A Friend to Rats II

Once we reach a stretch of road slightly less populated, I ask, "Have you figured out what you're going to say?"

After a moment of silence, he says, "Not yet."

I point out the obvious. "It looked like she was quite fond of you. I'm sure if you asked for her help, she would gladly oblige."

"Right but. I'd rather not frame it so she feels like she has to help."

What? Why? Is he trying to find an excuse to back out of this? I'll have to tread carefully. "What do you mean? Nothing about that is framed."

He shuffles the back of his hair, either frustrated with himself or the situation. "I know, I know. I'm just belly-aching over nothing, it won't cause an issue when we reach her."

I'm skeptical as to how true that is. If he's wrong it means I'll have to take over, defeating the whole purpose of having him do this in the first place. Should I press him on it? If I do this right, I can ensure this doesn't cause any issues later. I could also just annoy him by pressuring it.
No, I should drop it. He and I don't have enough of a rapport for me to go delving into his personal life. Whatever happens I'll be able to improvise.

It's not long before we're silently drifting through the winding back streets. After a confusing mess of twists and turns, the sign of the Rosy Cauldron falls into view. Caresson lets himself inside to a singular customer at the counter and the owner no where to be seen. Shortly after, the owner emerges from the back, carrying medicine and a measuring mug. She excitedly calls out, " Welcome, I'll be- Darren! What a pleasant surprise."
She notices me. "Oh. You've brought a... Prisoner? Does he need disinfectant for his wounds?"

"He's a friend. We're here on business, but go ahead and finish up here."

Clearly a mix between curious and concerned, she explains to her customer how to use the medicine properly. After getting her money, she quickly adjusts her clothes and fixes any minor imperfections in her hair before addressing Caresson. "What do you need?"

Caresson gestures his hand towards the back. "We should talk away from any curious ears."

Her eyes widen. "Oh. Of course."
She drops below the counter to retrieve a wooden sign with a cute carving of her at her cauldron and the words, 'Brewing. Holler for help.'
She leaves the sign on the counter and beckons us into the back where she leads us to her cramped bedroom. Despite having hardly any walking space to begin with, she somehow managed to pack in countless flowers that are admittedly nice to look at. "I'm sorry it's such a mess, I wasn't expecting guests. I can brew some tea real quick if you'd like."

Caresson holds up his hand. "Don't worry about it Veronica. We won't be here long."

She sits on the bed with a sigh. "You just hate my tea."

"I was trying to be polite, but you're not wrong."

She gasps and playfully pushes his shoulder. "You weren't supposed to agree!"

I guess they forgot I was here. I speak up with, "I can wait in the lobby if... this is going to progress."

If Caresson was embarrassed by my comment, he hides it well. He says, "Let me introduce you. This is the Eclipse ranger, Kar'Desh. He and I are planning to bring a certain influential criminal to justice. We're going to get an unaffiliated store owner to sell their store to him and carefully document his actions."

Veronica looks like a particularly harsh truth just smacked her across the face and nods. "Okay... I won't pretend to know how this'll help, but I'll do it."

Caresson carefully says, "It doesn't have to be you. We came to you first because I know I can trust you, but we can easily find someone else to drag into this."

"I said I'd do it, didn't I? Why are you always so half-hearted about me?"

"I-"

"You've never committed to anything with me Darren. Why? What am I lacking?"
I'm not sure what that has to do with the current situation but if it works, who am I to complain?

Caresson waits until he's sure she finished before saying, "You're not lacking anything. With my job-"

I quickly place a hand on his shoulder to silence him. "That's not what she's looking for."
I had to watch as Ren made that mistake once. I won't let Caresson make it too.

Caresson stares at me in a brief moment of disbelief before sighing. "Once today's patrol is done, I'll come by and we can discuss it then. I can't use patrol time for personal matters. It wouldn't be right to the people."
He's likely trying to put it off for now. All he does is waste time on patrol.

Veronica looks dejected and says, "You've said that before Darren."

He looks to the ground. "I know. I promise I'll tell you everything before tomorrow."
The silence of a conversation ended suffocates the room for an uncomfortable amount of time. Normally, I'd break it, but this doesn't seem like the time for a joke.

Before too long Caresson begins again. "Anyway. I'm sorry to have doubted your resolve. Is there anything you have questions on?"

Caresson explains to Veronica that after selling her business for the Épicier seal, she would record any orders or changes Épicier demands of her to gather evidence and testimony against him.  

Once she had no more questions, Caresson stands, offers her a hand up, and pulls her into a hug. Despite his breastplate, she gladly leans into him and they stand there holding each other for a long while. What am I even doing here?
Caresson says, "I'll see you tonight, okay?"
She only nods, and we finally leave.

We make our way out onto the street. Right outside the door, Caresson takes a deep breath and says, "Sorry you had to see that. Let's go."

"Don't worry about it. One of my favourite pass times is actually to intrude on private moments."

"You do that often?"

"Often enough to be able to help. If, of course, they request it."
Of course, I don't actually care. This is to ensure his trust and loyalty. Even if he doesn't accept help, the offer should help convince him of my innocence.

He nods. "Mhm. She wants a family you know. We me specifically. I don't know why."

"Do you mean exclusively?"
That's strange. I don't think I've ever met someone who wanted to be exclusive. And why would they?

"Maybe, but that's not what I'm concerned about. I don't know what a father is supposed to look like and I know I wouldn't make a good one."
As we walk he takes another deep breath and shakes his head, staring off into some distant memory. "The careahs are suffering you know. The support from the temple isn't enough, they need...Something. So many of us end up either templars, careahs, or addicts rotting in the streets. My mother tried to hide it from me but... Why am I telling you this? We have a job to do."

I let the grey clouds threatening rain fill silence between us. I shouldn't share this, but if I want his trust... I begin, "My sisters never met their father. He died of some illness shortly after they were conceived. I'll never forget the sobs my mother tried to hide from me. She knew she couldn't take care of another child by herself. One of us was going to die. So you might be able to understand her horror when she had twins. And somehow they all survived childbirth. It should have been a day of endless celebration. But she couldn't celebrate. Not when she knew the twins would starve to death."

He asks quietly, "Did they survive?"

"I wouldn't be a thief if they didn't, but that's not what I was getting at. All I'm trying to say is that I understand. I understand what it's like to be a father when you aren't ready for it and to protect those I love."

"How am I supposed to be a father if I'm dead? My line of work isn't exactly safe. At any point I could be ordered off into a holy war or get stabbed in the neck by some hidden knife."

I ask, "Does that mean it's not worth trying? What if you survive? I've seen plenty of aged templars."

He stops under an overhang and turns to me directly. "I've killed so many people heretic. I am not worthy of..."
He waves his hand around searching for the correct words. "Any of it."

"Sol commands his followers to have many children, yeah? There's a reason for that. If you're taking life out of the world, you must return life to the world."
That's the elven philosophy anyway. Since Sol stole from us, I'm sure their's is similar. I continue. "You're a good man Caresson, despite what you've done. Make something to reflect that."

"I didn't take you for an optimist. Why do you even care?"

He's right to be skeptical. "I'm an optimist when life calls for it. And I respect both you and Veronica. You could have been like every other human and ignored me like the dirt, but you respect me even while calling me heretic. And she helped my brother when no one else would. No one else would give us the medicine first and could trust we'd get the money later."

He stares at me in disbelief. "She what?"
He rests his head in his hand. "No wonder she has trouble making much money."

"I did pay her back."

"You better have."
He starts marching again. "I'll think about it, but we've wasted enough time as it is. Come on Kar'Desh, we've a criminal to apprehend."

"Yes sir."