I’ll Paint Your Picture, Darling Excerpt
Characters: Fjord, Jester Lavorre(mentioned), Original Child Character
Warnings: No archive warnings apply.
“Alright, Little Bee,” Fjord said, looking down at Eysel who was walking dutifully by his side. “You have a very important task today, remember?”
Eysel nodded, her small hand tucked comfortably into his. She stared up at the large statesman’s house.
Fjord had a meeting with a statesman to discuss a possible business endeavor for Stone’s Throw Shipping. A deal like this one could really help get the company off the ground, and he couldn’t help being slightly nervous. He was rather out of practice as the “face of the party” now that the Nein weren’t traveling together as frequently.
He was also a little... apprehensive about bringing Eysel along. A small child wasn’t exactly his first choice as a business wingman, but Jester was visiting Marion, and it was Orly’s day off. They’d all agreed never to let Eysel stay alone with Kingsley (not again), which meant Fjord was double-teaming his responsibilities today.
Fatherhood and entrepreneur extraordinaire.
At least, that’s what Jester had said. He wasn’t so sure.
Still, he tried not to reveal his concerns to Eysel. Instead, he plopped his own hat on her head—chuckling as it nearly fell past her eyes. “You’re my first mate today,” he reminded her. “Think you can handle it?”
She nodded, peering up at him from under the hat. “Yes, I can. I promise.”
As the two of them waited to be taken into the main house, Fjord occupied himself with pitching silently in his head. He went over the words over and again, hoping he wouldn’t forget them when the time came.
Stone’s Throw Shipping is a unique business endeavor that I believe could greatly benefit a noble —
“Fjord.” Eysel tugged on his leg. “There’s a cow.”
Blinking, Fjord turned to the rest of the yard, and yes, there was in fact a large cow nibbling its way through some shrubbery. “So, there is.”
Fjord looked around, glancing at the main door for several seconds. He still didn’t hear any sort of footsteps, and the maid who’d told them to wait outside hadn’t been all that specific.
“Alright, just for a moment,” Fjord agreed, taking Eysel by the hand and leading her out into the yard. He was pretty sure cows didn’t gobble up small children. He’d be on his guard just in case.
The moment they approached the beast, they were immediately alerted to a commotion rounding the side of the house. A young elven boy—looking no older than twenty—raced towards them. His knees were dirty, and judging by the weed clippings he was clutching in one hand, Fjord assumed the boy must be the gardener.
“No, no,” the boy groaned, hands on his knees as he approached. “I just shaped those last week.”
The cow didn’t seem perturbed by the boy’s panicked state, continuing to munch happily on the plants.
Eysel immediately hid behind Fjord’s leg. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, and Fjord already knew exactly what she wanted.
He cleared his throat, and the boy only just seemed to notice the two of them standing there. He peered up and over the top of the cow, eyes getting wide.
“Can I help you?” he asked, adjusting his shirt and hat the best he could.
“My Eysel here has expressed interest in petting your magnificent beast,” Fjord said as diplomatically as he possibly could.
The boy came around the other side of the cow, wiping his hands on his pants and offering one out to Fjord to shake.
“Certainly,” the boy smiled. “Bourbon’s only flaw is that she loves to ruin my handiwork. Otherwise, she’s the friendliest thing you’ll ever meet. Come now. Just here on the side.”
He guided Eysel towards the cow—apparently called Bourbon—and demonstrated the proper way to pet her. Eysel’s curiosity gradually overtook her shyness, and she dragged Fjord forward to comply.
Eysel’s eyes lit up as she stroked the course, soft hair of the cow, and Fjord could’ve sworn he heard a contented growling noise coming from deep in her throat. She laughed a little, petting Bourbon with more confidence as the cow swung her head back to investigate the small girl.
“Thank you,” Fjord said to the boy with a gracious nod.
“Name’s Finric,” the boy said with a shrug. “My pleasure.”
All too soon, the front door to the main house opened, and Fjord was summoned inside. He collected Eysel and together, they trudged back up towards the porch.
“I think you should do business with Bourbon,” Eysel observed pointedly, glancing over her shoulder at Finric who was now wrestling the cow out of the shrubbery.
“Bourbon is a cow,” Fjord said.
“I like cows.” Eysel hummed a little tune as she skipped up the porch stairs.
The first part of their afternoon was a tour of the grand estate. The main house was lovely, but Eysel didn’t seem all that engaged.
Indeed, about twenty minutes into the tour, she was already quietly complaining of boredom. Desperate to keep her entertained, Fjord swung the little girl up onto his shoulders for one of her favorite games: pilots.
Instantly, she brightened, giggling as she pulled his ears and turned him in all sorts of directions.
The staff leading the tour gave him a rather odd look, but he merely smiled back and nodded, commenting on how the design was reminiscent of coastal houses in some of the most beautiful port cities he’d visited.
As they were coming to the end of the tour, Fjord tried to turn into the next hallway while following their guide, but Eysel had other plans. She twisted him in the other direction, and he played the part—flailing dramatically.
He could hear her laughing above him as his arms spun out, pretending to have been completely caught unawares. His fingers grazed the edge of a very fine porcelain vase displayed in the hall. It wobbled and would’ve likely toppled if not for his quick reflexes.
The staff instantly was at his side, examining the vase and glaring at Eysel.
“We’d prefer if you didn’t touch the expensive artifacts,” one of them said, a bit patronizing for Fjord’s liking. “Next time, please alert us that you’ll be bringing a child, so we can make the proper... precautions around the place.”
“My apologies.” Fjord carefully swung Eysel down off his shoulders, taking her by the hand. “Won’t happen again, and this sort of thing certainly doesn’t represent Stone’s Throw as a company.”
“It was an accident,” Eysel whispered to him.
“I know.” He gave her a reassuring nod. “Let’s just walk on our own two feet for now, okay?”
Lunch was served in the sitting room next. The owner of the estate was waiting for them, and Fjord introduced himself as they sat down.
Business talks were about to commence.
“You brought a child?” The owner eyed Eysel as she sat down, a note of disdain mingling with the surprise in his voice. “We have napkins, if... she requires one.”
Eysel had somehow gotten a sticky goo all over her fingers, and she stuck them together with a smile. Fjord sighed. He’d taken his eyes off her for one second.
“She’s my charge for the afternoon,” he explained, handing Eysel a napkin.
As the food was brought out, Fjord gratefully accepted a serving. It was definitely gourmet, with fancy toppings and small portions that were reminiscent of what Marion served at the Chateau during her performances.
Unfortunately, Eysel had decided to let her Jester really shine through that afternoon. She picked at the food on her plate, moving it around with her hands or a fork until it was smeared in a rather unappetizing way.
The owner coughed a little, noticing Eysel’s behaviour.
Fjord could feel his face heating up, and he leaned over to the little girl. “Please stop playing with your food and eat it.”
“It’s yucky,” she complained.
Lunch proceeded rather awkwardly after that, and Fjord hoped it wouldn’t ruin the rest of the afternoon. He politely tried to broach several topics related to Stone’s Throw, ignoring the way Eysel was so clearly pouting beside him.
After what felt like an eternity, lunch concluded.
“Shall we continue the conversation in the other room?” the owner said, standing and gesturing for Fjord to follow him. And then he paused, glancing at Eysel who was inspecting a statue of a mermaid on a nearby table.
“Come, Eysel,” Fjord motioned, beckoning for her to join them.
The owner’s smile faltered, and he winced. “Might I suggest it be... grown-ups only? I fear a child might distract us from the more important matters at hand.”
Fjord sighed, kneeling down beside his little girl. He lifted the hat so he could see her face better. “Would it be alright if you played quietly in here?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Do I have to?”
“If you’re really good, we can get a treat on the way home.” He was begging now, and he knew that was definitely not the right method of parenting, but he really, really needed this meeting to go well.
After kissing the top of her forehead, Fjord joined the owner in the adjoining room.
All things considered, it was a bit smoother without having to worry about Eysel every couple of seconds. The conversation flowed smoothly without any interruptions, and Fjord hoped that boded well for the potential contract.
“That’s exactly why I believe Stone’s Throw Shipping is so important,” Fjord explained. “There’s just no other company with the same resources and commitment to excellence on the market right now.”
Throughout their talk, he tried to listen every now and again for Eysel in the other room, but all seemed to be going okay. There were no large crashes, no crying, and he made it almost an entire hour before he excused himself to check on the small girl.
The moment he poked his head into the other room, Fjord’s heart dropped. Eysel was nowhere to be seen, and his hat lay in the center of the room—abandoned.
“What happened?” Fjord asked the staff lingering at the other end of the room. “Where’d she go?”
One of them glanced around with a shrug, and the other one pointed to the door.
“She excused herself some time ago, sir,” they explained.
Fjord rubbed at his forehead, taking a deep breath. The grounds weren’t that large, but surely, someone should’ve come to get him when she’d wandered off.
“Fjord?” The statesman re-entered the room as well, looking irritated. “Are you intending to keep me waiting all afternoon?”
Picking up his hat, Fjord shook his head. “It’s Eysel. She vanished.”
“Children are prone to doing that.” There was no real empathy in the statesman’s voice. He glanced at his timepiece. “I would suggest next time not bringing a child to a business endeavor, yes? Certainly not one so poorly behaved. I fear her parents have not imparted proper manners.”
Fjord raised an eyebrow. “I’m her parent.”
The statesman glanced up, curious. “Is that so? Well, my statement still stands.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Fjord said, dusting his hat off and placing it on his head. “I am going to go locate said ‘poorly-mannered’ child of mine. Good afternoon.”
He checked the halls of the house, and the front foyer. There was no sign of Eysel. Just as he was starting to grow slightly more concerned, he spotted a familiar figure in the lawn outside.
Eysel was playing with Bourbon the cow while Finric looked on. She was grass-stained and dirty, but seemed happier than he’d seen her all afternoon.
She saw him approaching and smiled. “You found me.”
“Why did you wander off?” he asked, relieved.
“First mate wasn’t that fun,” she shrugged, pulling up a few blades of grass. “I wanted to play something else. Can we pick flowers?”
Fjord glanced at Finric, who shrugged. “Just not too many,” he said. “The owners shouldn’t notice much.”
Gleefully, Eysel began to pick flowers—designating them for different people. She selected some for Jester, for Nona Marion, and even for Caduceus.
(“He loves flowers,” she explained to Fjord, quite seriously.)
Fjord gladly joined in, trying not to think about explaining to Jester and the crew why Stone’s Throw didn’t have a new business partner.
As if she could read his mind, Eysel glanced up at him. “Did you get what you wanted?”
He ruffled her hair with a sigh. “Not quite, Little Ember. But that’s alright. Shipping is a tough business these days. I’m just glad you’re happy.”
Finric’s face brightened. “Did I hear you’re in shipping?”
“I am,” Fjord shrugged, trying not to sound too dour about it. “If you know of anyone in need of a business deal, let me know.”
Finric stuck out his hand for the second time that day. “Let me re-introduce myself,” he laughed. “I own the estate next door. And I’d love to talk shipping with you.”
Fjord couldn’t help gaping at him a little. “So... you’re not a gardener, then?”
“Oh, just part-time,” the boy shrugged. “Bourbon here ruined a patch of prized flowers. The statesman wasn't too pleased, but let me off with some labor instead of pressing any charges.”
It took Finric and Fjord the better part of the next two hours to verbally work out a contract, with Fjord agreeing to send signed materials over to Finric’s estate within the week. Finric told him about his family’s fortune in enchanted flora and herbs, and how partnering with a shipping company would greatly expand their influence.
“I have to say,” Finric said as he and Fjord finished up, watching Eysel say her goodbyes to Bourbon. “I applaud your business for getting its priorities right. My family wouldn’t be where we are today if we hadn’t put each other first.”
Fjord smiled at Eysel, who turned and waved at him. “I can understand that, I think.”
On the way home, Eysel asked to finish the shoulder ride that had been cut short on the morning tour. As she perched high above the world, Fjord could feel her delicate touch weaving flowers into his hair, but he didn’t complain—not even once.
“I wasn’t really all that good,” Eysel sighed. “No treat, right?”
“Not true,” Fjord squeezed her leg. “You were the best first mate I could’ve asked for.” And then he paused, panicking. “Just promise you won’t tell Beau, okay?”
