#fom-drabbles

"How is it that you keep finding all of these priceless artifacts?" Eiland sounded mystified as he sifted through your bag bulging with weird trinkets, scrolls and jewelry that you found buried in the oddest places. "I almost want to steal your hands! Ah, but that's a little too morbid isn't it? I'm sorry."

"No need, no need," you waved away, settling into a chair that you're very sure wasn't your actual chair. "Hey, did you replace my chair again?"

"Hmm?" He pulled his gloved hands out, shaking the dust off. "Oh, yes I switched it out to match mine. But," Eiland tilted his head away from you, tips of his ears flushing as if realizing how weird that might've been, "if you want the other chair back, I can go get it."

"Nah, just wanted to know." His shoulders relaxed and an urge rose up in you. Prompted you to say, "It's cute." And there goes the back of his neck, taken over by the rushing blood and beating of his heart. Looked like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. Oh the power you hold over this man.

"T-thank you." Eiland managed to get out, trying to hard to keep his hands steady as he opened a little treasure you found sitting at the bottom of the sea. Contained a set of pearl bracelets, kept pristine. Amazing. Speaks of how well the box was made if it can keep the water away. "Oh, let me gather some books, I just know I've seen these somewhere. Let's see, the writing inside the bracelets could potentially be a name, but the length of it suggests it could be a phrase. Perhaps a blessing? Oh, or a possible confession? Oh, I'm just kidding."

He pushed a stepping stool to his bookshelf and reached up to the highest shelf. When he started to stand on his toes, you got up and walked over. On any other day, a hand on his lower back would have him jumping and probably landing in your arms, but…

"I think these bracelets might originate from the age of the Witch Queens, perhaps a tribute to them? But in that case I would have to enlist Juniper for help with translation, but no matter how I go with raising a bargain with her, she never accepts! Refuses to layout terms for me to follow even! Though, that's assuming what's written on the bracelets is Witchspeak. I actually suspect it might be a heavily transformed dialect of Witchspeak." Eiland's clearly in the zone, took your hand in stride and even used your shoulder to balance himself as he jumped. Finally swiping the book he was looking for, Eiland skipped off the stool and jogged to his desk. He flipped through the pages, voice quieting to a mutter as he speed through the contents.

It's always fun to watching him flit around his office like this. Going back and forth from the shelf to the artifacts while spouting random facts and odd little bit. Always glows the brightest like this, clearly loving as the past slowly gains more shape in his mind. One of the main reasons why you go out of your way to find him these things.

You sat down in Eiland's chair this time, and the oddness of you on this specific side of the room got him lifting his eyes. They sparkled in interest still, like he was waiting for you to give a signal for him to unleash more of his thoughts to you. Instead, you waved him closer.

Eiland raised an eyebrow, but went around his desk nonetheless. "Yes?"

You reached out and brushed your fingers under his chin, caressing the side of his jaw. The red bloomed over his cheeks, and he almost flinched but reigned it in. He leaned towards your hand, murmuring your name into your palm as he closed his eyes.

"Eiland."

"Hmm?" His voice has taken on a dreamy quality, riding high on a cloud from a festive day of newly discovered artifacts and your affection.

"Look at me." You gently gripped his chin, angling his face towards yours.

"Mm, okay." Slowly, he opened his eyes. The energy once danging in them has slowly faded, but the intensity still laid there nonetheless. It was warm, unwilling to look away from your own eyes, and if you were the sole subject of interest. A smile slowly spread across his face. You suspect he doesn't even realize it.

"You always look beautiful like this," you whispered as you pulled Eiland closer, "entirely consumed by your passions like this. I like watching you focus like this."

"…on the artifacts or on you?" You can tell he wanted to shrink inside his clothes, but that would mean not feeling your hands on his face.

"Both." You brought him closer still, and just when Eiland closed his eyes and puckered his lips a bit, you pressed foreheads instead. "It also doesn't help that you're easy to tease."

It took a bit of convincing, really, to get Caldarus to lay on his bed and let you take off his clothing. It was funny to see the way his face went entirely blank when you bluntly told him that, and it was equally hilarious to see it pinch up in confusion when you explained you just wanted to feel his body. You were curious about it. Wanted to see what made his body different from your human one. There weren’t any ulterior motives to you. Never have been.

And, judging by the way he frowned for a split second before saying yes, Caldarus was hoping you had something else in mind. For someone as ancient as him, he was very easy to tease.

But, now you’re here. Late into the night, long after you’ve both finished your daytime chores. The bugs in the night chirping away their songs, the birds shuffling into their nests, and the wind caressing them all good night. There was nothing to worry about, besides the dragon-made-mortal laid upon his very plush bed, his legs around your waist as you pulled at the tie holding his outfit, and his composure, together.

As soon as the knot was undone, Caldarus hid his eyes under the back of his hand, his lips tight and biting the inside of his cheek. His tail thumped against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“I can stop if you want,” you said, already beginning to close his layers together, but he blindly reached out until he found your knuckles.

“No no, just,” his entire face darkened until even the tips of his ears weren’t spared, “continue, please. I’m not…uncomfortable, if that’s your worry.”

You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t fight him on it. “Alright.”

Caldarus’s body, beneath all those multi-layered clothing he wore no matter how hot the temperatures may get, was a thin thing. His skin, an ashen color that nearly made him look no different than his statue, hugged his rib-cage. Thumbing over the lowest ribs, you can tell how little fat there was. If you wanted to, you could just, sink your fingers into the spaces between. You could pretty much grab his heart if you wanted to. And, knowing Caldarus…

“For years, I’ve grown accustomed to wearing little, save for ceremonial decorations when the need calls, but…” he peeked from under his hand, gold eye glinting with warmth, and an underlying fear, “Now, with your hands on me, and in this form I, I…”

If he could, he’d probably give it to you on a silver platter. Such is the depths of his devotion.

You dragged your hands down, callouses catching onto his skin, making Caldarus’s legs twitch and his chest trembling with stuffed laughter. Ticklish. Well, you didn’t know this before. You lightly pinched his waist, and laughed when he tried to twist his way out of your grasp.

“Is, was this your goal?!” Caldarus sat up on his elbows, eyebrows pinched as he tried to look angry at you. He was not doing a very good job at it, since he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. His hair, spilled over the edges of his bed, tangled in his horns from all that squirming you were making him do.

“Nope.” And it was true. “I didn’t even know I could tickle you. Couldn’t help myself, sorry.”

You shrugged your shoulders. You weren’t sorry for anything and he knew that. But, even with that knowledge, Caldarus settled back on his bare back. His legs returned to hugging your waist, the weight almost a comfort, heavy as they were. And his tail, once kept away from you because of how sharp the bones there are, curled around your form, and if settling down for sleep.

“Don’t tease me too much, it makes my heart beat so fast that I can barely think of anything besides you,” he whispered, as if what he said was some forbidden secret he’s still ashamed of.

“Can’t make any promises on that, Caldarus. You know this.” You moved the last of his clothing aside, watching for any signs, any sudden tightening muscle that you’re taking this too far. He did tense, but relaxed not a moment later.

"You've been visiting a lot lately." Ryis wasn't even at the bottom at the stairs before you noticed him. Sweat was barely beginning to dot your brow as you threw another handful of seeds into the moist soil. It was a little late into the afternoon, and you still weren't done setting up your future crops. A hard worker of the highest quality, and it got his hands tingling again to grab his hammer and chisel and just…make something. Something nice that would get you smiling.

And give him compliments.

And maybe hold his hand as thanks--

Hold up, he's supposed to be paying attention.

"That isn't a bad thing is it? I have a lot of free time since we just finished another big project, and I… kinda don't know what to do with myself if I'm being honest. Haha." He didn't talk too much did he? But, Ryis wasn't lying. As much as he loves working on his craft, he doesn't think of himself as a workaholic. Woodworking needs his hands and there's only so far one can push them before they begin to fail on you. But the trouble with taking breaks is that it gives one space to think. Thinking leads to fantasies, fantasies leads to yearning and…

Well, here he is. At your farm. Like you weren't haunting his every waking thought. His heart was nowhere near ready, but Ryis wasn't going to start avoiding you just because of that. You're his friend and, frankly, he liked being around you. Liked watching you work because you can do so many different things.

There's nothing wrong with a little crush, he just wished it didn't clock him sideways every time you do…well anything.

It's bad. He'll admit, it's real bad.

You wiped at your brow and tossed another set of seeds. "No need to feel bad on my account. If sitting on the benches and watching me fill the soil is your idea of fun, then by all means. I don't mind." You shrugged before pocketing your empty bag and gave your body a good, spine-popping stretch. Ryis forced his eyes to the side, trying to give less fuel to the fluttering threatening to give him a heart attack. "I like your company."

It didn't work. Ryis was sure his face could match the temperature of March's forge. If he caught on fire now, Ryis was pretty sure he'd just let it happen. There would be no regrets.

Luckily, you built the benches nearby so Ryis could pretend he was flopping himself down on them out of exhaustion and not because his knees gave out on him. It was made of stone. Very cool against his heated skin.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Suddenly, you were right next to him, hand pressed on his upper back probably to make sure Ryis was breathing right. He was not, so he had to clamp down on that before you thought he was having an emergency.

"N-nothing," Ryis managed to squeeze out, "just feel like I'm living in a dream."

Why did he say that.

You blinked, then snorted. "Alright, if you say so." You gave a couple of firm pats as a joke before you turned around. You waved to your house and said over your shoulder, "help yourself to the fridge. I got plenty of things in there."

Ryis waved back, no longer trusting his voice to not say anything obvious.

"It's probably gonna be a little more intense than a simple hug, Hayden." You closed the door behind you as soon as you saw the last of your animals go into their barns and coops. "You sure you have the time? If you have anything to do, I won't shame you for leaving."

"I made my promises and I'm sticking to them. It's not any trouble at all, don't worry about it!" Hayden gave a strong pat to your back, giving a hearty chuckle as you held back a cough.

"Alrighty, alrighty," you gave a low laugh of your own, waving towards the couch. "Take a seat, then."

He wasted no time and practically bounced towards it. You followed, at a more leisurely pace. You didn't think inviting him over would put him in this good a mood. He's even whistling a tune as you were sitting down.

"You really like being at my house, huh?" You tapped the side of his head and smiled when that surprised him. Yeah, you made it clear you're calling him over just to have a cuddle session, but you suppose it hasn't hit him yet. You were many things and openly affectionate was not really one of them.

He recovered soon enough and leaned in way too much, pretending to be that little calf, all the way down to flopping over on the couch in a limp pile. That got a small snort out of you and that was enough to have Hayden beaming.

Hayden righted himself, pushing his hair back with one hand. "I can't help being a little excited. I haven't gotten a letter from you in a while and, frankly, I like seeing you."

"Right, right, you do." Hayden doesn't make it a secret, how much he liked being around you. Made it real easy to talk to him about…well anything really. He pays attention to any inane thing you have to say like it was something worthy of interest. And tends to come over to your farm with many a housewarming gift. Little things, little excuses just to pop on by and talk to you.

It's why you felt he would be the right person to go to for your current urges. You turned to Hayden and opened your arms for a hug. Being who he is, Hayden did not hesitate to scoot himself right in. It was nice, but this was one of his classic bear hugs. A part of his morning greetings. It didn't scratch the itch underneath your skin.

So you pulled him closer, pressed your bodies together until Hayden was practically on your lap. When you brushed against his hair and lightly scratched the back of his neck, Hayden shivered then froze like a deer in headlights.

"Haha, not used to these kinds of things?" Hayden didn't pull away, so you tugged him closer by the elbows. His eyes were wide, but he went with the motions until you were both finally laying down. "When I say cuddling, I did mean cuddling."

You pulled away just enough to see Hayden's flushed face, his mouth just the slightest big agape. "Thanks for this, it's been a while since I've done this with anyone." You had people back at the guild, but they weren't quite…as open to the idea of this. Of just hugging and holding one another without any kinds of strings attached. And those that do agree usually forced themselves to out of obligation, making for some very stiff cuddling.

You were a little worried that you may have pushed Hayden into this. But that doesn't seem to be the case here.

"Oh, yeah," Hayden, finally knocked out of his stupor, let his weight just relax against you. Settle in closer, actually, making the wood of the couch you're both on creak a bit. "It's not a problem with me. I told you, if you need anything from me, just give me a shout and I'll come running."

Slowly, but surely, the weight of day seeped out of you. You threading your fingers through Hayden's hair, pulling a little bit at the bottom just to make him shiver again. He didn't pull away, instead he stuffed his face into your shoulder.

Then puffed air onto your skin like a horse.

"Hayden!" You laughed.

If there's anything that March can admit to liking about you, it's that you don't interact with him more than needed. You keep to yourself well enough, but that's because he knows you don't plan on settling down here. Or making yourself too comfy. Means you're listening to him and that you took his words to heart, at least. But still, that only makes it more apparent that you don't actually care for the people here at all. It's all just an easy buck, and an easy slide into the good graces of everyone else so you can use that for later. He knows how it works.

You have no business being here, so while he can be…amiable about this singular aspect about you, he wishes you'd just shove off already. Pack up and disappear back into the Capital. It's just a matter of pushing himself. He just has to work harder, really hone in his craft so he can earn enough for Mistria to go back to it's usual pace. This place doesn't need anyone else, nor should it force itself to make room for them.

And yet, March can see that people here are opening up their hearts to you. They're friendly people by nature, he knows that, he just wishes they'd…well, no, he doesn't wish for them to be more closed off. Maybe more cautious, but even that's a slippery slope of a thought. If Mistria wasn't as friendly and open-hearted as it was, then they probably wouldn't have tolerated March as much as they have.

Ah, it's all so frustrating, and that's what powers March's every strike against the red hot iron shovel he's currently pounding into shape. Ryis was in need of one. Said he found an old stump he wanted to dig out and use its wood for a nice table or something. He hasn't decided. March has a shovel and he could've given it to him, but it was worn down. He deserves something new.

Now if only you weren't just a few feet away, taking up his brother's time. He's about the friendliest person on the block, but that doesn't make it okay to make him your mark. But March can't very well shout at you to leave since you're not that close either. He'd look stupid if he yelled, that and the shovel's almost finished. And knowing Olric, he'd frown at him in that very specific way he does when he wants March to behave.

So, March, despite his urge to go over there and and shoo you away since you're supposed to be busy with whatever Adeline gave you, focused back on the task at hand. Forced himself to empty his mind of all things besides the forge. None of Olric's happy gabbing about his muscles, or of you pulling up your own sleeves to show your own hard-earned ones, or of the way your face eased into something…something a little ni--

No. None of that. The forge. Just focus on the forge.

But, just as March looked down and lifted his hammer up, he heard a strong, "Whoa!" out of Olric.

It didn't send March into a panic, but it did startle him right out of his working zone. He looked up, and nearly lost all grip on his hammer when he saw you lifting Olric high in the air by the waist. Effortlessly, your face still clear of any worries, as if you're having a nice, relaxing time, meanwhile Olric was dangling from your grip.

Olric's eyes, once wide with surprise, began to sparkle with joy and a deep admiration for a fellow strong one. He swung his feet around and grasped your shoulders. "Whoa! You weren't kidding! You really can carry me like a bag of feathers."

You laughed. "Told ya. I'm used to carrying a lot back in the Capital. Sometimes that included people. There's not a person here I couldn't carry with ease."

"Oh, now I gotta test that! Hey, when Friday comes around, I'll get everyone get to take a turn with you. I'll see if I can get March on board!"

"So, is there any name you wanna give the little guy?"

"Hmm," you tilted your head to the side and watched as this little yellow bird copied you. It stared at you with little beady eyes, not a single thought present inside that tiny skull, fluffy skull. Besides food, sleep and the warmth of the sun, obviously. "I don't know. I don't really give names until way later in life."

"Haha!" Hayden clapped your shoulder as soon as you pushed yourself up, putting his entire body into his laughter. Made it sound full, as if to tell the world that his joy is true and profound. When he finally noticed that you were giving a smile that didn't match his energy, he stopped. "Wait, is that true?"

"Mm-hmm." You nodded, tilted your leg away when you noticed the chick pecking at the stray threads of your pants. "I didn't even name my pets when they came into my life at first. Just called them cat, dog, fish, lizard, the works."

Hayden's eyes were wide, the gears in his head trying to turn but clearly chugging a little bit. Eventually he settled on staring at the chick that has climbed and settled into the dip of your boot, tired from just existing. Being so small must be hard work for the little guy.

You suppose the thought of anyone not really naming their precious creatures might baffle someone like Hayden a little bit. He has all kinds of animals at his farm and you've heard him hollering from them when they get too far for his heart. They're silly names, if a little excessive, but in that excess lies just how much he loves them. Not really a man that does things by the halves.

So, to have a newcomer come in, who is going to be in the same line of work as him, he probably expected…someone similar to him. Or someone he can understand and click with as fellow tillers of the earth. And when you finally saved enough money and materials to both build a coop and purchase a chicken, Hayden was practically bouncing on his feet despite exhausting himself from carrying all that chopped wood into his shed.

He's a very open heart, and wears just about everything on his hands. You didn't miss the way his eyes dimmed a little when you let another fact about yourself slip. It wasn't disappointment. Just…confusion.

Something finally clicked in Hayden's expression and the brightness returned to his face. Almost as hard to look at as the sun despite all the earthly tones he wears.

"Well, I guess late is better than never!" His hand clasped your shoulder again before pulling you into a side hug. You didn't return it, but you let him have these few minutes. Before this hug got too long, before he gets lost in his own thoughts from staring and touching you, and before you could put a name to whatever he's feeling for you, you rolled your shoulders. You picked up the chick and patted it's sleepy head.

"When the name comes, it'll probably be something silly." Silly and simple, so that it rolls off the tongue.

"Silly to you. I bet this chick will grow up to be a fine hen, and wear that name with pride one day!"

It’s certainly not the best use of your time, especially this early in the morning where the crops and animals demand all of your attention, but you like to take long walks before you get everything started. When the roosters crow in their pens and the winds touch upon the leaves and sprouts of your growing plants, you can’t help the little urge nipping at you to walk around a bit. To truly take in the greenery before you walk onto the weathered stone path of Mistria and have no choice but to begin your day.

You’ll admit, it’s a bit difficult to adjust, moving here after all those years enjoying the conveniences of the populous and ever-evolving capital, but you’re here now. And now that you’re here, perhaps you can finally just... vanish. As your family did. As your village did.

Isn’t that the fate of all small-town folk that refuse to leave their failing homes?

...the trees here seem alive to you. They don’t dance but they sway to a melody you’ll never understand but enjoy nonetheless. The sea laps away at the cliff far ahead of you, calm enough to easily tune out, but not so quiet as to concern you. There was a dirt path you could walk on, but you’ve taking to stepping on the grass with your old farming boots, just because the crunch scratched at your brain a certain way. Made you kinda wish that this grass was as tall as your shoulders, just so you can experience the feeling of a running through it. You used to chase away hares like that, way back when you were just a little thumbtack of a kid.

Look at you, getting lost in your own head and you’ve barely taken a few steps away from your farm. You’re still grazing your palm over the smooth wooden fence, never having to worry about getting a splinter with how well it’s made.

And just before you could take your arm off to go around the tree that blocks your path, you heard a very distinct, very sharp set of clucks right below you.

“Oh.” Two black beady eyes stare right up at you from a red feathered face, with a fancy little bow that moved with her bobbing head. By all appearances, this little miss was the picture of proper, had it not been for the bits of clumped mud and sand beneath her talons. “Hello to you too, Henrietta. Seems you’ve been on quite the adventure this morning.”

Her plumage fluttered, tail wagging a little before she flapped herself onto a wooden post before you could prepare yourself. She took the time to preen her feathers down, as if noticing the state her excitement put her in. A prize-winning chicken such as herself must always be looking her best, even after going on an adventure.

“So, what do you have for me today?” What tales does she hold in her little chicken head? You relaxed yourself against the tree, enjoying the shade it brought you as Henrietta prepared her lungs for her long and grand tale.

From her wing plummage, Henrietta pulls out a lumpy pearl, a golden pen damaged by the sea and sand, and a piece of fabric that clearly came from a ripped swimsuit. Placing a claw on the pearl, she began to cluck and crow.