Ch 7. A Bard’s Tale
John stood in line at Hilda’s, waiting behind a short lizardkin with blue scales. Once the lizard got his brownies he moved over to the counter.
Today Mia was wearing a black shirt with puffy sleeves, a pair of black trousers, and a fishnet. Not fishnets, a literal fishnet that she’d cut a head hole and arm holes into. It still smelled a bit like saltwater.
“Good morning John, wanna try some scones today? Mom made them special for a tea party, but the client never showed.”
John frowned. “Well, I’ll take my usual, but give me a few scones too. I have a new secretary starting today and I don’t know yet if she eats regular food.”
“Oh yeah, I suppose you’d need to replace Katrina eventually, huh?” she asked, ducking down and grabbing a bag that she filled with both a few scones and his usual bagels. John gave her a handful of coins and took the bags out of the store. It took some time for the road to clear enough for him to attempt to cross, but luckily a slow moving tortoise the size of an RV gave him the window he needed to make it across.
He found the door to his office unlocked and stepped inside to see Andressa sitting at her desk and looking over several sheets of paper.
“Good morning,” said John as he let the door close behind him. “I don’t recall giving you the key.”
“I took the extra from this desk before I left yesterday,” she responded with a smile as she straightened the stack of papers in front of her.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t you?” He walked the rest of the way inside and placed the bag of scones on her desk.
“Those are for you, scones from across the street.”
She took the bag and opened it, taking a deep inhale. “You know, in hell this is considered a proposal of marriage.”
He saw her skin darken a bit from pink to a pale red as he thought of how to react to that, then he shook his head. “Good try, but I know it’s the gift of a gem scorched by dragonfire, hellfire, and faerie fire.”
She smiled and took a bite of scone, seeming a bit more vital from their interaction. “Oh, these are quite good actually. Thank you.”
He nodded, “No problem. I wasn’t sure if you needed regular food as well.”
“They feed my body, but anxiety and discomfort feed my spirit.”
“Noted. So, I know it’s your first day, but do you happen to know who I’m seeing today?”
She nodded and grabbed a piece of paper. “Your first appointment today is with a bard named Fabanaccio. Something about having difficulties with other’s expectations of him.”
John nodded, a vague recollection coming to mind.
“Aside from him, you don’t have any new clients until the end of the day.”
John nodded. “I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be, your last secretary has the entire month's appointments all labeled clearly right here,” she held up a piece of paper with times and dates scrolling across it.
“I don’t know how I didn’t find that.”
Andressa shrugged, “Me neither, it was on a stack of papers labeled 'For John', on the top of the desk.”
John reddened a bit at that, and so did Andressa as she fed on his embarrassment.
He sighed. “Well, I’m definitely glad to have you on board. I’m going to make myself something to drink, do you want some tea?”
“Do you have coffee? I despise tea.”
“You have coffee in hell?”
She smiled, “We do, but it’s all dark roast.”
…
John sat and washed down his bagel with a sip of coffee, lightly brushing the crumbs of it off of his green pants. He heard the door open and moved to the door to listen carefully to their conversation.
“Hi, are you Fabanaccio?” asked Andressa.
“Aye, the one and only. And who is this vision in front of me?”
“Andressa. Please have a seat and John will be right with you.”
“I wait with bated breath.”
“I’m sure you do.”
John nodded. He had been a little concerned that she would be just as needling with his clients as she was to him, but was glad that she seemed to be keeping her promise. He heard her knock on the door and whisper.
“Don’t worry, demons honor their deals. Your client is here, not that you didn’t know.”
He coughed a bit and opened the door giving her a cowed smile as he walked into the waiting room. Fabanaccio was waiting for him. The bard was tall and lean, with thickly callused fingers, a perfectly trimmed goatee, long brown hair, and golden eyes like sunlight through whiskey. He had a lute sitting on a pillow next to him that John didn’t recognize, which meant that the man had brought it with him.
“Fabanaccio, come on back.”
He pushed himself up from the couch and tipped a peacock feathered cap to Andressa before going inside. “Until we meet again,” he said as he left her sight.
John and her exchanged a look and he noticed that she was yet another shade of red darker. He closed the door and activated the sound muffling enchantment on it before going over to the teapot.
“Can I offer you some tea, or water?”
“Nothing stronger?” asked the bard with a smile.
“I’m afraid an orc drank all of my stash a few days ago,” replied John with a smile.
“Damn, I’ll have a tea then, dealer’s choice.”
John nodded, and activated the heating rune, taking his time to pour the tea and let it brew before bringing it to Fabanaccio along with a small serving tray with sweeteners and cream. The bard placed a liberal spoonful of honey into his cup and stirred quickly, then took a small sip.
“Not quite as warming as ale, but it’ll do.”
John chuckled and sat on the chair across from him.
“So, Fabanaccio, what can I help you with?”
“I, uh,” he seemed to deflate a bit. “I…”
John took a long sip of his tea, waiting patiently for him to start talking.
After a few minutes of staring at the ground, he managed to speak. “I’m just tired,” he said, exhaustion tinging his voice.
“Is there something you’re tired of?”
The bard sighed. “Everyone expects me to act a certain way. I’ve been a bard for a long time, and an adventurer longer. At first, I liked it. I could play some songs, collect some coin, travel with my friends and write songs of our exploits. I would bed any maiden I could and live as lavishly as was possible.” He took a breath. “Now, when I do anything I feel like I’m playing a character… a caricature of who I am. What’s worse, my friends now expect me to try and seduce any dragon before a fight, or wear a shirt halfway unbuttoned down my chest even in a blizzard. None of them take any of my music seriously, and I don’t know that I could ever even bring myself to play something that wasn’t upbeat and bawdy. On top of that I have such a reputation around here that now any unclaimed bastard across a dozen worlds thinks I may be their daddy. I have been less than discriminating in the past, but come on! I’m only mortal.” He shook his head.
“It sounds to me like you want to be free from what others expect of you, is that right?”
He nodded.
“Well, the first thing is to figure out if people actually do expect that behaviour out of you. If they would really be so disappointed in you toning it down a bit and being more authentic. Your friends, are they adventurers with you?”
“Yes. A few of them from the beginning.”
“So you’re regularly in life or death situations with them?”
“We nearly all got turned to stone by a gorgon just last week.”
“If you can trust them with your life, then I think you can trust them to hear you out. You should have a conversation with them. I’ll even facilitate it here if you’d like. The main problem in almost any relationship is communication. I’m sure we can figure it out.”
“And you think they’d listen? They wouldn’t be… disappointed?”
“If they’re people you’ve fought monsters and travelled worlds with, then I doubt it. A few of your more superficial acquaintances may not like it, but it’s important to prioritize the people you truly care about, and yourself.”
“I dunno…”
“I know it can be scary, but this is a common problem on my world as well. We have a lot of people with status and celebrity that start to feel a disconnect between who they are publicly and who they are in private. Some of them shave their heads, or pick a completely different and dark artistic direction, or even start trying out different spiritualities like they were candies, like they’re trying to rail against who they were to shock everyone into seeing who they really are, but-”
“And that works for them?” asked Fabanaccio, who had leaned forward and now had a gleam of interest in his eye.
John’s expression became concerned. “Uh, I think it leads to maybe some short term satisfaction, but-”
The bard shot to his feet with a broad smile on his face. “I’ll give it a shot!” he said deftly gathering up his lute and its pillow as he headed for the door.
“I was just making a comment, I really don’t recommend that you-”
Fabanaccio pushed his way into the waiting room.
“Thanks for the advice! I’ll let people know that you give great advice.”
John was clambering after him as quickly as he could, but the bard was very quick on his feet.
“Please listen to me-”
The front door opened and Fabanaccio kept walking.
John let out a groan as he slid his hand down his face slowly. “That’s definitely not going to go well.” He looked over at Andressa who was now a stunning crimson color and wearing a wide sharp-toothed smile.
“Well… at least someone got something out of that.”
She giggled a bit. “I think I really like this job.”
John straightened his collar and held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Me too. Just some days more than others.” He shook his head. “Hopefully he’ll come back.”