The prince was up before both of them, his space beside Vom cold by the time the half-orc. Cold morning air ghosted over him and eventually forced him out and into the sun. The fire was already crackling loudly with a pan of food nestled over the flames.

Across the small space, Ettrian was standing with his face towards the rising sun. Deep breaths in through his nose filled his chest and then came out in a whoosh through his mouth. He raised his arms slowly and pressed his hands palm to palm in front of his chest. He did it several more times before adjusting his stance to something new.

Vom joined Hettie by the fire and took the cup of steaming tea from her. "What strange ritual has our prince decided to inflict on us?"

"Our prince?" Hettie questioned. One of her eyebrows arched sharply. "How are you feeling?" The touch of her fingers against his forehead was clinical but quickly smoothed to something warmer. Her fingertips drifted down to his cheek and lower to where she could feel the pulse in his neck.

"I feel fine," he answered. Warmth followed her touch and he leaned into it. "I suppose maybe my arm is a bit uncomfortable from laying on it all night."

"That's not quite what I was asking about," she said through a muffled laugh. "I'm trying to see if the potion affected the two of you any worse after spending a night in such close proximity."

Understanding finally dawned and Vom groaned. "I'm not wrong, he is our prince in the strictest sense of the word. It wasn't my way of taking personal ownership of him."

"Dearest, you may take personal ownership of me any time you would like," Ettrian called back over his shoulder. The elf was on one leg now, bent forward at the hips so the raised leg could shoot out behind him like the tail of a bird. His hands remained clasped in front of his chest.

Hettie sighed, draining the last of her tea. "We need to find you a tent before this gets any worse. It was bad enough with just the two of us."

"Do the effects get worse when there are more people?" Vom reached over her to take the thick piece of cloth so he could lift the pan out of the fire. Eggs nearly filled the space, leaving just enough room for a few pieces of dried meat.

"I've never seen it used on more than two people. Typically I only allow couples to use it." Hettie stretched her legs out in front of her and threaded her fingers through her hair. With a few careful movements she braided it back into two loose braids that hung over each shoulder. "This isn't how I would have chosen to experiment with this."

Dirt puffed up around Ettrian's boots as he stepped in close to the fire. He settled down behind Hettie and began undoing her braids. "How do you normally experiment with your potions and things?"

"I have volunteers for most things, and of course I always have myself," she answered. The braids loosened and she made no move to stop him from redoing them into a braided crown.

Vom set plates of food in front of both of them. Steam curled in the chilled morning air. "What about the dangerous ones?"

"I don't make dangerous potions. I'm not a potioner for the army or anything like that," she scoffed. The new braid thumped onto her right shoulder. Hettie lifted it and followed the line of looping hair over her shoulder and across her head.

"Oh why not, my sweet? You would be an asset to the Falbroken armies. I can see it now, your potions ending wars before they've ever been given the chance to start," Ettrian said loudly. He spread his arms wide as if welcoming an applause from an adoring crowd.

The laugh that came out of Hettie was contagious and left all three of them on the edge of breathlessness. Their food was nearly forgotten while they debated which of her potions would be most effective. Vom had voted for a sleeping potion because people couldn't fight if they were dreaming. Ettrian was in favor of the love potion, which he said with a suggestive wink at the two of them.

"People can't fight if they're too busy-" Hettie cut him off with her hand over his mouth.

"That is not the point of the potion, just so you know. My intent was for it to open a dialogue between a couple that wasn't hindered by negative emotions. It just so happens that when it's used on people without such negative emotions it takes a more provocative turn," she explained. Heat flooded her cheeks no thanks to Ettrian's hands on her shoulders.

"I definitely had negative thoughts about you though," Vom said. It had started as an inside thought but something about the easy atmosphere around the fire had pushed him to open his mouth. He immediately wished he hadn't.

"About me?" Hettie asked, her tone sharp. "What have I ever done to you?"

"You opened your shop across the street from mine," he answered like it was the most obvious reasoning in the world. The day her shop had opened people in town had been only too happy to abandon the intimidating orc who, in their opinion, should be in an orc war camp slamming a hammer against metal. Potions and herbal remedies required delicate hands.

Had they never seen the intricate engravings on orcish swords?

Hettie lifted the bucket of dirt they'd gathered earlier and dropped the entire thing over the fire, snuffing it in an instant. "I don't see how real estate options are my fault. I saw an open shop space and I took it."

The prince looked between them as both moved to their feet. "No, my sweet, I'm sure he didn't mean to say such things in that way. Right, Vom?" His eyes were wide, trying to convey more than what his words could.

"You can't tell me there wasn't a better space somewhere, anywhere else," Vom argued. He was already tearing down the tent he'd shared with Ettrian the night before. Something tore under his rough ministrations but he didn't stop until it was neatly rolled up and put away.

"The only options were another town entirely and I couldn't afford that kind of a move," Hettie replied. She was far gentler with her movements and rolled her tent with practiced ease. It wouldn't be surprising if she was the only one with a working tent by the end of this trip.

Despite Vom's efforts to engage her further in the argument, they were packed up by the time the sun was fully risen. He followed behind now while Ettrian forced himself to keep up with Hettie. She spent the walk catching him up on what they were searching for.

"Pineshot is a deep green, not dark, just deep. It's about the size of a child's palm with spiky leaves on either side of the center, somewhat like pine needles," she explained. As they walked she used a thin knife to cut a regular leaf into the shape she was describing. "And it smells like winter."

Ettrian sighed, rubbing his nose. "Like a first snowfall? Warm drinks on a quiet morning? Oh, that delicious smell of coming snow on the breeze?" His eyes had taken on that far away look.

"Like frost creeping under your door in the night after the fire had gone out," Hettie said. Where Ettrian's eyes had gone dreamy, hers were sharp. She crushed the leaf in her fist and let it drop. "It's the perfect counterbalance to pavesata. Now that flower, that one smells like sun warmed grass. That's the key ingredient in my little love potion."

"I thought it wasn't a love potion," Vom said. That finally earned him her undivided focus.

"Yes, but I'm getting tired of constantly having to dance around just to explain to you what the difference is between what I do and and what an actual love potion is," she snapped. Bright splotches of red covered the tops of her cheeks. Her eyes, on the other hand, looked almost too wet. She turned away before Vom could get a better look.

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