Authors note: This story takes place partway through episode 48 of the second season of Critical Role.
Jester Lavore sat at the bar of a Trostenwald tavern, waiting for inspiration to strike. As much as she loved her friends in the Nein -the puzzled looks when people counted out their members still delighted her- after everything that had happened at sea she felt an uncharacteristic need for a little space to process things. And maybe have a little fun.
The Hillward district of the town with its well-to-do elite and regular Crownsguard patrols just seemed so dull it was the perfect place to spread a little chaos, although with the late hour her options were limited. A man sat a little ways from her at the bar. Older, with steel grey hair that gave him a distinguished air he didn't seem out of place in Hillward district but his travelling cloak spoke to being only a visitor. His clothes were plain, especially compared to her own frilled dress; meant for hard wear and travel but well fitted and just as well maintained.
Her stools feet squeaked against the floor as she scooted a little closer to him.
"You know what you should really try?" Still facing the bar she'd leaned over precariously on her stool, to whisper conspiratorially. "The milk they have. It's just the best."
Bredon Geir had already glanced over at the sound of her stool moving but turned his attention to her more completely. A half-drunk mug of one of the local ales sat at his elbow; he was fairly indifferent to ales as a whole, content to nurse it over the evening but the young teifling was far more interesting.
"The milk? I was told ale was Trostenwald's specialty."
She shook her head, blue tresses bouncing around her shoulders and voice still a conspiratorial whisper, "nope. Nope nope nope. It's the milk. That's their big secret."
A smile tugged at his lips as she spoke, though he fought to keep a straight face. There was this energy to her. An excitement that wasn't innocent or naïve as much as simply genuine and he was surprised and how much he liked it.
He turned in his seat to properly face her.
"Really? Well, you seem quite well travelled so you must be quite the connoisseur. It would be foolish of me to ignore such an expert."
Jester's smile brightened as she saw him fighting his own, trying to seem serious. Most were at best confused or at worst annoyed or angry at her games, her momma had really been the only one to really play along. And now this man!
He was tall -she could tell even while he was sitting- his back straight but having turned towards her she could now see just how broad he was across the shoulders, square jawed and handsome.
She giggled, nodding her head enthusiastically, "Oh yes, my friends and I travel a lot- we're adventurers! Super amazing ones, too. We've gone all across Wildemount and sailed the Menagerie coast! We fight monsters, and save cities, explore weird places; all that kind of stuff!" Bredon almost thought she'd start bouncing on her seat as that bubbly energy of hers seemed to grow while she talked about her friends and their adventures. "They're all sleeping now but I decided I wanted a drink. Did you want to join me?"
Chuckling, Bredon no longer tried to hide his amusement, calling for the bartender; a middle aged halfling who'd been dozing in a chair against the wall. The bleary eyed bartender looked from him to Jester and back, letting out a dryly knowing "uh-huh," when he ordered the pair of milks before shuffling off to fill it.
Turning back to Jester, Bredon tisked her softly. "Naughty girl, sneaking out on your friends like that." He waged a finger, chiding her like a scolding parent but he did it all with a warm and teasing smile. "If your days are so hectic you should be getting some sleep too. It's 'no rest for the wicked' not 'no rest for the blue and adorable'," he winked at her.
"But milk is supposed to make you tired. I promise I'll try and go to sleep after this, okay dad?" Jester whined and gave an exaggerated pout, crossing her arms but it barely lasted a few moments until she had to stifle a fit of giggling.
Bredon raised an eyebrow, smile still playing on his lips as the bartender returned with their drinks. He wasn't actually a father; at least, not to his knowledge. But that hadn't exactly stopped a number of the women he'd taken to bed from referring to him as such. And with increasingly regularity since his hair had greyed.
He watched as she took a drink of her milk, tongue darting out across her upper lip as she set the tankard down.
Reaching over, he gently touched the tip of her nose with a finger.
"Alright missy. But perhaps in the future we'll need to find a way to tire you out before tucking you in for the night," he grinned. He wasn't exactly 'kidding'. Despite her demeanor, from his seat he could tell she was clearly all woman -and delectably so.
Her smile grew even as she pulled back a bit when he booped her nose, a pleasant little shiver running through her.
"It's not missy, my name's Jester!"
"Jester." He rolled her name across her tongue. It was certainly appropriate for the playful, spirited young woman. "Jes-ter." He enunciated slowly, nodding to himself. "I do like the way that sounds on my tongue." He cocked his head to the side slightly and his lips curled in a different kind of smile. Not quite hungry, but full of intention and desire. The way people looked at her mother.
The way Avantica had looked at Fjor-
She shoved those thoughts away, refusing to let it ruin her night.
He was looking at
her
like that. An indigo flush rose in her cheeks and chest as her heart started beating faster.
"I wonder how it would taste?"
They lapsed into silence as he took a drink
"And how do you think I should tired myself out before bed?" She said softly.
