Chapter Text
Ulysses didn’t usually like bars. They were overcrowded, loud, and often stank to high hell. Unfortunately, the common area at the inn where they were staying for this leg of their journey was worse, and Madison had requested a few hours’ privacy in their shared room. Understandable, since she was about to meet her betrothed for the first time in her life. So Ulysses had set wards on her room, checked to make sure the protective amulets he’d given her were charged, and set out into the town to find the least objectionable place to while away the night.
He had settled on a smaller place near the center of town as the least likely to have criminal activity and the most likely to have decent wine. It wasn’t so bad, once the barkeep showed him to a table in the back. The wine was drinkable, the noise level wasn’t awful, and he was able to tune most of it out and get to his book in peace.
No god would let his night go unspoiled, though. Tonight’s misfortune came in the form of a huge patron of the bar sliding into the chair across from him. “Hey,” she said, her voice deep and slightly slurred by drink. He begrudgingly looked up from his book and sized her up. First glance got him a tiefling- and not bothering to hide it, red-skinned with huge curving horns- who was clearly drunk, trying to do something with her eyebrows that was maybe meant to be suggestive. His bodyguard’s instincts told him to give her a second look, which got him the breadth of her shoulders, the way she held herself, still balanced even with what smelled like several drinks in her system. The way her left arm was on the table, steadying her to lean towards him, but the right was by her hip, instinctively waiting for a weapon that wasn’t there. If he had to guess, he’d say mercenary, possibly a bodyguard. Clearly not a very good one, or else in between jobs. Any halfway decent bodyguard wouldn’t abandon their charge to get wasted in a nowhere tavern.
Ulysses raised an eyebrow at her, which she took as an invitation to continue. “So, my friend thinks you’re hot.” The tiefling pointed at a table halfway across the bar where an admittedly very beautiful person was sitting and trying not to look over at them. “You single?”
“I’m busy,” Ulysses replied, turning back to his book. The woman shrugged and left, and Ulysses tuned the bar out again.
**
“And you have the bracelet?” Ulysses asked, checking his spellbook for the thirteenth time that hour.
“Yes, Ulysses,” Madison replied, rolling her eyes. “And the amulet, and the scroll, and the salve to shield my skin from the sun. Honestly, sometimes I think you’d sew wards into my underthings if you had the chance.”
Ulysses frowned. “Well, actually-”
“No, no, absolutely not,” Madison said, cutting him off. “If you even try that I am going to have you fired so fast your head will spin.” She sighed, smoothing the front of her dress. “But thank you. I know my mother is worried sick about this, so it means a lot to her that you go to all this trouble.”
“It is my job, after all.” Ulysses smiled at Madison, and she smiled back, trying not to look worried. Their relationship was not an especially close one, but he had been her bodyguard for years now, so he knew when something was on her mind. And if he was being honest, he couldn’t blame her. To be married to someone she had never met, to tie her noveau riche house to an ancient pedigree, to put herself through years of a loveless union for the sake of her family- Ulysses couldn’t think of a fate more antithetical to Madison’s strong will and independent spirit. But here she was, going through with it anyway because she had to. He couldn’t help but admire that about her. It was a level of determination that he had always aspired to.
Madison adjusted her elaborate braids one more time, set her jaw, and stood up from her chair. “Well? Shall we go?”
“If you’re ready.” Ulysses opened the door for her, and Madison stepped through.
**
This was the most meticulously-planned courtship Ulysses had ever heard of. First the initial meeting, to take place at the house of a noble ally of both houses. Then the announcement of engagement, to take place a week later. Then the engagement party, which would serve as the reception for those allies of House Heatherlock not able to make the journey to Impiltur. Then weeks of dull travel, then the reception in Impiltur, then the wedding itself. He knew the lives of nobles were regimented, but he hadn’t thought their romances usually had a physical itinerary until he was holding it in his hands. And now here they were, right on schedule, waiting in the sitting-room of a noble lady who Madison was gamely trying to make conversation with. Ulysses was doing his best to blend in with the background, to become a piece of furniture in the eyes of the nobles just like all the hired help was. It wouldn’t do Madison much good if he made her more nervous by pacing around. His arms were crossed, his body immobile, but his eyes more than made up for that lack of movement, darting all around the room, scanning for possible threats. Ulysses had gotten very good at paranoia over the years.
Nearly ten minutes after the scheduled meeting time, a butler finally opened the door and announced “Lord Emiel, of House Asuna.” In came the most dazzling person Ulysses had ever seen. They swept into the room in some sort of gauzy outfit halfway between a dress uniform and a ballgown, silencing all conversation in their wake. Their hair was braided and coiffed even more elaborately than Madison’s, and Madison had used no small amount of magic on hers. They were nothing short of ethereal. And behind them came-
Oh gods above. It was the woman from last night. Her simple sleeveless tunic had been swapped out for fitted black scale mail that accentuated her broad shoulders and left her arms completely bare. Her casual drunken stumble had been replaced by a purposeful stride, only ever one or two steps away from her charge’s side. Her horns had even been capped off by beaten gold tips that glinted in the light of the chamber. Ulysses had to fight the urge to sneer. He’d seen her type before. Bodyguards who made their living off of looking more dangerous than they were. She’d probably gotten that intricate neck tattoo just to look exotic. Most employers didn’t learn until it was too late that being six feet tall and built like a direbear was no substitute for actual skill and intellect, and Ulysses didn’t think this bodyguard had much of either. It was strange, though. Most of the time, the kind of person who hired a bodyguard for the flash factor was a small-time merchant with little experience in actually being a target. Noble families tended to at least go by training or pedigree. Ulysses didn’t know much about Madison’s betrothed, but he did know that the current head of House Asuna- Emiel’s sister- was supposed to be extremely competent. Certainly not the type of person who would let her little sibling go so far from home with only what amounted to a circus performer by their side.
Emiel sat down next to Madison and smiled at her, speaking too softly for Ulysses to hear. With her charge safely deposited into the overstuffed embrace of an armchair, the tiefling looked around the room. Her gaze landed on Ulysses and she smiled, a big open smile that Ulysses had only previously seen on children and street performers looking for their next audience participant. Oh no, was she going to- Yes. Yes, she was striding over to Ulysses. Mystra’s loom, did she recognize him?
“Hey!” she said, doing the worst stage-whisper he’d ever heard. “Holy shit, small world! Did you follow us from Drustban or what?”
“Since you got here late, it would seem that you are the ones who followed us.” Wait. She had said ‘us.’ So the person she had pointed to in the tavern… Ulysses looked at Emiel, who was chatting lightly with their hostess and Madison. No, that would be ridiculous. Nobles who were about to be betrothed didn’t try to pick up people in bars by sending their bodyguards to flirt for them. Besides, the lighting had been bad, and so logically any resemblance Ulysses drew between the person at the bar and the noble before him was just speculation.
“Guess so!” Enna leaned against the wall next to him. “So who you working for?” When he raised an eyebrow, she grinned. “I mean, you’re clearly not here for socializing. You part of the household or with one of the other bluebloods?”
Ulysses let a long moment pass before responding. Even with other show-offs, this amount of crosstalk was not usual for other bodyguards. His colleagues were a fairly solitary bunch, not as given to swapping tales of glory and shop talk as mercenaries were. She was even more unprofessional than he’d thought. “I am Lady Heatherlock’s bodyguard.”
“Oh, sweet! I’m Emiel’s.” Ulysses fought back the urge to say I know and why are you being so familiar with them and do you chat like this with everyone you meet, how has your charge not gotten stabbed yet. “My name’s Crush-Your-Enemies-See-Them-Driven-Before-You-And-Hear-The-Lamentation-Of- Their-Women Johnson.” She stuck out her hand. “Or Enna, if that’s a mouthful.”
“Um.” Ulysses took her hand, blinking. “I’m Ulysses. Is that all your first name?”
“Yeah, except for Johnson! I’m from the plains, and out there people tend to have way cooler names.” Enna shook his hand with a bone-crushing grip. “Where are you from?”
He was not answering that. “Shouldn’t you be watching your charge?”
Enna shrugged, hopefully sensing that the conversation was over, and turned back to watching Emiel.
**
Madison sighed as she threw herself onto her bed. “Well, Ulysses, I’m doomed!” She kicked a shoe off and it hit the wall with a clunk. “Two hours of conversation with Emiel and I am convinced that they do not have a single original or interesting thought in their head! I am going to get married and then wall myself up in our manor and our descendants will tell tales of the ghost of the lady who went mad and died from terminal boring conversation disease. ”
Ulysses crossed the room to retrieve the shoe. “Perhaps they will be more interesting when you speak with them one on one. They are supposed to be fairly learned.”
Madison rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows. “You didn’t have to talk to them, Ulysses! They talked to Lady Foxwell for twenty minutes about hairpieces . If I have to talk to them one on one for more than five seconds I will set the entire building on fire with us inside.”
“Please don’t do that.” Ulysses sat down on the stool in front of the vanity. “That would be difficult to explain to your mother.”
“Can you hand me that pillow?” Madison asked. Ulysses obliged, and Madison buried her face into it. She screamed for long enough that Ulysses had time to put her shoes away at the foot of the bed and start setting wards on the door. When she was done, Ulysses sat on the edge of the bed and handed her a glass of water. “Thank you,” she said, sitting up. “So what’s their bodyguard like? I saw you two talking when they came in.”
“Ugh.” Madison snorted at the expression on Ulysses’ face. “Somehow she’s worse. I think she was only hired because she looks intimidating.”
“I dunno, I don’t mind how she looks,” Madison said, wiggling her eyebrows. Ulysses rolled his eyes and smiled, and Madison laughed. “What? I’m allowed to look at people.” She leaned back onto the headboard and looked up at the ceiling. “I guess Emiel isn’t the worst person I could have gotten married off to. At least they’re pretty, and about my age.” She sighed. “It could have been some shitty old nobleman. And maybe Impiltur will be a nice place to live.”
“You don’t have to pretend like you’re looking forward to it,” Ulysses said. “It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone.” He got up and crossed the room to finish up the wards on the door. “And if you need to talk about it… I can at least listen.”
“Thanks, Ulysses,” Madison said, covering her face with the pillow again. “I think what I really need is a drink. Do you think Lady Foxwell has any elven wine?”
“I can go check for you. You should rest tonight, though. Tomorrow you’re going to spend the entire day with them, after all.” Madison groaned through the pillow, still audible through the door as Ulysses closed it.
Lady Foxwell’s manor was large, but not unmanageable. A servant directed him to the wine cellar. Using the back passageways, Ulysses was able to avoid many of the noble guests who probably had no desire to see a bodyguard lurking around. He’d spent enough time in noble houses to understand that. He was about to leave the passage and enter the cellar when he heard voices. Instinct flattened him against the wall and silenced his footsteps.
“You fuckin- you fuckin get me , Enna!” The person around the corner had clearly just visited the cellar. Some servant taking advantage of an inattentive head of house? “No, listen- listen!” There were two people, based on the giggles he could hear now- one much deeper, one high and tinkling like bells. Slightly drunken bells, but still. “You’re the only- fuckin nobody gets me, even Andromeda is like, you know?” Footsteps were stumbling towards Ulysses, and he wove a quick spell of concealment. Old habits died hard, even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong. “And you’re just like- I know like, our souls are the same , you know?” The footsteps rounded the corner, along with a faint glow. It wasn’t until the revelers were visible that he realized that the glow wasn’t coming from a torch or magelight but from a person. Emiel Asuna, Impiltur’s most famous aasimar, was drunk off their ass and stumbling along with the help of their imposing bodyguard.
“Yeah, I know!” The tiefling was clearly drunk too, and as they passed Ulysses he got a whiff of what was most likely one of the nicer vintages in the Foxwell cellar. “It’s like- I love you, okay? You’re like, the best person I know.”
“Awwww, Enna!” Emiel leaned their head on Enna’s shoulder in what was either a gesture of affection or a drunken inevitability. “I love you too! And I really am the best person you know.” The two continued down the hallway as Ulysses dismissed his concealment and ducked into the cellar. Well. An illicit love affair certainly explained Emiel’s choice in bodyguard. Ulysses didn’t think very highly of someone for forgoing personal safety for physical attraction’s sake, but he supposed that the nobility were entitled to their foolish quirks. He went to the back of the cellar and began his search for the strongest elven wine he could find. Madison was going to need it to get through this engagement.