Coye 5.2 (Patreon)

Chapter 2 - Dorothy’s Week 1 - Letters from Home

Dorothy had spent most of the day in a total daze, paradoxically feeling empty-headed and full of more thoughts than she knew what to do with. In ways he never had been before, Coye was still achingly at the forefront of her mind, like a scab she couldn't bring herself to pick off. The way she tried avoiding him this morning was embarrassing. She kept replaying the events repeatedly in her mind, trying to think of a way she could've acted less like a neurotic goober and more like a trained professional who managed an entire Guild's worth of adventurers.

All these scattered thoughts of regret, self-loathing, and longing piled up, giving her already taxed mentality a load she couldn't be expected to work under. Thriving under such conditions wasn't possible, even for someone more mentally put together than Dorothy herself happened to be.

At least the day was winding down, and Dorothy apparently missed when Coye returned to drop off his proof of kill trophies from his newest quest. Tammy informed her that the boy went and killed many Gremlins today, more than the quest even required for completion. That was a relief to hear. Money was always tight around the Guild, and people who put in extra work were few and far between these days. Just another reason he was so valuable to her, along with many more personal reasons Dorothy struggled to make heads or tails of.

A smile played her at lips as she thought of him and all the work he did for her- for the Guild, that is. He was so reliable, and as he became stronger with every passing day, her trust in him grew until recent events had thrown their entire dynamic into what it now was- a confusing mess of sleepless nights and a heavy heart whenever he was near.

Tonight, Dorothy didn't have to worry about such things. She was at the front desk sitting beside Tammy, her significantly less reliable yet still trusted receptionist. Dorothy was scrawling line after line of notes on various forms and files which needed to be sent to the Association. None of it was too thrilling- mostly income reports and tax statements.

Between how tired and mentally drained she was, the poor Guild Mistress was barely making any headway in the slightest. She would write a couple of words, lose focus, finish a sentence, and then close her eyes before wrestling herself back into a state of awareness that would see her through another few sentences before the cycle repeated.

Tammy couldn't even be bothered to do that much. She was sitting there, fiddling with her little puzzle cube while occasionally sipping from a fresh cup of steaming hot moonroot tea she'd poured. If one were to ask what she was doing, she would answer that she was keeping her boss company and providing moral support. That wasn't entirely untrue, at least regarding the keeping company part. Dorothy often preferred working out here next to Tammy as opposed to her stuffy office, and during better times, the two would occasionally chat.

Dorothy's silence that night was particularly worrying Tammy, who watched her Guild Mistress look as if she was on the verge of collapsing face-first onto her pile of paperwork. Bouts of narcolepsy were expected from her, but the troubled expression she wore bothered Tammy the more she periodically stared at her employer.

"Not that I don't enjoy our little quiet time together, but you're more of a vibe kill than usual tonight, boss," Tammy said.

The silence had grown so thick Dorothy was startled when it was broken. She became aware of her surroundings again, her latest battle to fight off a new stress headache now successful as her gaze met Tammy's. "Ah, oh, no... I'm sorry..." her voice was soft and punctuated with a delicate yawn. "You know me, once I get caught up in my work, I... just can't seem to stop, ahaha..."

Tammy glanced down at the roughly two paragraphs Dorothy managed to compose in the last half hour, her eyebrow raised. "Geez, make sure you pace yourself."

"Oh, who am I kidding?" Dorothy gave up the act, sighed, slumped down against the front desk, and rested her head on the hardwood below. She knocked off the little cap she wore atop her head, prompting another disappointed mumble to issue out of the Guild Mistress's frowning lips. She would pick it up later.

"Not me," Tammy pointed out. "Is there something juicy you need to talk about? Maybe about the other night, perhaps?"

She lifted her head off the desk and bit down on her plump bottom lip, eyes turning askance far from the receptionist's inquisitive gaze. "I don't really think it's all that juicy, but... I don't know, I've just been feeling listless and more stressed than usual ever since, um-" she stopped herself short of admitting this began when Coye moved out of the Guild, swiftly covering herself up by mumbling, "W-Well, I guess I just didn't get as much rest as I really needed."

Tammy was not one for pussyfooting around. She put her elbow on the table and cradled her head, looking straight at Dorothy as she asked, "And you're certain this has nothing to do with the way you've been avoiding Coye?"

She cut straight to the heart of the matter for a reason- to trip Dorothy up. It worked spectacularly, the mere mention of his name causing that nervous wreck of a woman to jolt upward in her seat, redden like a tomato, and start sweating like she had just been accused of murdering the King of Karnalle himself.

"What? Pft. Ahaha! No. No way, of course not!" Dorothy tried to mimic the way a person might casually brush someone off but only ended up succeeding in making herself appear like a doppelganger miserably failing to emulate even the basics of human interaction. "You're so funny, Tammy. Really. W-Why in all the Realms would you think this has anything to do with... um... him?"

"Why indeed?" Tammy stared at her with unblinking eyes.

The receptionist found herself of two separate minds which conflicted with each other. Dorothy was clearly going through some intense and personal emotions that she was grossly incapable of figuring out for herself. Tammy had never struggled with romantic feelings for another, but she imagined she could at least point her boss in the right direction to sort her shit out.

That said, the one thing Tammy valued above all else was adding a sense of intrigue and drama to her pointless, unfulfilling life. Spelling things out for Dorothy wouldn't be any fun.

If Tammy was going to help, it wouldn't be that direct. She wasn't heartless, not to that extent. She would limit her advice and make it vague in the hopes that it would lead Dorothy around by the nose into figuring things out for herself in a way that would make it seem like she came to that conclusion on her own.

"This might seem like a radical idea, but hear me out. You would probably feel better if you stopped pretending he didn't exist and talked to him."

"I'm... I'm not pretending he doesn't exist!" Dorothy sounded hurt at that playful accusation. How could she ever do that to Coye? No, she wasn't ignoring him. She was keeping a healthy distance until whatever all this was passed through her system, and they could go back to normal, the way they used to be. Friends. Which is what they still were, of course.

"Then how come you go into hiding every time he's here?"

"I don't," Dorothy lied with a crooked frown and a face that betrayed her utter bullshit. "It's just that I'm so busy. So very, very busy!" She further deluded herself by picking up her pen and writing another couple of notes on the current sheet of paperwork. In some alternate plane of reality, this might've been convincing were it not for the fact that Tammy was literate and could plainly see Dorothy didn't actually write anything and just scribbled a couple of squiggly lines in place of words.

Sensing that more drastic measures were needed to unmask Dorothy's shenanigans for what they were, Tammy looked over at the front door and said, "Oh, hey, Killer. What's up?"

Dorothy's chair felt the floor with a colossal thud, and the door to the records room slammed behind her. Tammy sighed and rubbed her forehead. "He's not actually here, boss. I was just messing with you."

"H-How can I be sure this isn't some elaborate double ruse, and he actually is here?!"

"If he was, you would've just made yourself look like an idiot. If you keep this up, I'll have to find you a nice clown suit. Any preference between motley or polka-dot?"

A couple seconds of silence passed before Dorothy poked her head out from behind the door and looked around, verifying Tammy's claim that Coye wasn't actually present. Dorothy emerged and slumped her shoulders when she saw that her friend was telling the truth.

"Maybe see if they have any in stripes? I hear stripes make you look skinnier..." She sighed, utterly defeated as she fixed her chair and sat down in shame.

"I'll have one of my servants check the local shops." Tammy teased. "More importantly, are you going to be honest with me now, or what?"

Dorothy adjusted her glasses as the deep-set frown on her face only worsened. She knew she wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Tammy. She wasn't sure what telling the truth would accomplish, but it's not like it could hurt, either.

"This is hard to admit, but I've just felt really weird and hung up about Coye moving out of the Guild. I... I know I shouldn't be and that he's barely a twenty-minute walk away, but it's just... just... Gods, I wish I could explain this. It's stupid- I know it's stupid, but-"

"You don't need to explain it to me. I get it, boss. The heart is a stupid thing, and you can't control how it works or what it gets upset about. The best you can do is work around its cruel ministrations while trying not to let it get you killed."

"The heart?" Dorothy tilted her head in her never-ending obliviousness, failing to realize what the heart had anything to do with their current conversation. "I'm not sure I follow you there, but I guess you have a point. I can't control how I'm feeling, but that doesn't mean I can't be upset that I'm feeling it at all..." she slumped down on the desk again. "I hate it, Tammy. I just wish that, for once, things could get a little easier for me. I'm not asking for much. Just like, I don't know, one week where nothing bad happens. Just one! Would that really be such a hard wish for the Goddess above to grant...?"

"You're asking the wrong person about the Goddesses," Tammy shrugged. "Never been that religious, myself. I can't guarantee you'll have a lucky week or anything, but do I have something that might perk you up in the short term." The receptionist slipped her hand inside her green vest, her sleeve rustling the name tag on her breast as she removed a small envelope and extended it toward Dorothy. "You got some mail today."

Dorothy stared at Tammy for a few seconds in slight confusion before tilting her head and asking, "I asked you to get the mail hours ago. Why... um, why didn't you give it to me then?"

"Don't ask me to get the mail if you don't want me to strategically hold on to anything I might find for a time where it's most dramatically relevant. Besides, doesn't it feel nicer knowing I waited to give it to you now that you're feeling more down?" Tammy wiggled the envelope enticingly, inviting Dorothy to give in to her curiosity and seize it.

"I guess that's fair," Dorothy frowned and took the envelope, figuring Tammy meant well by the gesture. She looked down and inspected it, quickly finding it did indeed have a positive effect on her troubled mind.

"Oh," she smiled softly. "It's from my dad."

Seeing his familiar, neat handwriting on the envelope brought along with it a familiar feeling of warm and blissful comfort. It was enough to distract Dorothy from her many troubles until she noticed that the envelope was thicker than usual. The warmth was replaced by dread. A minor discomfort started to creep out from beneath the sealed wax until it became more dire with every passing second. There were two letters inside this small envelope. Of that, Dorothy was certain.

Tammy noticed that her boss looked like she just saw a ghost and had to inquire. "Something wrong?"

"I can already tell exactly what's inside," she slumped even further onto the desk. Dorothy looked pathetic. Miserable, even. Any more, and she would start to look like a slug. "It's one of those letters."

"Well, don't leave me hanging," Tammy scooted closer, unable to help herself.

"It's nothing..." Dorothy shook her head. "Nothing at all. I'll have a look at it later."

"Come on," Tammy urged. "I'm going to go crazy if I don't find out what's up. You know how I get."

Dorothy considered her options as she looked into the eyes of her persistent employee. As someone weak to pressure, Tammy had a natural advantage when getting her boss to do things. Even then, Dorothy figured maybe it was better to get this done with so that the letter wouldn't loom over her shoulder like a specter for the rest of the night.

"Fine," the Guild Mistress grumbled. "I guess I'll have a look..."

Tammy imperceptibly celebrated her little victory as Dorothy picked up a letter opener already present on the countertop and unsealed the green wax circle. Just as she feared, her father wasn't the only one who wrote to her this time. There was a letter from him and one from her mother.

She deliberated whether to read the good or the bad one first before deciding she couldn't take a letter from her mother without at least some improvement to her mood. Thus, she unfolded her father's message and smiled at the lengthy text he'd written her. She imagined him saying the words out loud, picturing his gentle voice as he spoke to her.

'Dear Dorothy,

Hope things are going good for you. I was really happy when we got your last letter, and I'm sorry there hasn't been much time to write you back lately. A lot of work needed to be done to the fields, so planting season took a few extra weeks this year, and your mother and I were all sorts of busy. Thanks to our hard-working little girl, things went smoothly because of all the farmhands we could afford. It's nice being able to rest my aching back for a couple of hours every day while knowing that the farm won't go to hell in a handbasket without my constant supervision. I'm also not complaining about getting to catch up on my reading, either.

Speaking of that, your mother and I crossed the bay and visited Dawnstead just last week to do some shopping. Needed some stuff for the animals, you know how it is. Anyways. I found the time to stop by the Palladis Library to drop off some books and pick up some new ones, and I had a friendly chat with Mrs. Patterson. She was asking about you, wondering how you were doing and the like. We ended up reminiscing about the first time I brought you in. Remember that?

I know you were just five years old, but I still laugh whenever I think about how you cried when we told you that you couldn't take all the books home. Even after Mrs. Patterson said you could take as many as you could carry, you surprised her by getting crafty. Borrowing my coat to fashion a sling, stuffing books in your overalls, and even holding a couple in your teeth... you could be such a handful sometimes, I swear. Still can't believe she let you get away with that, but then again, that old gal was happy to see the fire in you, just like your dear old dad.

She misses you, and so does everyone in Priddlesby. You can't stroll through town without everyone asking how their favorite little genius is doing these days. I still wish you could come and visit, but I know how tough working that Guild of yours must be. My little girl is all grown up and doing her best, making her parents and hometown proud. Nothing matters to us more than that.

All my love, Dad'

Just like that, it was like Dorothy was young again. She smiled ear to ear, every stress tormenting her mind fading away as she relived the days of warm sunshine back at Whittle Farm, reading books in between her chores, taking care of the animals, and listening to her father tell her about stories he read when he was her age. Indeed, it would've been the perfect pick-me-up if it weren't for his postscript.

'P.S. I tried sneaking this letter without your mother finding out, but you know how she is. Eyes like a hawk and a nose like a bloodhound, that one. Try not to let her bother you too much. She means well.'

Dorothy frowned. It was good that she read her father's letter first, as it did improve her mood, but it would only go downhill from there. She shuffled the first letter behind the second and gazed at her mother's significantly sloppier handwriting. At a glance, you'd almost think she was the farmer's daughter and her father was the well-educated city boy who married into the family. Not the other way around.

Whereas her father's letter was long, tastefully composed, and a joy to look at, her mother's was different to a drastic extent. It was short, to the point, and riddled with spilled ink and spelling errors. No doubt dad offered to spellcheck it for her or to straight up write it via dictation, but her mother was stubborn like that and refused. She was stubborn about most things, including topics that Dorothy wished would stop being brought up.

'Dorthy,

Lets not kid ourselves. You know why I'm riting you. Grandchildren. When? Were not going to be around forevor, and someone needs to take care of the farm when we'r gone. I'm proud of you, always will be, but your to much like your dad for your own good. Always so mik and timmid. For all the books you read, you rely should tack take a page out of mine. Be a gressiv and take what you want. I refuse to believe there isn't some secsy hunk of an adventrer that you fancy. Or maybe you're like me and prefur the softer, cuter kind of guy? Eether one works, long as you land one that has a workin ramrod bitchbreakur fukstick babymaker. It wood be nice if you baged one that was loded, to. Jus saying. If you want advice, write me bac.

Mom'

Her soul exhausted, crushed into little pieces as it was, Dorothy stared up at the sky in silent prayer. She asked the Goddess above to remove her ability to read and to strike the message she had just suffered through from her memory. This wish sadly went unanswered, leaving Dorothy to exhale in frustration for what felt like minutes.

"Was it really that bad?" Tammy had to know.

"My mom is just obsessed with the idea that I need to marry an adventurer and pop out grandchildren for her," she took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I've explained to her so many times why I can't do that, but she never listens. And it's not like I don't want to give her grandchildren, it's just... Gods..."

Tammy nodded her head. "That must suck. My dad gave up any hope of ever marrying me off, so I haven't had to deal with that sort of shit in a long time. I know where you're coming from, though."

"Worse, she keeps guilting me about it. I know she doesn't mean to, but she always brings up that someone needs to run the farm when they're gone. It's been in my family for generations, so it's not like they want to sell it..."

"Have you ever considered she might have a point?" Tammy risked upsetting Dorothy just so she could play contrarian and potentially get her friend to think out-of-the-box. "I mean about hooking up with... one of the guys here."

"W-What?! Of course not! You've read the code of conduct. Neither of us should get romantically involved with an adventurer so long as we're employees of the Association of Adventurers. It would be one thing if we were a maid or a chef back in the kitchens, but receptionists and especially Guild Masters are heavily, heavily warned against doing so."

"I seem to remember that it wasn't one hundred percent against the rules and that each case would be considered and judged based on its individual circumstances," Tammy replied matter-of-factly, having just recently brushed up on that specific article in light of recent developments.

"I'm already under so much scrutiny from the Association as it is," Dorothy mumbled. "I don't need them coming in here and interviewing tons of people about my private life and whether or not I'm favoring my theoretical lover by giving them better quests, better rewards, and discounts on things when no one is looking. Besides, they could easily just throw out all their findings and make things up to fire me if they wanted..."

"Are we really doing that bad?" Tammy was hit with an unpleasant realization and the faintest hint of guilt.

"We're not doing great," Dorothy sighed. "But that's beside the point. Accusations of nepotism aren't the biggest reason it's a bad idea. Think about it, Tammy. It's my job to send out adventurers on dangerous quests. I try to match people up with jobs that best fit their talents and prepare them as hard as possible to survive, even when they refuse to listen to me. Despite my efforts, not everyone makes it back... I've worked here for eight years, and it never gets any easier whenever we lose someone. There's always a part of you in the back of your head gnawing away, telling you it was all your fault and that if you'd not issued that quest, or if you gave them better advice, then maybe they'd still be..."

The Guild Mistress was close to breaking down, but tonight wouldn't end with a marathon of tears. She fought back against the memories of those she failed and shook her head. "Imagine being in a romantic relationship with someone you're supposed to throw into life or death scenarios, knowing each time that it could be their last. It would ruin you. It has ruined people. Back at the Academy, we had to study several such cases. I know that they cherry-picked them so we learned the right lesson, but each of them ended in suicide..."

It was rare for Tammy to feel so much emotion as she did at that moment. It broke through her monotone exterior and saddened her deeply, even if her face struggled to express it. "I... guess I never really thought about it like that. You're right. Fuck. Wouldn't have brought this up if I knew it would be such a buzzkill."

"It's okay, that's just how it is..." Dorothy looked off into the distance, sharing Tammy's depression. "I've explained all this to my mom multiple times, but she just doesn't get that there's no one in my life worth either the hassle for my career or the enormous heartbreak I'd be setting myself up for..."

Even now, Tammy couldn't help but prod things in a particular direction. "Really?" She asked. "Absolutely no one at all? It's one thing to say that and act all logically, but it's like I said. The heart is stupid, and you can't control it."

Dorothy started sweating again, then chewed on her bottom lip as her glasses slipped from the ridge of her nose. She remained silent long enough for Tammy to realize Dorothy wouldn't give her a straight answer. Sensing she'd already pushed her boss far enough for one night, Tammy decided she would leave well enough alone just this once.

Surprisingly, Dorothy did end up saying something on the topic. She broke out the time-honored excuse that many girls in her position employed, and just like all others before her, Dorothy sounded anything but convincing. "I'm not even really thinking about love right now. I-I'm focused more on my career..."

Tammy resisted the urge to bite back with sarcasm or facepalm herself, merely nodding her head politely.

Sad as it was, Dorothy believed in her words. It was always her plan to live out her life without any excitement and potentially look for a marriage partner in her thirties once she'd amassed a decent enough fortune from her high-paying job. She never thought about what kind of man she wanted to end up with, always imagining this faceless future partner of hers as someone boring, timid, and plain. Someone like herself who would keep to themselves and not make her life any harder than it had to be.

As far as she cared, that would be happiness enough for plain old Dorothy Whittle. Further indoctrinating herself into this boring fantasy of what amounted to little more than a loveless marriage born out of convenience, Dorothy pumped her fists and stared off into the distance with determination.

"Yeah, that's right!" She nodded to no one in particular. "I'm still young. There's so much time left to date and get married, and I can have kids I'm older. It's not that I don't want them- I think it might be fun, but... no, it's definitely better if I wait! Yeah!"

Tammy stared. It sounded like she was reading off of a script, and she thought it was remarkable to witness someone in the process of gaslighting themselves right before her eyes. She couldn't resist the urge to poke at her.

"Ten years from now, when you're thirty-six, miserable, and wondering where all of the cats keep coming from, I'm going to quote you on that."

Tammy's sarcasm cut like a mithril knife straight to her heart, Dorothy's hands started to tremble, and her breathing became ragged. That... wouldn't ever happen, would it? No. No, of course not. She couldn't let herself think that was even a remote possibility. Otherwise, her mental turmoil would only worsen.

Besides, Coye had promised he would always be there to save her from any trouble, big or small. Always so reliable, dependable, and loyal, that one. Dorothy smiled, thinking of how lucky she was to have such a good friend to count on when times were hard. It took her a couple of seconds to realize what exactly it would mean for Coye to save her from ending up alone and miserable. After understanding the implication her own subconscious came up with, it was hard not to imagine the scenario in greater detail, and from there, it was almost as if she'd lost control of every muscle in her body.

She fell face-first and slammed into the desk, the pounding pain serving as a phenomenal start to her newest headache. As Dorothy whimpered and groaned, Tammy reached over to rub her friend's shoulder. It wasn't much, but it was something.