“Bauteut, are you sure you’re okay with this?” Joan asked.

“I’m fine,” Bauteut said, though she still looked incredibly pale. “You need support, right?”

“You look like you’re going to throw up at any moment,” Joan said softly.

“Would you like me to carry you?” Qakog asked.

Both of them just turned to stare at him, as did Vivian.

“What?” Qakog asked.

“I’ll walk, thank you,” Bauteut said.

“If you want,” Qakog said before a small grin formed on his lips. “Joan, would you--”

“If you even try to pick me up I WILL stab you,” Joan said. She didn’t know what was more concerning. The fact she wasn’t entirely against the idea or the fact he seemed to be considering it. “So, where are we going?” she asked quickly to change the subject.

“Ah, you should appreciate this, Joan,” Vivian said. “There was a reason I chose this city to come to.”

Joan kept her mouth shut, but she felt the answer was pretty obvious. There were really only three large cities, one of them had the queen who wanted her dead, the other held the academy and while there were a few tailors there, most of what you’d find there was more ceremonial. Hearth was a coastal city and kind of the hub to the human lands, it made sense that they’d come here for such things. “Because they sell clothing here?” Joan said.

“Because it’s also the home of Hearth’s Calling,” Vivian said with a light sigh.

“Oh, cool,” Joan said with a shrug. She didn’t know why that mattered.

“I mean, of course they’re the home of Hearth’s Calling,” Bauteut said.

Vivian gave a soft sigh, the smile on her face wavering. Joan felt a small burst of guilt. Was it really that big a deal?

“Uhhhh, what is that?” Qakog asked.

“Fighting company,” Joan said with a shrug.

“What? No they’re not,” Bauteut said.

“Mercenaries then?” Joan said with a shrug.

“Oh dear heavens,” Bauteut said, closing her eyes for a moment.

“Joan? Do you really not know?” Vivian asked.

“Know what?” Joan asked.

“They’re not really a fighting company,” Vivian said. “They’re affiliated with them, but they primarily help with logistics.”

Joan gave a soft sigh and rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. When people in fighting companies aren’t able to fight anymore, they usually join organizations like Hearth’s Calling. They do things like make uniforms, weapons, things like that. I’m not entirely clueless, you know. They’re still more or less mercenaries, just without the fighting part. Mostly.”

“You said they were a fighting company,” Bauteut said.

“I mean, they’re kind of like an honorary one,” Joan said. “A lot of the fighting companies depend on them for supplies and they have contracts with most organizations that I’ve seen. See? I pay attention to things. I just don’t see it as that different. One group stabs things, the other group helps make sure that those stabbing things have good equipment. They all work together in the end. But what does them being here have to do with anything?”

“They also have a tendency to pick up those displaced by the war, teach them a trade and help them get back on their feet,” Vivian said. “Because of that, they have a wide assortment of different styles and have outposts located across all of the kingdoms. I hear they even have some demons in their ranks, though not many. But this is important because they have extended an invitation to the Chosen and all of their comrades to make new armor for them,” Vivian paused for just a moment to let that sink in. “Since you mentioned how much you liked the demonic dresses as well, I felt it might be a good idea to go somewhere you could choose from a wide variety of styles. I’ve already discussed it with them and they’d be more than happy to accommodate anything you desire. As the daughter of a Chosen, of course.”

Joan almost tripped, her eyes going wide. She’d had a very, very passing knowledge of Hearth’s Calling, but hadn’t examined it that closely. Why would she? But it finally sunk in just how much effort her grandmother had put into this trip. Not just making sure they had a nice place to stay, but ensuring they got not just some new clothes, but clothing that fit her wants. On top of that, armor and such for all of them, something that might be useful with the battles going forward. Even as hard pressed as she felt at times to keep going and trying to save the world, she couldn’t come up with a reason to NOT do this. She couldn’t even see it as a possible waste of time in the slightest.

“Joan, are you crying?” Vivan asked, her voice filled with concern.

“N-no,” Joan said quickly, her hands moving to wipe her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” Vivian said in a soft, soothing tone. “We don’t have to go through all of that if you don’t want to. I just thought--”

“It’s perfect,” Joan said quickly, wiping her eyes desperately and trying to stop any tears from falling. “It’s wonderful. S-so wonderful. You’re the best grandmother ever. I don’t… I don’t… I just…”

“What she means is she’s not used to going into such thought for herself, she’s certainly not used to others doing it for her,” Bauteut said. “And she’s very thankful.”

“Yeah, that,” Joan said before finally managing to get herself under control. “The things she said. I-- eep!” Before she could say anything, Vivian had her in a small, gentle hug.

“Oh, you sweet, sweet little thing,” Vivian said, her hand gently petting Joan’s hair. “It’s okay, I understand. You don’t need to say anything else.”

Joan nodded, though she couldn’t help feeling embarrassed. People could see them! Eh, it wasn’t like it mattered. She wasn’t the Hero anymore. Nobody would judge her if she got a hug or care in public. Knowing Bauteut, she’d probably just find it cute. Qakog… maybe he’d stop trying to woo her. Nah. She doubted it. He did way more embarrassing things daily. So instead she just let herself enjoy the moment and her grandmother’s hug and kindness. Let herself be spoiled, just a little bit today.

She couldn’t wait to see what new outfits they’d get.

MelodyAvant

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