#vollux

The attack had devastated more than just the lands and the resources. So many lives were lost in the pillaging. Too many, in fact, but he will always see their names before the others. Donald McGalfrey, Saerick McGalfrey, Kat McGaflrey, Mackenzee McGalfrey…

Haemish. Haemish who had just become Lord Consort to the woman he loved and father to two beautiful children. Twins who won’t know him beyond the few pictures the survived the fires, and one or two holovids of his wedding day. And he knew at least one of them was not for young eyes.

He remembers the sickening smell of smoke and burnt flesh when the miners were brought back in from out of the biome and into the artificial atmosphere to serve one last labor for their sentences. Depending on their crime and their sentence, they would be freed after they help rebuild the town.

Finner helping the Manor was done with love and favor for his sister-in-law and his niece and nephew.   

With his crime being striking a noble ( who was well deserving, as all in attendance would agree) and all but one other man in his family being killed in the attack, Finner McGalfrey was allowed to return home to restore the farm. Wesshire needed her crops, her meat, and the profit the make from selling to passing vessels.

He is the McGalfrey Farm now.

The man tends to the animals- most of the riding beasts had been taken or killed so he sold the rest off save the Rex Haemish reared for Deji. Even then, the two of them are playing with the idea of selling her too. The roan have done well, were well protected in their isolation from the town. Thankfully Haemish had put Deji’s calves with their herd, so they too survived the attack.

The man tends to the fields of grains, vegetables, and even the family garden the twin girls kept. Awbry had no interest in it anymore, not without her sister to help and their father to watch over them.

The man even kept on his duties around the house. Emma, his mother, took on all of her grand children save for Haemish’s children- the Manor takes far better care of them than she can with five children on her own already. So Finner mops the floors, cleans the kitchen, the dishes, the dining room, all the clothes, all the food…everything.

He is the McGalfrey Farm.

Finner comes in from the rain, shaking off his thick coat  as his breath still clouds the air  before he closes the door. The heat from the kitchen fire surprises him and it billows around his wet, cold form until warm hands pull at his sleeves and the collar.

He turns to see the warm, round face of Maresith Vollux as she drapes his now shucked coat over her strong arm. Her skin is darker, darker than anyone he knew. She is flecked with even darker freckles, mapping paths over her skin. He often found himself wandering those trails. As sweet as he saw her skin and her dark brown hair, her grey eyes were always the most intriguing thing about this Lowborn creature. There is fire there, enough that warmed away any sadness he felt in the moment.

And she smiles at him; that grin that infuriates and makes all resolve melt in the same moment.

At his sigh, the woman rolls her eyes and gestures to the stuffed chair in the corner of the crowded kitchen. “Go sit, git yerself warm up, alrigh’?” She takes his coat to heavy hooks by the door to hand and dry. “Dinner’s started already.”

“Damnit woman.” Is all the iced giant could growl, moving chapped fingers over his shirt to try and find warmth.

For as much work he faces every day, Maresith is the saving grace he never thought he deserved. After Deji was ready in the morning, her maid would excuse herself to come to the farm and help in any way she can. It started with helping his mother with the children, then making dinner now and then, now she has taken so many duties that Finner worries for her own sanity.

But tonight, when his bones rattle from ache and cold, he is grateful for her. Even if her smile is infuriating.

Maresith leaves his jacket on the wall, moving to stir the thick broth she started to make zuccini soup; probably the one meal all the children would eat. From the manor, she brought  fresh bread and some sweet juices to share. She knew Finner had yet to go into town for groceries, so she only took what Reyna was willing to part with. Which is always plenty.

She turns her eyes from the aged pot to look Finn up and down. He is clearly soaked, she will have to see to him getting a hot bath after he eats. His hands are cupped and red from the chill. But how he rubs his shoulders, she can see how stiff they must have gotten from hours of brushing and tending to the beasts.

“Here.” She starts, moving over to one of the stools at the island. She pulls it out and pat the seat of it. When he gives her a look she sighs and pats the seat again. “C’mon! Gitya here!”

He obeys, if anything so that she would stop glaring at him and not tattle to his mother about not taking her help.  The last time she did, Emma tugged on his ear and gave him a head full of “LISSEN HERE MCGALFREY BOY…” speeches. Emma had enough to handle as it is.

“Back t’ me, face the counter.” She orders and he straddles the stool with another stiff grunt. Maresith asks no permission as she pulls his shirts out from the back of his jeans.

Finner moves onto a foot, growling an “OI!” as he twists to look at her.

“Oh sit yae down an’ quit fussin’!” She tugs him, forcefully, back down onto the chair.  “Y’ve been usin’ yer back too much lately, m’jus’ gonna break some o’ this stiff innit.” She continues to push his shirt up, making Finner shiver as she reveals the thick ridges of muscle over his form. But for the strength and girth he bore, she could see his ribs through his sides. This man is slowly turning from muscle to sinew; from bull to starved meat.

The only sign she gives she notices it is a huff, a sigh, then she begins to work her fingers into the McGalfrey man’s back. Up his spine, then down over his sides to the corded muscles that connect his hips to his rubs. She moves around the front minimally before working back up the prominent line up.

“Y’need someone t’ help yae out there.” She offers, letting golden light ebb around her fingertips. The glow feeds into his body, starting to knit the wrongs overworking himself so much has done.

The only movement Finner gives is folding his arms on the counter to rest his face on them. “Canna afford it.”

“I don’ mean someone y’can pay.” Her voice is quieter, looking towards his head as if he might look back at her and realize she meant herself. He does not, so she continues to massage him.

“Awbry’s tae little.”

“McGalfrey-”

“Nae.” He sighs and it is only the weariness in his tone that makes Maresith stop arguing. For now at least.

After a few minutes, her fingers slow to a stop as she realizes his breathing has deepened; tension is gone. For worry, she leans around his thick shoulder to look for his face. What she finds is a man lulled to sleep, relaxed under her touch and her care. A man that clearly needed the rest.