Author's Note: This is a silly little one piece I wrote many years ago, probably in 2010. It's not canon, and it contains real world references as well as childish humour. Hey, it's just a silly little thing that I found sitting in my "Settlers" folder. Maybe somebody enjoys it; I had fun writing this! Happy Birthday, Lord Wisdom!
"Bandit, you're insane," Sabatt said shortly, and Kestral met her patronising gaze and raised eyebrow with an arched brow of her own, smiling cheekily.
"So? That's why I can totally count on you on this mission – correct?" The former bandit flashed a smile and Crimson Sabatt knew then that she had lost.
"Very well then," she stated with a woeful, theatrical sigh, "but for the record: I am only doing this under dire threats of severe mental torture."
Kestral's disarming smile widened. "That's my Crimmy! And for the record: You're doing this 'cause it's Wise Boy's birthday, that's why. And now c'mon, Elias has already shipped the present, we only need to pick it up!"
"You're saying this as if this was actually a good thing."
"Stop sulking, this will be fun! Just what could go wrong? Piece of cake, we just ride to the harbour, pick up the present and be back in time for the big surprise party tonight!"
"If your intention is for the Southerner not to live to celebrate another birthday, then good job, rogue, way to go."
Both women mounted their ready horses and raced off towards the city gate.
Just whatever could go wrong? Crimson Sabatt had an entire list of what could, and she knew that it would, too.
Alandra threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes for the hundredth time.
"No," she said, still trying to keep the polite voice that was becoming harder and harder to sustain. "We are not looking for a date, and certainly not I, for Heaven's sake! We are looking for dates! Fruit! From Janub!"
The merchant shrugged and continued to look at Marcus and Alandra with an expression of eternal uncomprehending disinterest. "I know apples," he explained in a similarly disinterested tone while his grubby hand disappeared behind the wooden display table to scratch an itch in a spot Alandra furiously tried to ignore.
"And pears. Watermelons. Got a couple nice melons." For some reason, Alandra felt repelled by the way he said that while looking at her.
"Even those new things, what's they called..."
"Oranges," growled Marcus, giving the man a hard stare. "We're not interested in apples, pears, melons or oranges. We're looking for dates, and fresh ones at that!" He leaned in across the table to face the puffy merchant. "Do you know where we find dates in Vestholm?"
"Listen, boy, I don't know what kind of fruit that's supposed to be, but finding you a date shouldn't be a problem – ha, ha!"
"Oh, Heavens!" Alandra's eyes twitched dangerously. "What is wrong with these people? Come, Marcus, I have a backup plan."
With a scowl, Marcus tore his threatening gaze off the merchant and followed Alandra out in the street. "How much more humiliation does this backup plan include? Seriously, Alandra, as much as I like Hakim I don't think this is worth the effort."
Alandra stopped dead in her tracks, turned to face him and gave him a stern look just short of gasping with anger. "Hakim is our friend, how can you say bringing a little joy into his life is not worth the effort? It's his birthday, for goodness' sake! We're all getting him something, and you know how much he misses his homeland!"
Marcus seemed to shrink under her angry gaze, his shoulders drooping. "Of course," he murmured, "we'll find him a date. … Dates, I mean! The fruit!"
Thordal, meanwhile, didn't have any troubles at all. Back at the Castle, luring Hakim away had been tremendously easy. The Viking bard had the Castle to himself, and he hummed a happy tune as he began his preparations for the enormous feast they were going to have tonight. A task right after his own taste. He ran one giant hand along his thick, red beard as he stood in the vacant Great Hall, roaming it with his eyes. "Hah. I know just what we need." He nodded to himself. "A cartload of garlands, much confetti, and much more mead. And those funny little birthday hats!"
He approached one of the big dining tables and gave it a gentle push. "This room is too orderly for a proper party. I'll have to re-arrange the furniture first."
"Then do that, Thordal, I help with the decorations in the meantime."
The Viking spun around and faced his Queen. She smiled wickedly. "Don't look so surprised, did you think I'd let my Knights party without royal attendance?" She laughed when Thordal's chin almost dropped to the floor from his slack-jawed expression.
"Oh, don't fret, Thordal, I'll officially take a day off. Tonight, my only duty will be that of being a Party Queen!" She laughed cheerfully, and Thordal felt his cheeks flush with excitement. "Har!" he bellowed, "This will be a party worthy of a song, and there will be many worthy songs tonight!"
"Waaaahhhhh, Crimmy, stop this thiiiiiiing!" Kestral's words were pulled from her lips by the strong wind that tugged at her hair and made it wave behind her head like a banner. She clung to the neck of the … thing … and continued to scream for help as it took her on a rampant ride.
"I told you this was a bad idea!" Sabatt wasn't exactly in a position to help. Because, unfortunately, she had been stupid enough to allow herself to be coaxed into Kestral's enormously splendid idea of 'trying this out'.
Which meant she had no neck to cling to, and because she hadn't, she clung to Kestral for all she was worth.
"Can we discuss this later? Just stoooop it!"
"Did I mention this was a bad idea? Did I mention all of your ideas are bad, and whenever you say 'piece of cake' the cake turns out to be a giant messy pool of sludge, and we're going to drown in this ocean of messy ideas?!"
Kestral dug her fingers into the thick fur of the creature, trying to get a hold of the dangling reins with her other hand. "Yeah, okay, I get it, I get it."
"You better mean the reins or I'm forced to kill you!" Sabatt was screaming now. No, not exactly screaming. More like shrieking, and the fact that she did meant that she probably really was going to kill someone soon.
"Oh, shut up! I almost got 'em, just a lil further …. hey, what can go wrong?"
It was evening when Hakim wandered the empty Castle corridors. He hated to admit it, but he was a little concerned with the empty state of what he had come to call his home. It was not that he was looking for company, of course, he was perfectly content on his own. Still, somewhere in his mind he was very certain that there -should- be servants and the like roaming the corridors. Strange. The tall Southerner wrinkled his forehead into a thoughtful frown, and it was still on his face when he reached the door to his apartments. There was a note attached to the door, and his frown deepened.
"Meet us in the Great Hall.
-Your Secret Admirers"
This was truly becoming mysterious. Surely the Castle had not been invaded by an enemy force calling themselves "Secret Admirers"? It would at least explain the absence of everyone, he thought. Hakim turned on his heel, a determined expression on his keen, southern face. Whatever the issue, he would face the challenge. His stride was powerful and filled with vigour as he headed towards the Hall, fully prepared to unveil the identity of the person who left the mystery note.
What he was not prepared to face were the terrors that awaited him.
He entered the Great Hall.
"Happy Birthday!" rang a chorus of voices.
Hakim's eyes were wide with shock. The Hall was filled with people. The entire company of Knights, his friends, and he could even spot the Castle staff at the tables in the back of the room. And the room – it had changed dramatically. Colourful garlands wound from the chandeliers nearly down to the floor and a rain of confetti covered the floor. Every single item seemed out of place, the tables were re-arranged and the whole Hall was a whirlwind of colour and cheerful happiness.
He realised he hadn't moved, and everyone was looking at him expectantly. "Is it … my birthday already?" he asked timidly.
Kestral came up to him, a wall of joyous laughter and cheers in her back. She stopped right in front of Hakim and smiled, then abused his confused state to stand on the tips of her toes and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Happy Birthday, Wise Boy!"
A party hat was thrust onto his head.
He was lead into the Hall amongst the crowd of joyous people celebrating his birthday that he himself had completely forgotten about. Cascades of good wishes were directed towards him, and it wasn't long until Hakim couldn't help but smile.
Someone handed him a glass of orange juice. "Don't think you'll be getting a kiss from me," noted Crimson Sabatt. With a funny look at his shocked expression she commented: "This would be the part where you raise your glass and toast with us, Birthday-Boy."
"Oh, of course." They toasted to him, and he toasted with them, and it wasn't before long that the Southerner was entirely absorbed by the happy atmosphere. He, too, felt happy, when he saw his friends around him. He smiled. A couple of drinks (orange juice!) later, the unemotional man from Janub had visibly loosened up, and when the Queen came to congratulate him, he almost hugged her. Almost. Thank the Heavens.
"Are those dates?" His expression turned to sheer joy when he spotted the silver platter on the table, and Alandra was quick to fetch it for him. "They are! Fresh from Janub, and just for you." She smiled widely. "You better not let them out of your sight, Marcus has discovered his love for dates!"
"Heya, Hakim! Be quick to check out the rest of your presents, because me and my boys want to start the entertainment!" Thordal had a grin a mile wide; his grins were really unmatched by everyone else. Especially by Sabatt who lately seemed to always sulkily stick around him for some reason.
"Presents? But of course!" He was really getting into this now.
Birthdays are great, he thought! Like an excited little boy the Knight sought to see what everyone had gotten for him, and like an excited little boy he unwrapped his presents with sheer bliss.
When the last present was opened, Kestral cleared her throat. "I, too, have a present for you. We, uh, thought it best to not put it among the others." She cleared her throat a second time. "Yeah. So … I'm sure you'll love it! Or … you can just return it if you don't like it, but I swear I won't touch that thing again!"
Saying those words, the former bandit stomped off to open a door, and when she returned the room fell silent. Lead into the room on a long rope appeared the strangest, ugliest creature most of them had ever seen. Its legs seemed too long and lanky, the oddly shaped head on the long neck seemed to contain eyes that were much too large. But the strangest thing, by far, were the two humps on its back.
"A camel!" And now, he laughed. Hakim rushed over to Kestral and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Everything was wonderful and perfect! He could only think of one thing that could possibly make this day even better, and he bent his head to kiss her.
What could go wrong now?