"Stabbed me in the ribs", Arven progressed with the story quickly, pointing two fingers towards the side of his waist.

"Loathe though I am to spoil the end of the story, but I didn't die", he "revealed" with a twinkle. "I probably should've. The bandit was quicker than me, attacking before I could loose a single curse. But she let me live. She sat me down and patched me up. Why? Because she needed to know the purpose of the magic wand she'd now snatched from my possession. For she was of course a muggle, perplexed and profoundly curious about my bizarre weapon. She demanded to know what it was."

Arven paused. "How would you have responded to her demand, had you been in my position?"

  

---

Carmelina screwed up her face in a wince of sympathy at the stabbing.

That said, she still couldn’t stop herself from grinning at him as the rest of the story unfolded, both quite taken with this storied traveller and the female bandit in the story. (Though by falling immediately in love with her probably wasn’t the answer he was looking for.)

“Made up some terribly flimsy lie, I expect,” Carm admitted with a laugh, not sure she could classify herself as much of a deft liar. What would she had said about the stick she was using as a weapon, really? “Or perhaps I would have tried the truth on her, and only hoped she found it funny!” That might be breaking statues of secrecy somewhere, but she shrugged conspiratorially.

---

  

---

Arven gave another crooked smile — Madam Cramming was not just a good listener, but a good co-conspirator in his telling of the story. He'd quite like to hear some of her own tales.

But for now his story of the Bandit Queen was centre stage, and he leaned backwards. "It was in fact a bit of both. I told her the wand was an ancient Assyrian artifact I'd picked up on my travels, designed to protect the bearer. She of course found this hilarious, given that it hadn't protected me at all; but she let me keep it, and once I'd healed up the three of us shared the road for a while. It might've been the start of a foreign romance, but our lady bandit was... not that way inclined", he explained with a slight smile, leaving Carmelina to read between the lines if she so chose. The bandit did have a lady friend with her, after all. Theirs was the foreign romance.

"When we parted ways, I actually gave her my wand — she was so fascinated by it. It wasn't my actual wand, of course", he added fairly. "It was one I replicated from —"

Just then, an interruption. In through the window, which was ajar, slunk a small ferret who bee-lined straight for Arven. This was Virgil, his pet and his friend. Many of the other patrons (or at least the ones who'd noticed) were not impressed; one lady even squealed softly and gathered up her skirts. Virgil had no interest in her, and climbed up onto Arven's lap.

"Oh, this is my ferret, Virgil", he explained to Madam Cramming with a slight chuckle. "And probably my cue to go", he added apologetically, for it wouldn't be long before the café manager noticed there was an animal at one of the tables.

  

---

Oh, well then. Delighted enough as she had been with the tale, and Mr. Fisk’s telling of it, perhaps the best plot twist of all was what came next. “What a pity,” Carmelina said primly - it might have been safest to say nothing at all and pretend she could not fathom what he might’ve meant about the woman’s inclinations, or lack thereof, but not able to resist entirely. And maybe Mr. Fisk was more astute than many men she’d come across, or at least a little more au fait with divergent experiences in the world, having travelled far and seen many things.

Carmelina had seen her fair share of the world, but that did not mean she wasn’t entirely surprised by the ferret clambering through the window! She blinked in bemusement, but unlike some of the other nearby patrons, all she was suppressing by biting down on her bottom lip was a wave of chuckling; and even then, she hadn’t stopped the laughter leaking out. Virgil! What an excellent name.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, in slight disappointment but well-enough understanding, rising from her chair as well. “Another dashing escape! Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fisk - and to meet you too, Virgil,” she said, in stage-whisper tones and a wide smile. “I do hope we’ll meet again.”

---

  

---

Having previously dismissed the ragamuffin and the spinster as a most uninteresting couple, various other patrons had now turned round to regard Arven's pet ferret with surprise or intrigue; but he and Madam Cramming paid the onlookers no mind. As they made their farewells, Arven got to his feet and Virgil scampered up to perch neatly on his shoulder.

"I couldn't have hoped for a kinder audience and friend for the afternoon, Madam Cramming", he replied with a smile that reached his eyes. The circumstances of their meeting were quite forgotten, though later he would go back to wondering if he had really been poisoned the other day... before dismissing it as a suspicion untold and returning, as ever, to living in the present.

"I am sure we'll meet again. Especially if you find yourself with some spare moments this time next week; then perhaps we can convene here again and share some more stories", he proposed warmly. Madam Cramming was an interesting woman, and a wit; he was most curious about her.

With that, Arven left the tearoom, paying for his and Madam Cramming's refreshments on the way, and stepped out into the sunshine and into another story.

-end!- <3

  

---