Demon King's Gardener

Nevve was not in the smithy – Ferrori and Ivali told him she’d gone to her quarters early due to receiving a guest. It made Jurao concerned – he wouldn’t want to impose, but he supposed he would let his aunt decide if his request was an imposition to her company.

“Hey, brat,” Nevve greeted as she opened the door, arching her left brows, “Something wrong? Thought the Petty Princess and her kids were arriving today.”

“They did arrive,” Jurao confirmed, and shifted his weight, “As did Braelin’s parents. It…” he hummed, then asked, “Would you… tell me stories about my mothers, Auntie.”

He hadn’t called Nevve ‘auntie’ in a long time – centuries, most likely. But he hadn’t missed his mothers in a long time as well – perhaps it made him feel as young as he was then.

Nevve snorted with a smile, “Ah, I see. Well, you came at the right time for that – come on, brat.”

Jurao followed her into her suite, back to the kitchen area.

“Omarri just got in yesterday,” Nevve explained, gesturing to the man at the table, “Look who just came by asking to reminiscence.”

Omarri stood, bowing slightly, “Your highness, good afternoon – I… doubt you remember me, but as Nevve said, I’m Omarri.”

“I do not, but my aunt mentioned you have been keeping a correspondence,” Jurao replied, nodding before taking a seat. Snip settled next to his chair, though Snap was sniffing about the room curiously.

Omarri was a traditional demon with night-black skin and cream-white spots, gray hair pulled into a loose bun. He sat back down, adding, “I’ve… actually come to retire, as it were.”

Nevve snorted, getting a third cup to pour her nephew tea, “Wrote me asking if he should retire here or Engapoylao, and since I’m not traipsing about the mortal realms anymore, I told him it better be here.”

Omarri chuckled, allowing Snap to sniff at one of his hands, “I’d be happy to share stories about Emedao, though – I was another child born into the Mafokuraes Band.”

“Please,” Jurao nodded – he didn’t have as many stories about Emedao, as Nevve had only met her a handful of times in person. He reached down to give Snap a scratch behind the ears as he returned to the King’s side, soon laying down with Snip.

“What to say…” Omarri considered, “I was raised by my great-grandparents in Engapoylao until I was old enough to apprentice in the band, so I only saw Emedao as a child a few times. She always seemed… awkward.”

“Awkward,” Jurao questioned, tilting his head.

Omarri chuckled, “Jeakke used to do that – tilt her head like that, I mean.”

“She did, that’s true,” Nevve nodded, taking her own seat.

“Emedao was the only kid that actually traveled with the band, you see,” Omarri went on, “She only interacted with other kids when visiting Enga or running into another band with kids in it. So she didn’t really know how to act around other kids – for a while, I admit I thought she was stuck-up because of her stand-offish personality as a young adult,” he chuckled nervously, “But then her parents invited Jeakke to join the band.”

“Jeakke was a right ball of sunshine as a kid,” Nevve snorted, “You’d think she’d be awkward, the way she was, but no – she just did whatever the hell she wanted and left me to clean up the mess,” his aunt snorted again, “I miss those days, sometimes. Running around Mesescima, telling off assholes trying to make my sister be less of herself – didn’t matter if it was other kids or my celas, I just wanted Jeakke to be happy.”

“Ah,” Jurao said, “I almost forgot to mention it – Nosu said Vaokis was Beloved of Aeganes.”

Nevve barked a laugh, “Of course she was! Ran off to join the Fighting Guild at least a hundred times before she was actually old enough to get accepted, fought in just about all the mortal realms with a fight available, then came home to fight some more!”

Omarri also laughed, “Emedao was completely starstruck the first time she saw Jeakke fight – it was a proving match against Emedao’s mother, Raoyl, that she… well, she wasn’t supposed to win.”

Nevve scoffed, “Of course not.”

“Watching Emedao try so hard to work up the nerve to talk to Jeakke made a lot of us realize how she wasn’t stuck-up, just awkward,” Omarri said, “She would just follow Jeakke around as Jeakke told some wild story about a fight she’d been in another realm, or the origin of the weapon she was using that day; tail swishing along and face dark as the sky.”

“It was when the band was visiting Caslavven after Jeakke joined up that I told the poor woman she’d have to spell it out for Jeakke,” Nevve sighed.

“I remember that,” Omarri snorted, “What did you say… oh, right: ‘My sister’s first love will always be weapons, her second is using them, and if you want to be her third, you better be as blunt as a cudgel’.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Nevve smiled.

“That it did,” Omarri agreed, “Ah, but watching the two of them fight together was a treat – you’d think they could read each others’ minds with how well they moved as a pair.”

“I saw it once,” Nevve nodded, “During the exhibition matches at their wedding.”

“Your celas was so angry the whole time!” Omarri laughed, “Ce was trying to act like ce was happy because of how prestigious the Mafokuraes family is, but everyone could tell ce hated it!”

“Yeah, I remember,” Nevve laughed as well, “And Raoyl knew too – I knew Jeakke picked the right family when she kept trying to make Lala lose cer temper.”

“I was worried she would succeed and we’d have to fight the Maesculiken clan,” Omarri sighed, “Can you imagine the rumors that would have spread from that?”

“It was only after Jurao was born that Lala really cooled off about the whole thing,” Nevve snorted, “Until it caused more problems...”

“It did,” Jurao asked.

“… he even asks questions like Jeakke,” Omarri mused.

Nevve chuckled, “He sure does, doesn’t he? Get this – his romantic partner never had a problem figuring it out, either.”

“Really?” Omarri asked, “Even Emedao took some time to get the knack for it with Jeakke…”

“I’m sure,” Nevve nodded, “But yeah – when Lala saw you, it was like something in cer cracked, just a little bit. The proud part that needed a crack or two, I mean. Oh, you were cer first grandchild, brat – ce adored you,” then she sighed, “Not enough to suck it up and apologize so I would take you to Mesescima to visit, or to come here, though…”

“Apologize,” Jurao asked, the ache of missing his mothers indeed easing as he listened to their stories. He never asked, since Nevve didn’t seem to enjoy speaking on it, and hadn’t realized how hungry he was to learn more until she started.

“Yeah-” Nevve paused as someone knocked, getting up to answer while muttering, “And who could that be?”

Jurao and Omarri waited as she answered, both able to hear as she did.

“Oh,” Nevve snorted, “Yeah, that figures. Come on, he’s in the back.”

“Thank you,” Braelin replied.

Jurao turned in surprise, asking as his partner entered the kitchen, “Is something wrong.”

“That’s what I came to ask you,” Braelin replied, nodding to Omarri before walking up to Jurao and putting a hand on the King’s arm, “You seemed upset.”

Petal trundled over and patted at Jurao’s arms before slipping itself under his seat and half over Snip – the waste hound giving the crushfern a little lick before resettling.

“Ah,” Jurao’s tail swished, “I… seeing you with your parents made me think of my mothers, is all. I came to ask Aunt Nevve for stories, since I didn’t want to interrupt your reunion.”

“This is my romantic partner, Omarri,” Nevve introduced, “Recently retired from the Mafokuraes Beast Hunter Band. Omarri, this is Braelin, Jurao’s partner.”

“Nice to meet you,” Omarri smiled.

Braelin nodded to him again, “And you as well – would you mind if I joined you?”

“You do not have to,” Jurao insisted, “I’m sure you want more time with your family.”

Braelin hummed, then leaned into Jurao’s side, “I have plenty of time to catch up with them, thanks to you. I wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy their company knowing you’re upset,” he snorted, “I was so distracted they were the ones to tell me to go.”

Jurao felt that familiar bright spot in his chest as he leaned down to kiss his partner’s head before pulling the man into his lap, “Thank you.”

“They’d be so happy, you know,” Omarri smiled softly, “Emedao and Jeakke. To see you with someone you love.”

“They’d be happy he has a best friend, too,” Nevve snorted, “That’s why they named you ‘love’. They wanted you to be surrounded by it – all kinds of it.”

“As many kinds as possible, I think Jeakke said,” Omarri agreed, “It seemed like such an odd name for two warriors to pick for their kid, but in hindsight, it makes perfect sense for the two of them.”

“Love,” Jurao considered – then felt his face start heating up as his tail swished.

“Hm?” Nevve questioned, “Yeah? What about it?”

It was Braelin who cleared his throat, “We’ve never actually said that, have we?”

“No,” Jurao agreed. Though he was encouraged by seeing his partner was also blushing and scratching at his chin.

Nevve started laughing, “No? Well, no need to rush these things!”

“I suppose I did make an assumption,” Omarri chuckled.

“But where was I?” Nevve sighed, “Right – Lala always argued. About me supporting Jeakke, about me going off to learn from other blacksmiths,” she paused to imitate a lower, gruffer voice, “‘What, you think someone has better methods than the best blacksmithing family in the realm? Pah!’” Nevve snorted, returning to her normal speaking voice, “Which of fucking course they do, but point is, after you were born, it all came to head – Jeakke, Lala, and I all had a big blowout fight that led to none of us talking to each other anymore.”

“The one where you wanted her to quit beast hunting to raise me,” Jurao asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Nevve sighed, studying her mug of tea, “Lala didn’t want her to quit but expected her to give you over to the family to be raised as a Maesculiken, which of course actually pissed off the Mafokuraeses – as it should.

“But hey, no need to rehash all that sad shit,” his aunt snorted, “I’m sure Riri has more stories about Jeakke and Emedao’s early courtship to entertain.”

Omarri chuckled, “Oh, plenty…”

They spent the rest of the evening listening to Nevve and Omarri share stories about Jurao’s mothers and other family – from Emedao’s stumbling attempts to court an oblivious Jeakke to Jurao’s drunken uncle attempting to flirt with Raoyl and being gently rebuffed, and Ena’s latest exploits as current head of the band.

Jurao was starting to understand what Feyl and Braelin had meant by his presence being enough to bring comfort to them – just having his partner in his lap as he listened made his melancholy fade all the faster.

“I think you’re the first person not to be surprised I’m human, Omarri,” Braelin remarked as the evening drew to a close.

“Well, humans join the bands from time to time,” Omarri nodded, “And we’ll take anyone who can prove themselves – there’ve been three humans in the Mafokuraes band in my lifetime, and there’s human ancestry in the Mafokuraes line itself.”

“There is,” Jurao asked – most of the Mafokuraeses he’d met were trollish demons like himself, and he did not recall any inspired demons.

“Ena and I talked about it when she was studying to take over,” Omarri nodded, “It wasn’t enough to take in the blood, but there was at least a human or two in your line.”

“Perhaps that is why our sword style only requires two hands,” Jurao considered.

“It very well could be,” Omarri shrugged, “But Ena didn’t mention it.”

“In any case,” Nevve stood with a stretch, “I think it’s about time for us old folks to turn in.”

“Thank you for the stories,” Jurao said, getting to feet and setting his partner down, “Snip, Snap.”

The waste hounds rose – Snap yawning as Snip stretched.

“Anytime, kid,” Nevve snorted, walking them to the door.

“Thank you for having me,” Braelin added, “Good night.”

As they started walking towards their shared suite, Braelin took one of Jurao’s smaller hands in his – and the King was almost certain it was for his comfort, rather than his partner’s.

Love, Jurao thought, tail swaying as they walked, Love, hm…