive and hard to make, I’d just waste them.Do you like muffins?”

“It’s not a matter of doing only dangerous things. It’s the freedom to do what I want whenever I want, whether that’s playing safe or doing risky things or whatever. And no one - not even Kvasir Sigurros - will stop me from doing that.” Their tone was casual, with an underlying warning in it. Not that Cirice Lunestre was listening, lost in her own world about whether she would even get accepted or not.

Really, Morrigan wanted to scream. What could you possibly be worried about?

“A teacher, hmm?” Morrigan tapped at their chin. “Well, you’ll have no shortage of those there. I’ve met countless powerful mages that make up the guild’s ranks - the Witch of Moonglade, for one. I’m sure that anyone would take a look at your cute little button of a face and decide to take you under their wing.”

Morrigan’s diatribe came to an abrupt halt when Cirice spoke next. Love me? What is she on about now? “I don’t truly think it is of interest to him.” Morrigan explained. There were plenty of reasons they wouldn’t want Kvasir to know about this little rendezvous - namely, that they didn’t want him to see them struggling at something that should have been so natural. Somehow, he still believed Morrigan to be a powerful mage, an illusion they didn’t want to shatter anytime soon.

And there was a small part of them, too, that didn’t want to see that detestable look of pity he would no doubt wear when he learned that Morrigan was struggling so much. How close they’d come to entry only to have it ripped away time and time again. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. He would be so crestfallen.

Cirice pulled out some stuff from her bag, surrendering them to Morrigan - their potions. And a small baked good, wrapped in wax paper. Morrigan stared at the proffered sweet as if it was a bomb, distrustful. After all this, was Cirice Lunestre trying to poison them?

… Is this how other people feel when I offer them food and elixirs of dubious origin?

Well, if Cirice Lunestre was trying such an underhanded tactic, she’d messed with the wrong charlatan. Morrigan had been poisoned enough times -by Fish the Sneak more than their own enemies if they were being honest - to know to keep a leech on hand by now for emergencies. With a nonchalant shrug, Morrigan accepted the pastry. “Sure. I could eat.”

It wasn’t poisoned, but it was pretty damned tasty. Infuriatingly so.

Morrigan munched on the sweet, placing their reclaimed potions into their bag when something horrible occurred to them. Their eyes widened as they realized something pretty damn important. “My wagon is still back at the mineshaft!” They yelped, jumping to their feet with as much energy as they could muster.

“I get that… Freedom to do as you like is very nice. I wish you the best.” Cirice responds casually. “Witch of Moonglade, huh…? I’ve heard of her, do you think she’s taking apprentices? She’s famous. She can probably do better than me. Heh. But thanks for saying I’m cute. I don’t have your sense of style.”

“Kvasir dropped everything to go and help me… I think he’d be happy to help you if you asked. With anything. Spending time with people you care about is one of the best things in the world. No matter what you’re doing.”

She sits beside them and shares the muffins with a smile, Morrigan seems a lot more real than they did at first, not wearing a face and a cover, just being more genuine. That’s nice. Then they jump to their feet and exclaim about their wagon.

“Oh! You’re right! Well um your dragon should be waking up soon, they can take you back to get it. Careful, don’t hurt yourself!” She watches them hop around worriedly. “I left your wagon tied so it shouldn’t have gone anywhere. Maybe Cantio found his way back there… OH NO CANTIO WE JUST LEFT HIM!!!! ASTRIDS GOING TO KILL ME!”

“On the contrary, I rather think she’d enjoy a little spark like you.” Morrigan recalled their own meeting with her. The woman had immediately realized they were nothing more than a hack - not necessarily from any kind of keen sharpness but more out of her natural power and connection to the ether that she realized there was something fundamentally wrong with them. But she had a fondness for mischief and mayhem, and took to Morrigan like a fun little plaything. She would certainly love Cirice and whatever kind of crazy, fucked up brain demon occupied her mother moon worshipping brain. Maybe it was Mother Moon herself, whoever the fuck that really was.

“I’m quite good friends with her, actually. She would adore your little dresses and your plucky little go-getter attitude.”

“I don’t know…” He had his own problems, ghosts lingering in the back of his brain. With such a tenuous grip on reality, Morrigan truly wanted to keep him as far away from their scams as possible. It was an odd compulsion. And they weren’t sure where it came from. They simply wanted Kvasir to keep thinking the best of them as possible. “I suppose I just don’t want him to worry. His life is already turbulent enough. He is selfless, yes, but he deserves to be selfish as well. This is my business, not his concern.”

They weren’t sure where those words had even come from - it didn’t truly relate to the conversation at hand, but they were more speaking to themselves than Cirice Lunestre.

“… Now don’t you worry. Kvasir and I take care of plenty of consortium matters together. But we should both have some things to ourself, yes? He has his apothecary, and I have my traveling business…”

Shit.

The Wagon.

CANTIO VON LUMEN!

Morrigan picked up their pace, nearly tripping over their own boot laces, practically racing with Cirice Lunestre to be the first to make sure the wagon, Morrigan’s livelihood - and the minstrel - were both safe and whole back at the mineshaft.

The purple pair race back towards the cart and the dwarf home at each other’s heels. Panting they arrive at the Wagon of Wonders to find Cantio Von Lumen sitting on the front, blinking at them and looking between them and back at the cave.

“Wait… I thought you were…” He starts and Cirice puts a hand up to stop him.

“We were, we left. Its fine. Let’s just go back to your house. Today has been… wild.” She hops back into the wagon without giving Morrigan a chance to argue and the three of them start the trek back to Skypeak Village, picking up the sleeping dragon Bubbles along the way. None of them were worse for the wear after this botched adventure, but both Cirice and Morrigan with new heavy secrets and unsaid words weighing them down.