(2025-07-03) For the Love of Little Green Apples

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Author:	Jessa
Summary:	Ismene Hazan has a proposition for Arric Falrevere. A BUSINESS proposition.
Rating:	T for Teen

The day is hot. Is there much more to say? Sunlight melts down between the trees, creating pockets of golden heat between patches of deep shade. This afternoon is not a great time to go for a horseback ride, but there's Ismene Hazan anyway, trotting on her patchwork gelding. The gelding certainly doesn't look happy about it, but who can tell when a horse is happy-trotting? The pair leave the well-worn road and turn up the path to a pretty cottage, now much less battered by time and bandits than it had been.

It's the apple trees that have Mizzy's main attention, so much so that her horse begins a turn toward them. "Oops," she mumbles, giving the reins a little tug to put the horse back on track.

A brown-haired boy of about nine years old sits under an apple tree, near a ladder that leans against the trunk. On the ladder, a bottom of a pair of overalls is visible, the rest of its occupant hidden by leaves. The boy jumps up and bangs on the ladder, and a middle aged woman descends it quickly, looking slightly alarmed.

When she spots the nice young lady riding closer, she relaxes and simply gives a wave of greeting.

Ismene smiles and returns the wave. Her brow knits a little as she eyes the woman. "Mrs. Beldum?" she asks uncertainly. She swings down from her horse.

The woman's eyes widen in recognition. "Lady Ismene!" she says with an awkward curtsey that does not really work in overalls. Her eyes look a little misty. "By the Light, I didn't think I'd ever lay eyes on you again! What a blessing to see you looking so well! Do you know Milord Arric?"

"We've met," she says. "Oh goodness, I didn't know you'd gotten out!" Ismene steps away from her horse to hug the woman. "I'm so happy to see you!"

Mrs. Beldum hugs her tight, squinching her eyes shut, and then pulls away, reddening with embarrassment.

"Conover, say hello," she snaps at her son.

"H'lo," he says sulkily without getting up from his seat in the shade. Mrs. Beldum looks like she's about to make a Thing of it, but then doesn't. She turns back to Mizzy.

"Your lord husband is well I hope? Keeping safe in these terrible times? I heard you lot killed Deathwing; everyone's saying it."

"Hello, Conover," Mizzy says, hiding a smile. Teenagers, man.

"Ben was in the thick of it, of course, but I was simply serving in the infirmary. He's well! All except for his hair, which is growing back after an incident with… a fire elemental." A really big one. But no need to brag.

"Is Lord Falrevere around? I have a present and a question for him."

"He's inside grooming Rica I think," Mrs. Beldum says. "Don't mind the wolf near the house, she's chained. All she can do is snarl, if you stay on the path. You want Conover to take your horse to the stable?"

She points toward the back of the property, where a sweet looking chestnut mare is stabled two stalls away from an evil-looking white stallion. There are also three empty stalls beside the mare.

"That'd be kind, thank you. It was really too hot to ride, but even hotter to walk. Could you see that he has water as well? He's quite sweet." Mizzy smiles at Conover, who probably won't care.

Conover aggressively doesn't care, or so his face says as he nods, but as he wordlessly takes Mizzy's gelding away toward the stable, it's clear he knows where to stand and how to move so as not to alarm horses.

The path to the house is reasonably well shaded, though it doesn't provide very much relief from the heat. Chained up near an absolutely absurd amount of water is a terrifyingly feral-looking wolf with ragged fur and murder in its eyes. It emits a low, threatening growl as Mizzy gets nearer, but it's at the end of its chain and seems smarter than to lunge against it. The collar around its neck is wide and made of soft leather; the chain hooks into a ring at the back of it.

The door has a knocker in the shape of a bird of prey in flight, a heavy brass ring clasped in its talons.

Mizzy steps carefully to the door, as far from the wolf as she can manage and still reach the knocker. She lifts it and gives it three quick bonks on the door.

The door opens so quickly after the third bonk that Arric must have heard the wolf growling. His eyes light up at the sight of Mizzy, little twin reflections of the summer sky. His sleeves are rolled up, and he is lightly splashed with water. He smells a bit citrusy.

"Lady Ismene!" he says brightly. "What an unexpected pleasure!" He takes her hand - his feels like it has just been hurriedly dried on a towel - and bows over it gallantly. "Please come in out of the heat right away," he adds as he backs up, giving her room to enter. "It's ghastly out there." He yells over his shoulder, "Gerda! A lemonade for the lady?"

In the sitting room behind him, a table about the height of a kitchen counter is set up, and on it stands a washtub, inside of which is a rather large red raptor hatchling with enormous bright blue eyes. There are bubbles in the tub. And on her head.

"Please, you must call me Ismene. Or Mizzy! Ben started calling me that and now everyone who's a friend does." She enters the home with relief, but stops just inside the door to eye the raptor. She snorts then giggles, covering her mouth quickly.

"That's at least three of the most adorable things I've ever seen!" she says.

"That's Rica," Arric says, with the goo-goo eyes of a new father. "Say hello to Mizzy, Rica."

Rica sneezes. Maybe that was hello.

"I hope you don't mind if I finish her grooming while we chat?" Arric says, throwing an apologgetic glance Mizzy's way. "Shouldn't be too much longer. Please make yourself comfortable in the meantime." He gestures to the sofa, which is out of the splash zone, and turns back toward the bath-table. Rica continues to stare at Mizzy, but despite being a baby predator, she looks more curious than threatening.

Arric picks up a little brush and begins scrubbing Rica's scales. Her eyes half close in bliss.

Mizzy perches on the edge of the sofa, crossing her ankles and tucking them neatly to one side. "I don't mind at all. Look how much she enjoys it! It'd take a far crueler person than I to deny her such bliss." She watches them for a moment.

"How on earth did you come to own such an adorable baby?"

"I was part of a Cobalt team doing some work in Stranglethorn," he says, "and we came upon her egg just as it was hatching. I was the first person she saw, and I suppose she imprinted on me. Her name is Arric'aka, which means 'daughter of Arric,' but I call her Rica for short."

A gray-haired woman with a flinty stare enters the room and sets some lemonade and ice in front of Mizzy with a plonk. She is clearly not trained in such service. But it's lemonade! And cold. She disappears again immediately into the back.

Arric begins rinsing the bubbles off of Rica and helping her out of the tub onto a nearby folded towel. She is juuuuust on the point of being too big for this whole ritual. He grabs another towel to start vigorously drying and buffing her scales.

"So what brings you to see me today, my friend Mizzy, other than my extreme good fortune?" He glances over and smiles at her warmly.

Mizzy sips her lemonade and sets the mug down carefully. Is it possible she's nervous? "I… had something in the way of a business proposition for you, actually. If you've time for such things." Maybe he doesn't. Maybe she should just go. She shifts in her seat, a little wriggle that might be an abortive move to stand.

For a moment he looks nervous. Just a little flash across his face that looks more like guilt than admonishment.

"Oh?" he says though, encouraging. "Do go on! I'm happy to listening to anything that's on your mind."

"Chrrrrr," says Rica, giving a little hop on the table that nearly upsets the washbasin. Arric hastily lifts her, helping her back down to the floor. She proceeds to run in circles around the sitting room, very fast.

"Er… she'll stop doing that in a moment," Arric says. "She always does that after a bath."

Mizzy watches the raptor go brrrrr. "It's about the orchard. And the apples. The apples more than the orchard, though of course you can't have apples without an orchard! Well, you can, I suppose, but really…." She takes a deep breath. "What I mean to say is that I wondered if you had any plan for the apples?"

"Oh! Well." Arric clears his throat. "They're… not likely to be at prime quality yet… the trees were so neglected for so long, and Mrs. Beldum, she's still learning how to care for them properly. I suppose I thought I'd sell them, once I had any worthy of selling. I'm… I must admit that money management is not my strong suit." He flushes slightly.

"It's mine!" Mizzy's eyes light up. "That is, orchard management and making cider from apples… I was raised learning how to do it all. My parents owned several orchards. Callis Cider? You might not have heard of it, but it's known in some circles. The orchards were in… in Hillsbrad not far from Southshore, and, well…" She hangs her head.

"Yes!" Arric says, moving to sit with her on the couch. He still smells faintly of citrus bubbles, but thankfully not of wet raptor. "I'm an old childhood friend of the Fallons, you know," he says. "Two of my staff - they're from the lands the Fallons lost there. Your family lived there, managed the land, if I'm not mistaken? After the … circumstances there … Fallon had me take on Mrs. Chespin and Mrs. Beldum. I don't have enough space for them to live, so I let them bring their children with them to work."

"We — Ben and I, that is — resettled some women and children ourselves. In Darkshire, so it's not nearly as nice as this." She recovers enough to smile at Arric. "You're terribly kind to take them on. And it's true, my family's orchards were on land owned by the Fallons! What a small world. Now here you are with orchards of your own."

"Nothing so grand as yours were, I'm sure," Arric says, his eyes going a bit wistful. "They must look quite feeble in comparison. But I was lucky to find any land available at all in the area when I got stranded here."

"Not feeble!" Mizzy quickly reassures him. "Just… well, as you say, neglected. Which, if you don't mind, would be where I'd come in." She chews on her lower lip a moment. "I was wondering if you'd let me take over managing them. I'd help see that the trees are brought back to their former glory, and I'm sure we can get some kind of cider out of the apples this fall. Then you sell the apple mash to farmers, you see, to feed pigs or cows."

"Oh! That's very clever! Yes, I imagine you know a great many uses for subpar apples that I hadn't even thought of. It's only…"

It's his turn to squirm.

"I… haven't any way to compensate you just now," he says quietly. He glances around, and lowers his voice. "I'm already concerned that by the end of the year I may have to let some people go. When I left Kul Tiras, you see, I didn't know I needed to bring enough money for… well… forever, potentially. I thought I'd be returning."

His face is quite red now. That ginger complexion, forbidding him any hope of manly dignity.

Mizzy reaches out to rest a hand on his knee. "No, no. I'd do it for free! I just… I miss it so much, working in the orchards. Spring is best, of course, but fall's almost as good and it's just around the corner, really. Summer's all about managing the insects and it's not too late to do some judicious pruning.

"That is, if you'd let me." She takes her hand back awkwardly. Don't touch people on the knee, Mizzy. It's gauche.

Arric looks at her in amazement. "Well of course, my lady! If it would bring you joy, and be a help to a poor exile such as myself, how could we not work together?"

He chases the withdrawn hand, seizing it gratefully. He bends to give it an enthusiastically grateful but nonetheless decorous and gentlemanly kiss before returning it to her.

"I would imagine you could teach Mrs. Beldum so much, as well!" he adds. "She tells me she didn't have as much direct responsibility for the trees before, and she mostly learned from observing others, but even so she's been a tremendous help. Just imagine what she could do with your direct instruction!"

"I'd be happy to teach anyone who wants to learn. There's quite a bit to be done, even by two people. In the fall, we'll want to hire some temporary workers, and I'll take care of that too, don't you worry, and then there're bottles to purchase and labels to make, oh but we have bottles in our warehouse here of course, that I didn't get around to selling." She takes a deep breath. Wow, that was a lot all at once.

She beams at him. "Oh, I can't thank you enough! It's going to be wonderful. And just think how nice your house will smell this winter, with the applewood you'll have to burn!"

Arric smiles warmly at her. "You are a Tide- a Lightsend, La— Mizzy." He's apparently so excited he's forgetting how to say all the things. "Have you spoken of this to your lord husband? I suppose we oughtn't to get too excited until we know if he'll approve, hm?"

Blink. "He'll approve, I'm sure. Why ever wouldn't he? He'll be happy that I'm happy, that's all he'd need to know." She smiles. "Ben's wonderful, you see." Gag. But she means it.

"Such a harmonious marriage you have!" he says with genuine admiration. "Ah, I could only dream of such a thing." He frowns then, and gives a little sigh. "Unfortunately, given my situation, I ought to be looking for someone with a reasonable dowry, harmonious or no. If you know any such person, do keep me informed, won't you?" He laughs a bit wryly.

"Oh, I'd be a terrible matchmaker," she says, laughing in return. "I ran off and eloped with the first man who kissed me!" She leans in a little and whispers, "Ben had no manners at all," she confides.

Then she sits back. "But I'm surprised Lady Sintha hasn't exerted herself on your behalf. It seems like just the kind of thing she'd love to do. Bring two people together like that."

Arric looks genteelly shocked at this account of Ben's behavior! But he is distracted from his shock by mention of Sintha; a bright smile comes to his face.

"You know, she and I were betrothed once," he says solemnly. "Or at least, she did graciously accept my proposal, when I was six. But sadly, we had to break off the engagement when she decided to move across the sea." He winks. "And now I believe she is too busy being a 7th Legion Master Sergeant to meddle in others' domestic affairs."

"I wondered where she landed," Mizzy says. "She's a delightful lady, quite intimidating! Or maybe that's just me. I didn't see her at the Gala. Were you there?"

Arric's expression clouds over for a moment. "I was," he says. "I went with a dear friend, who has been helping me understand raptors. She was devastated by the news about Theramore; I've never seen her so upset."

Speaking of raptors, Rica has finally finished doing frantic loops around the sitting room, and she comes to settle by Arric's feet, looking up at him adoringly.

"Sintha was there, of course. Looking positively majestic. I only glimpsed her for a moment though. I'm sure she's bearing up well under the stress; she always does."

Mizzy shakes her head. "I wanted so badly to go and help; it just doesn't seem possible there was no help to give. So much destruction… But that's what the Horde excels at." Her brown eyes darken, her jaw firms. "There can never be peace, I don't think, while the Horde remains."

She sighs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean t— I've just lo— We've lost so much. It's difficult sometimes to remember there's a time and place for such talk. Will you forgive me?"

Arric reaches out to lay a comforting hand briefly over hers.

"My dear lady," he says, "it's a wonder we can manage to talk about anything else. It's truly a testament to the resilience of the human spirit that we can still appreciate a sunrise or enjoy the company of a friend. That is something they can never take from us. But we cannot be expected to pretend it hasn't happened, either, can we?" He sighs. "I, too, wish there were more I could do. I'm becoming quite the accomplished rifleman these days, yes. But what good are rifles against such —"

He pauses. There is no gentlemanly way to finish that sentence, apparently, because he does not.

"My point," he says more gently, "is that I understand you completely. Both your worries and your desire to continue making things better for yourself and for others. I work on my projects here at home, and I continue to try to meet people and make my name here… but I am also training in the hopes of doing my part in the next major warfront. I don't believe I'm eligible to serve in the Alliance army, as I'm not a citizen, but Cobalt Company will be wherever the action is next, I know it. I hope that your husband and the other leadership will soon see fit to assign me where I can face those beasts head on."

He looks determined; a rare stony resolution behind his normally genial eyes.

"I'm certain your abilities are most welcome in Cobalt Company," she says earnestly. "There are never enough hands to do all the work needed, and even when the major squads are off on some battlefield or other, there are so many things that need correcting here at home! There's no such thing as a small task, not when the need is so great. You know, Cobalt Company got its start investigating strange behavior by gnolls. Can you imagine if they only concentrated on the big things?

"Don't worry, Lord Falrevere, you'll be called upon to do your part. Of that, I'm sure."

He nods slowly, his eyes uncertain. Then he nods again, more resolutely.

"Now!" he says, in a tone of one sweeping the former topic off the table. "Aside from speaking to your husband, what is our first step toward involving you in the future of Falrevere apples?" His eyes return to their usual warmth.

Mizzy brightens. "We tour your orchards!" she says. "I've recipes for all sorts of insect repellant and disease cures, and I can even make them myself as I'm an alchemist. Though nowhere near as good as Lady Ference, I must say. And we can see what needs pruning and what can be left to develop."

"Splendid!" Arric smiles. "I can tell I'm in good hands." He looks down at the raptor leaning against his leg. "Do you hear that, Rica? It's time for a little walk!"