The Runaway: A Stardew Valley Story

Sworn in Ink

Elliot

Shane locks eyes with me across the saloon. He sneers. I smile. It's all pretty routine. The poor chap is already too drunk to keep his head off the bar. He won't remember much by tomorrow; might as well be friendly.

"Tormenting the token closet gay again?"

"I told you," I sip my ale, "it was an accident on both parts. We were both very drunk, and that was not the kiss of a man in love, for the record."

Leah sits next to me with a brow-creased expression. "Would you even know what that's like if it had been?"

"It wasn't."

"And I'm glad. Your exes are bad enough."

The ale in my throat sputters, and I choke. My mouth and chin drip foul-smelling liquid as I glare at my companion. She does offer an impish smile before running to the bar for a napkin.

I might have deserved this, I remind myself as I pat myself dry.

"Speaking of exes, how's yours?" I try to sound friendly despite my little jab.

Leah still needs a friend to talk through her feelings. Even if they are completely wasted.

"Girlfriend, you mean?" Leah bats her eyes.

Raising my glass with good humor and genuine meaning, "To your happiness," I say.

I do hope she'll be happy this time.

We drink to Leah's future, and neither of us says what we're both thinking, that hopefully, this will be the last time. Leah grows quiet. Her gaze darts over the dark corner room of the saloon where the gang of outsiders plays billiards every Friday. The blonde with wild hair watches the entrance. He wrings a cue between his fingers.

"I guess she's not showing up," Leah finally whispers.

"She?"

Leah's quick glare slices through me. "You know who."

Junox.

"So you met her," I presume.

Leah nods and starts to pull the magazine from her bag. I stop her with a hand on the shoulder and a shake of my head. Her eyebrows knot.

"Let's take this somewhere more private," I whisper.

I begin to lead my friend from the saloon. It's three rounds earlier than we usually call it quits, but only one pair of eyes follows us to the door. Absently, I wonder if he's already too drunk to realize that it's unusual for a Friday night.

I doubt he would care either way, and I don't care even if he does.

When we're sealed in the safety of my shack, Leah plants her hands on her hips and frowns at me.

"Why all the secrecy?"

Resting on the piano bench, I say, "Because Joy Hornsby has a reward on her head that grows by the millions each day, and this town has struggled to keep up ever since Joja Mart opened its doors. I don't know many people who wouldn't take back what they feel Joja has robbed."

"A reward?" Leah gulps. "Is — is she a...?"

"A runaway?" I offer.

Leah looks relieved confirming my suspicion that was not what she had been expecting. She slumps against my bed, ruffling the sheets.

"But if she ran away, shouldn't someone let her family know? As a kindness? Someone as young as—"

"Joy is, by all public records, a legal adult," I interrupt. "If she's gone through the trouble of hiding herself in the middle of nowhere, she has every right to remain anonymous."

Frowning, Leah asks, "Then why go through all this trouble to figure out who she is?"

My own lips tighten, and I sigh.

"You know me," I admit, "I can't shake the thrill of a good story."

Usually, this would be the time when my friend reminds me that this is the real world, and the citizens of Pelican are real people. It's not right to use their pining and turmoil for my own literary musings, but Leah must sense the frustration in my tone. She doesn't say anything for a long stretch of silence.

The bed springs groan as Leah rolls onto her side to look me in the eyes. Her mouth quirks with unsaid words. I watch her start to open it, but then furrow her brows at the last second.

"Okay," she says finally, "but I won't let you just watch from the sidelines this time. You have to play a part in this, Elliot. You're responsible for how this story goes."

That is not what I expected.

"Leah—"

"You and I are the only ones who know the truth about Junox, and that makes us liable. You have to swear to protect her, Elliot. You have to swear on your grandfather's fountain pen."

I groan. This has to be payback for the time I made her swear on her favorite paint spatula that she wouldn't call her ex back for a whole month. I was only partly joking when I threatened to break it. The actual breaking was an accident.

"I — She barely knows me!"

My friend smiles at me with something like sympathy. "You have to get to know her, Elliot. You have to let her get to know you too."

I need to revise the snot out of this work, and Idk if I should do it now or wait until it's done... Oh well! Thanks for reading!