(Every character depicted in the story below is a consenting legal adult over the age of 18)

A/N: Thomas has his first truly productive conversation with someone.

-x-X-x-

“Lord Marlow? Are you in there? I’ve brought dinner…”

Just as Thomas is on the verge of a panic attack, a familiar voice drifts through the door. He blinks as he realizes the person at his door is not a murderous Camilla as he’d momentarily believed… but rather Eloise, the Mayor’s Daughter.

Dinner, she’d said? Well, given how long he’d been lost in his own thoughts, he could believe it. And the very mention of food has his stomach growling, leading him to realize how hungry he currently is. Dinner… did sound nice.

Rising from the bed, Thomas makes his way over to the door and pulls it open, plastering a smile on his face before doing so. There, standing out in the hallway holding a bowl in her hands, is Eloise. The mousy brunette jolts back a bit at the sudden opening of the door but then adopts a hesitant smile that mirrors his own as she offers up the bowl.

“I… it’s just a bowl of meat stew I’m afraid. Nothing overly special. But I d-do hope its to your liking, my Lord.”

Honestly? It immediately smells fantastic. Thomas doesn’t even have to particularly fake his eagerness as he nods and reaches forward, taking the quite warm bowl from her hands.

“Thank you Eloise, I’m sure it will be delicious.”

The brunette’s smile becomes a bit more genuine and she nods along.

“Y-Yes! I hope it lives up to your and Dame Camilla’s high standards, my Lord!”

Dame Camilla… Thomas glances over to the side, where the door to the other room next to his can be found. Eloise follows his gaze and goes a little pale.

“I-I hope you don’t mind that I gave her a bowl first my Lord, it’s just that her door was already open at the time and…”

Thomas just shakes his head though, waving it off.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Your service is appreciated, Eloise.”

There, that sounded rather nice and noble-like, didn’t it? And it wasn’t like he was about to invite her into his room or anything so…

“W-Well then… I suppose I’ll get back to it… enjoy the stew Lord Marlow.”

“Wait.”

Damn it. Thomas winces internally the moment the word passes through his lips and makes Eloise freeze in place, already half turned to begin walking away. For a beat, he considers just sending her on her way after all and leaving it for later… but no. No, he needs to stop wallowing and start getting things figured out. And that starts with nailing down one of his earlier theories a bit better.

“I actually had some questions for you, Eloise.”

Blinking, Eloise fiddles with her skirts.

“O-Oh?”

Thomas nods, but before he can speak… the sound of the other guest bedroom’s door shifting slightly gives him pause. Eloise’s eyes flicker to the side to see whatever is there to see. From his spot in his own open doorway, he can’t see anything without craning his neck and making it obvious he’s looking… but he can certainly make educated guesses. Such as the educated guess that Camilla is probably right at her door right now, holding it open a crack and listening in on this conversation.

… But he decides then and there that he doesn’t care. He’s not going to let the likes of Dame Camilla scare him. Sure, she may be a Sword of Damocles hanging over his head, but Thomas couldn’t and wouldn’t live the rest of his life in fear, regardless of how long that life was to be. Ignoring Camilla’s presence, he focuses his attention entirely on Eloise.

“Exactly how long has your father been bedridden?”

Eloise blinks at the question, furrowing her brow and hesitating just a bit before answering.

“Some time now, my Lord. Since… since close to the start of the year.”

Well that didn’t help him very much did it? Fuck, he was going to look stupid for this but...

"And how many months is that, exactly?"

He does get a rather weird look from the Mayor’s Daughter for such a dumb question, but unlike Camilla, Eloise seems more inclined to humor him, thankfully.

“S-Six months, my Lord.”

Six months. Half a year. That was a long time. His earlier theory seems to be gaining more and more weight by the second.

“Six months… six months of Last Hope’s Mayor being bedridden.”

Eloise flinches and bites her lower lip.

“Y-Yes… my father thought he would recover at first. We didn’t want to alarm anyone in the Capital or make it seem like we couldn’t t-take care of ourselves out here… that’s why we didn’t send word…”

Thomas knows an excuse when he hears one. A weak excuse at that. Eloise had probably been the one to make the decision to keep her father’s condition quiet. And the fact that everyone else went along with it showed just how beloved her and Mayor Harper were by the residents of Last Hope.

“Just so we’re clear, I don’t care that you didn’t send word, Eloise.”

“Wha- you… you don’t?”

Smiling, Thomas shakes his head.

“Nope.”

He pops the ‘p’, even as he looks down at the hearty stew in his hands. After a moment’s thought, he takes the wooden spoon and shovels some of it into his mouth. Its perfect temperature… and perfect taste too. The meat chunks practically melt in his mouth while the vegetables crunch just right. He chews and swallows before looking back to Eloise and smiling appreciatively.

“Delicious.”

She looks uncertain of whether to be pleased by the praise or nervous about the overall interaction. Flashing her another grin, Thomas explains himself.

“Like I said, I don’t care about you not sending word. What I care about is the state of this town. As it is right now, six months in after its Mayor has become bedridden. And frankly, what I’ve seen is most impressive.”

Eloise had been tensing up, like she was expecting him to start deriding the place. But while Thomas might not know what ‘good’ and ‘bad’ truly looked like seeing as he just arrived in this world today, Last Hope at least didn’t appear like it was on its last legs or anything like that. It didn’t seem to be falling apart, at least from a cursory glance.

“Ah… impressive, m-my Lord?”

Taking another bite of stew, Thomas nods as he chews and swallows.

“Yes. You folk out here are a hearty, sturdy bunch aren’t you? Even with your father in his current state, the people of Last Hope have rallied together, haven’t they?”

Straightening up and squaring her shoulders, Eloise puffs her chest out unconsciously in unthinking pride.

“Y-Yes! Yes we have!”

Smirking, Thomas goes for the kill.

“The only question is… who exactly did they rally around?”

Eloise falters, taken aback by the question.

“Um… I don’t…”

Thomas cuts her off.

“Let me offer a theory and you can tell me whether it’s true or not. From where I’m standing, this town is only doing as well as it is… because of you, Eloise. These past six months, your father has been laid up in bed… and you’ve picked up the slack. You’ve taken his duties as Mayor upon yourself and not only kept him in comfort but also kept the town from falling apart as well. The other denizens of Last Hope might have done their parts… but you, Eloise, are the one who has been leading them all for half a year now.”

Eloise looks pale… possibly because she thinks he’s judging and condemning her for what she’s done. But that couldn’t be further from the truth… rather, it’s the exact opposite.

“I say all of this not because I’m angry or upset… but because I really am impressed with you, Eloise. And more than that, I want you to keep doing what you’re doing.”

That last sentence makes Eloise’s eyes widen and her jaw drop open in disbelief as a gasp leaves her lips. Thomas also thinks he hears a sound from the door next to his, as though Camilla is also shocked by his words… but he continues to operate under the pretense that the Lady Knight isn’t listening in on their conversation. Remaining focused entirely on Eloise, he watches her come to terms with what he’s suggesting.

“But… I… I’m just a girl, my Lord. You… you have the Gift of Leadership, d-don’t you? You’re an actual noble. So… you would be more fit to lead Last Hope than I, surely?”

He didn’t think Eloise was a bad person, but he also didn’t really know her that well yet. And he certainly wasn’t going to start talking about the Gift of Relentless Potential anywhere within possible earshot of Camilla, that was for sure. So instead of talking about his Gift and what it was or wasn’t, Thomas turns the conversation around on the mousy brunette.

“And what is your Gift, Eloise?”

Blinking at the sudden question, Eloise hesitates for a moment before glancing down at the bowl in his hands.

“The… the G-Gift of Cooking, Lord Marlow. I inherited it from my mother…”

The Gift of Cooking. Well, he couldn’t deny that she made a stupendously delicious meat stew. Nodding along amicably, Thomas continues to smile.

“And yet, for the past six months you’ve been holding the town of Last Hope together with nothing but your own mind and talent. No Gift of Leadership needed… just a whole lot of determination and guts, as well as people willing to listen to you. Let me tell you a little secret that the nobility back in the Capital don’t want you to know… Gifts aren’t everything.”

Eloise stares at him like he’s just said pink elephants are real or something. Her jaw is slack and her eyes are searching his face as though she might find some sign of deceit or that he’s just playing games with her.

She’s not just going to believe him, is she? Well then, maybe he can ‘trust’ her with something else besides the strangeness of his Gift…

“Do you know why I’m here in Last Hope, Eloise? If you thought it was because the Capital finally caught wind of your father’s condition, you’d be wrong.”

“I… then no, my Lord. I don’t know why.”

“Hm. I was banished.”

Eloise’s eyes widen all over again at that, her lips mouthing the word ‘banished’ as he chuckles and shrugs.

“They’ve blamed me for a crime I did not commit.”

True.

“Without evidence, without proof, it was decided that I was guilty all the same.”

Also true, if the journal entry was to be believed.

“Because they couldn’t prove it, they sent me here to Last Hope instead of just locking me up. This is a banishment in all but name, a punishment for actions I did not take, crimes I had no part in.”

Also all true. After all, even if the original Thomas Marlow HAD done the things he stood accused of… Thomas wasn’t that man. He was his own person and he refused to be saddled with the actions of another, no matter what the circumstances.

Finally, Eloise shudders.

“But… that’s not right. That’s not justice…”

Shaking his head, Thomas chuckles.

“No, it’s really not. The truth, Eloise, is that they sent me out here with every expectation that I would fail. What do I know about leading a town like this one? Even with the Gift of Leadership, how am I supposed to keep you and your people safe from the Rotlands and the Darkwoods when I have absolutely no experience with either?”

He continues on without waiting for an answer to his questions.

“You are the one who has lived here all your life. You’re the one with the experience with both the folk of this town and the surrounding environments. Those who banished me here no doubt expect me to be an arrogant little twat who lords my supposed superiority over all of you until we all wind up dead from this or that external threat.”

Leaning forward, Thomas stares intently into Eloise’s eyes, the brunette almost seeming to be lost in his monologuing, caught up in his rhythm. It feels good to actually be listened to by someone after the day he’s had so far. No disdain. No distrust. No anger. Just… listening.

“I’m not going to play their games, Eloise. I’m not going to let you or your people die just because they want to see me fail. That’s why… I want you to keep doing what you’ve been doing. You’re the best possible leader for Last Hope right now. So I’m going to stay out of your way as much as possible, understood?”

Looking a little dazed, Eloise slowly nods… before furrowing her brow.

“But then… what are you going to be doing, my Lord?”

Thomas smiles and shrugs.

“Whatever I can to help. Whatever you need from me, I’ll make myself available to you, alright? Have some boxes for me to move? Let me know. Have some crops that need collecting? I’m your guy. I’ll come to you each day for any tasks that need doing around town… and any training you think the other townsfolk might be able to give me so that I can help out even more in the future.”

He knows it sounds crazy, but this is the best way Thomas can see to get what he needs. The Gift of Relentless Potential demands to be fed, namely by him ‘striving’. It’s vague… but in this case, vague might turn out to be beautiful. So long as he keeps moving forward, so long as he continues to strive to learn and become stronger… then shouldn’t he never quite stop growing?

For now, that was just a hypothesis… but Thomas had high hopes for his Gift. He just needed to test it and what better way than to throw himself at the mercies of the very woman that his ‘bodyguard’ thought he had ill intentions towards? Let’s see Dame Camilla look down upon him for this!

“I… I couldn’t p-possibly order you around my Lord, it wouldn’t be p-proper…”

Of course, he still has to convince Eloise as well.

“Then give me ‘suggestions’ and I’ll see what I can do. At the end of the day, Eloise… don’t see me as your Lord. See me as a fresh pair of hands come to make your and your father’s life easier. Especially if these are to be his final days.”

That brings a shadow over Eloise’s face, her lips curling down into a sad frown. Hoping to distract her, Thomas lobs out one last ‘grenade’ of sorts.

“And please… call me Thomas.”

That wipes away her sadness at least, replacing it with mortification and horror built up from society’s expectations instead.

“I-I couldn’t possibly, Lord Marlow!”

Humming, Thomas raises a single brow.

“And what if I make it an order, huh?”

Eloise looks stricken by that, like she doesn’t know which way she’d have to land if he did so. In the end, Thomas takes mercy on the poor young woman and shakes his head.

“I won’t. You can call me whatever you want, in the end. Just know that if you need me… I’m here to help. Not to lead. Nor to take over. And certainly not to kick you and your father out of your home. Only to help. Alright?”

She looks torn between not trusting it… and wanting to believe him with all her heart. In the end though, all she can really do is hesitantly nod.

“A-Alright…”

Thomas smiles at her and takes a step back, grabbing the door with one hand.

“Then I’ll see you in the morning, Eloise.”

“… Very well.”

With that, he closes the door… and positively scarfs down the rest of the meat stew. Its gotten a little cold, but every remaining bite still tastes delicious, possibly better than anything he’d ever eaten back on Earth. The Gift of Cooking was no joke and Thomas supposed he could understand why people in this world put so much stock into Gifts in general if that was what they were capable of.

Alas, he didn’t have the Gift of Leadership himself, so he was dead serious about not wanting to risk the lives of every person in Last Hope by trying to muddle through. This town had done just fine with Eloise in charge these past six months… and hopefully with him backing her up, it’d do just fine for some time to come.

In the meantime, Thomas wasn’t going to be treating this like some region management tale. No, he was planning to go the more traditional route of becoming the overpowered fighter who spent all of his time growing stronger and stronger with no end or ceiling in sight.

Hopefully, anyways. They would see what actually happened… starting tomorrow.

-x-X-x-

A/N: Hope people like Eloise so far~ She’s obviously intended to be a big part of the story, heh. But then so is Camilla… we’ll get our red haired warrior woman on board eventually though I’m sure.

Please let me know what you think either on Patreon or Discord! Your feedback, suggestions, and ideas for this story are keeping the inspiration flowing in a big way!