Chapter Text
The S.S. Stormborn touches down in Gladeholm five days later, and the timing of its arrival does not go unnoticed by Egwene.
She stops by the airship docks to mess up Erlin’s hair, punch Bev in the shoulder, and say hello to Moonshine, but successfully slips away before anyone has the chance to ensnare her in conversation — or, god forbid, party planning.
She scales an apartment building at the edge of the city and moves silently across the rooftops with a practiced stride, ducking behind loose siding and conveniently-located ventilation shafts in order to keep out of sight of the streets below.
There is a building on the eastern corner of the Gladeholm University of Arcane Arts and Sciences that has three distinct benefits to it: it’s tall enough so that you can look out and see most of the city from its roof, it has a railing along the edge of it that’s the perfect height for sitting and staring moodily off into the distance, and, most importantly, it’s not currently on the radar of Lucanus’s new security pigeons. The pigeons are not very effective, but they're incredibly annoying. Plus, they'll confiscate her cigarettes; smoking is strictly prohibited on university grounds.
Egwene swings her legs over the side of the railing and lets them dangle out into the empty air below. Down in the courtyard, she can just barely make out the shapes of students walking to and from their afternoon classes. She tilts her head up to the sky and watches the clouds cast gentle shadows over Gladeholm.
“Stupid fucking good weather,” she mutters to herself, suddenly irritated that the atmosphere refuses to match her stormy mood. She reaches over her shoulder to pull an arrow out of her quiver and watches dispassionately as the tip of it bursts into flame. “Stupid fucking lousy rotten birthdays.” She touches the tip of her cigarette to the fire, then takes a sullen drag and exhales a dark ring of smoke out into the air.
On the day that Egwene became a Green Knight, Scoutmaster Denny gave her a silver pocket watch with the sign of Pelor engraved onto the back of it. “I’m just saying, you were late to every single Green Teen meeting we had this year!” He’d reached up to pat her on the shoulder, even though she was a full head taller than he was. “I know you’re the youngest graduate in Green Teen history, but there’s always room for improvement! Remember the thirty-seventh page of the Green Teen handbook: a good Green Knight is always early, never late, and never surly!” Denny had flashed her what he probably thought was a winning smile. “That’s three exciting new things that you get to work on! Let’s get to it, campers of the light!”
Later that afternoon, Egwene had taken a hot air balloon to the edge of Galaderon and thrown the pocket watch into the sea. She’s stubbornly refused to purchase another timepiece since then, so she has no idea how much time passes as she sits silently on the edge of the building, pulling on her cigarette and watching the students move about their day in the courtyard below.
Suddenly, Egwene feels the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Electricity jolts up her spine as she realizes that her body is reacting to the almost imperceptible noise of the roof-access door swinging open behind her.
Egwene leaps to her feet. Balancing precariously on the edge of the railing, she draws her bow, knocks an arrow, and spins around to aim it at the door in one practiced, fluid motion. She freezes on the spot, however, when she finds herself staring down the arrow shaft at the equally startled face of Hardwon Surefoot.
He’s holding the Queenshammer in one hand, but that doesn’t stop him from immediately raising both of his arms above his head as if he’s been caught in a stick-up. Several seconds of silent gawking tick laboriously by, until Hardwon finally gives her a hesitant wave that she does not return.
“How did you find me?” Egwene demands incredulously.
He shrugs. “Wasn’t looking for you.”
She narrows her eyes. “Then why are you here? No one comes up here but me.”
“I got lost.”
Egwene grumbles and drops back down onto the ledge, dumping her bow and a pile of cigarette ash into her lap. “This blows. I’m the unluckiest person in all of Bahumia.”
"Don't feel too bad. Pretty sure I used up all the luck in Bahumia a long time ago.” Hardwon offers her a conciliatory grin from beneath his beard. The expression is so earnest that Egwene feels her shoulders relax a little bit, almost involuntarily.
“Can I get one of those?” Hardwon gestures at the pack of cigarettes resting on her hip. She plucks one from the box and tosses it across the roof to him, and he catches it easily in one hand. “Haven’t tried this before,” he mumbles as he gingerly raises his finger to the butt of the cigarette.
Egwene watches as Hardwon Surefoot, legendary Titan of Bahumia, furrows his brow in intense concentration until a tiny, candle-like flame finally flickers to life at the tip of his finger. Hardwon grins triumphantly, then raises the cigarette to his mouth and takes the biggest huff that Egwene has ever seen.
“Take smaller breaths, you idiot!” she yells as Hardwon chokes like a cat trying to dislodge a hairball. “Forget it, put it down! Just put it down!” The violent hacking continues, and she briefly wonders whether or not accidentally suffocating one of the legendary titans would count as a litigable offense in Gladeholm.
The coughing fit eventually subsides, however, and Hardwon regains enough of his dignity to look back up at her through swollen, red-rimmed eyes. “Y’know, I wasn’t lying about not looking for you, but I’m glad that I accidentally found you.” He wipes his eyes and stands back up, clearing his throat. “Bev and Erlin have been going back and forth for at least an hour about whether or not it’d be better to stay put and give you your space or to gather a full-on search party and go looking for you. If you keep hiding from them much longer, I’m pretty sure their little heads will explode.”
Egwene feels the hot, unpleasant sensation of guilt creeping up into her throat. She swallows hard and scowls. “A few more hours of waiting won’t kill them.”
Hardwon raises his eyebrows and makes a noncommittal noise. “You can do whatever, but Erlin’s been waiting a little longer than just a few hours to talk to you.”
Her heart sinks into her stomach and her fingers tighten around the bow laying in her lap. “What did he tell you,” she mutters. It’s more of a demand than a question.
Hardwon sighs and leans back against the doorframe. “He mentioned that you told him you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday.” He runs a hand through his beard. “Kid was inconsolable for a little while, but Bev managed to cheer him back up.”
“Why does he care what I do on my birthday?” Egwene retorts defensively. “Besides, I didn’t say anything to make him think it was his fault.” She swings her feet back over the ledge so that her back is facing Hardwon, taking a deep, angry drag of her cigarette that nearly sends her into her own coughing fit.
“Relax. I didn’t mean it like that.” She hears the sound of Hardwon’s footsteps moving across the roof in her direction. Metal clanks against stone as the fighter sets his hammer down and leans against the railing, staying a few feet away from her. “He was just upset 'cause he was worried about you. Kept talking about how he hadn’t been keeping in touch well enough, and how he should’ve realized you were having a hard time.”
Egwene can picture Erlin’s blotchy, distressed face clearly in her mind. She imagines him tugging desperately on Moonshine’s overalls and asking if she could teleport him back to Gladeholm, imploring Hardwon to turn the ship around, grabbing Beverly’s hands and looking to him for reassurance and support.
“He shouldn’t have to worry about me,” Egwene mutters. “I’m the older one.”
Hardwon makes a thoughtful noise and scratches his head. “I guess I’m technically an only child, so I wouldn’t know for sure,” he admits. “But I don’t think that’s always how it works.”
Egwene pointedly doesn’t respond, but Hardwon seems comfortable in the silence. He rests his elbows on the railing and looks out across the courtyard, seemingly taking a break from the conversation to drink in the sights and sounds of the University.
"I know for a fact that Bev worries about me and Moonshine all the time," he continues after a while, "Mostly 'cause he sometimes won't shut up about it. And I worry about Jaina sometimes, even though she’s older than me.” Hardwon frowns. “At least, I think she’s older than me. Would I be the same age in half-elf years that I was in human years, or would I be older?”
He starts trying to count on his fingers, a move that is as entertaining as it is completely pointless. This goes on for several minutes until Hardwon finally gives up and looks at her helplessly. “I have no idea how old I am.”
“Ask Lucanus,” Egwene suggests. “He goes nuts for this kind of stuff.”
Hardwon snaps his fingers. “Great idea. I’ll crash one of his classes tomorrow and ask him then.” Then he shakes his head. “But we’re off track. Why don’t you want to celebrate your birthday?”
Egwene sighs bitterly and puts her cigarette out on the side of her boot. “I’m guessing you won’t leave me alone until I answer the question?”
“Right.”
“Fine,” she mutters, throwing her hands in the air. “Fine. I don’t want to celebrate my birthday because I’ve grown out of it, okay?” She glares at him, attempting to hide her growing embarrassment. “Because I’m not a kid anymore, or whatever. Are you happy now?”
“I’m not a kid. I still have birthdays,” Hardwon points out.
She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “That’s… it’s not the same thing. You wouldn’t get it.”
She is overcome with mortification the instant the words leave her mouth. Hardwon chuckles to himself, but there’s no derision behind it. Egwene pulls her hair down to cover the tips of her ears — which she knows are turning red with embarrassment — and turns her head to scowl back out over the courtyard.
Silence washes over the two of them again, and Egwene watches as a small flock of birds circles overhead and begins descending toward the trees on the university grounds.
Birds had been a rare sight in the aftermath of Thiala's cataclysm, but Jolene the Green had reassured everyone that they wouldn’t be gone forever. She’d drawn a small crowd in the Gladeholm public park, resting a hand against one of the old oak trees and speaking encouragingly to the crowd of distraught local ornithologists gathered before her. “The birds will be alright, y’all! They just got no way of knowin’ that it’s safe outside for ‘em now.” She knocked twice on the bark with her knuckles. “Those critters are tougher an’ smarter than we give ‘em credit for. They were able to survive ‘cause they huddled up safe inside their little tree holes, but now that the danger’s passed they’ll eventually start to realize that it’s not so bad out here anymore!” Jolene smiled broadly, and several of the buds on the oak tree unfurled into bloom. “When they do come out again, I think they’ll be real glad that there are hospitable folk like y’all who are waitin’ to welcome ‘em back into the sunshine.”
“You know, I almost didn’t celebrate my birthday last year,” Hardwon says, jerking Egwene suddenly out of her thoughts. “We were in Frostwind at the time. And Gemma…” he sighs heavily. “Well. I’d just lost Gemma. It didn’t feel like the right time for a party, and to be honest, I guess I didn’t really feel like I deserved one.” As he speaks, his hand drifts down to brush the hammer resting at his side. “Anyway. I accidentally let it slip to Moonshine and Bev a couple months later, and they were upset. Moonshine spent half the day cooking up a storm and Beverly tried to decorate our campsite to make it look like Irondeep.” Hardwon quietly laughs to himself. “I still remember what Moonshine said to me that day.” He crosses his arms and pitches his voice in a silly, but slightly uncanny impression of the crick elf. “‘Everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday, Hardwon Surefoot! Now you sit your ass down so I can cook you up a good old-fashioned crick-style birthday cake, and if you so much as open your mouth with the intention of protestin’ then Melora help me, I will shove these sliders in there myself!’
Hardwon drops the act and shoots her a sidelong glance. “So I’m just saying, I might get it a little bit.”
Egwene wraps her arms around knees and refuses to make eye contact with him, but Hardwon continues leaning against the railing and waits patiently for her to respond. She hears him start tapping his fingers against the side of the ledge, keeping time to a melody playing only in his head.
“You saved all of Bahumia from getting destroyed,” she finally mutters. “I’m pretty sure that cancels out any failures.”
“And if you hadn’t been there in Galaderon, Bev and Moonshine might not have even been around to save Bahumia,” Hardwon counters. “That's a pretty big deal. Shouldn’t that cancel out some failures? And if you hadn’t fought the Jubilex, Erlin might not have been around to save us all from Thiala.” He spreads his hands entreatingly. “Look, we could go back and forth forever about which wins should cancel out which failures. I’ve talked to Moonshine and Ol’ Cobb about it at least a hundred times.” Hardwon shakes his head. “Take it from me, saving the world doesn’t make it all go away. But the talking— that helps.”
“How is talking supposed to help me if I have no one left to talk to?” Egwene shoots back bitterly. “I don’t even have any friends my age anymore, since they all fucked off to the Feywild and got old as shit. And— and—“
She feels a lump forming in her throat. Egwene twists her face into a scowl and forces it back down. “And now most of my family is gone, too. Because I was too weak to protect them, I fucking guess.”
Hardwon immediately looks taken aback. “Oh, hey, no. Take it from another guy with dead parents, it… it wasn’t your fault. I was probably about your age back when the whole thing with Asmodeus happened, so you had to have been… what, eleven? Twelve? There’s no way you could have…”
He trails off as Egwene untangles her arms from around her knees. She reaches into the pouch that she always wears around her waist, hidden safely beneath the hem of her sweatshirt, and carefully pulls out the two small bundles of fur tucked inside. She holds them out toward Hardwon without taking her eyes off the ground below.
When he finally speaks again, Hardwon’s voice is very quiet. “Ah. Gunther and Uncle Red.” He lets out a long sigh. For a brief moment the vitality afforded to him by his Titan status seems to leave him, and Hardwon Surefoot suddenly looks very, very tired. “I’m sorry. I forgot that you and Erlin were on the S.S. Stormborn while we were hopping across the planes.”
“Yeah, well. You had a lot of stuff going on. Not surprising that you forgot about all of us back in boring old Bahumia.”
Egwene regrets saying it as soon as she sees the look of guilt on Hardwon’s face. She almost blurts out an apology, but her pride gets the better of her. She stays quiet and meticulously avoids making eye contact.
Hardwon eventually clears his throat awkwardly. “Could I see those for a second?” He holds out his hand hesitantly, gesturing toward the bundles of fur.
Egwene almost says no, but this time her guilt does get the better of her. She slowly extends her fist toward him and gingerly places the clumps into his outstretched palm. Hardwon nods in silent thanks and then holds them up to his face, squinting and studying each one as if trying to memorize the details of them as quickly and as thoroughly as he can.
“I thought we’d have more time to catch up,” Hardwon finally mutters. “I really did.” He shakes his head, then wordlessly passes the bundles back to Egwene.
For the first time during the course of their conversation, Egwene is the one who breaks the silence.
“Everyone always leaves,” she mumbles. She shoves the fur back into her pouch, turns her face away from Hardwon, and wipes her nose on the sleeve of her sweater.
Hardwon lets her words sink in and nods to himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I used to think that, too.” His hand creeps down toward the hammer at his side once again, and he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s kinda why I left Irondeep in the first place. Figured it’d be nice to be the one leaving for a change.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Sorry. I’m not good at this stuff. I’m sure Moonshine would have something cool and wise to say about how death is a natural part of life and all that — so don’t tell her I said this — but I still kind of think it sucks sometimes.” Hardwon rubs his neck awkwardly. “And… I think it also sucks to always be the one who gets left behind.”
For a second, he looks uncomfortable — the face of a man who’s gotten too deep into his own emotions and is considering looking for a way out — but he takes a deep breath and soldiers on. “Doesn’t make it your fault, though. It’s not your fault that Red and Gunther are gone any more than it’s Bev’s fault that his dad ended up in Shadowfell.”
Egwene’s gut reaction is a flash of protective anger. Her first instinct is to climb to her feet and start yelling at Hardwon for even suggesting that Mr. Toegold’s departure could have somehow been Bev’s fault, but she knows that she’d be undermining her own point by doing so.
The anger must have shown on her face for a brief second, however, because Hardwon raises his hands placatingly. “Relax. That’s my point, it wasn’t his fault at all. That kid did everything right, but sometimes you try your best and life just sucks anyway.” Hardwon half-smiles. “Just like Red used to say.”
Egwene stays stiff and silent. Hardwon clears his throat and looks at the ground, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “Look, I know it’s easier to say that it’s not your fault than it is to feel like it’s not your fault. And to be honest with you, I haven’t completely figured that one out yet. But trust me, I’ve built a couple walls in my lifetime—” Hardwon taps the side of his head with his knuckles and smiles ruefully at her, “—and I know that if you keep them up too high, you might end up missing out on some really great people.” He shrugs. “Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and Bev and Moonshine will be gone, and I’ll feel really stupid for saying all of this sappy stuff about them. But I love them, so I trust them enough to stick around.”
Hardwon glances over at Egwene. “It’s just advice. At the end of the day, you can take it or leave it.” He shoots her a lopsided smile. “After all, I’m just some asshole who helped save the world.”
This manages to get a small snort of laughter out of Egwene. Hardwon’s own smile widens into a satisfied grin, then slowly settles back down into a pensive line as his brow furrows thoughtfully.
“You know... Erlin’s pretty much family,” Hardwon finally says. “Kid’s saved my ass twice at this point. That counts as family in my book.” He gives Egwene a hesitant, searching glance. “And you’re his sister. Also, you’re pretty cool. So... you can count as family too. If you want.” For a moment Hardwon looks faintly embarrassed, but he quickly shoots her a crooked thumbs up to cover it up. “And even if you don’t, there’ll always be a bunk waiting for you on the S.S. Stormborn.”
Egwene sits perfectly still. She doesn’t know why she’s doing it, exactly— she’s processing a lot of information, but there’s also a part of her that’s afraid that if she moves, Hardwon will come to his senses and take it all back. Or he’ll burst into laughter, and tell her that he was just messing around.
Hardwon does none of these things. Instead he reaches out and gives her a surprisingly gentle pat on the shoulder. “We’re not going anywhere if you don’t want us to.” He gestures to the pilot’s cap on his head. “Captain’s orders.”
Egwene doesn’t trust herself to speak, and she doesn’t know what she’d say even if she could. She just nods silently, clutching Red and Gunther’s fur tightly in her hands.
Hardwon stands up and dusts off his elbows. “Anyway, I should probably be getting back. Don’t want Bev or Moonshine to waste a spell trying to find me.” He hoists his hammer back up onto his shoulder and turns to leave, but pauses just short of the doorway and glances back at her. “Also. Uh. Don’t tell Moonshine or Bev that I told you about this, but they’re planning a surprise party for you. Tomorrow evening, at the Sitting Duck Inn.”
She stares at him. “Why are you telling me this.”
“You don’t really strike me as the type of person who likes surprises. Consider it an early birthday present.” He scratches his beard. “Plus, I figure it’ll be better for everybody if you know in advance and stick around, instead of bolting for the rooftops at the first sign of confetti.”
Egwene is torn between embarrassment and indignance at having been sized up this accurately. She feels the tips of her ears starting to turn red again. “Okay. Whatever. Fine. I promise I’ll show up, even though surprise parties are super fucking lame.”
Hardwon nods sagely. “Just ignore the ‘surprise’ part and focus on the party. Parties are great.”
He steps into the doorway and turns to give her one last wave. “Catch you later, Egwene. It was nice talking to you.” He taps his captain’s hat once, then tilts his head in the direction of the docks. “Don’t be a stranger.”
Hardwon walks back into the building, leaving Egwene alone with her thoughts on the roof of Gladeholm University.