Chapter Text
Finral had never been unfamiliar with the feeling of loneliness. Even at the tender age of thirteen it was something he knew well, a constant companion so far in his young life.
The loneliness wasn’t new. The fear was.
Not that fear itself was unfamiliar. He knew different brands of it. His past fear had been bred from knowledge of mistakes he made and punishment he would endure. Nothing like this before though. This was fear of the unknown. The fear of not knowing what came next.
Liliane had said in no uncertain terms he was no longer wanted or welcomed in the Vaude household. He had known he wasn’t wanted, but actually being told to leave? Liliane had even asked- no, she told him, to drop the Vaude name. She didn’t want his future exploits, whatever they may be, reflecting on the rest of them.
Finral Vaude was no more.
Roulacase had been his mother’s maiden name. It was one of the few things he knew of her. So he would be Finral Roulacase. It sounded fun too, right? Roulacase was fun. He wanted it to be fun. He needed it to be. To be able to grin and be happy and act like it didn’t bother him. There was already so much horribleness and he was trying his hardest not to drown in it.
Speaking of needs, he also needed to find a place to sleep.
He didn’t have his grimoire yet and as such he lacked any powerful spells to use. All he could do was wander and try to find- well, he didn’t even know what to look for.
A bed and food sounded excellent in theory, but he wasn’t quite sure how to make them reality. He didn’t have money or a way to earn it. That left stealing, which didn’t feel right either. But... he was hungry. He was so, so hungry.
Liliane had shooed him like a fly and there had been little time to pack food. Or clothes. Or anything at all really. She had banished him and given him nothing to lean on. Maybe she did want him dead. Maybe… she’d get her wish.
He’d been trekking for three days at this point, using his tinier portals occasionally to make distances shorter. He wasn’t even sure of the name of this town, just that it was cold and he was tired.
The previous two nights he had slept outside. The first one (still in Tota, back then) was on a bench, the next night was spent on forest grass. Neither had been very comfortable at all.
He was on his third day, heading into his third night and utterly exhausted. The town he’d come across had far colder temperatures than the previous places he’d been. It was snowing for heck’s sake! He could sleep in the snow, but Finral had the feeling that it would be dangerous. He couldn’t recall the exact reasons beyond the common sense of it.
If he didn’t find some place to sleep that was actually shelter, he could even die. Finral reminded himself of this frequently, he needed to. It was the only way he had the courage to do what he did next.
It was an Inn. The prices were written outside. One night was 60 yuls and Finral didn’t have anything at all. He did have a view of a window though, and view was all he needed to make a portal.
So he did.
His guilt was only quelled by the warmth that washed over him as soon as he stepped through the portal. He’d forgotten what it felt like to feel so warm.
He collapsed into the bed. It wasn’t like his bed back home but it was perfect nonetheless. He hadn’t realized how lucky he’d been to have such a nice place to sleep until he no longer did.
Just one night he decided. He wouldn’t even use the blankets, they wouldn’t know he was here. He’d be in and out in a flash. No harm no foul, right?
Finral woke up more comfortable than he had the previous two mornings. The bed was softer, the blanket was warmer, the pillow was fluffier- the blanket! He hadn't meant to use the blanket. Now he had to redo the sheets and make it look like no one had been here- crap! (Actually, technically, he didn't really need to do that at all. It was too late to stop him, the only thing redoing the sheets did was ease his guilty mind).
He wretched himself from the blankets and stumbled, almost falling over. He was hungry. Also thirsty. But that was neither here nor there. He had to redo the sheets, he had to make the bed! Doing his own sheets wasn't something Finral had ever been talented at, but he was still capable. He just wasn't sure of the way they did it in this Inn. His usual way didn't fit it, he needed to examine one of the already made beds. Then he could copy the method.
So, he slowly opened the door hoping to be soundless. On the tips of his toes, he checked into the nearest room with an open door to look at the bed and how it was made. Okay, okay, he could do that. He could totally do that. Now he just needed to tiptoe back and do it- easy, right?
Ah. No.
He turned around and was met face to face with an amused looking woman. Finral, naturally, screamed. He startled so hard his feet fell out from under him and his ass hit the floor. His hands covered his face instantly in shame. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry--- I'll find a way to pay you back for the bed. I'm so sorry- I stole from you. I'm so sorry!" He felt tears gathering in his eyes as guilt surged in his chest. It was stealing in a way he couldn't give back and he felt awful about it. That was her hard earned money and he just took- a sob wrenched from his lips.
Just maybe it was about more than just guilt.
The old woman didn't look angry. Rather, her gaze was soft. She stepped forward and knelt beside him. "You know," she said. "You look far too stressed for someone so young."
His lip trembled. "I'm sorry," he said once more, weakly.
"Okay." She responded calmly but not unkindly. "Then what are you gonna do about it?"
"W-what?"
"I said." Now, she grinned. "What are you gonna do about it? You said you're sorry, right? Make it up to me." She stood up from where she knelt, not someone very tall yet but somehow had a commanding presence.
"I-I don't know how," he confessed, feeling more pathetic by the moment.
Her hand came down to where he sat on the floor. He flinched instinctively in response. Finral didn't know what he had expected, but it wasn't her ruffling his hair.
"We'll figure something out." She told him, and for the first time in a very long time Finral didn't feel so worried. (Well, there was still some wariness, but that was built in at this point. Too deep into his core by now. There was no such thing as trusting someone completely. He was unable to give it. No such thing as 100% trust for Finral Vau- Roulacase. No, he didn't know what that felt like.)
Time moved forward, and for once it didn't drag . It wasn’t like the previous days where every second felt like an eternity. The Innkeeper, her name was Judith, was a good woman. Kinder then Finral had ever seen any adult be before. He kept expecting the turning point where he messed up and she became furious, but it never happened. Not when he spilled a drink, or folded a towel wrong or even stained a sheet! Her patience for him was remarkable. After all, he knew he was someone who tested patience easily. Father and Liliane had said so themselves plenty of times.
Still, Judith remained kind without falter. Even though Finral waited for the other shoe to drop, it never seemed to. He had a room there, free meals, and all he had to do was work. It was something he could do! He was imperfect at it but he kept trying with all the might he could. Plus he liked keeping busy instead of sulking around.
The other employees were kind too. At least... most of them.
There was a single one who always sneered at him. His name was Silvert, and though he didn't say it, Finral always thought he smelled. The man acted like Finral had wronged him in some sort of way. Now, Finral was almost positive he had done something wrong, he always did after all. It was what he was used to. He just didn't know what it was, and for a long time he had been far too scared to ask.
He had been at the Inn for five months when things… changed. Living at the Inn had felt different then the estate had been. Cosier, but not in a 'it's small' way, but in a comfortable way. It was nothing like Finral had ever known in his life before, and he enjoyed it. He was grateful for all Judith had done, giving him this opportunity to have a livelihood as he did.
Time passing didn't sharpen his skills at serving food, but he did get better at cleaning faster as well as talking to the guests in a polite and sociable manner. He was even starting to get some tips! They were tiny, but they made him feel wonderful and very proud of himself.
A grin bared on his face as he looked at the five dollar tip in his hand left from a patron who he'd gotten along splendidly with. It was only when the bill was plucked from his hands the grin distorted into confusion and then annoyance.
"W-what the heck Silvert?" He crossed his arms with a frown on his face. He didn't usually call out Silvert's behavior, usually took it without a fight, but this time Finral knew he did nothing wrong. He had earned that money.
"This," Silvert waved the bill in front of his face. "Is goin’ in Judith's tip jar. God knows she deserves having a twerp like you mooch off her."
In an instant Finral's anger vanished. "Mooch?" His voice was quiet, almost scared to understand.
"You're kidding, you don't know?" Finral shook his head. "Oh oh, kid," Silvert strutted forward, closer to Finral than he'd ever been before. Casually he slung an arm around his shoulders as he spoke, leaning into Finral like he was sharing something secret. "Do you have any idea what it costs? A room? Ya meals?" Again, Finral shook his head.
"It sure ain't what you've been earnin in wages." Silvert told him. It took a moment for Finral to process the implication. He hadn't been paying Judith back for her letting him stay and eat here? He hadn't done enough to pay her back? She was-... was just being kind.
He didn’t earn as much as he took.
"You don't make nearly enough to pay the lady back," Silvert reiterated. "But... you know, I have this job. You might be perfect for it if ya interested. You'd be able to really pay her back with these earnings."
There was not a moment of contemplation. He thought of all Judith had done for him, so much more than anyone ever had before. There was no way Finral could continue taking advantage of her hospitality and kindness. He refused to. "Anything." He said. "Whatever it is, I'll do it!"
Silvert offered a toothy grin. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."