Drive to Freedom (Sunrise, Jarek, Glen)

Sunrise frowns, glancing over her notes. "Mokoz? Who's that?"

"Auntie Mokoz?" Thorn helps her find one of the 'important' cards in the hierarchy; Mokoz has been placed extremely close to Arnem. "She's... I don't know what she does, exactly. It's weird. She has this library no one else is allowed to go into, and she's always collecting strange things. Hair from a horse's tail or crushed pearl dust or jars of spiders."

He sighs and sips at his soup again. "She was really nice to me, I guess, but... I don't know. Would hug me or touch my hair or tell me to call her 'auntie' or even 'mama' if I felt lonely. Which... I was. But it was just... a lot. I don't know. Maybe I'm an ungrateful jerk."

Sunrise's eyes raise high. "Oh," she says, her voice deceptively mild. "A spellcaster. Well that's interesting."

Glen shakes his head. "Thorn, you're not ungrateful. The people who were kind to you may have genuinely meant it, but they also surely knew what was happening to you, or had a pretty good idea. They were all part of trying to make you bend and obey and become what they wanted you to be. And there is nothing wrong with rejecting any part of that." He meets Thorn's eyes, if Thorn looks over at him, and smiles. "After just meeting you for a few minutes today, the last thing I would call you is ungrateful. And we were just doing what's right." Glen's serious - he doesn't see anything particularly heroic in what they did. Was that one shot particularly satisfying? Sure. But anyone would have done the same, right? Someone needed help, so they helped. Full stop.

Thorn gives him a warm smile and even laughs softly. "Well, I'm glad you don't think I'm ungrateful. I know I was a little... strained in the slums. Thank you for not holding it against me."

To Sunrise, he shakes his head. "M...maybe? I'm afraid you could fit what I know about magic into a thimble and still have room for your thumb after."

He chuckles himself, shaking his head. "We all were. I'd literally just lost that tiefling I was chasing, after running up 4 flights of stairs, rappelling down a building, and navigating an unhelpful crowd of locals. My disposition was far from sunny. Thank you for not holding it against me, either." His ears turn a little red again - not his finest moment, for sure.

He doesn't have much to add about the possible spellcaster, but if Sunrise says it's so, he believes her. He nods, looking a little worried.

"Pretty sure, at least," she says with a sigh. "I know - well, I don't know myself, but I know of - a spell that uses crushed pearl, and the other things are almost certainly spell components too." She shakes her head. "Which makes sense, that they'd have at least one caster in the family. Can - can you tell us anything more about her?"

"She's pretty," Thorn offers. "I wish I could draw, I'd make you a picture. Olive green skin and strawberry-blond hair. Gray eyes. Young, for an auntie. She might be forty, but she's not much older than that. She was in the wars, too."

Luther narrows his eyes at this. "She would have been in, what, her teens? Twenties?"

Thorn shrugs, unsure. "I guess? Her father was a general or something, and a Redfang on some really distant branch of the family--like, cousins of cousins of cousins several times over. She moved to Brilight after he died, searching for family to take her in. She's very private, but everyone listens when she speaks. Even Mama Arnem."

Sunrise exchanges a glance with Luther. "I... have a question," she says hesitantly, "but I don't know for sure that it's relevant, and it's personal. More so than all the rest of this, I mean." She takes a deep breath. "Your... your orc side. Did your parents ever, well, talk to you about that?"

Thorn shakes his head, looking resigned. "Never. The one time I asked, Father tanned my hide so hard I couldn't sit down for days without crying. Mother said I must never, ever speak to him about it again, so... I didn't. When I got old enough to go to temple on my own, the elven children there told me my real father was a courtesan stud and that Mother had cheated on Father to have me."

"Which temple?" she asks, curious. "And I mean, that's possible, but I'm not sure I'd trust the word of children on the matter."

Glen has thoroughly lost his grip on any foothold he had in the conversation - and he's okay with that. He's mostly trying to be supportive. Sunrise is asking questions that he had no idea how to ask, and he's grateful, which he tries to convey by nodding at her, thankfully.

But listening to Thorn again recount a tale of being beaten, he swallows hard, the taste of bile in his mouth. He mumbles quietly, worried he's apologizing to the point that it doesn't seem genuine, "I'm sorry, Thorn."

Thorn smiles and reaches to cover Glen's hand with him. "I don't want to say 'it's okay' because it wasn't," he says with a rueful smile, "but it's in the past and I've accepted I can't change it. All I want now is to raise my children so they're never treated that way by anyone." Blushing, he shakes his head. "But you don't have to apologize, is what I'm trying to say. He's the one who owes me those words, not you, Glen."

To Sunrise, he gives her a wry smile. "Father worships Moradin. Which, yes, has been a bit of an awkward spot. I'm not even allowed inside the temple, being orcish. When I was old enough to go with him, he'd leave me at the Lirr temple. There's a play area for children. With finger paints and everything."

Glen's stomach does a little backflip as Thorn's hand covers his own, and his ears turn a little pinker to match Thorn's own blush. He tries intensely hard to listen to what Thorn is saying over the blood pounding in his ears. "I...understand what you mean. But I-- you are so strong, and kind. It's clear you deserve nothing more than happiness. Knowing the hard road you've ridden to today, it still makes me want to apologize." He lets his thumb reach up a tiny bit, and squeeze the side of Thorn's hand. "I meant what I said. You're safe. And I can only speak for myself, but if you ever need help again, I'll always be glad to lend a hand." He smiles, looking at him with shy, quiet admiration.

Thorn laughs shyly. "Well, if you mean it, I'll probably take you up on it," he warns. "Quivyll says we'll need every ally we can get and then some, if we're going to come out on top. He says politics is uglier than any war."

Luther chuckles at this. "He's not wrong." Standing, he raps at the doors for the servant to re-enter and begin clearing away the remnants of their meal.

Glen's eyes widen a little. "Certainly take me up on it - I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want you to." He smiles, overcome with a little shyness of his own. "And Quivyll and Luther are surely right - but I'm just a ranger. I know my tribe, the Silverwoods, the wall, and little else. I don't know what good I would be to someone who needed political allies. But if you think I'd be helpful, of course I mean it. I'll be there."

"As will I," Sunrise adds, "for whatever that's worth." She rises. "For now, though, I think we've taken enough of your time." She smiles. "I wouldn't mind a description of those three you mentioned - Brud, and the clever one, and the girl who wants to be a dancer. And maybe where to find them. But other than that, I can't think of any other questions at the moment." She hesitates. "Is it okay to come back? When we find out more?"

Thorn's eyes sparkle at this description of Glen being 'just' a ranger. "Are you kidding? That's so interesting, though! I can count on one hand the number of times I've been allowed outside the city wall! I'd love to hear all about the Silverwoods."

Sunrise's question takes him by surprise and he blushes. "I hope you do? I don't, um, have many friends, so I'm always excited to meet new people willing to save my life? Ha. And, oh! Um. I can tell you sort of what they look like...?"

Luther interrupts smoothly. "Sunrise, I will send drawings over to your manor, if that suits you. Shall I walk you out to my carriage? You are accorded the same offer I gave your friend: my drivers shall take you where you please."

"Of course," she says with a smile. "But where do I lay down this little guy here?" She nods down at Xilo.

Glen is surprised by Thorn's strong interest in him. He's always seen himself as just another soldier, just another ranger, just another elf. To have someone so earnestly want to hear about him and his life is an unfamiliar, but very good, feeling. "Oh! Well, um. I wouldn't really know where to start, but I'd," he pauses, a little unsure, "I mean, I'd love to come back to visit and tell you all about it. Maybe I can get to know little Xilo the way I've gotten to be good friends with Eryn, too. Right, little one?" She dozes in his arm, and he smiles down at her. "I'm... really glad you're okay, Thorn." He looks over at him earnestly, still feeling that weird, queasy, but oddly nice feeling in his stomach when he does.

"I'm glad we're all okay," Thorn agrees with a grin. "And, yes, gods, if you're offering free baby-wrangling then you definitely have to come back," he teases. "No take-backs."

Luther signals for servants to show Thorn and the babies upstairs to his suite of rooms, then guides Sunrise and Glen out to the carriages out front where Jarek left earlier. "Same destination or separate?" he asks lightly.

He looks to Sunrise. "Do you want to ride together and sort of debrief on everything somewhere? A quiet bar? Or would you rather wait? I'm sure your shoulder is sore, and it's been a hell of a day. I'm good either way."

"I need to go home," Sunrise says with a sigh. "Gotta get changed and cleaned up; I'm crashing someone else's date tonight." Taking out paper, she scrawls something out. "Before I forget, though." Handing it to Luther, she explains, "Thorn needs a wetnurse, and he's probably going to need a nanny too. This is a friend of mine. She's got two little ones of her own, and she's always been good with children. I recommend giving her a shot."

Luther takes the paper with a smile, glancing at the writing. "I will reach out to her. Will she be terrified of me?"

"I'm still pretty terrified of you, sir. Uh, Luther. Maybe more after today?" He chuckles, trying to break the ice with the commissioner.