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Mozu supposed it would be too much to ask for the rolling fields of the miraculous outrealms to be free of debris, but the heavy stones that poked their heads from the ground like so many moles still frustrated her, as she was forced to give her plowing pause to dig up obstruction after obstruction. It wasn't work she was unused to, but when she had prepared fields before, she had always been surrounded by friends and family, chewing the fat and singing to themselves as they worked. Now her only company was the silent stones rooted stubbornly deep in the soil.
"Hey, it's Mozu, right? Need some help, there?"
She'd heard that voice before, and it tickled in her mind as she tried to pin it to a face before straightening up to see the speaker. Long blonde waves and white frills gave Mozu pause; she'd seen this woman around the castle, had been there when she'd been introduced (and not thought much of her simpering and cooing), but she'd never actually spoken to the fighter before her.
"Ah . . . Charlotte? Nah, I've got this. Just gotta get a few more of these stones cleared and I can get to plowin'."
Charlotte placed her hands on her hips, and Mozu's eyes followed, gaze lingering on those hands; dainty, long-fingered things, pale as milk and without a spot to suggest the sun had touched them in her life--Almost as if her hands themselves were silk gloves, smooth and soft and totally unsuited to grip an axe, much less dig about in the dirt.
Charlotte frowned as she overlooked the fields, then turned that frown on Mozu with a twist of her brow.
"There's so many of them, though. Look, your garden supplies the army with food, doesn't it? It's only right that someone help you out."
Mozu worried her lip between her teeth, the chapped skin catching and stinging. Charlotte wasn't wrong, but having someone who didn't know what they were doing trying to "help" would make the task much more troublesome than doing it by herself.
Charlotte didn't wait for her approval though, finding a particularly heavy looking rock and squatting down to grab it. Mozu groaned; this was exactly what she'd been worried about.
"No, you have to dig it out! You're gonna throw out yer-"
"HAUGH!"
The stone went sailing, coming down with a WHUMPF! at least ten feet away.
Charlotte dusted her silky, dainty, incredibly powerful hands off on her bare thighs, and turned to Mozu with an expectant grin.
"I, uh." Mozu cleared her throat behind her fist, "Think you could haul a few more of 'em?"
Charlotte rolled her shoulders a few times--Left, right, double, as Mozu kept her eyes resolutely on the spot where her fringe touched her brow, before lacing her fingers together and giving her knuckles a loud crack.
"Yeah, I think I can handle that."
The two settled into work, Charlotte abandoning her showy stone throwing to grab a trowel and carve the rocks from the ground alongside Mozu, not seeming to care about the way her knees dug into the dirt and stained green with grass. Charlotte kept most of the conversation going, plying Mozu for such things as what she was growing, how it could be prepared, did she have any questions about Nohrian crops. Mozu kept her side up as best she could, with Charlotte's easy smile and friendly voice flying in the face of what Mozu thought she'd known about her.
"Um, Charlotte," she tried, "don't mean to be rude, but you're better at this then I thought you'd be."
Charlotte flipped a hank of wavy blonde hair back with a shrug her shoulder--her tresses apparently the only thing too sacred for dirt--and paused her digging, mulling the statement over with a jut of her lip.
"Well, my parents aren't farmers, so I'm not really used to this, exactly, but I worked back home."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I didn't exactly have a real job--work was pretty scarce in my home town--but I'd help my parents, and do odd jobs for some extra coin. "
"Pardon me for sayin' but you don't exactly look like-"
"You ladies all right over there?"
Mozu swiped some sweat from her forehead with a fist, only realizing after that she had smeared mud across it, and turned to look in the direction of the voice. A soldier, Nohrian, walked over to them. Mozu turned his face over and over in her head, but couldn't decide if she had ever seen him before.
That seemed not to be a concern for Charlotte, who quickly rose to her feet, planting her muddy hands on her grass-stained knees, squeezing her arms inward and leaning forward so the ample chest Mozu had politely avoided looking directly at was emphasized.
"Oh, thank you so much for your concern, sir," she mewled, "Mozu's fields here just reminded me ever so much of the flower garden I keep back home, and I thought I might be of some help, but I'm afraid I just don't have the constitution for such rough work quite yet! Tee hee!"
In her shock at the sudden personality flip, the fact that Charlotte would have had to work hard indeed to get flowers to bloom in Nohrian soil almost slipped Mozu's mind. However, the soldier didn't seem particularly bothered by that little detail, if his lopsided smile and face, as flushed as a drunkard's, were anything to go by.
"I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am," he said, with no effort to look at Charlotte's face (or to look at Mozu at all, for that matter), "Do you need an escort to the healer's tent?"
"Oh, no," Charlotte said, with an exaggerated shake of her head, making her long silky locks bounce and sway appealingly,"it's not that bad. I wouldn't want to leave dear Mozu to do all of this work by herself, after all."
Alright, Mozu had had about enough.
"Actually," Mozu said, drawing the soldier's gaze for the first time since he had strolled over, "I think I got it from here, Charlotte. Why don't you head back and rest."
Charlotte's face fell. "Huh? But-"
"Go on," Mozu made a shooing motion with both hands. "Wouldn't want ya to strain yerself workin' too hard."
Charlotte looked between Mozu and the soldier once, twice. Her gaze stayed on Mozu for just a few seconds longer, doll eyes searching and dainty lips frowning, before she turned back to the soldier.
"I . . . Fine. Oh, sir! I'll take that escort after all!"
Mozu shook her head as she went back to carving out a particularly stubborn rock. Good riddance.
If she wound up spraining her wrist hefting a rock Charlotte would have had no problem with, well, the healer's tent wasn't that far a walk, anyway.
Sweat stung at Mozu's eyes and plastered her hair to her cheeks and forehead. So, maybe it was too much to ask that the fields in the outrealms to be clear, but would it have been so bad for them to have a consistent, cool temperature? Between the heat sapping her strength and the soil she still had left to turn, it would be nightfall before this soil was ready for planting.
"Oh, Mozuuuu!"
Mozu's grip on the plow tightened at the sound of that bright, twinkling voice. The blisters on her palm stung, but she kept going.
"Are you plowing?" Charlotte asked as she finally caught up, smile brighter and more genial than it had any right to be, "Do you need an extra set of hands?"
"Naw, I can handle this myself, thanks." Go away, Mozu thought. Charlotte pouted in response.
"But there's so much left to do," she gestured at the expanse of unturned earth, marked off for the fields, "You'll be at it until nightfall!"
"I'd rather work 'til mornin' than have to pick up your half whenever a man walks by," Mozu snapped. Charlotte flinched, the beginnings of a scowl twitching at the corners of her lips, then put on that irritatingly innocent face, raising a dainty-looking hand to her lips as she fluttered her thick blonde lashes over her big blue eyes exactly three times.
"W-what? I don't know what you're talking about."
"I've got eyes, Charlotte," Mozu said, finally dropping her grip on the plow and turning to face her. "If you wanna make a fool of yerself for the menfolk, you can go right ahead, but do it on your own time. Don't go wastin' mine."
The porcelain mask dropped, and a particularly unpretty scowl twisted Charlotte's delicate features. She crossed her arms tightly. "Hmpf! Here I am, trying to be nice, and you-"
"I think there's some soldiers over there who'd appreciate your 'nice' a bit more than me," said Mozu, turning back to her plow and gesturing over her shoulder with a thumb, "Why don'tcha go 'help' them."
Silence, then the sound of a boot thumping on the ground. Mozu did't turn or pause in her work.
"Fine! Throw your back out plowing by yourself, see if I care!"
Retreating, ever quieter footsteps, then silence again.
"Hmpf. 'Small town girls gotta stick together,' my foot." Mozu mumbled, adjusting the grip of her sore hands on the plow.
"Where do you want these radishes planted?"
Mozu nearly brained herself in the head with her trowel, stumbling to get off of her knees and turn to the intruding voice.
"AH! Charlotte don't sneak up on me like that! And- what? Where'd you get that trowel?"
One arm was laden with seeds, one hand carried a rusty trowel, and Charlotte's long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which was rather fetching, actually--but Mozu shook that thought away.
"Borrowed it from the supply shed. Where should I plant these?"
"Now, hold on!" Mozu said, planting her feet shoulder-width apart, her hands on her hips, "I done told you I didn't need your help! Ain't you afraid one of yer beau's will spot you with dirt under your nails?"
Charlotte bristled, but she didn't sway. "I'm not taking no for an answer, Mozu."
Mozu stared Charlotte down so long, she half expected her to break out her fluttery cow eyes to try to persuade her, but Charlotte's gaze remained firm and calm.
". . . This row here, please."
They worked a few hours, Charlotte only occasionally bothering Mozu with a gardening question, but otherwise working quietly and diligently as the sun chased the clouds above them. Mozu stole several glances Charlotte's way, and scanned the area for--she wasn't really sure, the kind of rich guy who really liked sunburned, grass-stained girls for some reason? But no, it was just her, Charlotte, and this thick silence.
Mozu wracked her brain for some small talk to make, but Charlotte beat her to the punch.
"My family is pretty poor, you know."
"Huh?" Mozu paused, sitting back on her heels to look at Charlotte, but Charlotte did not falter in her work.
"My father's a fisherman, my mother's a seamstress. They don't make much money, and raising me didn't help with expenses." Charlotte tamped down the earth over a few seeds, and sighed. "They're kind, hard working people, and they deserve to live comfortably."
"Why are you-"
"If I can marry into money," Charlotte continued, louder, not uhearing Mozu's interruption, but not giving her a moment to speak, either, "I can provide for them, but . . . Men don't like strong, tough girls."
Oh.
"So that's why . . ." Mozu mumbled, setting her trowel down and turning fully to Charlotte, who still refused to meet her eyes. "But Charlotte, I think your strength only makes you more admirable! With that kind of strength, you could. . ."
She gulped.
"You could protect your family from just about anything."
Charlotte finally paused, shoulders drooping. "Mozu, I'm . . ." She turned to face Mozu head on, "I'm really sorry I slacked off like that. I'd like to make it up to you. If you really think my strength is that . . ." She made a face, like the word tasted strange, "Admirable . . . I could help you with your training."
Mozu gasped. "Would you really? I'd love that, Charlotte! I-" She hesitated, "Oh, but I couldn't let you do that for free . . . How about we send some of this harvest back to your parents?"
Charlotte's eyes widened, lips parting, then her face settled into a smile quite unlike Mozu had ever seen on her before. Lopsided, eyes twinkling for real and little lines crinkling at their corners.
"Mozu . . . Thank you, I'd like that."
Mozu's heart fluttered.
"Oof! Those weeds are really in there. Did you bring your hand salve, Charlotte?"
"Of course, who do you think I am?" Charlotte scoffed, "Your hands will be baby soft by morning, Mozu."
Mozu chuckled. "You make it sound like a miracle potion. Thanks, Charlotte."
Charlotte shrugged. "It's the least I can do. Though we really should let Corrin know we need new gloves."
The seasonless sun beat down as hot that day as it had months ago, when Mozu had just begun to clear the field. It was a good thing the crops they'd grown were hardy--probably hardier than Mozu herself, if she was being honest. At least plants didn't sweat. She probably smelled worse than she did after a training session with Charlotte.
"My parents really liked the Cabbages you sent, Mozu," Charlotte said, leaning down to water a row of crops that Mozu had just finished weeding. "They've been asking how you're doing." She laughed, smiling her lopsided smile. "They keep saying how happy they are I've made such a good friend."
Mozu flushed. Combined with the sunshine, she might have given herself heat stroke. "Gosh," she said, "Tell 'em I'm doin' just fine. Speakin' of yer parents . . ." Mozu gripped the base of a particularly stubborn weed, digging in her heels and preparing to pull. "Any, um--Any news on the husband front?"
Charlotte didn't immediately respond, and Mozu's heart couldn't decide what it was losing its senses over: hope or agony.
"No," she finally said, "I haven't had much time for men, lately."
"Oh!" The weed came loose much easier than Mozu had thought, sending her stumbling backwards. Charlotte chuckled, and Mozu worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "I've been keepin' you so busy with gardening and trainin'--I'm sorry, Charlotte!"
"Don't worry about it," Charlotte shook her head, wavy blonde locks catching the wicked sunlight like it was only a gentle glow, "I'd rather spend time with you than some snooty noble. Besides, my parents really like you--I don't think they'd mind."
"I haven't even met your parents!"
A lock of golden hair had come loose from Charlotte's ponytail, and she pushed it back behind her ear with a muddied hand. The skin across her nose and cheeks was painted red, and Mozu wondered if she had forgotten her sun lotion that morning. Charlotte cleared her throat, and started watering another row of seedlings.
"Would you like to?" She didnt look up, didn't meet Mozu's eyes at all. "After all, you'll need to meet them if you're going to be their daughter-in-law."
Mozu leapt to her feet. Her heart almost jumped up ahead of her, but got caught in her throat on the way.
"Huh?! B-but Charlotte, I'm not a noble or anything--I couldn't provide for your family!"
Charlotte rubbed her left foot behind her right ankle, then finally met Mozu's eyes.
"I know, Mozu. It's not going to be a cushy life, but I'd rather be knee-deep in the dirt with you than dripping with jewels with someone else."
"Charlotte . . ."
Charlotte carefully placed her watering pail down, closing the distance between Mozu and herself, and taking Mozu's callused hand in her own silky one.
"You have a place with my family no matter what, Mozu--but I'd rather that place be by my side." She ducked her head a moment, face a perfect match for the tomatoes just starting to grow a few rows away. When she looked back up, she had the same fire in her eyes Mozu recognized from their training. "I love you, Mozu. Marry me?"
Mozu threw herself into Charlotte's arms before her mouth could catch up, and Charlotte used her momentum to spin her around, laughing. "YES! Of course! I love you, too, Charlotte!"
"Yes!" Charlotte cried, triumphantly, like she'd just planted her axe in an enemy skull. "My parents will be sooooo excited to meet you, Mozu- we need to make some plans to visit, and-"
Mozu silenced her with a kiss, planting both grubby hands on Charlotte's cheeks.
"Before that," she said, when she broke away, leaving Charlotte grinning in her wake, "it's time for my training! I've gotta get stronger if I'm gonna protect my new family!"