“Nevve!” one of the other civil smiths called out, “Some brat is here looking for you!”

“Huh!?” she called back, in the middle of flattening a hinge, “I don’t have a need for some brat!”

“Just get over here when you’re done!” came the reply. 

Nevve muttered curses under her breath as she finished with the hinge, setting it aside before charging out from her forge to the common area, “Alright, where is this brat?” 

“Right here,” Ferrori said, nodding to the child standing next to him. 

The kid looked over at her, and she looked him over. Trollish, his upper set of forearms much bigger than the lower set, periwinkle blue skin with magenta slash-like markings, red eyes, and black hair. Looked to be wearing sturdy but mostly featureless clothing that didn’t tell her much of anything else. 

“Auntie,” the kid said, then ran forward to hug her around the legs.

Nevve felt like the air in her lungs had turned to dust. She saw it now - those red eyes were the same shade she and her twin sister shared for two of their four eyes, and while his skin coloration was a few shades darker, the markings matched theirs as well. The trollish heritage and black hair would have come from her sister’s wife, Emedao, who was darker in coloration than Jeakke had been. 

Had, because if the kid was here, his mothers were dead. 

Nevve sighed, reaching down to pick the kid up, “You must be Jurao then, huh?”

He nodded, wrapping his arms and tail tightly around her. 

Because Jeakke and I look - looked alike? She wondered, but wasn’t about to deny her orphaned nephew that bit of comfort. She sighed and turned to Ferrori, “This is my nephew - his moms are beast hunters, so for him to be here without Jeakke bursting through the door, they must be dead.” 

“Sorry for your loss,” he said, blinking in surprise. 

“I’m going to go find whoever got the kid this far,” Nevve said, “Let the old bastard know for me.” 

“Yeah,” Ferrori nodded, watching as she walked away. 

She went to the front courtyard of the castle and wasn’t surprised to find a man dressed in Beast Hunter gear yelling for the kid there. 

“Hey,” she said, getting his attention. 

“Excuse me, have you - Jeakke?” he took a few steps back in surprise - but quickly recovered, clearing his throat, “No, sorry - you must be her sister, ah…”

“Nevve,” she replied, holding out a free hand to shake, “I take it you have her letter?” 

“Yes,” he nodded, shaking as he used another hand to pull out a letter, “They only wrote one to you. I’ll be delivering the other one to Emedao’s family directly.” 

“Makes sense,” Nevve sighed, taking the letter and the bag he offered her with it, shifting her grip on the kid to open the former - no point in waiting. 

Dear Nevve,

Whelp. You were right - one of these days, I got myself killed. Sorry I didn’t use the swords or spear or whip or whatever you made me to its full potential - I’m sure I wouldn’t have fallen if I had. And sorry I’ll have to leave Jurao in your care - but I don’t trust anyone else with him. He’s a particular boy, and I know you’ll know how to handle it. 

Anyway, sorry for dying,

Jeakke

Nevve wanted to be mad - but no, this shitty last farewell was exactly like Jeakke. She’d probably tried to write more for hours before shrugging and giving up because it already said everything she felt it needed to - and the fond exasperation Nevve felt made her crumple the paper in her hand and stuff it in a pocket before she ripped it to shreds. 

When she looked up, she saw the Hunter was still there and staring. 

“What?” she demanded. 

He held up all four hands, “Sorry, I just… I’ve never seen him take to someone that fast. Didn’t even like his moms carrying him around once he started walking last decade…” 

So not because I look like Jeakke, Nevve surmised, then sighed, “Well, what d’ya expect - he just lost both of them, after all.”

“Right,” he said, scratching behind his neck, “If it’s any consolation-”

“It won’t be,” Nevve replied, “I don’t care what she was trying to take down or if she succeeded or-”

“Ice shriek,” Jurao said quietly, “Attacked camp.” 

“It wasn’t actually on a hunt,” the Hunter sighed, making to reach out before pulling his hands back, “Sorry, kid - almost forgot you don’t like that.”

“It’s okay,” Jurao said, not moving - the kid was so still he felt more like a pack than a person, if she were being honest. 

“Jeakke said he was particular in her letter,” Nevve said, “But she was also shit at getting to the important part, so anything I should know about that?” 

“Yeah, that was Jeakke,” the Hunter sighed in a sadly fond exasperation she recognized as familiarity, “Let’s see… he doesn’t usually like being touched, doesn’t like his food to touch-”

“Changes how it tastes,” Jurao interrupted. 

“Yeah, it does do that,” Nevve said, nodding for the man to go on.

“He doesn’t always get things the way other kids do,” the Hunter said, “Like… understand them, I mean. Emedao would, um, have these chats where she explained things like she was putting a puzzle together or something.” 

“So basically,” Nevve said, “He’s just like Jeakke.” 

“With about ninety percent less enthusiasm,” the Hunter chuckled. He looked at her nephew, and his expression fell, “It shouldn’t have happened - I was on watch.” 

“Ah, so this is your punishment for failing as a lookout,” Nevve huffed, “For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you - I tried to convince Jeakke to quit as soon as she got pregnant, but she was so bullheaded about it. I told her that job was too dangerous with a kid and tow, and now she went and-” 

The Hunter nodded, holding up a hand to stop her, “I’m sorry, I should let you have it out on me, but,” he nodded towards Jurao. 

“Right, yeah,” Nevve sighed, rubbing her forehead, “No one likes shouting in their ear, but especially not someone badmouthing their mom, eh?” 

“Mom said,” Jurao replied, “That Auntie Nevve can make anything better. Anything.” 

“And there she went promising the impossible,” Nevve sighed again, “Thanks for getting him here. You can go on and get ripped a new one by Emedao’s family. I’m sure they’ll do the job credit.” 

“Sorry I couldn’t hear you out properly,” he bowed slightly from the waist, “I didn’t expect Jurao to run off - he hasn’t done that in a long time.” 

“Safe travels, and learn to stay awake on watch,” Nevve replied, waving one hand over her shoulder as she headed back to the civil smiths’ workshop. 

“Got a kid now, eh?” Morosti, the Branch Head, was waiting for her when she arrived. 

“Apparently,” Nevve replied with a sigh, “He’s old enough to start apprenticing once he’s had some time to get settled, so don’t get your tail in a knot.” 

Morosti snorted, “At least she went out fighting, eh?” 

“I shouldn’t have given up weaponsmithing,” Nevve replied, “One of my weapons would have kept her safe.” 

“Wishful thinking,” Morosti shook his head, but waved her off, “You’re done for the week. Get the kid settled and do what you have to.” 

“Thanks,” she sighed, collecting her personal tools to take back to her room in the Artisan Boarding House. There would be enough space in her current room for the kid, but she’d put in an application for a two-room suite once she’d stowed her gear. 

“What’s with the brat, Nevve?” one of the weaponsmiths - Ierge - called out from the common room as she entered the boarding house. 

“He’s my nephew,” she replied, “But he’s my responsibility now, so if you try to bully him, I’ll break all your fingers.” 

“Charming as ever,” Ierge replied, then paused, “But why is he your responsibility?” 

“Real tough one there, huh,” Nevve replied, heading to the hallway rather than staying to chat, “Why does anyone take in a kid they’re related to, ore for brains?” 

“You little-” she heard him jump to his hoof, but he paused again, “Oh. Right.”

“Seriously,” she huffed, unlocking her room and stepping inside. She stowed her gear, asking her nephew, “Is this making you feel better?” 

“A little,” he replied, still clinging to her. 

“That’s fine then,” Nevve said, “Tired? Hungry?” 

The kid made a vague noise. 

“Yeah, that figures,” she sighed, “How about a bath first, then we’ll head to the cafeteria for food?”

Jurao made another vague sound, but his grip tightened. 

“Or I could sit on the floor, and we can cry for a while,” she suggested, “Get it out of our system.” 

Jurao nodded at that. 

“Alright, sounds like a plan,” Nevve said - plopping on the ground and doing just that. 

Later, they went to the bathhouse to clean up before catching a late meal - apparently, the cooks were nice to recently orphaned kids. Then Nevve went to the Administration Office to see what paperwork she needed to complete - everything always involved so much godsdamned paperwork. 

She got a lot of odd stares and smug remarks she happily threw loaded barbs back to - she had a bit of a reputation for her sharp tongue already, so wasn’t surprised she needed to use it. Honestly, how was the situation not obvious here? 

When she finally returned to her room, Jurao still insisted on being carried - though he allowed her to set him down once they arrived at a new location. Her head ached as much as her chest, and she set the kid down and collapsed into her bed, more than ready for today to end. 

She looked up at a rustling and saw Jurao digging into the bag the Hunter had left with her. She watched as he tossed clothing and a few books on the floor before finding what he was after - a dagger she recognized as her earliest work. 

“What are you grabbing that for?” she asked. 

Jurao marched over to the bed and slipped the dagger under her pillow, “Mom said you made her the realm’s luckiest dagger, and as long as I slept with it under my pillow, I’d be safe,” he nodded in satisfaction, “And the Ice Shriek missed our tent when I was sleeping, so it must be true.” 

Nevve swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat - feeling a complicated set of emotions. How dare Jeakke put that kind of power on her? And to tell her kid? Her kid that was still alive despite one of the most dangerous beasts known to live in the Demon Realm attacking their camp? 

She patted the side of the bed, “We’ll have to share for tonight.” 

“Do you want to cry again,” the kid said, but he was so monotone the obvious question still sounded like a statement. He climbed onto the bed anyway, hugging her again. 

Just like Jeakke, she thought, hugging him back, “Don’t be a brat - I told you we got it out of our systems earlier.” 

“Okay,” the kid said, sounding half asleep already. 

You and me both, kid, she thought, drifting off. 

***

Haven’t seen that smile in over a thousand years, Nevve thought, watching her nephew and the human gardener. 

Jurao rarely smiled - in that way, he was very different from his mother and Nevve’s twin. She had always been smiling, but that was because some jerk told her she looked mean if she didn’t when they were kids, and Jeakke had taken it to mean she should always be smiling. It was only around Nevve and later Emedao that she’d felt comfortable letting her face go blank. 

Jurao had apprenticed as a smith for two centuries. In all that time, she had seen the gentle smile he wore now a grand total of one time - when he’d successfully replicated the ‘lucky dagger’ she’d made Jeakke long before he’d ever been born. Then he’d asked her to make him a sword so he could join the army, since it was safer than beast hunting but let him follow in his mothers’ footsteps in some small way. 

She would have never guessed that the young man who became a soldier would someday become the Demon King himself, but she should have - she raised him, after all. 

The problem with all these youngsters, she thought, watching the oblivious pair share in each others’ emotional warmth, Is that they’re all so impatient.

Of course, she saw the same thing they all did - her blank-faced nephew with a thousand-yard stare suddenly smiling and laughing, eyes fixed on the present. But all those kids kept pushing like if they just hit him with a hammer, they could temper Jurao with what they saw - but hey, they were demons that had barely left the Realm. Of course they thought hitting as hard as possible was the best way. 

Jeakke had loved weapons - adored them, to be more accurate. Which was great, since their family was made up of smiths… except she’d wanted to use them, not make them. And Nevve just wanted to make her sister happy, so every time Jeakke waxed poetic about this style sword or that style glaive, Nevve had gotten to work. 

She would travel to whatever Realm she needed to, find an appropriate master or two or three, taking a century at a time to learn smithing techniques from all the physical realms. Then she would figure out how to make the weapon demon sized and for demon strength and give it to Jeakke, who would learn a new fighting style in a decade and start dreaming about a new weapon.

So Nevve knew that oftentimes, the key wasn’t hitting as hard as you could - it was hitting with the exact right amount of strength at the right time and place. Like her gentle nudge earlier about how Jurao had never done anything that could be misconstrued as romantic interest before, or simply being quiet and letting the oblivious pair have their moment unimpeded. 

Though when she sensed the warm moment was at its peak, she did interrupt - not because she thought it would die, but because she thought the pair could easily stay out for a few more hours without someone reminding them of how late it was and that they should all be getting to bed. 

They’ll figure things out in their own time, Nevve thought to herself as she walked back to her cottage, No need to use full force when the metal’s already in mostly the right shape.  

***

Nevve chuckled to herself as she listened to all the voices flying about the amphitheater. She was only there because Feyl had come by and asked her to go - specifically to confirm that she had also been in the gardens last night. Otherwise, it should have only been the Artisan Branch Head there - but she didn’t mind when she got a laugh out of it. 

It reminded her of Jeakke and Emedao - except Emedao had been very aware of her own feelings, and had just needed Nevve to tell her she wasn’t being obvious enough before managing to get them across. Braelin was as oblivious as Jurao, but that was cute in a way. 

Patience, brats, she thought to the room at large, All you need is more patience. 

Particularly Minaz and Hujur, who were only feeding into the energy they wanted to stop with their obvious reactions. Nevve chuckled again, shaking her head. 

I wish you could have seen this, sis, she thought, You would have been so proud.