(Minor CW for post: throwing up mentioned)

What resulted in the next few seconds could only be described as a comedy of errors.

Morrigan’s horn hit Chad in the face with enough force to hurt themselves more than him. Chad plucked them from the air before they could hit the ground, protecting them from incurring more damage in the form of a concussion.

Unfortunately, being spun around like a child’s stuffed toy was too much for the drink already sitting in their stomach. One might think given Morrigan’s experience with liquor, they’d be more tolerant of it - double unfortunate for them, they were rather slight of stature and easily swayed by drink. And in what was probably the cruelest twist of fate, as Chad set them back down in their seat, Morrigan emptied the contents of their stomach into his lap.

Surely, death would be better than this.

As if to drag the knife deeper into the wound, the enchantment tied to their gilded earring told Morrigan exactly what other people were whispering about them.^[1] In the distance, their waitress turned to say to one of their friends, “It’s just like the day they met! It must be fate!”

“More like the other one is a drunken mess…” Her friend snickered.

Morrigan wiped a bit of vomit from the side of their mouth, grimacing.

“Are you kidding me? Entire stories have been written about how grand gestures are the pinnacle of romance!” They returned back with as much fervor as they could muster given the humiliation they’d endured this night. “Serenading your beau is one of the classic ways to show your care and affection.”

They fell silent as Chad described what love meant.

Well, that was just weak. Those were all things Morrigan had done for Kvasir in the past, no? Buying him necklaces with rose adornments because the floral arrangements suited him well, remembering little details about himself when his memory was bad… they’d never scratched him behind the ears, though that was mostly because they couldn’t reach the top of his head from the height difference. The point being, those were all just things that people who considered themselves friends did for one another. Romantic love, it… it had to be different!

“Well, that can’t be love. Those are just the things that you do for friends.” Morrigan replied, wrinkling their nose. “Now… will you let me sing to you to sell this… charade?”

At that moment the waitress walked by and gave them a knowing smile. Morrigan raised their hand. “Could you get me some water… oh, she’s gone.”

---

1. Earring of Secrets

Yasei just stared down at Stacey for a moment with a face that silently but undeniably said "No." He held them in place at his side, making sure they wouldn't jump up on the table and try that stunt again. It already ended really bad the first time, judging from the vomit down the front of Yasei's robe. At least they hadn't gotten any food yet, so it was mostly just alcohol they'd spewed back up.

_{"You really don't know what love is at all, huh?"} Yasei sighed under his breath, not even trying to make sure Stacey heard him. _{"Isn't your partner supposed to be your best friend?"} He continued whispering as he shook his head.

This weirdo probably wouldn't know what love was if it hit them in the head. He knew for a fact he'd loved Hana and she loved him, and those were some of the ways they expressed it to each other. He would have had a way better time drinking at this bar if he was with Hana instead of this stranger, getting puked on and hit in the forehead. This night was going terribly.

"We're going to the bathroom to wash this off." Yasei told Stacey before he stood up with the purple Fellblood held under his arm and scooted sideways out of the booth.

He put a smile back on, trying not to give away his annoyance with the situation. Being puked on wasn't that strange. Drinking parties could end like that easily, and it had happened to him more than a few times before now. But this... He just felt like this was all wrong. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to pretending to be in love while he was still not over his loss. He thought he was fine, but he was realizing he wasn't.

He walked into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him just as tears began to flow from his eyes. He loosened his grip on Stacey and let them get to their feet before he began to wipe his eyes with his hands, not even caring about the stain on the front of his robe. He slid down onto the ground, his back against the door.

Did the nature of love count as a secret? For someone as emotionally disconnected as Morrigan Moonweaver, who’d never known love if it shot them in the face with the force of Cupid’s Arrow, it might as well have been as nebulous and unknowable as the universe. Theological questions aside, it was the enchantment on Morrigan’s earring that allowed Morrigan to sort-of catch what Yasei was lamenting about.^[1] Theological questions aside, Morrigan’s indignance was only left to melt away to confusion. Love and friendship were mutually exclusive concepts... right?

Well. If you’d asked them a year ago this time, the charlatan would have insisted they didn’t have friends. They had connections, people they manipulated into doing their will. And yet. It was a humbling experience to learn that loyalty meant something – that somewhere along the line the people that Morrigan met people that meant something more to them than coin… that there were certain people that Morrigan would do anything for regardless of their own personal gain. Madam Issala Arodre came to mind. She’d called Morrigan her ‘Bestie’ several times. But Morrigan wasn’t in love with her.

And then there was Kvasir…

What was it Morrigan did when they learned about the god that had taken root in Kvasir’s mind, set to erase all aspects of his person? The smart thing would have been for them to run, cut their losses, and go back to Zeinav where it was safe for them to continue on their business without the threat of a ghost king hanging over their shoulders, scarred where the purity bolt had pierced their skin. Yet, they’d stayed. They’d compiled stories, wrote legends. If Kvasir was content to allow himself to fade away into mediocrity, against all rationality, Morrigan had promised they would sink their claws into what they could, and they would make sure he was remembered. Kvasir’s light was too bright to be snuffed out by the leech bastard hanging onto him.

Grand gestures. Funny, that was exactly what Morrigan asserted was part of love-

Perhaps they would have been on the verge of self-actualization, if it weren’t for the fresh wave of nausea that struck them at that moment. In the bathroom, music pounding outside like a stuttering heartbeat in the back of their skull, Morrigan leaned against the wall, letting the wave pass. This sucked. Morrigan had been so certain that nothing could go wrong with a little scheme, a tiny little scam for free drinks. And yet, here they were, drunk and sick and miserable. How could they be surrounded by the most glamorous surroundings, the finest food and drinks and music, and wish they were back in their room at the Desert Rose instead?

They pulled a waterskin from their potion pouch, pouring water messily into their mouth. It was enough to perk them up. At least that was one thing they were familiar with – putting on a smile and carrying on with the show. They could finish this night and return home and forget they’d made an ass of themselves in front of a tavern full of strangers.

Only, as they pulled the door open, Morrigan found Chad curled up against it.

They blinked, sluggish. Still slowed by inebriation, it took the fellblood a moment to process what they were seeing. “Is everything okay? Don’t tell me you’re sick, too.” They wrinkled their nose. “I don’t think you drank enough for alcohol poisoning… but if it is, I might have something in my wagon to treat it. We gotta… keep our minds sharp if we want to get back in the game.”

---

1. Earring of Secrets

"Huh?"

Yasei looked up slightly, his attention now on Stacey. There were still tears streaming down his face until they were lost in the bushy mane around his neck and chin. He didn't stand or move from his spot on the ground, keeping his back against the door and completely blocking it from being opened. He gave his head a slight shake.

"No, I'm not sick. Not enough booze in this place to give me alcohol poisoning. I just-" Yasei spoke, his words punctuated with sad sniffles. "I miss my wiiiiiife!"

Yasei burst into full on tears, loudly bawling his eyes out. He grabbed Stacey and pulled them into a hug on the ground and burying their face in now wet, tear-filled fluff. They crushed the wind out of Stacey's lungs as they tried to squeeze whatever comfort they could get out of their fake partner for the evening, but the comfort was as scant as the pitiable amount of alcohol they'd managed to get out of this act so far.

"Hanah...." Yasei quietly moped to himself, thinking of his long gone love, the only one he'd ever had. Unlike this farce, they were perfect together, and now he'd never see her again. They were supposed to grow old together, and she had been left alone to do that without him while he was a stone statue in some castle courtyard. They were supposed to raise their daughter together.

What was he supposed to do now? What was he doing? Pretending to be in a relationship with some stranger to help him forget all this.

Yasei released Stacey from the bone-crushing hug and blew his nose on the first bit of fabric he could find within reach, which happened to be Stacey's robe, before standing up. He brushed himself off a little, trying to look like just a little bit less of a mess.

"Ah, this was a bad idea. I should go." He said to Stacey before turning around, opening the bathroom door, and walking away. He stopped for a moment and looked back before shouting in stilted Common with his obvious Crescent Islander accent- "Uh, I'm breaking down with you, Stacey! We're... Ah, over!" -And then he ran out the door before any of the staff could notice how bad his acting skills or his Common language were. On the way out, he grabbed off of someone else's table a pitcher of what looked like some kind of spiked tea. He didn't know, but he just hoped it had some booze.

The entire room was silent for a moment as they watched the giant Koma-Inu make his getaway before all eyes turned toward the bathroom door, and Stacey.

Something akin to fine Crystal seemed to shimmer in Chad’s fur; Morrigan was so woefully unfamiliar with the sight of such emotion that it took them an embarrassingly long moment to identify what the problem was. What in the world could he have to cry about when they were in the holy grail of free food and drink, all without any of the emotional labor of being in an actual relationship? And if it wasn’t alcohol poisoning… what the heck was it?

Before Morrigan could ask what the problem was – only in part because they were concerned, but also because of your head wasn’t in the game you could easily be caught in the middle of the scam – Chad had burst into tears, plucking Morrigan from the air and wrapping them in a hug that threatened to crush their bones into a fine, glittery powder. Once more the air was knocked out of their lungs, and Morrigan let out a pained wheeze that sounded an awful lot like a dog’s squeaky toy.

“SMQCNSKEQJCEBWXJE.” They tried to say, but given that their visage was currently pressed into Chad’s fur, they couldn’t exactly articulate well. Or breathe. All they could do was tap their hand against his back, a silent plea to release him from their prison. Alas, it was likely only perceived as an encouraging pat on the back that might prompt Chad to squeeze harder.

This was hell.

After what felt like an eternity and a half, Chad finally released Morrigan, though the damages had already been done. They were covered in tears and snot where Chad had been blubbering all over them, shed fur clinging to their already-ruined silks. Honestly, they couldn’t even bring themselves to be all too upset about it. Taken in its totality they’d already lost more money on their own ruined clothing than they’d made up for in drinks, so the damage had already been done. That was alright. You can’t win every scam, and you lose one hundred percent of the schemes you don’t take. Besides, this could be the perfect opportunity for Morrigan to capitalize on. With Chad so inebriated and weepy, it would be perfect for them to paint the picture of a couple so in love that they couldn’t contain their emotions –

Oh, look at that. Chad was leaving. Yep, he just stole someone’s pitcher of tea.

“What? Oh, come on!” Morrigan bemoaned as their only money ticket dashed away like the devil was on his heels. What were they supposed to do now? Duplicate themselves and dress the second Morrigan up in a costume to get drinks? Even more mortifying was that, as the door slammed behind the large man, the tavern had practically fallen silent at that spectacle. And then all eyes were on Morrigan; and not in the cool fun way they liked.

Oh, fuck. They had to salvage this.

It was a good thing Morrigan could cry on command.

(With the little help of a little bit of irritant poison coated on their hands that made just enough sting for the tears to fall.)

Within seconds Morrigan’s mascara was streaming down their face as they sobbed, pointing at the door. “Did you see that? We’ve been dating for seven years and all along he had a SECOND FAMILY HE DIDN’T TELL ME ABOUT! I WAS GOING TO MARRY HIM ONE DAY!”

That was enough to get Morrigan some sympathy points. One of the servers patted Morrigan sympathetically on the back, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “Oh, I’m sorry honey. Men ain’t shit sometimes, aren’t they?”

Morrigan gave an exaggerated sniffle and nodded. “I thought he was the one, and all along… I WAS JUST THE OTHER WOMAN!”

The waitress just sighed and dragged Morrigan to the back of the bar to get them some chocolate and some water and let them cry out the rest of their emotions. A few other patrons even pitied them enough to buy them some food. At least the theatrics were good for something. Even if it meant this tavern would be telling the story about ‘Stacey’s’ breakdown for months to come.