Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey, Barold, have you got the bat broom?”

“They’re back?” Barry stands, trying not to groan as he levers himself up from his usual pre-opening leaning spot at the well worn counter. Not that Lup would tease him, well, much, but he’s always been self conscious about how creaky he feels next to her. Maybe he needs to get her to make good on the pilates threats.

“Who says they ever left?”

Barry groans. “Do you want to do it, or should I?”

“I’ll do it, I know you hate bothering them.”

“They’re not hurting anyone! They just, uh, you know, hang out, mind their business.”

“Causing the customers to come and complain to me about it…” Lup raises her eyebrows expectantly.

Barry hands over the broom with the small black plastic wings taped just above the brush part. He can empathise.

“Tell them I’m…”

“...Sorry, natch, cha’girl wouldn’t dream of forgetting Barold. The bats won't get you in the uprising.”

“If you apologise for yourself they might let you live too!” Barry shouts as she leaves.

Lup salutes him in the doorway, her laughter drifting back to him on the summer breeze. He's thankful for it, laugh and breeze, amusing Lup always feels like an achievement, and the air has been stale in the shop the last few days.

He really does hope the bats let her live. Things have been so much better since the summer staff returned.

–

“They took it pretty well.” Lup knocks the latch free and flips up the flap of the counter top with the handle of the broom. It’s painfully cool. Barry just knows in his bones that he’d get splinters trying. “I think I even heard one click out “we don’t blame Barry for this even a little bit” as it left.”

Barry shakes his head but can’t help grinning. “That’s uh, reassuring. Anyway, are you all ready? It’s 10, so I’d better open the gates.” Barry slips out from behind the counter, but waits on Lup’s answer. He can delay if the team needs a few more minutes.

“We’re good to go, Magnus is with the sandpit, cha’girl’s on stories and objects with Taako back up, and he and Ren are in the Cafe.”

“Great, Merle’s in the greenhouse, I bumped into him earlier.”

–

“Welcome one and all to Neverwinter Castle….” Barry taps the button that opens the gate and plays the creaking sound effect (there was no way it actually creaked, his regular maintenance schedule made sure of that) and taps the microphone button again. “... where we bring the past to you.”

No matter how many times he says it, there’s still a small bubble of pride. When he saw the announcement that they were selling off the site there was no way he could let it pass him by. He’d spent so many summers working here and seen so many opportunities, it had been his chance. Sure, John hadn’t been able to make it work, but that was because all he wanted out of it was profit. He’d told Barry early on that it was silly to pour any of himself into the job, that it was inevitable that eventually the money would dry up, people would stop coming, and capitalism would grind on. Barry nodded, ignored him, and resented him as the other staff dimmed throughout each summer, light sucked out of them by the time they left. Well, until the twins came. Things got better when the twins came.

Barry presses the button to open the portcullis at the front of the castle when he sees the first guests approaching on the monitor, sticking to the flagstone path, thankfully. Magnus’ sturdy fencing had really helped, Barry scribbles down a quick note to thank him again. “By visiting us today you’re helping us preserve the past and educate our future. Thank you, you’re making a difference.”

Barry moves back from the microphone and leaves his office. It’s up to them now. He’d learned from experience that the intro talk wouldn’t work if it was too long. On his first test run the speech had been full of puns, references, and fun facts. He’d heard Lup yelling ‘neeeerrrrd’ through the open window. This new version suited people better, they could pick up maps and check out the information boards and stands inside.

Barry was on shop duty this morning, so he cleaned the counter one more time, partly plated up the testers (no sense in letting them go stale, the first visitors would take a while to get round here), and grabbed the toy guillotine and a carrot from the fridge. He may as well make the entertainment display a way of preparing the crudites to test the harissa dip. It wasn’t period authentic, but it was delicious, locally made, and sold well which is all he could really ask for.

The shop was based in an outbuilding, off the gardens at the rear of the castle. The window gave him a great view of the cherry trees, undulating topiaries (he didn’t ask about the shape and hoped Merle wouldn’t tell him), and his favourite of all, Lup’s shows. She won't be gearing up for another hour yet, but he’s already looking forward to it. She definitely had the strigil and the tersorium for the artefact guessing game today and the reactions of delight and horror at the gross-ness were always fun to hear.

–

“...and what do you think this was for?” Lup held up the curved piece of metal, it dangled casually from her hand.

“It’s a primitive pickaxe, probably Neverwintian in origin, I’d date it to...”

Barry rolled his eyes and tuned the man out. He hated it when they got parents like this - the know it alls who thought it was important to be loudly correct in front of the children at the activity for under 15s. The regularity of their wrong-ness did not escape him.

“That’s not correct, Sir, and that’s not how pickaxes are shaped.”

Barry waits to see if Lup will stop Angus, he’s one of their frequent fliers, his Grandfather bought the summer pass each year and Angus certainly got his money’s worth. Barry is pleased when she doesn’t quiet him.

Angus continues, emboldened by Lup’s lack of action. “In fact, Sir, you didn’t actually have to answer, because this is an activity for young children like myself, but I’m not going to answer because I know what it is, I’ve been here before.”

“Thank you Angus, it’s good of you not to spoil it for our fantastic guessers.” Lup doesn’t even bother to try and comfort whoever it was that fell foul of Angus. They’ll survive the ego bruising no doubt, hopefully it’ll make them think a bit more in future. “So, what do you think everybody?”

A few guesses are shouted out. They’re incorrect, but at least they’re from children.

“That’s a really good thought, but it’s not quite right. How about I do a demonstration? I start here, and pull.”

“It helps you put your jumper on!” An excitable child yells.

“Ooooh, that’s a guess I haven’t heard before!” Lup manages to sound delighted about this fact. “And it might a little bit, we’ll see what you think once we find out, but this is a strigil. Will you all say it with me?”

The children say the word.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Barry rolls his eyes as the yelling resonates around the shop. He swears she does it because she knows how bad the echo is.

“That’s it! You’ve got it. This was what people from all over Faerun used to take a sort-of-bath. To use it they’d apply oil, and then use this to scrape off the dirt and sweat.”

“Ew, gross!” mixes with “Cool!”

Barry stands up a bit straighter as he hears the tell tale footsteps of guests approaching on the path. He tries to put on his best customer service face even though he could use a quieter day today, he has plans to make.

–

“Davenport! Nice to see you.” Barry smiles as he enters the shop.

“I was hoping I’d run into you!” Davenport smiles brightly back. “It’s good to be back! I always love what Merle does with the gardens.”

Barry had initially been terrified of the short, dapper man when he’d suggested they met to discuss Barry’s proposal that Starbright Tours included Neverwinter Castle on their rotation. It faded fast once he realised that Davenport was just as serious about quality educational content as him. Davenport’s enthusiasm for Barry’s well-researched proposal had gone a long way to endearing the man to him.

“No Kravitz today?” Barry asks, it’s always nice to run into the tour guide. Barry had offered Kravitz some initial materials when Davenport put them in touch, but the costuming, accents, and enthusiasm Kravitz brought to the tours were all his own. During the test tour he shadowed Barry had immediately understood why Davenport had hired Kravitz.

“Of course Kravitz is here today, I don’t suppose you can guess where he is.”

Barry laughed. “Cafe?”

“However did you know?” Davenport shakes his head and turns his attention to the selection of naval history books.

“I wonder when those two will get it together?” Barry asks absently.

“I could ask you the same question, Dr Bluejeans.” Davenport didn’t make eye contact, all of his attention focused on the book he’d plucked from the display.

It made it easy for Barry to ignore it. But he’d been ignoring it too long. This year things would be different. He’d promised himself that.

Neverwinter Castle: End of Season, 2024

“Hey, Bear.” Lup hopped up onto the counter, leaning her elbow on the ancient till and resting her head on her hand.

“Uh, yeah?”

She looked at Barry a little quizzically, doing some kind of calculation in her head, then grinned, seemingly settled on a course of action. “You know I’d say yes, right?”

“What?”

“If you asked me out. I’d say yes. Maybe you’ll do it next summer? Cha’girl’s looking forward to finding out.”

Barry’s brain had never been this quiet before. The thousands of thoughts flitting in every direction at all times dropped out of the metaphorical sky and gave him the silence they’d always promised meditation could bring. He hated it. “Uh… I… Er…”

“Like I said, next summer. I’ll send you postcards like usual.”

She does. He gets one at least every week, emails too. She doesn’t mention it again. He doesn’t either, he doesn’t know how to. Telling Lup he’s in love with her, that he’s been in love with her for longer than even he’s known, that he thinks she might be the point on which his world turns? That’s one of those moments that marks a change. Just like the day John accepted his offer for the castle. Just like the day he got the last phone call from his Mother. This was important, he knew that, and he owed it to himself and to Lup to make sure this was good, to make sure it was right.

But this was the summer, he was sure of it.