Ways of Coping

It started out small. Blue kept a flask of whiskey on her person at all times. Taking pity on Alaster and his blistered feet, she'd offered the fairy a drink one morning. Of course, he had sneered at the evils of liquor and at first refused. Later, she offered it to him again, and this time, having spent several hours on his sore feet, he accepted.

Blue had thought nothing of it at first. A drink here and there was hardly a crime, although she would not say she had never been accused of alcoholism herself. She drank too much, she figured, but that was because she took little sips on regular occasion, just enough to take the edge off.

Unfortunately, Blue’s bad habits with drink seemed magnified in Alaster. The first time he got drunk it was because he couldn't tell that the alcohol was doing anything, so he kept asking Blue for another drink until he was a staggering, grumbling mess bringing up the rear of the group. Feeling guilty, Blue hung back with him, trying to keep the idiot walking in the right direction.

“You know, nelf,” said Alaster, and Blue resisted the urge to thump him for using the slur, “you have the most gigantic ears I think I have ever seen on a living creature. I mean, they're just huge! You must have a very hard time finding hats.”

“Don't wear hats, wear a hood,” Blue muttered, grasping the fairy’s shoulders to steer him in the right direction. “Jill, how are you this drunk? It's not even midday.”

“Midday!” Alaster exclaimed. “Is midday when you're supposed to be drunk? I never knew.”

To say that Blue found the fairy infuriating was an understatement. He was offensive and rude pretty much all of the time, and he was useless to boot. That ability of his seemed to have no practical application, since Alaster couldn't control it at all, and he couldn't fight with a weapon either. He couldn't do magic or read maps or even cook for the group. In general, Alaster was dead weight.

The problem was, Blue just felt so sorry for him. He was quite a wretched thing, what with his fancy little shoes torturing his feet and his fine clothes ruined and his whole world having been turned up on its head. It was hard not to have sympathy, even though he was an ass.

She squeezed his shoulders as though to comfort him. “I wouldn't designate it as the official starting point, Al, but people do prefer that you wait at least that long before you lose the ability to tie your own bootlaces.”

“Marvelous,” Alaster replied. “Well, I've got a head start on it then. Ahead of schedule.”

“That's one way to put it,” Blue agreed.

Ahead of them, Fae was looking back with a concerned expression. Blue had noticed her friend trying to talk to Alaster on occasion, but Alaster seemed determined to be more of a jerk to Fae than he was to anyone else.

Fae started back toward them and Blue had to suppress a groan, because she knew that in his current state of inebriation, Alaster was going to say something truly horrible. Then Blue would have to watch Fae cry, because Fae was soft-hearted and loved everyone and she wanted Alaster to like her, but that was not likely to happen. Blue did not want to watch Fae cry. Partly because Fae was too good and she didn't deserve that, and partly because Blue did not know what the fuck to do when people started crying.

When Fae reached them, Alaster cackled, “Hello, it's the witch!”

“She isn't a witch, you awful little man,” Blue admonished, wondering not for the first time why she ever bothered to try and help him. 

“Right, she's just cursed or something.” Alaster leaned back against Blue’s hands for a moment and it was all Blue could do to keep him upright until he straightened again. “How goes the quest, sister? Are we there yet?”

“Whose alcohol did he drink?” Fae asked, wrinkling her nose at the smell emanating from him. “He smells like a tavern!”

“It's my fault,” Blue admitted. “He kept asking for a drink of my whiskey. It was keeping him quiet.”

At about that moment, Alaster began to loudly sing the anthem of Vana Vale. Fae hurried to clamp a hand over his mouth, shaking her head. “Please, Alaster, you will bring an army down on us.”

If there was an army in the general vicinity, Blue felt certain that they would smell Alaster before they heard him. Her flask, which was not small, was now quite empty. She would have to suffer through this episode completely sober, or else break out her emergency stash.

“Right,” said Alaster in a stage whisper when Fae removed her hand. “I'm on the run with you people! Isn't it exciting! And from back here, I’ve got a perfect view of the elf’s arse, which is just lovely, don't you think?”

Kniles swung around, fixing Alaster with a glare that made even the drunken fairy shrink back. “I will thank you not to talk about her in such an uncouth manner.”

“Sorry, I was trying to be nice,” said Alaster. “The only bloody one of you that's ever nice to me is the nelf, and she's got no arse to speak of.”

Blue’s hands began to creep up Alaster’s shoulders to his neck.

“Fuck,” said Alaster before Blue could start strangling him, “I think I'm going to be sick.”

With that, he pitched over in the bushes on the side of the road and lost his lunch, which consisted almost entirely of whiskey.

This was Blue’s fault, though she hadn't intended for things to go like this. She bade the others to wait a moment and she went to Alaster’s side with a canteen of water. 

“Rinse your mouth out,” she told him, handing over the canteen.

He drunkenly fumbled with the cap until he got it off, looking pathetically grateful. “Thanks. I didn't mean what I said about your arse. Plenty of wonderful people have got no arse. And no breasts, you haven't any of those either.”

“Would you like to keep your teeth?” Blue asked with a smile and Alaster sobered up a bit and focused his attention on rinsing the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

Alaster sat down on the ground and put his head in his hands. With the sort of sincerity that only alcohol could facilitate, he moaned, "I'm fucking it all up, aren't I? I'm making everyone late for their quest. I don't know how any of you annoying bastards tolerate me."

"Neither do I," said Blue, just as honestly. She sat down beside him, even though they were too close to the vomit for her comfort and she could smell it.

"The ground is spinning," said Alaster. "Is it supposed to do that?"

Blue considered messing with him, but the fairy had already been sick once and Blue wanted to avoid another bout of projectile vomiting, if at all possible. "You've had a lot to drink, so I'm not surprised you're dizzy. Ain't you ever had whiskey before, ya dolt?"

The fairy shook his head. "I've had wine. We sip wine at dinner. I never tried to drink more than that."

"Well, drink is best in moderation," said Blue, patting his knee. “Keep drinking water and you will be fine. This is a good lesson for you. Now you know what happens when you don't drink responsibly.”

After all, she thought, a hangover was the best way to cure a fledgling alcoholic, and Alaster was most certainly going to have a hangover from this. Perhaps his infatuation with drink would be short-lived.

~

As it turned out, Alaster was a slow learner.

By the time their group reached a tavern, they'd all run out of liquor, and everyone knew who the culprit was. Sitting around the campfire, they'd taken to passing over Alaster when passing around a bottle, since he tended to consume most of the bottle's contents before anyone else could get a sip. Still, he begged a drink off anyone who took out a flask and most times it was easier to just give him the drink than to argue with him about it.

Blue realized that she was probably the worst about enabling Alaster's drinking problem. When he was sober, Alaster was all but impossible to tolerate. He was grumpy and rude and overall unpleasant. When he'd had a bit to drink, he was still rude, but he was almost cheerful about it. Mostly, when he was drunk, Alaster didn't look so damn miserable. So when he couldn't get anyone else to share, Blue would quietly hand him a bottle she kept in her pack.

Everyone was in need of a good drink and a hot meal. They bundled into the tavern with enthusiasm, taking up several of the empty tables and chairs. The woman who owned the tavern and her husband stared in amazement at their strange company, as everyone always did when their group happened on some small piece of civilization.

It had been several days since Alaster had gotten properly sloshed, Blue supposed. The fairy had taken to drinking more enthusiastically than any person Blue had ever known. Hangovers were not much of a problem, provided Alaster just kept drinking, and so he had endured a terrible hangover when the alcohol dried up but before that, he'd been fine. Since then, he'd been sullen, snapping at anyone who tried to talk to him. His permanent scowl was even more pronounced and everyone was giving him a wide berth.

Blue watched Alaster go up to the bar and take a small, ornate ring from his pocket. He placed it on the bar and said to the tavern owner, “Just keep the drinks coming. That's worth a small fortune, it's more than enough compensation.”

The ring probably was worth a small fortune, and this did not seem the place to squander it. Blue stuck her hand out to the tavern owner as soon as Alaster's back was turned. “Give it back, love. I've got his tab, and when I say for you to cut him off, you will do as you are told.”

Her diminutive height didn't keep her from looking scary as shit when she wanted to, and the tavern owner was quick to hand over the ring. Blue took a moment to admire it, a silver band with a sapphire stone, before slipping it into her breast pocket.

Alaster was none the wiser when he was presented with a mug of ale, which he drained in short order. It would take him longer to get drunk on ale than it did on whiskey, and Blue was kind of counting on that. Plenty others in the group would get a bit tipsy tonight and Blue didn't want to chase after more drunks than she had to this evening. For herself, she had only water. It would be best if she was sober for the evening, she felt.

Before too long, Alaster had consumed three mugs of ale and had ordered a fourth. Blue was keeping an eye on him but she couldn't cut him off too soon. She was trying to avoid a conflict with the fairy but she also didn't want to deal with his sorry drunk ass later.

Shadow leaned over, looking concerned. “I'm worried about Alaster. Perhaps you should speak to him about his drinking.”

“What am I, his keeper?” Blue wanted to know, because there was no reason that she could see why she should have to be the one who talked to the guy. If anyone should have to, it was Fae. He wasn't Blue's brother, or her responsibility.

“Well, it's just that he seems to listen to you,” said Shadow, her ears drooping. “He doesn't like the rest of us.”

Blue rolled her eyes. Of course Alaster didn't like the rest of them, but he didn't like her either! Every chance he got, he called her “nelf,” even though she'd kicked him for it a few times. Alaster did not like her, or even respect her, and Blue didn't like his attitude. He was a rich brat who deserved to have to live in misery like the rest of them.

Trouble was, it seemed like he took to misery entirely too well.

“I cain't control what he does,” Blue told Shadow with a sigh. “He's an adult. I guess we could tie him up again but I don't think that will make things any more pleasant. You wanna talk to him about his little problem, you go right ahead. I ain't losing any sleep over the fairy boy pickling his liver.”

It didn't seem pertinent to tell Shadow that she was already monitoring Alaster's alcohol consumption. If she took an interest in the idiot's well-being, that was her own business. That didn't mean it was her responsibility to look after the guy. Why was she getting stuck with this? She didn't like him any more than the rest of them did, she just felt sorry for him.

When Alaster called for a fifth mug, Blue caught the eye of the serving boy and shook her head. Thankfully, the boy obeyed and no more ale was brought to Alaster. He was drunk enough that he didn't notice for a while, too focused on listening to a bawdy tale that Gwuryn was telling. Despite how much Alaster professed to hate Gwuryn, he was actually laughing at the story, perhaps because of the alcohol's influence.

Fae and Shadow were talking quietly to each other, but they kept looking first at Alaster and then at Blue. Did they really expect Blue to deal with the drunkard all by herself? Fae, at least, should take up some of the slack. Then again, Alaster was worse to Fae than he was to any of the rest of them. Although she took a noticeable interest in her twin's welfare, she'd distanced herself more and more. Blue supposed she shouldn't be so quick to judge Fae about this, considering Fae'd likely had more than her share of verbal abuse over the years and could do without her own brother's disdain.

Wasn't like Blue had a high tolerance for verbal abuse herself, though. Being a nelfkin these days was pretty much the bottom of the barrel. When people weren't making fun of you for looking like a kid, they were looking down their noses at you for being a poor, uneducated, dirty nelf. Most everyone had misconceptions of what nelfkins were like, even her new friends, and though she was used to it, Blue didn't have to like or accept it.

A roar of laughter rose up from Gwuryn's end of the table.

“By the will of Skye,” said Kniles in astonishment. “You never did!”

“I did indeed,” said Gwuryn, “and will gladly allow our lord Skye to take credit for my achievement. I do believe he has destined me to be such a cunning thief of fair maidens' hearts and undergarments.”

Blue had no idea what the story Gwuryn was telling had been about, as she'd not been listening, wrapped up in her own thoughts. She rather thought she preferred it this way, as it did not sound as though she would approve of or believe the subject matter. If Gwuryn was a thief of maidens' hearts, Blue was High Regent of Vana Vale.

“Do you really believe in all that?” Alaster spoke up, apparently drunk enough to be chattier than usual. In fact, he was an amicable drunk, much more pleasant than he was when he was sober. “The gods and goddesses, I mean. Imaginary people in the air, deciding everything and taking tributes and all, I just don't buy it. I've never seen one, at any rate. If they exist, why don't they ever visit?”

Kniles was staring at Alaster with wide eyes, as though he'd never heard someone say such things. Even Gwuryn looked perturbed. No one ever questioned the gods. They were the gods, after all. Questioning them could only lead to misfortune. To speak like this of Lord Skye, in fact, was perhaps the most offensive thing a person could say at a dinner table.

“Why, friend Alaster, I have never before felt the need to question the gods,” said Gwuryn. “They have been kind to me, after all.”

“Yes, well,” Alaster began testily. “They haven't been especially kind to me, or most everyone else in this party, so far as I can tell. I just want to know, if they exist, why aren't they down here taking care of this fucking mess themselves?”

“Perhaps they are,” said Zi with a bright smile. “I believe the gods and goddesses guide us in our every action. We are their hands with which they bring about destiny.”

This made Alaster raise an eyebrow at her, as though nothing that had just come out of her mouth made the slightest bit of sense to him. Blue, on the other hand, thought it did make sense. She didn't spend a lot of time things about the gods. If they existed, she supposed she hoped for their favor, but she had no concrete beliefs about them. Some people did, though, and that was none of Blue's business. If Zi felt the presence of the gods in her life, then that seemed like it could only be positive for her.

“It doesn't bother you that they never talk to you?” Alaster asked. “You never hear a word out of them.”

“But they do talk to us,” Zi replied, puzzled. “Through visions and prophecies, they have brought all of us together.”

“How do you know that was the gods?” Alaster demanded. “Maybe it's some sorcerer tricking all of us. I mean, not Detraf obviously, but there are bound to be intelligent evil sorcerers in the realm. This could all be some big trap and we're walking right into it.”

It did seem rather likely to Blue that it was the gods who had brought them together. She still wasn't sure that she understood the purpose of doing so, but she did doubt that some evil sorcerer was tricking them into all of this. What would be the purpose? Besides, it comforted her to think that her father finding her pendant had been fated. It gave his life and his death a purpose. It made Blue think that she had a purpose herself.

Zi looked upset now. She was wringing her hands in distress. “I don't understand. Why wouldn't it be the gods? It is fate, and I know better than most what it is to be ruled by fate. Without it, how would we find our way in life?”

“Bloody hell, believe what you want.” Alaster rose from his seat, throwing up his hands. “All I know is, I've never had anyone guiding me through life before and I was just fine before you lot showed up going on about the gods and quests and destiny. It sounds like a crock of shit to me.”

Leaving the rest of them flabbergasted at his outburst, Alaster left the tavern in a huff.

“He can't be serious, can he?” asked Zi, still wringing her hands. “The gods are real!”

“Of course they are,” Kniles comforted her. “He is a very unhappy person and takes it out on others.”

“Oh,” said Zi, her face falling even further. “That's sad.”

“Indeed,” murmured Fae, staring after the door Alaster had left through. She did not rise to go after him, however. She looked over at Blue instead, her expression beseeching. “Would you mind checking on him? He can't defend himself, and I'm afraid he's going to get mugged out there alone.”

If this was Fae's concern, Blue really thought Fae ought to be the one who went and checked on Alaster. She knew Fae was using her as a buffer between herself and Alaster, and if she didn't like Fae so much, she thought it would make her angry. But it was hard to be angry with Fae, who was always kind and often caused herself inconvenience for the betterment of someone else.

“Suppose I can make sure he doesn't get killed,” Blue said with a sigh, pushing back from the table. She didn't mind going out for some fresh air anyway, even though it meant probably enduring verbal abuse from the party's least popular member.

It was cool outside, but not as cold as it had been recently, so Blue left down her hood. She found Alaster just around the corner of the Tavern, sitting on a bench and staring mulishly out into the darkness. Approaching with some degree of caution, Blue took her pipe and her tobacco pouch out of her coat pocket. When she sat down beside Alaster, she busied herself packing the tobacco.

“Thought I'd have a smoke,” she said to excuse her following him out. Alaster glared at her but didn't say anything, so Blue lit her pipe and took a long drag from it. She let the smoke back out through her nose, delighting in the disgusted look that crossed Alaster's face.

She held the pipe out to him and asked, “Want to try?”

Alaster snatched the pipe away from her and inhaled a lungful of smoke. He immediately began to cough and sputter, and Blue took her pipe back to save it from getting dropped and possibly broken.

“Fuck,” Alaster muttered, “that's disgusting.”

“It is,” Blue agreed, taking another drag. “You're better off if you don't smoke. Not that consuming half the liquor in the realm is a lot better for you.”

Still waving his hands to get rid of the smoke around him, Alaster scowled. “At least liquor tastes better.”

“Both burn the first time,” Blue said, shrugging her shoulders. “What was all that in there about the gods not being real?”

For a long moment, he was silent, back to staring at the darkness. At length, he said, “I just don't see why the gods would let so many bad things happen if they're real. Unless they're all dicks, which wouldn't surprise me. Don't you ever question it? Your people are treated like cattle, do you not think that is something worthy of the gods' attention? And yet they ignore your plight, as they ignored my sister and the wolves, and that poor bastard who is stuck inside the elf's head. If the gods are real and they just don't care, then I don't want to worship them anyway.”

It surprised Blue to hear him talk about her people, and about Fae and Shadow and Yuna. It was almost like he cared about them. Perhaps he was growing fond of the party after all. Blue found it was hard for her to suppress a smile at this knowledge. No one else ever talked to her about the way nelfkins were treated. It seemed odd that Alaster, out of all their company, would be the one to bring it up.

“I guess I take your point,” she agreed. “But the prophecy thing? I don't know if any mortal has magic strong enough to do all that. It seems to me that the gods are real, and they are dicks, like you said. They're having fun watching us squirm and if they could fix things, they probably wouldn't do it. I reckon it's more entertaining to them this way.”

Alaster shivered. “I'm not nearly drunk enough for this.”

“Lay off the drink for a bit,” Blue advised. She took the ring that he'd pawned from her pocket and pressed it into his hand. “That trinket there's too valuable to waste on second-rate ale. Keep it, you never know when you might need it for a nobler purpose. Your sister is worried about you, also. Perhaps you could talk to her. You know, without being an ass.”

“I can't talk to Alexandriana,” Alaster said, but he pocketed the ring. “She'll want to know how I'm feeling, and if I'm making friends, blah blah blah. She's better off if she stays away from me.”

“Don't know about that,” said Blue. “She wants to get to know you. Would it be so bad to tell her how you feel? Maybe you could start with whatever it is that's driving you to drink.”

Laughter bubbled out of Alaster and for a moment, Blue wondered what it was she'd said that was so funny. She certainly hadn't meant to be humorous. The situation was fast becoming serious, in fact, and as the person who had introduced Alaster to alcohol, she thought that she had a responsibility to talk to him about it. It wasn't a duty she was happy about but that didn't mean she could ignore it forever.

“Did you know I can fly?” Alaster asked. “When I want to, that is. All fairies can. When we want to, we can summon our wings. But the thing is, I never liked it. Flying, I mean.”

Blue did know this about fairies. As she understood it, fairies shared a well of communal magic that, when they tapped into it, allowed them to manifest wings. It was very rare to see a fairy put on their wings, so to speak, and it somehow didn't surprise Blue that Alaster didn't like to do it. He wasn't a very adventurous person.

“Don't like heights, do you?” she asked with a smirk.

“No,” Alaster muttered, “I don't. Still, I guess knowing that I could made me feel... more secure.”

“Could?” Blue repeated. “Not can? Cain't you fly anymore?”

“Apparently not. I seem to have been cut off.” The fairy stood up and commenced to pacing back and forth as he spoke. “So you see, I can't talk to my sister about this. She was cut off from fairy magic when she was born. She has never been able to fly, whether she wants to or not. We do it to criminals and undesirables. What have I done to deserve it? You lot kidnapped me in the first place, it isn't like I wanted to leave. And they've cut me off. I never paid attention before but now that my magic's gone, it's... I feel like part of me is gone. My wings are gone.”

This was not something Blue could relate to at all and she didn't quite know what to say. “Really, Fae would be a better person to talk to about it. I'll bet she feels that way too. Me, I don't know what it's like to fly, and don't want to know, if I'm being honest. I like having both feet on the ground.”

Alaster sighed and shook his head. “I've said too much. Look, don't tell the witch – I mean, don't tell my sister. I don't have the right to complain about it to her.”

“Is that why you're drinking?” Blue asked with genuine curiosity. “Your magic's gone?”

“Partially. Also, when I'm sober I hear other people's thoughts all the time. I can't control it. When I drink, it seems to dampen my abilities.”

It did seem like an inconvenient ability to possess. Telepathy was one thing when you could decide when you wanted to use it, but random telepathy that popped up with no rhyme or reason was quite another matter. Blue supposed that if she had an ability like that, considering the company she kept, she'd probably stay drunk herself.

No wonder the guy was keeping himself sauced. Jill, she really did feel sorry for the miserable creature.

“I don't want your pity.” Alaster pointed a finger at her accusingly. “And if you hadn't stuck your nose where it doesn't belong, nelf, I'd have been too drunk to hear that thought.”

Blue supposed he had a fair point but she grinned and shook her head. “Sorry, but I do pity you. My life's not easy, but it's always been like this. I was born into it, never knew any different. You were born to luxury. You never had to worry about where your next meal was coming from, you had nice clothes and money. You were secure, and now you're not. That seems like it wouldn't be an easy transition. For what it's worth, you're taking it better than I thought you would.”

He flipped her the finger. “Fuck you and the pony you rode in on.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed. “What other thoughts of mine have you been listening to?”

At this question, Alaster turned bright red and refused to meet her eyes. “Listen, I can't control what I hear. If you don't want me knowing what you think, you should keep your distance.”

“Would that help?” Blue asked.

“Well,” said Alaster, “no, not as far as I can tell. Perhaps if we were about a mile or so apart.”

“What did you hear that has you so bothered anyway?” Blue wanted to know, amused by how uncomfortable he seemed to be.

“You're not going to drop it, are you?” he asked. When she shook her head, the fairy sighed and admitted, “You think I have an adorable nose, apparently. Your words, not mine.”

Blue did vaguely remember thinking the fairy had a rather cute nose. Fae had the same nose, but somehow Alaster's nose was more interesting. “And what's wrong with that? You do have an adorable nose.”

“Men do not have adorable noses,” said Alaster, exasperated. “All those other giant freaks in there,” he waved toward the tavern, “go on about how short I am, how I look like a child, so on and so forth. You're supposed to understand, damn it. And there you go, calling my nose adorable. Do you know how emasculating that is?”

“I'm sure it's not as bad as being told you've 'no arse to speak of,'” said Blue flatly. “Okay, I will try not to think of your nose as adorable. What adjective would you prefer? Stately? Distinguished?”

Alaster looked as though he'd rather be talking about anything else. “Really, I'm not drunk enough for this. One more ale, nelfkin, that's all I ask for.”

“Oh, alright,” Blue said, taking pity on him. He was sober now at any rate, so another mug wouldn't hurt him. “One more then, but not a drop more than that.”

She put out her pipe and slipped it back into her pocket. Opening the tavern door, she gestured for Alaster to go through first, and he didn't even sneer at her. Perhaps she'd buy a bottle of whiskey for the road, she thought to herself. They all had their ways of coping, after all.

- Fin