La’ming knew something was up when she spotted Koko returning to camp via one of the goat-trails less travelled. Even at a distance, her Elf eyes could see he wasn’t in the greatest shape. Half his braids had come loose and into frizz-balls, making him look like an asymmetrical poodle. The semi-fancy clothes he’d worn out for an evening’s carouse was askew at best and used for improvised medical aid at worst.

He was using his best shirt as a sling.

La’ming gathered some of her better healing herbs and simples as she kept an eye on Koko’s progress. He was a proud kid. He’d only accept help dragging his ass home if he couldn’t do it himself. Thank the gods that Lulu was off on a different mission in a different place with Mak’arune to keep her from setting the entire city on fire.

Next was pretending not to be ready for all of this shit and surprised by his attempted stealthy approach. Late eighties-age Elves were all the same. Ego, ego, ego.

She dropped her pretense at mending when he came into the circle of light cast by her lantern. “Koko! I thought you were out having a night off. Are you hurt?”

He rolled a one on his deception check, not quite straightening up and pretending this was a new look. “No,” he said. “I’m fine…” He attempted to stride and came up short, stifling a grunt of pain.

She couldn’t let this pass. One of her babies was hurting. She got up and cupped his face in her hands Gently, of course. “So why are there bruises all over your face?”

Now his trembling ears drooped. Now he let himself shake a little more. Now he let on that he wasn’t as fighting fine as he was pretending. Yet he still had to fake at being a big man. “Little disagreement. Nothing to be fussed over.”

She scooped him up and let him sit on the step, getting some simples and salves that she ‘just happened’ to have ready on the little shelves by the door. Bandages. Lint. Splints. Enough to hold him until the camp Cleric came back from doing their thing. 

“So what was the disagreement, then?”

“I told a dude he was pretty cute and I was available if he wanted and he told me he wasn’t into dudes. With his fists. And five of his friends.”

“Oooch. Yeah, that’d do it.”

“Mmmh.”

She palpated the arm. Yeah. That was a fracture. Not a bad break that had to be reset, thank the gods. Salve. Splint. Winding bandages around his arm. Tight enough to secure but not too tight. “I’m guessing there was some pretty strenuous debate.”

“I would’a had ‘em if that sixth guy hadn’t stepped in with a fucking chair.”

Ow. The desire for vengeance was rising. She’d have to settle for bilking them for everything they had. Later. The fight now was to not cry. Proper sling. See to the cuts and bruises and clean him up in the process. “Then they showed you where they thought you’d have a better time.”

“Pigsty. Yeah. Good thing I bounce, huh?”

She couldn’t take it any more. She dragged him into his arms and wept into his shoulder. “Don’t scare your mom like that, okay? Get out first thing, then see about settling your opinions at a safe distance.”

Slightly whining, “Aw, mo-o-om… it wasn’t that bad…”

“You got hurt,” she sniffled. “Yes it was.”

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 5]

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They’d only been passing through. The town was large enough for an overnight stay, but not big enough to fund a week’s performance. Those who had more portable acts were free to gather what coin they had as the wagons trundled through. Which was why the twins were away from each other when the fire happened.

Lulu didn’t do it, for the record. The old tinker Mad Darmigan made a fatal and effective mistake with his collection of black powder. After that, all the other fireworks in his workshop made everything more complicated for everyone else.

La’ming left the caravan, taking one of the horses, riding pell-mell for where she knew Koko was cooking up a storm from whatever the crowds had to offer. Dry thatch and crumbling wattle-and-daub caught like tinder, and it was an inferno by the time she leaned in the saddle to scoop up Koko in one arm.

She tried to find Lulu. She really did.

The fires were too hot. Upper stories were falling into the streets. The only choice was to flee. Save what she could. La’ming kept a guarding arm around Koko’s eyes and let the horse run until it could run no more.

“Lulu? Where’s Lulu?”

She stood in the saddle, trying to find any sign of life in the inferno that had once been a sleepy little mountain town. Trying to see any activity at all in any of the multiple paths out of that town.

She could only see fire, but shielded her heart-son’s eyes anyway.

Despite his ninety-some years, he was starting to cry. “Where’s Lulu? You haven’t said. Where’s Lulu? Is she okay?”

She sat back down and held him close. “I can’t see her. We know where the circus was headed, though. We can make our way there. We’ll know then.”

He tried to put on a brave face. “Well shit. We better get there before Lulu burns it down as we–” his voice cracked. Stopped working.

La’ming let him be weak. She could be strong for him tonight. She could keep the horse walking tonight. They could sleep and rest tomorrow. Pick up all their shattered pieces then.

*

Someone scooped her out of the market square on one of the circus draught horses. Indeed, the poor creature was still dragging their caravan behind it. Mak’arune was at the reins, urging the massive beast on.

Lulu, now sprawled across her lap, didn’t even have time to complain before whistling bursts of colour ignited the surrounding buildings and turned the whole street into the Plane of Fire. She untangled herself quick. “KOKO! Mak’arune, we gotta find my bro!”

Mak’arune held her down with Bigby’s Hand. “I’m looking for him, love, but we’re getting out of here on the way. I’m sorry. There’s no time.”

A burning piece of debris spurred on the horse where the reins would not. pitching them both back in the seat.

There was no sign of Koko anywhere. Just lots of people in a panic.

They were headed to the ford, likely to splash up water and put out any cinders. “No, wait, the ford’s flood–”

Mak’arune wasn’t listening and neither was the horse. They nearly got washed downstream from the rushing water and then, because the horse was still in a panic, nearly tipped off the side of several cliffside curves.

Finally, a combination of exhaustion and decent brakes got them slowed to a walk.

Lulu was up on top of the caravan, shouting for her brother in instants. Smoke had made her voice rough, and she couldn’t call for him more than a few times. The caravan came to a halt in a green field, and Mak’arune clambered up to hold her.

She hadn’t even been aware she was crying until Mak’arune had her in a soothing grasp. Her knees went out and she felt weaker than ever.

“We’ll find him. If we don’t, we’ll find out what happened.”

“I didn’t do it,” she found herself sobbing. “I was just playing music…”

“I know, I know,” Mak’arune cooed. “Ssh… I know, I know.”

“I’m supposed t’ look after ‘im… Thought ‘e’d be okay…”

“I know. We all did. You two are almost adults…” she didn’t say, you keep telling us. Tonight was not a night for the blame game. “We’ll find him when we find the rest of the circus. It’s going to be okay.”

Lulu didn’t want to run an Insight Check that, even though she could hear how badly Mak’arune was at lying. Just for tonight. Let lies be truth. Let the strong be weak.

Tomorrow… Tomorrow, they could start over. Tomorrow, they could pick up the pieces. Tomorrow… she could look for the other half of her heart.

There was something odd about Felman Hollo. Mak’arune couldn’t quite put her finger on it for some time. Then she noticed the man making sweet with Lulu just a minute after he’d smooched Koko farewell.

She dithered about it, wondering if it was better that he made the twins happy, or if he didn’t know he was talking to twins, or… or if he was playing with them both. That was the thing that got her confronting him about his life choices.

“I certainly hope you’re not taking any advantages, Master Hollo,” she began.

“Mister,” he corrected, signalling himself as a man of age making sweet with underage kids. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The twins have been through enough in their lives,” she said, giving him the benefit of the doubt for now. “They don’t need a heartbreak before they come of age.” There. That should be enough information for the intelligent sort.

His forged picture of innocence was completely missed by Mak’arune’s Insight Check. “Twins? I had no idea there were twins… How do you tell them apart?”

Not a word about the maturity gap… Odd. Perhaps he was tackling one problem at the time, though something was amiss about his priorities. “You’ve spent enough time looking into their eyes, I would think.”

He laughed, “More like staring at their assets,” he laughed. “Don’t pretend you haven’t. They’re both gorgeous.”

Euw. Gross. “Do us all a favour and let them down gently. You’ve plainly made a mistake in assuming they’re adults and–”

“There’s no mistake in aiming to be their first,” he said. “It’s an experience they’ll remember for the rest of their lives…”

Double gross! At this point, Mr Pithon, La’ming, and several other circus people stepped out from their places amongst the scenery. Mr Pithon loomed to slightly over eight feet tall while the others cracked their knuckles and made ready with improvised weapons.

Mr Kustaad Paafae made a show of his Orb of Recall. “…no mistake in aiming to be their first,” said the tiny image of Felman Hollo within it. “It’s an experience they’ll remember…” he shut it off.

La’ming had her wand out. “Now before you claim this was all a joke… I cast Zone of Truth!” She actually cast Prestidigitation, since she didn’t have that cantrip, but Hollo would experience a tingle as the sparks flew over him.

He didn’t run an Insight Check. “You want the truth? They look like some pretty sweet ass. I’m gonna be the first one they have and take ‘em for everything they can give, and you can’t stop me!” He pulled out a medallion. “Faerun Intelligence Bureau. I tell the Watch what to do.”

There was a moment of intense silence.

“Not when there’s clear evidence of misconduct,” said La’ming, gesturing to the Orb. “Attacking you might be illegal, but filming you on duty isn’t. Neither is showing local authorities the footage.”

“I can have it transcribed to a scroll in a jiffy,” said Mr Paafae. “My wife has Duplicate. I’m sure you know what that means.”

“I can pay you…”

“Never enough,” said Borstok. “Never. Ever. Enough.”

Mak’arune remembered that she had Shocking Touch, and let sparks of lightning play between her fingertips as a warning.

Hollo ran. He did not return.

Mr Pithon relaxed down to a more comfortable six feet in height. “Miss Mak’arune? Ms Ton? I trust you know this means you’re on mop-up duty.”

“We were going to do it anyway,” said La’ming. “They’re my babies.”

“And I’m rather fond of them,” added Mak’arune. The twins would realise in maybe three more days. Plenty enough time to seed their love-addled minds with hints of the bad news.

Maybe even get them to realise they’d nearly been had.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 8]

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Even the twins, fantastic at digging up dirt, couldn’t find anything wrong with Beige Blandish. No skeletons in the closet, no dark secrets. No hideous family lurking in the wings. No racism, no biases, no assumptions, no profiling, no hurtful vices.

Also, nothing interesting about him. His hobby was making miniature flowers out of pencil shavings. He coloured them with watercolours. He was a chartered accountant.[1] He was perfectly nice. Which was pretty much all that could be said about him.

Put together, a man like Beige Blandish was a nil-all win. Everyone agreed that the twins needed someone to temper their reckless spirits - except the twins. Having a decent male role model might even help them out a bit.

Which was why Mak’arune was crying. She told herself that it was natural to cry at weddings. People did it all the time. She could do all this, arranging the venue, the flowers, the dress… because she was very fond of Ms La’ming Ton and would do literally anything to see her happy.

Koko was ring-bearer, walking in pace beside Blandish and looking like he’d rather be spitting rats at a target than there in his powder-blue suit.

Mak’arune covered her tearful gibbering with both hands as La’ming entered. Every inch a Sea Elf. Her dress was in ocean tones with highlights of sea-foam and it looked like the tide was swelling and ebbing with her every step. Pearls and mother-of pearl bedecked her blood-red hair, her ears, her neck, her waist and her wrists. Her bouquet looked like it could have been plucked from an octopus’ garden despite coming from land-based plants.

Beside her, Lulu was in powder pink, scattering petals in a picture of grace only spoiled by the expression on her face. She, too, would much rather be spitting rats than right there and then in this circumstance.

You can’t always get what you want…

She kept telling herself that. She kept telling the twins that. She kept telling anyone who would listen those exact words.

But if you try sometimes, you get what you need.

La’ming needed this. She needed stability. She needed someone staid and sensible who could balance a chequebook without thinking and be reliable and sensible and reasonable and sensible and…

Mak’arune held her breath through the reason for impediment, with the twins glaring at her and making subtle do something! expressions at her. Just for a tiny moment…

…La’ming looked over her shoulder towards her best friend.

But no words were said.

The marriage lasted four years. Four dull, boring, dependable, sensible and reliable years in which Beige Blandish was perfectly nice. Very little else but nice. Even their break up was amicable and without tears. Beige Blandish remained a friend of that odd little family for the rest of his days.

La’Ming’s second marriage, on the other hand…

Mak’arune watched the woman in the mirror as Taako slotted a few final flowers and feathers into her hair. There were no tears this time. No terror, no trepidation, no uneasy creeping cold-vomit sensation crawling up her spine…

“Perfect,” Taako announced. “I couldn’t ask for a better mom.”

Mak’arune turned away from her reflection. “I look like a fashion model ready for the runway.”

“You look amazing,” he reassured. Very carefully, he smeared her lips with a single red berry. For the sweetness to come, according to Elven tradition.

The doors opened. Taako buckled on his shield and drew his sword, leaving an elbow free for her hand.

There she was. Ocean and sea-spray and pearls. Lup at her side with shield and sword as a very ferocious Honour Guard. They were only a hundred and one, the poor dears. Young enough to take their newfound adulthood tremendously seriously. The dress had sparkles of tiny diamantes on it, this time, because it was bad luck to walk down the aisle twice in exactly the same dress.

Mak’arune didn’t keep the staid and steady pace for long. Neither did La’ming. Her ocean dress became a tidal wave of hugs that met her lunar forest in a laughing crash.

The twins only slightly spoiled things with their victory dance and chants of, here we go, here we go, here we go… But everyone who loved the four of them laughed and applauded.

This is the best thing that has ever happened to me…

This was it. This was right. Mak’arune said the words without thinking a whit about them, and it looked like La’ming did exactly the same.

I love you, I need you, I need it, I love… you…

That kiss was the best one worth waiting for, and Lup showered them both with rose petals despite being too old to be the flower girl any more.

Half the circus erupted in cheers and hoots. More than half of them supplied displays of magical fireworks in celebration.

This one? This one was going to stick.

[1] This is not to say that accountantcy is a position naturally lending a worker in it dull and uninteresting. It is to say that it takes a special kind of person to be very interested in tax law throughout history. Or at all.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]

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She told herself it was butterflies. It was natural for a bride to be nervous. She felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest as she approached the mirror.

Mak’arune didn’t like this dress, but her intended did. She thought it made her pale skin look sallow, and it showed far too much flesh. It was bedecked with too much lace and embroidery, and she was certain that the sigils on her corset meant something… icky…

But he was a good businessman, and he said she was a lady of inherent quality. It was only natural that a gentleman of good fortune and standing would be in want of a wife… and yet…

She’d left something behind…

There was something she was forgetting. Something she was sure she’d left undone. It was why he’d hired seven maidens to see to everything. To reassure her.

She’d heard rumours about his former brides…

Shoes. Stockings. Underpinnings. Overpinnings. The dress, of course, the dress.

It made her feel nauseated to look at it…

The maidens adjusted the flowers and one of them coached her in her breathing and two stood ready by her elbows in case her knees turned to jelly or she felt faint.

It’s natural. It’s only nerves. It’s perfectly–

It isn’t perfect! It isn’t natural! Something’s wrong! RUN!

Tears pricked her eyes and her breath wouldn’t slow down and her whole body shook as they opened up the door and she wanted to get away from here so badly but she promised. She promised, and she always kept her promises.

Mak couldn’t remember the event, but he said she promised, and the maidens agreed, and she’d been so scatterbrained of late, she’d forget her own hea–

None of her friends were here! They were invited, she’d made sure!

He looked resplendent in his suit. Brocade vest the colour of dried blood. Suitcoat and pants darker than a tomb. His shirt was as pale as a shroud and he–

–looked worse than a corpse come for dinner…

–he was smiling at the sight of her. Matching her pace as tradition decreed, surrounded by seven groomsmen who leaked dark ichor matched his measured pace as his Honour Guard.

Something… was very wrong! …happened…

The violinist in the atrium changed pace to something lively and definitely not chamber music.

Dah dum datumtum daddledumdum daddle-diddle-daddle-daddle dah-dum…

The stained glass of the temple burst inwards but it sounded like splintering wood and figures burst in from all directions and someone yelled, “Dispell magic!”

The groom before her was dressed in the same clothes, but he was barely humanoid. A beast’s skull barely wrapped in dripping flesh opened a maw full of too many teeth and roared.

The twins pulled her away from the animated corpses, Lulu still holding the violin she had used to give the signal, Koko firing Magic Missiles behind him.

“Is that La’ming swinging on a rope?” Mak’arune wondered.

“Yeah, the whole gang’s here,” said Lulu. She’d stowed her violin and had a small knife that she was using on the strings of the corset. “Gotta get this dress off you before it drains your life, babe.”

Koko had something large and voluminous. “I got mom’s muumuu for a replacement. Guaranteed unspelled.”

The corset had horrible runes on it. Vile, dark magic. So did the stitching on her dress. So did her exposed skin. She wasn’t a bride. She was a sacrifice.

Fortunately, the rest of the circus was making short work of that fiend. Good for them. Now that the spell was broken and her mind was clear, now that she was scrubbing her body clean with her own spit and tears, there was one thing she had to do.

She stepped back into the sepulchre that she had once thought was a church, raised her hand at the fiend and said, “Abra-ca-fuck you!” and cast Sacred Flame at him.

Now she was free to collapse in a gibbering heap.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]

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[AN: Big thanks to @dualityandsuch for getting me into the Hamilton Soundtrack which has heavily inspired parts of this effort. Also, my mind has been everywhere today, so apologies if this turns up tomorrow. I got a weird day]

The first La’ming knew about Mak’arune having a Luume episode was what she initially thought of as her babies horsing around. They were apparently playing a variant of tag with someone else in the circus camp.

They swung around her caravan to where she was busy with the laundry and cheered, “YES!” One ducked back to wave and chirp, “Yoo-hoo! Here we are! This way!” Then the other dragged the first away and up to their favourite hiding spot on the roof of the caravan.

La’ming had enough time to say, “What are you two–” before she got a far more distracting interruption.

“Babies… come ba-a-ack…” Mak’arune rounded the caravan and met eyes with La’ming. “Preeeeeettyyyyyyyy…”

La’ming knew the symptoms instantly. Flushed face. Dilated pupils. An easy, slightly drunken smile and a marginally unsteady gait. That, and Mak’arune smelled very, very nice.

Slightly worrying was the fact that she was wearing a very flattering red dress that normal-Mak’arune didn’t feel bold enough to wear. It showed off all her best aspects and put more colour into her Moon Elf pallor.

Gods, show me how to say no to this…

The on-again, off-again Thing between her and Mak’arune was so well known that it inspired multiple attempts to get the two to admit it, several thousand camp jokes, and at least one raunchy song with the refrain, “Waiting for the day…” Mak’arune deep in Luume might prove too much for her tentative willpower.

I don’t know how to say no to this…

Her eyes were deep and dark and La’ming could get lost in them if she wanted to and she smelled of crisp linens and a cool, fresh stream and that rosin she always used when she threaded her needles and…

Oh gods, I feel so helpless…

“Want,” cooed Mak’arune. “Want you so much. You’re so pretty. Wanna touch. Wanna hug. Wanna make feel nice…”

So very tempting. La’ming forgot about the laundry. Forgot about the twins whispering with each other on the rooftop. Forgot that she was soaking wet and wearing the ugliest dress in the world. Forgot, entirely, that she wanted their eventual meeting to be something magical.

How can I say no to this?

Her lips were sweet, soft, and warm. Bliss and balm and comfortable - so comfortable. The soft swell of her purr kicked up as La’ming purred back and for a moment - just a moment - she nearly dove into temptation.

Then she reached up and found the pressure points that told Mak’arune’s drives to go away, that now was not the time, and an inconvenience at best.

She spasmed like she’d been hit with a bucket of cold water, then fell limp into La’ming’s arms.

“Okay, you two little shits. You’re setting up the big hammock and then we’re all minding her.”

The twins, previously anticipating some fucking closure, grumbled about it.

“Or I tell Mak’arune how you set this up so she can lecture you about it.”

Now they hurried to comply.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 10]

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[AN: We got into a discussion about La’ming and Garfield and then this happened]

[That Sexy Garfield Cosplayer has a lot to answer for]

It was the largest building in the world. The shocking part was that it was a business-place for one business. Inside was a huge warehouse that held wonders from all around the world. It promised discounts, bargains, and dreams come true if one read the marquee.

The inside seemed to be dimensionally transcendent. People from all walks of life could just come in and buy entire crate-loads of whatever they wanted.

The circus fucking loved it.

Koko couldn’t believe it. They had all kinds of magical shit just lying around in baskets, tubs, and bins, as well as sitting around on the shelves.

“I’m gonna steal one of every-fucking-thing in here,” he whispered.

“I WOULDN’T TRY THAT, SWEETHEART. THE ANTI-THEFT CURSES ARE TERRIBLE!”

The twins jumped and shrieked. Floating just behind them was the terrifying figure of a large-ish ginger Tabaxi in a moon-and-star-patterned robe. He had a nametag that introduced him to the literate as Garfield.

La’ming, still biologically compelled to care for their welfare, wrapped one up in each arm and issued a warning growl at him.

“JUST A FRIENDLY WARNING, MADAM. THE AISLES OF THE FANTASY COSTCO ARE RIDDLED WITH THEIR OWN KIND OF PERIL. WE HAVE STRICT ANTI-SHOPLIFTING WARDS AND ANY UNATTENDED CHILDREN WILL BE EMPLOYED.” After a moment’s thought, the Tabaxi added. “FOR ANY FURTHER ENQUIRIES, I SHALL BE AT YOUR BECK AND CALL. HAVE A GOOD DAY.”

They hustled away from the Tabaxi, feeling like they had just escaped an eldritch horror. La’ming quickly distracted the twins with the variety of choice available to anyone with the money or the vouchers. This place had _everything_. Bags of Holding in assorted colours. Pocket tents, pocket workshops, pocket laboratories. Portable holes, portable doors, portable underground connections…

Koko fell in love with the pocket spa. Based on the same principal as the pocket tent, this one promised all one’s relaxation needs including refreshments and a golem for massages. It boasted the ability to hold and sustain two medium-sized creatures when compact and up to six when unfurled.

His for only… way more than he could afford. Ever. In his life. Even if he went straight and kept the bail fund overflowing… he’d never have one.

Koko contemplated ways he could scratch it or dirty it up so he’d get a discount without breaking it completely.

“FIND SOMETHING YOU LIKE, SWEETIE?”

“Could you not do that?”

“I ONLY KNOW ONE WAY TO APPEAR, HANDSOME. PERHAPS YOU’D LIKE TO MAKE A DEEEEEEEEAAAALLLLL…”

It was the way he was salivating on the word ‘deal’ that almost scared Koko’s pants brown. “You win the intimidation check hombre. Truth is, I ain’t got the money for this and probs never will. So unless there’s someone I could fuck for this…”

“FRATERNISING WITH THE CUSTOMERS VIOLATES COMPANY RULES, GORGEOUS.”

Oh thank the gods. “Maybe we could play a game,” he looked around. “What’s that green table for?”

“THAT’S A POOL TABLE, SON. HAVEN’T YOU EVER PLAYED POOL BEFORE?”

“No,” Koko lied. “Maybe you could show me how to play and then best out of five wins?”

He was drooling again. “AND WHAT DO I WIN WHEN YOU LOOSE, HMMMM?”

“You can gimme a haircut and keep the hair.” Roughly equivalent worth, really, and harmless enough to not cause much trouble down the line.”

*
Two hours later, Koko caught up with his family. He had the pocket spa, Garfield’s Shoes of Floatation, and the nifty dollar-sign pendant he’d been wearing.

“Where were you?” said La’ming, who had found the costumes section. “I was starting to worry.”

Translation: She was worried and working on her last nerve trying not to outright panic.

“Playin’ some pool with the big cat,” said Koko. “Got some neat stuff.”

La’ming, wearing a really cheap imitation of Garfield’s robe over her clothes, squealed in delight and borrowed the pendant. She put on some tiger-print platforms, a pair of kitty mittens and a humorous cat mask as well. “HoW dO i LoOk, DaRlInG?” she said, mocking Garfield’s voice. “Is It WoRtH a DeEeEeEaAaAlLlL?”

She was hilarious.

Garfield was not impressed. Especially when Lulu attempted to hustle him at pool for the outfit.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]

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Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ - Chapter 16 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter: Taako and Lup meet some old friends from before the Stolen Century. Sort of.

Love, they say, is strange. It certainly isn’t logical, and the road to the best and longest-lasting loves is long, winding, and full of potholes. Lulu and Koko were pondering this as they shared a pipe, well out of anyone’s view.

“We know they’re in love,” said Koko, circling the distant figures of La’ming, their mother figure by Luume-adoption, and Mak’arune, famously repressed costume nerd. They were currently in the centre of the circus campground, standing five feet apart so that no-one would ‘accidentally’ bump them into each other. “Everyone in the circus knows they’re in love. Hell, even Borstok clued into it.” Puff. “So why don’t they?”

Lulu took the pipe out of his fingers and inhaled deeply. She blew the dandelion smoke out of her nostrils. “It’s been like a decade or something. I wanna be a flower girl at their wedding, not an Honour Guard.”

Koko was smiling. “Lulu? I have had a genius idea.”

“More genius than locking them in a trailer together for the night? Or sending one of them to fetch the other while they were skinny-dipping? Or pretending the seasonal sniffles was a curse that could only be cured by true loves’ kiss?”

“It was better than getting them drunk and hoping for the best,” sniped Koko. “Or sliding rings on their fingers when they passed out and lying our asses off about them being married already. Or trying to get Mak’arune to keep La’ming warm after ‘someone’ misfired a frost curse on Mom’s mermaid tank.”

Koko took the pipe back and inhaled a measured half of the dried weeds left in the tiny pipe bowl. He let his smoke out through the gap in his teeth. “Sure. Fine. We’ve both had our fuckups. But listen. We’re close to Thanerdon.”

“That moralistic ass pit that made everyone rent rooms so that there’d be no shenanigans? They never had enough rooms for all of us and everyone had to pair– Ooooohhhh…”

Koko let her have the last of their pipe. “Everyone had to pair up. They made us do a blood test to prove we were sibs and everything. And they’re relentlessly heteronormative. Which means they put the boys with the boys…”

Lulu drew a heart around their prospective parentals with the stem of their pipe. “And the girls with the girls. Now all we gotta do is scam Monty Junior into going to Thanerdon.”

*

The plan was on. The entire circus was in on it. Well. The entire circus except for Mak’arune and La’ming, both oblivious as hell. Everyone who was a part of the circus suddenly became exemplary citizens of high moral standing, and all paraphernalia of naughtiness was well concealed.

So well concealed that some of them wouldn’t find it until next spring, but they all agreed that it would be worth it if those two finally admitted something about each other and their feelings.

Montgomery Jr, as well as five other crew members, kept the proposed roommates occupied for a majority of the day. Montgomery had Mak’arune securing paperwork, and other circus crew had La’ming run off her feet with errands, often to the other side of Thanerdon.

The twins secured their own room early. A modest twin (ha!) with single bunks that they would have to muss up half of because their own nighttime peace of mind included being able to reach out in their slumber and find their sibling. On the rare occasion that they felt safe enough to meditate, they did so back-to back and wands in hand.

Thus, the two lovers-in-waiting found themselves with just one bedroom with one bed to sharem, and the individual of their affections being dragged into the room by one of the twins.

“Its this or jail, Mom,” Lulu said, shoving her adoptive parent by her shoulders. “And we already spent the bail fund on the rooms, so… It’s not really a choice.”

Koko, meanwhile, grunted as he shoved Mak’arune closer to his adoptive parent. “They say… nothing naughty can happen. It’s just for the week. We… meditate… anyway… (Oof) So… what’s… the big… deal?”

It was clear that inertia and abject mortification had produced a pretty darn effective repulsion shield that kept La’ming and Mak’arune three feet apart and burning bright with embarrassment. The twins checked each other across the seemingly impassable gulf.

Koko made the universal gesture for, What now?

Lulu made the universal gesture for, I don’t fuckin’ know…

Koko attempted being glib. “Well you two already know each other, so I guess it’s arm wrasslin’ to see who gets the side nearest the privy or something.”

Lulu, too, tried to lighten the mood. “Mom snores when she lies on her back so you might have to jab her in the ribs real hard if that happens.”

They both apparently rolled ones. Silence stretched as the ruddy tides of mortification rose to conquer two Elf faces. Koko side-stepped towards the door. Lulu followed suit.

“We’ll… uh… we’ll leave you two to it.”

“Don’t do anything we haven’t done,” chirped Lulu.

Five seconds out in the hall, after they shut the door, they switched to Us.

“What the fuck was that? ‘Don’t do anything we haven’t done’? What the fuck, Lulu?”

“I couldn’t help it. I panicked. It was meant to be a joke.”

“Nobody’s laughing, sis…”

“I fucking noticed.”

Koko’s ear twitched. They were talking. Well. Saying stuff in the vicinity of each other. “Shuddup, they might be working something out.”

Both twins put an ear to the door.

*

Mak’arune had gone past vermillion and was heading towards maroon because she also hardly dared breathe. Silence stretched like a prisoner on the rack. She coughed delicately to remind herself that air existed and she was free to partake.

“So,” said La’ming.

“Yeah,” allowed Mak’arune.

“I’m sorry about those kids,” she allowed. “I think they think we’d be cute together or something.”

“Yeah.” Her brain caught up with her mouth, and then raced off with it. “I mean no. I mean… we could, I suppose, but there’s complications. I mean. You’re a perfectly nice person and everything. Of course you are. I think you’re doing a wonderful job with those two scamps. It’s just… I always thought…”

La’ming rescued her with, “We can take turns meditating on the bed. It’s only four hours each.”

Outside the door, Koko shouted, “DAMNIT!”

Everyone knew about the horrors of St Vingo’s by the time the twins fount Montgomery’s circus again. Montgomery had made the mistake of assuming that they would be safe in the arms of their extant family. He had assumed erroneously.

Their remaining living relatives - pure assholes. Once the grandfathers died, all promises of a safe home and a good future were forfeit. Which was why the circus found them again - destitute, desperate prostitutes who ran for the shelter of scum and villainy that was Montgomery’s Amazing Circus.

He let them be as idle as they wanted to be until they hit the Winter Campgrounds in Varmvale. It seemed fair. They needed time. Time to recover. Time to establish normalcy. Time to heal both mentally and physically from their misadventures. Time… that nobody had enough of.

Montgomery woke in the wee small hours to the sound of shouting and camp gear getting knocked over. That was Koko’s voice. He slithered out of his warmed bed to see what the ruckus was, not even bothering to sling on a coat, and remaining in only his sleeping cap.

Koko was out in the campgrounds, shouting at phantoms. He had a wooden spoon in one hand, aiming it like a wand. Judging by the burned end, it was not a wood that was friendly to magic. Judging by the scorch marks around camp, this was not an activity friendly to anyone.

He had to get this situation calmed down before anyone happened to anyone else.

“Keep away from them, you bitch,” Koko panted. “I got my wand. You can’t get them. You can’t have them!”

“That’s right,” said Montgomery, facing the invisible foe of Koko’s imagination with him. “You want them, you’ll have to get through me.”

Koko seemed startled a little. “Monty?”

“That’s right. It’s me.” Because of the situation, he used his least-favourite nickname on himself. “Monty. I want you to take three deep breaths, and name five things you can see. Take your time, now.” Time was the important factor. Koko’s body was awake, but his brain was still having a nightmare.

Koko looked around, still having difficulty discerning reality from phantasm. “Moon. Moon! I see th’ moon. Trees. Caravans. Campfire. You look fuckin’ stupid in your sleep cap, Monty.”

“I’ve been told,” he said dryly. “You’re doing great. Name four things you can hear, now.”

Koko’s ears twitched. “I hear… leaves rustling. The campfire coals cracking. There’s an owl… I hear La’ming snoring.”

Montgomery snorted. “Halverdale could hear La’ming snoring… That’s great. Concentrate on three things you can feel. Let’s hear them.”

Koko closed his eyes. “I… have… too tight a grip on this spoon… I feel… dirt… under my feet…”

He was starting to panic a little. Montgomery could tell by the way Koko’s ears drooped back and started swivelling closer to his head. He reached out and stroked Koko’s cheek while holding his hand. “Take your time, Koko.”

Tears gathered at the edge of his eyes. “I feel you.”

“That’s good. Good. Deep breath. Tell me about two things you can smell.”

“Horse farts and Naga’s bed funk.” Koko opened his mismatched eyes. The little asshole was fully awake and skating on thin ice as he always did.

“Last step, kid,” Montgomery started guiding him back to the caravan from whence he had come. “One thing you can taste.”

Koko smacked his lips and grimaced. “I need to brush my teeth. My mouth is gross.”

“After dawn,” Montgomery suggested. Inside the twins’ caravan, Lulu was still in bed, arms outstretched for a sibling that wasn’t there. She had only just begun whimpering in her sleep.

Sleep. Not meditation. They didn’t trust their safety. Not yet. The Starlights and their dreams of riches had ruined what little trust had remained in the twins’ souls. Now they slept every time, and meditated rarely, if at all.

Koko clambered into Lulu’s reach, whispering, “It’s all right. We’re safe. They’re gone.” The fact that he could summon only half a breath’s worth of a safe-comfortable-secure kind of purr was telling, and telling harshly, that he wasn’t sure, either.

Montgomery closed their door for them, fetched his coat, and kept watch over their caravan until the dawn coloured in the landscape. They would both likely need sleeping sacks to prevent another random outbreak of somnambulistic battles of old ghosts from their past.

They would definitely need heavy counselling from Exandria when they were safely within the boundaries of Varmvale.

Which left Montgomery the problem of finding light, summer-rated sleeping sacks as the Autumnal chill kept strengthening, and puzzling out who the twins could talk to until Exandria was within reach.

All he could do in the meantime was keep them supplied with dandelions and mead, in the hopes that it would at least calm their fears until something better came along.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 8]

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