The inn keeper’s idea of a simple meal was still far grander than anything he was used to, warm vegetable stew and a hefty chuck of soft bread to dip in it. Rosco is used to infrequent meals and much smaller portions, so the equivalent banquet laid out before him has left him more queasy than hungry. He doesn’t want to seem rude or ungrateful so he stows the bread in his coat for later and forces down as much of the stew as he can manage. What he did eat was delicious, but rich and flavorful in a way that only made his stomach more upset. Since he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself and the too small amount he was able to eat, Rosco hides in a corner of the kitchen, watching the rest of the inn staff enjoying their own meals. He learned the old woman at the desk was Mrs. Rosewood and her husband Mr. Rosewood was master of the kitchens. Mrs. Rosewood bustled in and out, snacking while she worked. Mr. Rosewood keeping her well fed by hand feeding her morsels of whatever he was cooking every time she passed through. Every time she left the room the old man began gushing to anyone present (mainly Rosco because he was new.) about how lovely his wife is. How well she managed the business his father had left them. What a wonderful mother she’d been to their three now grown children. The other workers all roll their eyes at the lovesick look the old man throws at the door each time it closes behind his wife. Mouthing along to his stories with pinpoint accuracy so it’s very clear he’d told them many, many times before.

Sitting in the corner by himself, Rosco finds himself gingerly twisting the ring on his thumb, blushing brightly when he realizes he’s doing it. He gives an experimental tug, but the ring won’t slide past his knuckle. He tries again, pulling on the ring with all his strength, but once again, little band of metal would not budge. Every attempt to remove the ring with no success, gives Rosco’s faith in Hayden’s word a little smore strength. By the time he gives up, a heat has solidified in his chest. A feeling almost tangible in nature, aching in a dangerously pleasant way.

Mrs. Rosewood pushed in, distracting her mister and Rosco took the opportunity to escape, heading out to meet Hayden behind the stables like they’d agreed.

The sun was just beginning to set, gray of night draining the world’s colors. Outside the city everything had smelled of pine trees but here the scent was muddied, layered in with too many others. It smelled like people and horses and stove fires; the rich foods Mr. Rosewood had cooking away in his kitchen and sun heated hay.

Rosco rounds the corner to find Hayden sitting on the ground, leaning back against the wall of the stable, his hands resting easily in his lap. His posture is relaxed but the boy can see a wrinkle in between his closed eyes.

“Are you thinking about the missing kids?” Rosco asks, plopping down to sit in front of him.

Hayden blinks, tilting his head, “How did you know?”

The boy shrugs, fingers going to the band on his thumb, mindlessly twisting, “Just a guess, or that’s what I was thinking about, so it was the first thing I said. Do you know where they are?”

“No,” Hayden answers slowly, “I have a suspicion, but it would require further investigation.”

“So, what do we need to do first?”

“First?”

“To find them.”

The corner of Hayden’s lips twitch into a sort of smile, “Aren’t we already finding my sister?”

Rosco chews his lip, mulling it over, “We’re multi-tasking.” He decides.

“I can’t spend the next thousand years here, solving every problem that comes at them.” the god counters, they are more capable than they give themselves credit for. And whatever is wrong here, is most likely tied to the imbalances affecting everything. Like I said before, treating symptoms will not alleviate the cause. Would our time not be better spent finding the original source?”

Rosco goes quiet, pulling up strands of grass from around his feet as he considers Hayden’s words. “I’m not asking you to do everything for them.” He mumbles, mostly to himself but Hayden meets his eyes, encouraging him to go on, “It’s not like finding the missing people will solve every problem the people living here face,” he continues with more confidence, “but wouldn’t it ease a lot of their suffering?”

Hayden just stares at him, Rosco’s seconds away from losing his nerve and apologizing or something when Hayden speaks first, “Probably.” The god admits, gaze dropping to the ground.

“And the people seem to think it’s a problem with the mountain g- spirit, thing. Wouldn’t that kind of be your responsibility anyway?” the boy challenges.

Hayden leans his head back against the wall, letting out a soft laugh, “I can’t believe I’ve let you talk me into this.”

Grinning ear to ear, “So where do we start?” Rosco asks.

“The mountain’s spirits temple,” Hayden answers like the words taste foul for him to so much as say, “The spiritual energy around this city is an absolute mess.”

“Another temple?”

Hayden answers with a nod, “After your duties in the morning we will go visit the mountain spirits. I will resist burning the building to the ground, and we will ask a few questions.”

“Burning to th-” Rosco pales, “I’m not fan of temples, but burning is a bad idea. I know from experience people get quite angry when you burn down buildings. You’re joking about the burning, right?” chuckling nervously, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I said I wouldn’t,” clicking his tongue, “You really do have the worst impression of me.”

Rosco sighs in relief, “oh, hey, I haven’t seen Tansy,” Pointing to his hair like that’s where the wildflower is expected to be. “Do you know where he is?”

“Oh,” Hayden sighs with a roll of his eyes, “Tansy saw a pretty young girl peddling flowers in the street earlier and fell madly in love. You shouldn’t worry, they’ll be back by morning.”

“but?” Wrinkling up his nose, “Tansy is so- and well no one can see her, and-” glancing up at Hayden all confused, “How is that going to work?”

“It won’t.”

“But you just said Tansy was in love?”

“Yes?”

Rosco looks around, expecting the no one else around them to back up his confusion, “Won’t that be a problem? Isn’t Tansy going to be hurt?”

“Probably,” Hayden inclines his head in acknowledgement, “But I believe Tansy knows that will be the outcome, and still chose to chase after the girl.”

Rosco gets to his feet, anxiously wringing his hands, “Well shouldn’t we do something? Find them or, I don’t know, something?!”

Hayden looks horrified by that idea, “I have no desire to tangle myself into Tansy’s love life.”

“But Tansy is going to get hurt!” Rosco says a little too loudly, not yelling just yet, but definitely getting frustrated.

“Tansy knows that Rosco,” Hayden starts gently, “They still chose to act on their feelings.”

“But why!?” properly shouting now, “If you’re just going to get hurt what’s the point? You’ll just end up alone again and it’ll hurt all the more because now you’d know what you were missing. Love is just,” hands knotting in his hair like he can pull the words he wants right out of his brain, “misery! It’s not worth it!”

Hayden is still just as calmly sitting there as he was before and now Rosco’s all worked up, heart thudding and breathing shallow which just makes the boy more upset because he should be normal and not let his emotions get away from him and be able to have a conversation like an adult. But he can’t help it. He just wants to scream some more, but he can’t do that either because his words are starting to stick on his tongue, refusing to sort out, so he just sort of collapses, curling himself into a ball. Tucking his head between his knees, hands pulling tighter at his hair to release the pressure.

He sits there, all tense and balled up until he calms down, but now he’s too embarrassed to move and face Hayden after having such a childish meltdown.

“Worth what?” Hayden asks, startling Rosco out of his cocoon.

“What?”

“You said ‘it’s not worth it’.”

“Ah,” rubbing a hang over his cheek, “Uh, well, all the other stuff, I guess. Um, ya know, the nice parts. Or something.”

Hayden nods, actually seeming to think about what Rosco said, “Do you have much experience with the ‘other stuff’?”

“No,” Rosco admits with a blush.

“I see,” Hayden hums, pushing up to his feet, “Well Tansy seems to believe it’s worth it.”

Rosco should be sleeping, but he can’t. He’s thinking about what Hayden said, sitting alone now, but still behind the barn. The god was right, Rosco doesn’t exactly have much experience with love. He doesn’t remember his parents, and he’s never been close enough to anyone in a functioning relationship to even know what that would look like. He thinks back to the Rosewoods at dinner, how much joy they brought to each other with such simple things. How much love Mr. Rosewood could just heap on his wife with no consequence.

He doesn’t get much further down that thought before Tansy arrives. The little wildflower collapsing atop Rosco’s waiting hands, just a tiny mess of tears. Rosco has no idea what to do with a crying person though. As a person who cries a lot himself, he knows it’s no help to be told to suck it up, but he’s not sure what else to do. Eventually Tansy is able to settle down, tiny sniffles still periodically shaking the small body.

“Rough night?” Rosco whispers.

Tansy nods, normally neat golden hair, hanging messily around their tear-stained face.

“Hayden told me what happened.” He adds guiltily.

Tansy nods again, like they’d expected as much.

“Was it worth it?” Rosco asks even though he’d really meant not to, “I mean,” biting at his lip, “You just seem so upset. And it seems like you could have saved yourself all this trouble if you’d just well, if you’d just not. But Hayden said you knew that and went anyway so you must think it was worth it. And- well, I just- I don’t know,” wincing at himself, “So um, yeah, was it worth it?”

Tansy watches him a moment with their tiny yellow eyes before they flutter up, touching his nose and backing up just enough that they are sure they have all of Rosco’s attention. Tansy gives him a slow deliberate nod yes.

“I don’t get it,” Rosco shakes his head.

Tansy sighs and shakes their head as if to say, ‘you’ll get it someday’.