Dinner With a Paladin

Erica wasted no time in cutting a path to cross the distance to the food, leaving John and Adelle to follow in her wake. Much like Frank, and to John's initial distaste, Erica did not excuse and pardon her way through the crowd. Instead, she cleared the way almost through sheer **** of will, or a stiff arm when that wasn't sufficient, muscling her way to her destination. John grimaced as he tailed his mentor, but came to a realization as Adelle pulled ahead of him, following Erica's example. Looking around, he saw the same process several times over as people worked their way across the room. Erica wasn't bullying her way through, it was simply the way one got around down here.

Try as he might to follow suit, John's non-confrontational instincts got the better of him and he found himself unable to commit enough to be effective. With a sigh, he reverted back to his tried and true tactic of slinking his way through the mess like some sort of awkward ferret. It was slow going but less stressful and got him where he wanted to be all the same.

"Is this place always so damn crowded?"

"During the dinner rush?" Erica shrugged. "More or less. Hard to turn down a free home-cooked meal, don't you think?"

"The Order's knights aren't treated like mundane employees," Adelle said with no small hint of pride. "We have each committed our lives to a task greater than ourselves. The Order rewards our dedication with admirable hospitality."

John turned around and looked out across the small sea of faces again. For the first time, he realized the sense of camaraderie shared between them. The mess hall didn't match the feel of a cafeteria full of classmates bundled together by age, or even athletes looking to make a name for themselves on a sports team. There was something else at play between them. Maybe it was a product of working together for years, maybe it was due to some deeply ingrained indoctrination, or maybe, just maybe, Adelle wasn't being hyperbolic when she said they served a greater purpose.

"Huh." John planted his hands on his hips. "Color me impressed."

"You two have a nice chat," Erica said, walking off. "I'm going to get myself some food."

"You don't have to tell me twice," John said. His starvation awoke once more upon being reminded, and his body compelled him to satisfy it. He about-faced and headed directly for the rear of the hall.

The cooking pits radiated warmth out to several yards before John reached them. Genuine wood fires burned both uncovered and in stone ovens, behind a serving counter staffed by several cooks in white chef's jackets. Dripping grease sizzled atop burning embers and filled the area with a savory aroma while the smoke wafted up to be collected by several soot-stained chimney vents. Massive slabs of roast beef rested in front of flames that licked at the rotisserie chickens spinning lazily above. Roasted veggies of all kinds rested in large woks, with fresher greens kept safe from the heat at a bar off to the side. Lastly, the whole serving area was flanked by two sets of three kegs the size of cows, conveniently labeled as water, cider, and... wine?

I guess Christopher wasn't kidding about the drinking age.

John hastily assembled a plate of meat, potatoes, and veggies before hitting the keg tap for a mug full of warm cider. As much as he was curious about the wine, John decided that the risk of getting drunk in front of Moira and saying something stupid wasn't worth it. He hit a brief snag in wondering how he would safely snake through the crowd with his hands full of food, but realized that was only a problem for people without an inventory. He looked back at the serving counter as he tucked his food safely away, took a moment to think, then turned around to grab a second plate before returning.

He arrived in time to see Adelle already seated across from Moira and Erica approaching. John assumed that it was probably good manners to sit on the opposite side as the Warden and made his way next to his training partner. Erica, on the other hand, casually tossed her food onto the table and vaulted it with one hand to claim a seat next to the Paladin without even spilling a drop of her drink. Even Moira was taken aback in surprise, but she said nothing as Erica sat down and took a swig from her mug. John could see a blush of jealousy on Adelle's face before she gained the composure to hide it, probably because she wished it was her seated next to the esteemed Warden of the Golden Rose.

"So, do all of these people live at the manor?" John asked.

"Would a 'Hello' be too much to ask, Newman?" Moira groaned. "But to answer your question: No." A faint smile began to form on her face in defiance of her agitation. "That doesn't prevent many from stopping by during mealtime, however, and we are happy to accommodate them."

"Some people volunteer to live and serve here year-round," Erica said, "but most knights are on a rotation, they're only stationed here a few months at a time."

"We do the same in Germany." Adelle nodded. "Understandably, not everyone wishes to spend their entire lives in the Abyss. It does us no good to completely disconnect from the mundane world."

"That's pretty nice, actually," John said. Considering Adelle's behavior and observe window, however, it was the opposite sort of sentiment he would have expected to hear from her. "So what about you? Where do you live?"

"Ah, well…" Adelle looked aside, unprepared for the question. "I live here. I am used to Abyssal life. Were I left to find my own lodgings in the city, I must admit that I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"That's fair, I guess." John shrugged. "Erica?"

"Same." Erica's lips tightened. "Let's just call it 'special circumstances' and leave it at that, yeah?"

"Uh," John faltered at the sudden brusqueness. "Yeah, sure."

John stuffed a fork full of potatoes in his mouth before he could shove his foot in there. It was an unexpected burst of flavor, and John followed it up with a second bite just as soon as the first was swallowed. The cut of meat was almost as good as his mother's cooking, slightly charred but juicy and tender, and the cider was surprisingly but pleasantly spiced. He chided himself internally for neglecting to grab another mug.

Light conversation followed as the group ate. John didn't say much at first, he wasn't used to group chatter, but neither did Moira. She observed for the most part, either unable or unwilling to drop her imperious demeanor. Either way, Erica more than made up the difference with a little help from Adelle. John finished his plate first and raised a few eyebrows when he pulled his second course out of his inventory.

"I have to assume that somebody is magic'ing this food into existence, otherwise you guys would eat half the state's chickens in a month," he said.

"Not exactly," Adelle replied. "Magic helps sustain an otherwise impossible rate of production, but all of the food is very real."

"Don't tell me that you guys have a Barrier dedicated specifically to raising livestock," John said.

"I call it the 'Meat Dimension,'" Erica confirmed through a mouthful of beef stew.

"Jesus Christ." John rubbed his forehead. He wasn't sure how to feel about the implication of a Barrier full of factory farms, but the thought of it was almost dizzying.

"It's an ecologically mindful way of maintaining a standing army," Moira said with a hint of reproach.

"Seems like the kind of thing that could really help out all of those starving children in Africa I keep hearing about," John quipped. Moira sighed.

"We've helped establish such Barriers in areas of the world that suffer from famine," she said, "but between the manpower required, regional forces that want to keep the local populace starving, and the resulting distribution that borders on espionage, maintenance is a logistical nightmare. I wish we could do more, truly."

Knowing that the magical excess of food was being used in some way, however ineffectively, towards actually helping people in need set John's stomach more at ease. He even sympathized with Moira's regret - to an extent. Maybe it would be possible to do more if the Order wasn't doing things like shipping mansions across the world and buying fancy motorcycles, but John decided not to point that out.

"It all tastes very good," Adelle said by way of changing the subject. On that, John could agree.

"It really does," he said. "But it can't be as good as a gourmet meal from whatever master chef you have on your payroll. Why come eat down here?"

Both Erica and Adelle stopped eating and shot John harsh looks that could best be translated as 'Are you fucking serious?' and 'How dumb are you?' respectively. The question had come out without him thinking, but now that he had said it, John decided to stubbornly stick to it and did not offer a wince of apology. His boldness surprised even him. Even more surprisingly, Moira did not explode or freeze solid in response.

"A commander should know her soldiers, and they should know her. I don't want to be the sort of leader who only appears to give orders," Moira said, a canned answer. Erica's explanation had suggested as much, but it was something else to see Moira say it herself. It was another thing entirely to hear her continue. "And say what you will, but sometimes one gets tired of night after night of fine dining. The atmosphere is completely different, too. You might not be surprised to learn that dinner with my father is not a casual affair. The knights are a little boisterous, but they are happy in a way that fills me with pride. To be completely honest, I would eat here more often, were I able."

Erica's mouth hung open after Moira's lengthy confession, unseen by the Warden as she once again surveyed the men and women under her command. Adelle and John were likewise stunned to receive such a candid answer. For John's part it wasn't just her honesty and humility that struck him, it was the expression on her face as she spoke. Even now as she watched over the room, her face showed the pride she proclaimed to feel, but John had a gut instinct that something else lay beneath. There was a brief moment of transition before Moira became as unreadable as when John had first entered the room, a fraction of a second where he could catch her eyebrows knit ever so slightly and her lips press together.

"Uh," John fumbled to get the conversation back to a more or less normal state. Why that responsibility fell to him, he didn't know, but he chose to accept it. "Kinda like how sometimes you just want Taco Bell, even though you have ingredients to make legit tacos at home, huh?"

"Something like that, I suppose," Moira said, refocusing her attention. "I… wouldn't know. I've never had it."

"WHAT!?" John shouted and smacked the table loud enough to turn heads. The small gathering around the Warden had already drawn some attention, and John's outburst assured that he was the center of it. Erica burst into laughter as John shrunk back in his chair and offered a small, "Sorry."

"It's not my fault!" Moira blushed a deep red as whatever austere exterior she had been rebuilding imploded. For once she actually looked to John like a peer and not the stuck-up, wealthy heiress he had seen so many times in the halls at school.

"I have not had Taco Bell before either, for your information," Adelle said, trying to take some of the pressure off her Warden.

"That's different, you're from Castle Schturgenwhateverstein, Germany," John said. "Moira lives here, we go to the same school! There's like, five of them in town. I passed two on the way here!"

"Excuse me!?" Adelle looked appalled, now also red in the face. "Castle what??"

"No, no," Erica hushed. She was clearly relishing in the embarrassment of the trio around her. "John's got a point, I want to hear this."

"I have no need to explain myself, Newman!" Moira huffed. "My eating habits are none of your concern. And to think this is the thanks I receive for offering to share a meal with you both. Were I my father, I would have you both thrown from the hall. That includes you, Erica!"

"All I'm saying is that you're missing out on something amazing," John said. "Greasy trash tacos make the world go 'round."

"I sincerely doubt that," Moira said. "I fail to see how deliberately eating low quality food would benefit anyone."

"You'd think that, but…" Erica trailed off, offering John a nod of agreement.

Despite her indignation, Moira never followed through with her threats. Erica continued to egg her on while Adelle tried in vain to cut in and turn attention back to John's bastardization of German. He did his best to dodge her offense under the shield of irreverence until she gave up in frustration. The conversation took several turns from there, shifting over the course of the next half an hour until they were arguing about the value of learning trigonometry in high school over empty plates.

John was content to listen for the most part, and it was when he was doing so that he realized their little gathering had finally started to carry the same atmosphere as the room around them. He noticed a few knights turning to look their way every now and again, only to mutually glance aside the moment their eyes met. Some had even slid their chairs a bit closer to hear the conversation better, slowly tightening the empty circle around them.

"-ohn? Hey, Earth to John, you there?" Erica waved a fork in front of him. "Pay attention, we're leaving."

"Uh, sorry. I kinda got lost in thought," he admitted. "Did everyone get tired of talking about numbers and triangles?"

"I don't think any of us actually wanted to in the first place." Erica smiled. "Sometimes it's just about taking a stand."

"Riiiiight." John noticed Moira and Adelle beginning to stack plates and gather utensils. "Let me get that," he said as he reached out, tapping each piece of their dinnerware in turn and pulling them into his inventory. His fingertips brushed against Moira's as he grabbed hers, and he froze on the spot.

"Oh," Moira pulled back, almost immediately falling back into her more disciplined manner. "Thank you," she said through her surprise, clearing her throat. "If you don't mind, you can leave them in the wash basin over there."

"Got it," John answered and jogged off as directed, more fleeing than anything. His heart had skipped a beat at the momentary contact, as all of the sudden he was reminded of Moira's station above him in school, here, and the world at large. It was a wonder he was able to share a comfortable dinner with her at all, when now all he could think of was how completely out of place he felt. Whatever had overcome him was gone, and he was back to feeling meek, awkward, and uncomfortable. It persisted as they met back up at the entrance.

The four parted ways at the top of the same staircase Erica had led John to earlier. Moira thanked the others for their company and departed in an uncharacteristic hurry. The remaining three set out back outside, where Erica hitched a thumb at a squat building nearby, tucked out of sight from the main entrance.

"Get some rest, Dell," Erica said, "because I'm going to drill your ass off tomorrow."

"Yes, Dame Carpenter!" Adelle snapped to attention. "It was nice to meet you, John. Goodnight."

"You too, goodnight" John returned before Adelle marched off into the moonlit evening. He turned back to Erica, "She's nice."

"A little stiff, but yeah." Erica smiled, watching her apprentice go.

"I wasn't gonna say it, but if you are…"

"Ah ah," Eric waved a finger, "no one said you were allowed to trash talk my Squire. Don't make me train you into the dirt too."

"But you just-" John wanted to retaliate, but deflated. "Yeah yeah, she's a model student in every way."

"That's better." Erica slapped an arm over John's shoulders and led him towards the front of the manor. "Now call yourself a cab, I'll wait with you until it gets here."

"Alright." John shrugged. "I'm a cab."

-3 hp

John spent the next twenty minutes nursing the new bruise on his shoulder, sitting on the steps leading to the front door while making smalltalk with Erica. They exchanged numbers as well, bringing the amount of contacts in John's phone up to a whopping five.

"You know, today really did not go how I expected it to," he said.

"Same, dude." Erica offered him a smile. "But you did good, in more ways than one."

"For real, or are you just flattering me?"

"Don't let it get to your head," Erica smirked. "I think you should work on walking a little further away from the razor's edge."

"Hey, it's not like I like it!" John griped. "I just keep winding up there. It doesn't help when my teacher throws a defective, exploding rock monster at me."

"Have a little faith, I know what I'm doing," Erica laughed. "I'd have stepped in if you were in real danger."

"Uh huh." John rolled his eyes. "My mana-fried brain thanks you."

Soon enough, a set of headlights rolled towards the gate and signaled an end to John's evening at Brighton Manor.

"That's my ride. See you later, coach," John said. "And thanks."

"You might feel differently after next time, but you're welcome." Erica grinned and grabbed John's hand with a firm shake. He was just about to reach the car when she called out, "Oh, hey!"

"Yeah?"

"I forgot to mention, I liked your answer!"

"What answer?"

"To my last question."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" John shouted back before opening the car door. Erica offered no further clarification, only a laugh and a wave goodbye. John shook his head and ducked inside.