Chapter 34: Compromise
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 34: Compromise
"What's done is done." You get a pair of heavy manacles out from your things. When you were asked by Father Pevrel to bring them along for the trip to Wearmoor, you couldn't have imagined that they'd be used for something like this. Your grimace is absolute. "Unless you can give me something in the Time is takes us to leave through your cell's door."
Renne's wide, verdant eyes are rimmed with red. She doesn't say a word.
There's absolutely no resistance as Father Pevrel patiently takes the manacles from your hands and fastens them around her wrists. The Mother of Fertility is hoisted to her feet. She somehow manages not to shriek in agony, but she's sweating hard enough for Father Pevrel to leer while he get out a bloody gag and shoves it in the traitor's mouth.
The small cell is left behind. While you accompany the pair of clergy down the dungeon's hall, you share a single, grateful look with Father Pevrel. He's leading Renne ahead of him, her arms bound behind her back.
You mouth, 'I trust you.'
He's still sweating, smells once again of old blood, and is half-dragging, half-carrying Renne down the hall, but your friend gives you a small, grateful smile.
'Thank you.'
A short, dank, and dark cell is picked for the priestess of Fertility. Plenty of moss and moisture litters the floor. If for some reason she's barred from any visitors for over a day or more, she'll have some options (if she truly gets desperate).
You still feel incredibly sick, and hand over the keys once more to Father Pevrel. He spares you from having to lock a human behind bars, shoving Sister Schafer into the cell and slamming the door shut behind her.
She hasn't made a single attempt to talk since your ally deduced her intent, but she shouts through her gag as she falls to the floor.
All three of you know that this entire interrogation was made to work against you. You're tired. Tired of being manipulated. Tired of being made a fool of. Tired of your righteous anger going nowhere.
You and Father Pevrel turn your backs on Sister Schafer, fully aware that she could still try to invoke at any Time.
It's hard to breathe, and you still feel so full that walking is a pain, but all of your concern is with the man next to you. You ignore the sound of Renne quietly laughing at your back, and murmur, "you really saved my fat ass back there."
He grimaces. "I'm just doing my job— and you shouldn't talk about yourself like that. We're still in the house of your Goddess."
Quickly glancing at you, Father Pevrel seems to confirm that you're in fair enough condition to practically jog down the corridor. He stares dead-ahead, assuming a demonic pace. "I talked to Her about it, you know. Agriculture. What She's been doing to you."
It feels like all the heat in your body goes to your face. You were going to ask the man why he's been so upset since speaking with your lover, but this is...
"She wasn't happy about it." Another, quick glance to you. "She knows you're unhappy, but She can't seem to help Herself. I wasn't surprised— this is the embodiment of Poison we're talking about— but it still wasn't what I expected." He murmurs, "I was hoping that She would have some say in the matter. It seems like both of you are slaves to your desires, Anscham, and I don't want any lives ruined in the process."
He's not wrong. He's so right that you can hardly look at him.
That scowl just keeps getting worse. "Having my verdict overturned by a Goddess is grounds to lose my position. I don't know if Agriculture was aware of it when She gave me the order, but this not only threatens my legitimacy as the leader of the Church of Vengeance. I will lose a GREAT deal of respect from some of my men, and it also places the Church of Vengeance in a lower standing than the Church of Agriculture."
It looks like Father Pevrel is hurting himself with how deep his frown is. "I am NOT calling upon Vengeance to contradict Agriculture's word. I will respect Her will, as I have ALWAYS respected this Church. But when word of this gets out, there will be newfound animosity between our Churches." The fact that he's referring to the Church of Agriculture as yours is really something, but you aren't given Time to contest it. "I can try to put a stop to it, but people will talk. People will try to take the higher ground. There will be sides to this ruling, and the the fact that so much chaos will result from Agriculture shielding just ONE of Her priestesses is disappointing, Anscham."
He stares at you. Hard. "How you live your life and how you worship Agriculture is up to you, but I swore to help you get into better shape. I shouldn't have left you alone down here today. Not with your history. What did you do while I was gone?"
You grit your teeth. "You don't want to talk at all about how to resolve the issues that Sister Jolland has caused? Will cause?"
"Not right now. I put a few things in motion during your meeting— and do NOT worry about what right now. Anything further is going to require more of my attention, and we have more pressing issues to deal with. We will get to the matter. Right now, I want to focus on what's going to keep you from fighting. Now answer the fucking question. You looked like a disaster when I came back for you." He glances over you. "A little better now, but you still look like you've been through the ruins."
You try smoothing out your hair (to no avail), straighten your robes (you're certain your undershirt is riding up underneath), and wipe some of the old sweat off your brow.
"Better." Father Pevrel is really trying to be respectful. He stares at you with a lot more patience than usual.
"I drank for about an hour," you mutter.
"And?"
Lifting your eyes from the floor, you firmly say, "and spent another hour trying to work off this weight as fast as I'm gaining it."
The Lord of Judgement drags a hand over his face, smearing a little dried blood into his beard shadow. A long, exasperated breath leaves him. "You know that exercise isn't the problem, right? You push yourself harder than any man I've ever met. Father Friedrich included."
"I—" You try not to sound too flattered. "Really?"
"His routine is more regular, but your work ethic puts his to shame, Anscham. I imagine if you had another four months under him, the world wouldn't be able to stop you."
There's hope in your heart. "I know that if I can regain Flesh's favor—"
"I just told you that the problem is NOT how often you work out, or how hard." The look that Father Pevrel gives you is so cutting, it feels like someone's stabbed you in the chest. "It's what you're putting in your body. THAT is why you have made progress this month. The exercise would have been for nothing if Father Wilhelm and I didn't intervene with your diet, and you didn't abstain from invoking Agriculture." He pinches the bridge of his nose. It obviously pains him to talk about it. "...or summoning Her."
"I know drinking is a problem. I know Agriculture is biased towards— towards stuffing me, and upping my weight." Acknowledging the problem doesn't seem to make your ally feel any better. It's likely because he's already heard most of this before.
Your resolve has never been greater. You declare, "I have a compromise."
Father Pevrel doesn't give you any sass. The priest seriously seems like he wants to be here for you for this. He stays quiet, and respectful, and the sight of him acting so sober keeps you completely on the level.
"I know that my behavior has been alarming. I want to show my devotion to Flesh— and I will, even if my body isn't up to his standards right now—" Not even a pair of enchanted robes can mask how heavy you are. Your focus isn't on the swell of your stomach or the breadth of your arms, though. The gold and green is what you really care about."—but I also have Mercy and Agriculture to think about."
There's an entire pantheon's worth of plans brewing, but you're going to stay focused. You're not going to focus just on the fact that today has set you back— and this is not about self-pity, or binging, or abuse of any kind.
"So I— I would like to do something that can balance my love of food, and my desire to lose weight."
He's smirking and only teasing, but Father Pevrel can't help but comment, "that truly sounds like a miracle, Anscham."
You smile a little to the dungeon's floor, even though your stomach blocks some of your view. You can deal with a little teasing. It's fine. This idea has you in far too good of a mood to care.
"I would like to try to eat less meat. Normally, I would vehemently be opposed to this kind of restriction. To restrict meat is to restrict half the deliciousness that has been offered to us—" The look that Father Pevrel is giving you is pretty unpleasant. It's obvious that he's trying to gauge just from a glance how much bigger you look, and also seems to think that something is wrong with you mentally. But there is nothing wrong with you. This is the healthiest attitude you've had towards Agriculture in a very long time. Possibly ever. "—but shifting towards fruits and vegetables would allow me to..."
Every gear in your head is turning. This thought may have come out of left field, but this is an opportunity for even more growth.
I might have had a decent breakfast, ate during the entire summoning and put away several liters of liquid this afternoon...
But what if that was all fruit?
I could get away with several hundred grapes.
Forget a single sitting of binging.
I could spread it out through an entire day.
Your smile gets a little broader. "...I could still pig out without sabotaging myself."
The priest beside you exaggerates a groan. He knows you're right.
You lift your eyes to your friend. "This is why it will work."
"I hate it when you're right." He's almost smiling.
"I talked with Tybalt about this. He gave me the idea to give more to others. This could also apply to anything from an animal that I'm given." Your voice lifts higher. "It's like he said— feeding others is also a form of worshiping Agri. Please don't look at me like that. I— I won't even have to give up fishing! And with my flask..."
The small item weighs a little against your chest. You can't help but feel how much cushion there is between your heart and the small, well-worn gift. You pat it lovingly anyways.
Thank you, Yech.
The habits you have are not the fault of your friends— but the opportunities they've presented are.
You keep your gaze on Father Pevrel, radiating determination and sincerity. "...it will be easy enough to maintain this sort of diet."
"You're really serious about this." Father Pevrel hasn't slowed his pace for an instant, even though he knows how uncomfortable you are. The urgency that you both are moving with has brought you to the end of the dungeon in no Time at all.
"You and Father Wilhelm have helped me make incredible progress in the month it took to get to Wearmoor, and I won't be removing meat from my diet completely. It would be a challenge to maintain my muscle, otherwise."
The Lord of Honor nods several times. "Yeah. Well. You're right."
"I would still like your help."
"You know this is ridiculous? Do you know how absurd this idea is? Most men would be going in the opposite direction, Anscham. You're throwing away a good portion of your wealth and influence in the public eye. People are going to think you're crazy. Just think of what a stink is going to be raised at the first feast you attend with this attitude."
He knows how to make you smile. "That's never stopped me before."
Striding ahead of you, Father Pevrel unlocks the exit, trying to hide his smile. A look is cast to the light at the end of the tunnel. "You know I don't mean any disrespect towards Agriculture, right?"
"Right." You're let out of the dark and dank space, back into the warm and well-lit Church. You can't get up the steps quickly enough. "I completely understand why you were so upset."
"Am so upset." The priest's scowl is back in full force. "We've wasted far too much Time, and you're in terrible shape to get around the city with any discretion. May all the Gods help us if you need to go running anywhere today."
An even brisker pace is assumed, in a bee-line towards the meeting room. The two of you speak in hushed voices, ignoring the stares and whispering you're getting from every group of clergy you pass by. Father Pevrel occasionally glares at one of the groups, just to get them to stop looking out of fear.
He somehow keeps a perfect grimace when he leans over to you and asks, "what are we doing about Tightbutt?"
You can't help but laugh. "You shouldn't call him that."
"I'll call him whatever the fuck I please. Particularly until he earns my respect, which is not happening at this rate." His composure cracks at how goofy your smile is. "Look, you have a meeting to get to. Do I need to babysit?"
"I— I would appreciate your counsel."
Your comment nets a rare, sincere, and wholesome smile out of him. "Of course you do."
A quick glance is made around the Church. A nearby priest who is watering an outcropping of shrubs pretends like he didn't see the Lord of Blood walking with a friend, which is good enough for Father Pevrel.
Your mentor in Vengeance whispers, "normally, I would suggest that you do something like this alone. A group could come across as an attempt at intimidation. Bringing other people into the affair could also betray the trust of your informant, who may be under the impression that this information and meeting was to remain discreet."
He's intentionally not using any names, but you know well enough that bringing along a group to meet Tathan's contact could destroy what little trust the priest has in you.
"Given the circumstances, I think it would be unwise to take the Time to split up." His smile is totally gone. "Did you learn anything about this contact? Anything we can do to smooth things over with him, if we offend him right out the gate?"
"Not much, other than that— other than that he holds his father in high esteem."
"Good thing we know the most well-connected man in the city, then. We'll get with Brother Townsend on anything he might know about this man."
After walking for several more minutes, Father Pevrel sneers at the roses you pass by.
His continued distaste for growth baffles you. "What do you have against flowers...?"
"Not flowers, Anscham. The arrangement." The man turns up his nose, scoffing in all seriousness. "For a Church that's so obsessed with food, you would think that someone here would have taste."
It's easy to forget that this man has a life back at home, and that a part of it is a love for interior decorating.
You do everything in your power not to laugh. "Thank you so much for all of your help."
He shakes his head. "Don't mention it. Really."
You elbow him. "We make a pretty good team."
"...yeah. Well." He doesn't deny it, though he makes a show of dusting off the spot where you touched him. Both of you smile a little as you walk ahead. "We'll see how far that takes us today."
>A] Ask Father Pevrel to keep an eye on Tybalt. Father Wilhelm can stay with them to mediate. The Seer of Somerilde will likely be able to predict when you'll be able to reconvene, and more importantly, you can hopefully stay more discreet while alone. (Traveling in disguise is far easier for you than it is for your companions.)
>B] Ask Father Pevrel to keep an eye on Tybalt. You'll try to arrange for the smoothest way to meet back with your friends. Father Wilhelm should come with you when you meet The Source. His people skills are without compare, and you figure that the priest's knowledge of illicit substances will help smooth things over with the drug peddler.
>C] Ask Father Wilhelm to keep an eye on Tybalt. They have no problem with each other that you're aware of, and you'll try to arrange for the smoothest way to meet back with your friends. Father Pevrel should come with you when you meet The Source, even though his presence will make some people VERY uncomfortable. You make one hell of a team, and you're sure that between the two of you, you can make quick work of the situation.
>D] Ask everyone to come with you to the meeting. Father Pevrel's presence will make some people VERY uncomfortable, and the presence of so many people could totally sabotage any attempts at diplomacy or secrecy, but your collective strengths are worth the extra effort— which will be significant. More importantly, you don't want to waste a single second reconvening with your allies (which is inevitable, once you split up).
>E] Before you return to the council, there's something you'd like to talk to Father Pevrel about. (Write-in.)
>F] This might be your last opportunity to talk to the council for some Time. There's something else you'd like to do, or someone else you'd like to speak with. (Write-in.)
Last edited:
