Thomas had ended up a leader.
Sitting next to the fireplace, feeling an odd rush of anxiety thunder up his spine as he did so, the sorcerer put the scrounged-up hand drum to his side and settled his lute into his lap. Alfira’s gift was an exquisite creation indeed and probably now the most precious thing he owned, a source of self-soothing during the most unfathomably stressful journey one could imagine, but tonight he hoped to use it to soothe another instead. Thomas wasn’t fully sure it would work, but, well… it felt like the right time. He was a leader! For what had been at the start a camp of mostly strangers, sure, but he’d been doing his best to learn about each and every one of them. Help take on their burdens, as much as they’d allow him to.
Ezrael Deschain was different to the others, though. Thomas had known him beforehand, and despite the fact he was becoming very aware that Ezra had always hidden a great many things from him, he still knew enough to know that the bard was very much stuck in the incorrect shape right now. There was no better way to put it. It wasn’t just because of the fuzzy memories either. Ezrael was a master musician, so profound in his craft that even during the worst of the unknown troubles he’d been experiencing back in the Gate he’d still been willing to play a fucking masterpiece if Tom asked. Music was critical to Ezra as a person, a huge part of his soul. That was all there was to it.
But he hadn’t played anything beyond a few experimental notes since Tom had found him made wretched by time and sickness, the wild covering Ezra like a thick blanket of moss. It was… it was wrong.
“Think we need to lighten the mood a bit tonight, eh?”
Twisting his hand, Thomas summoned a blue shade to match it which he directed to rest over the drum. At this point his companions were beginning to notice, turning their gazes and watching him with clear curiousity. Once it would have been Ezra garnering that kind of attention by picking up his instrument but this time Thomas would have to do the job, and maybe, in doing so, bait out the golden song. He glanced around until he met his friend’s gaze across camp and smiled, despite his own deep nerves, despite how odd It felt to make music so out in the open. It was hard to read Ezrael’s expression but Tom hoped that the slight twist of intrigue he thought he could see was real.
“Fuck knows we all need it.” Thomas plucked a string. “So I’ll give the Larkspur’s Laughter a go.”
His Mage’s Hand started things off, drumming alone until the rhythm was right and Tom felt confident enough to start the song proper and join in with his lute. It was a difficult trick to pull off, that, a clever use of the common spell, and he still wasn’t sure if it was doing things perfectly but maybe that in and of itself would help spark Ez, eh? The choice of song as well should help as well. Who didn’t love that one, for all it’s bittersweetness and despite the rough end the charismatic thief came to? The beat was joyful and the thief himself noted to never lose his sense of mischief and fun even as the executioner’s axe fell. Felt… appropriate. A good length too.
Thomas started to sing.
It took only a handful of seconds before Karlach clapped loudly and started to sway to the beat. Wyll jogged over, grin wide and eye bright as he began to sing along. Gale joined them at the fire more quietly, wine cup in hand, but he looked a little flushed and obviously pleased. One by one every single member of their camp bar the solemn Withers and stock-still Ezrael came to the fire, either joining in directly or simply taking it all in. Thomas kept his gaze directed at Ezra, though, because he was a leader, and even if he had to do this every night that circumstance allowed for, he’d do it.
For a good minute or so nothing Ezrael did nothing more, said nothing more, but the atmosphere was building into something new to their makeshift home. Why had none of them thought to do this? The answer was obvious, really, but this dash of mortal joy was quickly starting to soothe (if not eliminate) Thomas’s embarrassment and bring some sense of lightness into the understandable gloom. His rhythm started to improve as he kept going, and with Wyll singing beautifully alongside him as a guide the words of the song got louder and more emphatic. They slipped into the verse about the thief’s heist of a king’s magical crown when something finally shifted in Tom’s troubled friend.
Ezrael’s expression was still odd, but his eye widened the moment he heard the word ‘Larkspur’ said directly and he sped off. Thomas barely had time to react to that with concern before Ezrael reappeared almost as quickly as he’d vanished and practically hurled himself onto the spot right next to Tom with considerable dramatic flair, own instrument in hand and something in his face no other member of their gang would be familiar with in him.
“Tommy-boy!” That was actual fucking excitement, wasn’t it? “Let me take the lead? I know this, I know it!”
Thomas was a leader, and because he was a leader, but also a friend, he happily passed on this particular ‘lead’ with a grin and a nod. If Ezrael was only capable of half his usual potential right now he’d blow Tom out of the water… which was quickly proven to be the correct assumption. The bard slid into the song with a little rustiness but it was, frankly, immediately beautiful and bold in a way Thomas couldn’t manage in both vocals and tune. There was a spark there that had been completely absent before, too, Ezrael Deschain making his exciting return to the 'stage.' A songbird woken up, still drowsy but lured in by the charm of a larkspur.
The surprise in their companions was something to behold as well.
Cheers and joy and laughter rose as Ezrael took over the show, with Tom and Wyll backing him up, and this was natural and good, this was how things should be, even when everything else was wrong. Tom stopped with his own lute near the end, leaving only his drum striking hard so Ez could enjoy the grand finale all on his own.
Leadership was a challenge, but for every single moment like this, every note of gold released into the night sky, Thomas would gladly continue to take on the burden.