Chapter Text
"I'm telling you, Asterix, we should go and have a talk with the Romans after dinner, they are bad influence."
"Bad influence on the boars. Yeah, they'll like to hear that, Obelix. You should tell that to old Jules next time we see them. I'd love to see his reaction."
A tall, well-developed Gaul in blue-white striped trousers looked down on his much smaller friend in disdain.
"You are not taking this seriously, Asterix, I mean, what good would that do? It is not Jules that sneaks through the forest every day, showing them hideouts and teaching them to walk on tiptoe"
"Boars always walk on tiptoe, Obelix. They are called hooves."
Obelix sniffed: "You're all fun and games now, but without MY hunting dog…" He pointed towards the black and white spot that was currently Dogmatix, half obscured from view by the bushes he was investigating, before he continued: "YOU would be eating Unhygienix' Lutetia-imported fish. Not that I am saying there is no good food over in Lutetia, he just picks out all the wrong stuff. We should go there and seek out some addresses for him."
Asterix rolled his eyes at the pointlessness of their conversation. Still, he could not resist to counter:
"I wouldn't be so sure, Bravura is getting better every day. She might give Dogmatix a run for his money soon."
Obelix beamed at him. He loved it when Asterix forget about his resolve not to accept the name he had chosen for the most obstinate part of Dogmatix' off-spring. He cheered up even more when Dogmatix gave an enthusiastic bark and raced off at inhuman speed.
"You gave him magic potion again?" Asterix shook his head.
Well, he makes better use of it than you, hurry up a little!"
The last part of Obelix’s speech sounded a little far away, since he sprinted after his dog with equal speed. Rolling his eyes again, Asterix set to catch up with them. He had already taken his swig of potion, because all jokes aside, the wild boars did get harder to find every day.
A few moments later, Obelix was carrying two boars under his arms, and Asterix had one over his shoulder. Obelix was just about to come back on the point he was trying to make earlier, when an unfamiliar voice interrupted him:
"Quite an impressive way of hunting you young men have."
A few meters in front of them, an old man was leaning on what seemed to be a walking stick. Asterix looked around, not a little surprised. He had not seen the old man approaching them. Yet, there he was, right in front of them. The man seemed rather fragile; a tangled beard, his travelling cloak frayed at the edges. He looked like someone who could use a few meals in a Belgian village, thin to the point of being bony. In his younger years, he had to have been quite tall, but today his back was crooked. He leant forward, seemingly squeezing his eyes to observe them.
Obelix had already walked up to the stranger.
"Impressive and effective, look!" He held out the two wild boars so the old man could investigate.
"Most effective indeed. Tell me, is everyone around here this fast? I'm an old man, maybe I'm just getting slower myself, but it seems to me you two move like lightning."
Obelix was eager to explain: "It's because I fell into the magic potion, when I was little." He threw Asterix a sideward glance, expecting his friend to drop in. Instead, he found Asterix immobile, his hand on his chin, one wing of his helmet straight up, while the other was bent. Asterix was always a bit more reluctant, to address strangers. Since he did not explain his own super strength, Obelix continued:
"But for Asterix..."
Suddenly Asterix jumped to life. He cut Obelix's sentence off : "It didn't do much for my size," Asterix said, with a little smile. "But yeah, I also fell into some magic potion back at our home village and the effect has lasted ever since. It is quite handy. Pity the druid who used to make it left.”
Obelix had to think Asterix had lost his marbles. And it showed. He moved his mouth like a fish, opening and closing it several times, without a sound. Trying to distract the stranger from his best friends' odd behaviour, Asterix offered: "Maybe you would like to come and share lunch with us? You shouldn't wander the forest, it tends to get a little busy sometimes. Romans, wild animals..."
Asterix trailed off. Had he stopped talking of his own volition? Something tugged at the corners of his mind, halting both his sentence hand his partly outstretched hand. Paralysed, he watched the old man grow taller; he no longer used his walking stick and his eyes bore a darkish gleam.
"Not to worry, my friend, I can still stand my ground." The stranger let his eyes pass over Obelix. A wave of panic filled Asterix. He jumped in front of his friends, relieved to find that at least his legs did not refuse service.
The stranger blinked at him "I have other occupations right now, but it is always nice to make new acquaintances. Good day gentleman, enjoy your meals."
He turned and walked away. There was no rush in his pace. A friendly dismissal. As if he was just another villager with some previous appointment. But only when the man was well out of view, Asterix felt his power to speak return; the control over his vocal cords returned so suddenly he almost yelped. Half-set on following the stranger, he stepped forward.
Obelix grabbed his shoulder, his hand firm as a vice: "Are you KIDDING me?" You fell into the magic potion too?"
Asterix was startled: "Obelix, did you not just feel..."
"Completely and utterly stunned?" Obelix interrupted. "Yes! Falling into the magic potion is not something to joke about. You WERE joking right?" Obelix shook him back and forth a little, which added to the dizziness Asterix felt, both over the situation and over how it completely escaped his larger friend, once again. There was no telling whether they had experienced the same thing.
"Of course I was," Asterix mumbled. He took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. "It was not a joke though. It just seemed better not to let this man know we have a druid who supplies us with magic potion."
Obelix frowned. "Well, that won't be a secret for long, the Romans never quit nagging about it. They even instruct boars to be sneaky, let alone wandering old men."
"You're right," Asterix answered. "I think it is better to return home and inform the rest of the village. And Getafix."
Yes. Getafix needed to know, about this. Asterix quickened his pace.
Obelix jogged after him: "OR we could visit the Roman camps and convince them to keep the magic potion a secret," he proposed eagerly.
"I have a feeling we'd better not show off in front of this guy, Obelix, let's go home."
Asterix' tone was so soft, that Obelix did not press the matter. Something was off. Obelix noticed that much.
While they set course for their home village, neither of them noticed the small figure that had been listening in on their conversation and that now carefully pursued them through the summer-green forest. Like a shadow, she slid from tree, to tree, neglected by all but the old man with the gleaming eyes. But he had other occupations…
For now.