While nowhere near as spacious as her room in the floor above Madame Bustier’s jewelry store, Rusty’s storage shack did have its charm, even with some tools stuffed into the corner and the fact that the only piece of furniture in it was a cot. Or maybe she was just glad to have a place to stay with someone who knew what was going on. The elves had been nice, but there was a tension there, especially with Jyn, that she didn’t want to be around all the time. Rusty was easy to cook for, seeing that he would eat anything and his cabin was never that dirty, probably because he spent most of the day in the smithy. Laundry was a bit of a hassle with all the soot from the coal, but the river was nearby and a bit of scrubbing usually helped get it out. She just had to make sure not to leave it unattended or the goblins would get it, or so Rusty claimed. Celeste hadn't seen any sign of them, though she did have a feeling she was being watched in the brushes.

Doing menial chores helped distract her from her current situation. As she scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain, her thoughts drifted to her mother doing the same thing, whether it had been something that she got on her clothes or something her father did. Maybe it was a good thing they were already dead, at least she knew that they were. Then there was Owain and Derrick and Madame Bustier… Celeste stopped that train of thought and examined the stain. It wasn’t completely gone, but it was faded enough. She hung it up and looked at the river, avoiding her reflection. She was sure that there were massive bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. It seemed like when she wasn’t trying to clear her thoughts to go to sleep, she was crying. She was tired of crying, but it seemed to be the only thing she could do.

After a few minutes, she started loading his clothes into the basket. Her hand touched something slimy. Celeste looked over and saw that her hand was on top of a grey, webbed hand that had a hold of one of Rusty’s socks. Something hissed in the bushes and her eyes were drawn to it. There were two glowing eyes, much like embers, in the darkness in the bush. She quickly withdrew her hand, but it was too late. The eyes moved and she found herself with a weight on her chest and knocked onto her back.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. It wasn’t necessarily a bad smell, but it was strong and wet, much like the smell of the river itself. But as close as it was to her, it made her eyes water a bit. She blinked a couple of times and looked at the thing currently sitting on her chest.

The goblin growled at her whenever she moved slightly, so she stopped moving. This was the first time she’d seen a live goblin and the drawings didn’t do them justice. One thing they got true was the webbed hands and the claws on the tips of their hand. But they had gotten the shape of the face wrong. Most drew them as frog-like, but it reminded her a bit more of a cat. A weird, smelly cat with sharp teeth and webbed feet.

The goblin shifted its weight and lowered its head to her face. She heard it sniffing. The one thing she knew about goblins was that they had an excellent sense of smell, but not of sight, which was probably why it didn’t notice she was about to put her hand on its own. Once it was satisfied with sniffing her, it started poking her cheek with one of its claws. It said something or she thought it did. It was a bit hard to tell if it was talking or making noises. It sounded like it could be a language.

One of its claws strayed near her eye and she recalled all the stories that Derrick had told her about warriors getting their eyes clawed out by goblins. Owain confirmed it was true, goblins always went for the eyes in a fight, so coming out of a goblin fight with a missing eye was a risk.

“Rusty!” She yelled, startling the goblin. “Help!” Celeste winced as the goblin withdrew its claw, leaving a cut on her skin. Perhaps she should’ve called earlier when there had been nothing near her eye. She kept yelling and the goblin shoved a hand over her mouth. It tasted like fish.

The goblin made a shushing noise and took the sock and threw it back in the basket. Was it trying to make some kind of peace offering? Rusty did say that there was a family of goblins not too far from his place, so they were probably aware of him and feared his presence. But it made no move to get off her, which was what she wanted.

“Get off!” she demanded, even though it was coming out muffled.

The goblin chuckled and just sat there as if it were amused at the fact that she was making demands in a situation that required more than doing so. But she was afraid to move to try and dislodge it. What if those claws went for her eyes or face?

A shadow came over both of them and the goblin was gone. The goblin screamed and kicked as Rusty held it by the scruff of its tunic. But she noticed that it didn’t try to claw or bite him.

“Finally caught you, you little pest!” He shook the goblin some. “Thought that you needed some of my clothes to go with the dishes you’ve stolen, didn’t you? Well, you’ve stepped in it now. Show me where the rest of your kinfolk are. I believe it’s time that we’ve had a little meeting.”

The goblin continued to struggle and scream, but Rusty kept his grip tight. It wasn't getting away any time soon. Rusty turned to her.

"Are you all right, Celeste?”

“I think so…” She got to her feet and felt where the cut was. It was bleeding slightly, but it wasn’t any worse than a cat scratch. Considering what happened to some people and goblin claws, she was lucky. “Do you know this goblin?”

“Personally, no. But I do know about goblins.” He started walking along the bank. “Come on, let’s go meet our neighbors and see if we can’t come to some sort of agreement. This goblin pup was most likely just trying to scare you, but it looked they could’ve seriously hurt you if they slipped up wrong.”

Celeste couldn’t say that she was looking forward to meeting more goblins. If that was a pup, that meant goblins got larger and probably meaner. She knew that there was a treaty between Feon and goblins, but had that stayed after the fall of the kingdom? But looking at the one in Rusty’s grasp, they suddenly didn’t seem so dangerous. She would keep her distance, just in case. They certainly weren’t making a good impression on her so far.

They didn’t have to go along the bank long before Rusty stopped and looked out over the water. In the middle of the river, there was a goblin head poking out halfway out of the water, with its nose barely above the water. It dived back under when it saw them. Rusty sighed and stepped into the water, though not very far.

“Hello, neighbors! You’ve been flinching my things for quite a while, so I figured I should introduce myself. My name is Russel Ironheart and I have one of your pups here!” He held the goblin out in front of him. “So unless you want me to keep him, you better come out.”

Celeste wasn’t sure what one did with a goblin pup, but she hoped that he really wouldn’t keep it. Goblins had families too, she knew that much. But fortunately, they weren’t abandoning the pup. Two goblins rose from the water while three other, smaller goblins peeked out of the water and stayed there. One adult goblin said something to Rusty.

“I don’t care that much about the things you snatched, though I would like them back or something in exchange for them.” He replied as he stepped out of the water and sat on the bank, still holding the goblin pup. He could understand them and they understood him. “What I’m more upset about is the fact that this pup was terrorizing my young friend here. You see that scratch on her? This one caused it. Luckily, she wasn’t armed so she couldn’t strike back at them.”

The one that wasn’t speaking to him turned looked at the rather guilty looking pup and spoke to it. Celeste knew the sound of a lecture anywhere and the pup merely shook their head in response. Rusty then put it down. It grabbed one of the pup’s large ears and dragged them back into the water. The other goblin came up to Celeste. She flinched as it tugged on her pants leg and backed up a little.

“It’s all right,” Rusty assured her. “I think she wants to apologize for her pup’s actions. If I understood right, that particular pup is known for causing mischief.”

Celeste looked down at the goblin. Was one supposed to keep eye contact with them? Did she want a handshake? The Matriarch met her eye and stated something, before bowing her head. Rusty translated.

“She said that she’s sorry for the trouble her oldest daughter caused you and for the hurt she inflicted. In return, they will return everything they’ve stolen and the daughter has to help you with laundry.”

“If she feels like she needs to do that, then it’s all right with me. Though I don’t know any goblin…” The feeling of unease around them probably wouldn’t go away for a while, but now that Rusty had made contact, at least they could communicate with them.

The other goblin, who she assumed was the father, swam back with a sack. He opened it, revealing various dishes, glasses, clothes, and other items. Despite the wetness of the bag, everything inside was dry. He also pulled a small container out of his pocket and handed it to the Matriarch. She offered it to Celeste.

“She says that it’s for the cut. I would take it if I were you. Goblin medicine might be smelly, but they’re the best when it comes to open wounds, better than elven medicine even.” Rusty advised as he picked up the sack. He addressed the Matriarch once again. “If you need or want something, just ask me next time and we’ll come to some sort of agreement. I know you river goblins are a rather shy bunch, but I won’t hurt you without reason.”

“And I’m sorry if I seem overly skittish. I’ve never met a goblin before.” Celeste added, feeling incredibly rude for standing so far back.

The goblin tilted her head as if she couldn’t believe what she had just heard. She then posed a question.

“She wants to know where you’ve been that you’ve never met a goblin.” Rusty closed the sack and slung it over her shoulder. “See, all camps have goblins that take care of the cleaning and such. Most of them are lake goblins as opposed to river goblins like these, but pretty much every human has met goblins.”

“I’ve been living with the elves,” Celeste told her. She hadn’t seen any goblins there. The goblin chuckled and shrugged.

“She says it’s a semi-decent cover story, but you should probably come up with a better one. You don’t act elvish enough to have been among them for that long. Not airheaded enough. I agree with her. If anything, you should say that you’ve been living with other humans in dwarven territory. That’s more believable.”

The Goblin Matriarch and the husband goblin waved and returned to the river. Celeste watched them dive down once they got deep enough.

“Do they live underwater?” She asked as she and Rusty made their way back to where she had the laundry hanging. At least they probably wouldn’t have to worry about leaving it out ever again.

“No, but they can hold their breath for a long time. There’s no telling where their home is. We could be walking on their roof right now. They burrow, but always have their holes lead out to the water, so it can’t be too far from here.”

“How did you learn to understand goblin?”

“I have quite a few goblin customers, so I guess I just picked it up.” He shifted the sack some. “I also have a book a Feonian scholar wrote about goblins and it has how to learn their language in it. You can borrow it since your goblin knowledge is a couple of decades behind.”

“A little night reading would probably do me some good.” It wasn’t like she was sleeping anyway. She might as well be doing something productive with her time. “I don’t suppose you have a book on the Renewers and Revivers.”

“It would be biased. Any scholars that survived the civil war went with the Revivers, mostly because Lord Davik isn’t fond of scholars. Says they serve little purpose but to leech off others. I agree with his sentiment, but they can provide useful information if they share it.”

Celeste nodded and her thoughts started to churn. She wasn’t sure if Owain had been considered a scholar, but he had probably made friends with several of them. He most likely went with the Revivers, if he was still alive. And where he went, Derrick would go too. That was one thing she knew would never change.