Chapter Text
Tick, tick, tick.
Andrias smiled a little at the familiar sound before wincing a bit. The light shining through his window was too bright for this early in the morning which meant… Meant that he had slept in. The young man groaned a bit at the realization before forcing himself to relax. He had no urgent commissions to take care of after all so it was okay if he got a bit of extra sleep. He so often didn’t sleep after all that it was only fair that he got a bit extra now.
Still, he couldn’t spend the whole day in bed. The large man slid his legs off the side of the bed before standing up and stretching out his back. Its protests let the almost seven foot giant know that he had been neglecting his stretches and that he would need to spend a bit of a time fixing that. Twas just a part of being built extra big unfortunately as he couldn’t blame age. Or, he thought with a smirk, he hoped that wasn’t the reason when he was only in his mid-thirties.
Once he was done getting unwound and dressed, he paused to pat the small clock that rested above his bed. For being in a clockmaker’s shop, let alone one of such renown as Andrias, it was a disgrace. The wood was low quality, the nails poorly placed and a trained ear could tell that its rhythm was off. In fact, it said that it was close to midnight with how far behind the curve it had fallen over the years. It was his first clock though and he considered himself the sentimental sort. Hence why he made sure to keep it.
Or, the third.
Andrias shut his eyes for a moment as the storm clouds around his heart closed in on his mind before moving past them. It was the first clock he’d made for himself after all. That made it important enough. He was important enough…
Andrias grumbled a bit to himself as he forced himself out of his bedroom. It was likely to be a lazy day for him so he wore a light, loose, white tunic over his large, stocky frame. His pants were brown and of a treated leather that was joyfully soft. They had been expensive but were well worth it so that he could relax properly. Besides, he had to have most of his clothes custom made anyway because of how large he was so he might as well splurge on anything new he got.
“You know, you could save a lot of money if you let me make your clothes for you.”
“And risk them falling off of me like Barrel’s do?”
“Hey! That was one time!”
Andrias shut his eyes before running a hand through his thick, brown hair. He should get it cut sometime soon before it started risking getting into his work. That or he would need to tie it back. A large, pale white hand that resembled a paw more than a human appendage stroked his short beard before twisting it and threatening to pull out a few hairs. He shouldn’t let himself get agitated so easily but the deafening silence of his empty house let his thoughts speak all too loudly.
The silence was in and of itself a comfort though. After all, clocks of all varieties adorned the walls and floors of the house. Grand, grandfather clocks, majestic houses that released a whole family of birds at the top of the hour and so many more greeted Andrias’ proud gaze. And from all of them: Nothing. Not a peep as the seconds ticked by.
It was what had made Andrias renowned. What had made him unique amongst other clockmakers who struggled to copy his designs even when they had his work directly in front of them. The angles required of the insides of the clocks to manage it though, to bounce the clicking and tickings of the inner mechanisms back inwards so you had to press your ear to the wood or the wall it rested against was a feat only he could claim, let alone while keeping the clocks reasonable in size. How many nights had he spent perfecting the angles? How long had it taken him?
“I don’t know, Andy. I find the clicking of your clocks soothing personally.”
Andrias paused before resting his head against the side of one of the clocks and listening to its quiet workings. Many had marveled that the clocks reflected the man himself. He looked large and clumsy after all. Like he shouldn’t be able to handle a fork, let alone gears that were the size of pinheads. They always remarked that he should have been a guard, a warrior or a ruler, not a simple craftsman.
Bringing beautiful things into the world was a joy that he could never tire of though. Not when it brought so much more joy than commandments or blades could.
Knock, knock, knock. “Andrias? Mail for you!”
Oh, good. Andrias patted his shirt before heading to the door. He couldn’t help but pause as he glanced at the clock on the wall next to the doorframe. The body of it was that of a bundle of leaves, beautifully made so as to look like a bouquet, while the lever underneath resembled a hammer. He knew he should move it but it was also one of his proudest works. One of the first that was silent and one of three in a set.
Really, it just made him know it was his fault that he couldn’t get the voices of those he used to live out of his head. Just like them being gone wasn’t his fault. Maybe that’s why he kept it there? As a reminder? He wasn’t really sure but he also couldn’t dwell on it. As such, he made sure not to let the clouds in his heart to show as he made sure to put on a wide smile as he opened the door. “Bee! How are you today?”
The young man before him gave him a tired smile. He wore the normal yellow smock of the local post service with worn, blue britches underneath that were almost covered by the long top. That let his hairy, brown legs bask in the sunlight. Many in the town would scowl admittedly at the odd color, and even Andrias had been surprised when him and his wife moved into town, but he quickly discarded the thoughts. Lief would have killed him had he judged the kind couple by their looks or their odd accents or how they sometimes struggled with English.
The shorter, thai man extended a small parcel of envelopes for Andrias as he obviously failed to stop a yawn. Once he shut his mouth, he scratched some of his scraggly, curly brown hair before groaning a little. “Tired, but that’s not anything you need to be concerned about. Not when you have exciting news waiting in there for you.”
Andrias glanced at the parcel for a second but hardly paid it much mind. He had time to find out what awaited him after all. Instead, he glanced back at Bee and frowned a bit. His brown eyes, usually full of life, were a bit duller than normal. It didn’t look like anything was haunting him but instead that the bags under his eyes were dragging his whole posture down. It left the poor fool looking like he’d gone ten rounds at the bar and failed to get the fun parts of being drunk. “Oh? As exciting as whatever your wife has been doing to keep you up?”
The man’s cheeks flared with heat as Andrias laughed before he joined the craftsman in the joke. He then groaned as obviously his exhaustion caught up to him. “Honestly? I wish. Instead, my little girl hasn’t slept in three days and none of our normal remedies have been helping.”
Andrias paused for a moment before clapping the young man on the back. “Why didn’t you ever tell me Oum was pregnant!? I would have made something special for you all.”
Bee spent a second catching his breath before giving Andrias a meek smile. “Well, you know, we’ve been busy and we didn’t want to impose on you. We aren’t nearly close enough to deserve such a gift like that from you after all.”
“Nonsense!” Andrias pulled the man into his house before slipping his hand away and heading towards the kitchen. “Let me get you some water so you can sit while I pick something proper out for you and…”
Bee and Andrias stared at each other for a few moments before Bee tilted his head to the side. That just made Andrias laugh. This is part of what he enjoyed so much about the Boonchuys. They were humble, they were kind and they good. Almost to a fault. If he wanted to take advantage of them, like many did in the village, he could. It helped him feel even better when he could help them. Though Bee was right. He didn’t order from their tavern nearly enough. He would need to fix that. “I’m waiting for the child’s name. It’s important in helping me figure out what will be right for her.”
“Oh! Right.” Bee rubbed the back of his neck before smiling as he obviously finally managed to relax. “Um, it’s Anne. Anne Savisa Boonchuy.”
Andrias rubbed his chin for a second before quickly going out to the backyard where his water pump was. Once he was back with some fresh water for the courier, he asked, “That’s pretty Victorian, isn’t it? I mean, not that I judge. It’s a great name. I was just expecting something more exotic from you and Oum.”
Bee drummed his fingers on the side of the glass before taking a small sip. He then drank more greedily as the icy water washed down his throat. Andrias was lucky to have a pump that fed into an especially good underground spring and the craftsman noted to himself to make sure to stopper a bottle for the man before he left so the heat of the day didn’t kill him.
Only once Bee was almost done with the glass did he take it away from his lips. He licked them slightly before sighing. “Maybe five years ago when we first got here but, um, we’ve had… problems. Especially from Oum’s name. We’re hoping this might help Anne a bit when she’s older.”
“Oh.” Andrias swallowed hard before biting his cheek. He wished he had any real advice to give for that. Had they really been treated that poorly? He supposed he wouldn’t know. He didn’t keep himself very active in the community after all. His work kept him too busy most of the time. Even when he did have time, like he did today, he never decided to spend it going into town. He preferred keeping to himself nowadays.
Which made what he did now all the more important. Andrias clapped his knees with his hands before pushing himself up and quickly making his way towards the back of his house. He did make a quick stop to slip a brick in the kitchen out of place to grab the keys he hid there. He couldn’t just keep them in the open though. Not when they were all that kept thieves between them and his masterpieces.
He then went into his garage where a large wall kept most of it hidden. While his workshop was upstairs, near his bedroom, the somewhat small house couldn’t hold his excess work in any one room. Hence why he had the garage made. Its thick, stone walls were impossible for the common thief to get into and even the wooden wall he stood before was three times thicker than any other in the house. The door on it was locked three different ways and needed four keys to undo them all but it was all worth it if it meant keeping his backstock safe.
A backstock he now greeted with a large smile. Clocks of all shapes and sizes, of all sorts of complexity, sat neatly categorized within the garage. Bedside clocks, grandfather clocks, cuckoo clocks, they were all here. Anything a customer who needed something now could ask for. And more than enough to show off something impressive to a customer who wasn’t awed by the works he kept in the main house.
He walked towards the back where his most extravagant clocks sat. Anne… Anne… It was the sort of name befitting a princess. One who would go somewhere magical. That helped him narrow his thoughts before he nodded to himself and carefully grabbed one clock. It was wider than he was and he grunted as he lifted it up, which meant he likely would need to deliver it himself now that he thought about it. Then again, that just meant that he would get to see Oum’s reaction himself and that thought excited him.
First there was Bee though. He made sure to lock up the garage before he slipped inside and made sure to be careful with each step he made. His clocks were commonly quite durable but one could never be too careful. Not when he knew what was likely to happen to the clock.
The look on Bee’s face was well worth it though. Not that Andrias wasn’t going to revel in it for a bit. Instead he gestured to the clock before saying, “As you can see, this clock itself is quite Victorian itself. Instead of a sleepy little town though, its three pillars are meant to mimic those of an enchanting castle. Its white exterior is finely detailed to appear like marble and the fine mahogany I used for its creation makes sure that its durability almost rivals that of the hearty stone. Meanwhile, its three clocks are meant to add whimsy as while the middle clock is accurate, the other two are more… enchanting.”
He extended a hand to the secondary and third clock faces. The first of the pair had arms that mimicked angel wings. Andrias had taken proper inspiration from the bible though and given the beautiful, heavenly figure the wings spread from six wings, each of which pointed to one of the even numbers on the clock face. The other side had a figure in the middle that resembled a fae trickster with cat whiskers, a tall hat and a patchwork suit. Instead of hands, fairies and gnomes and other fairy tail creatures were busy bickering around the numbers or simply taking them away. “They’re meant to bless the house with mischief and a holy blessing so that you may find luck to be on your side and your life to stay exciting.”
It was one of the most ambitious works Andrias had ever made and one fit for a king. In fact, a man claiming to have been one had led to its creation but when he tried to stiff Andrias and swindle him, the craftsman had shown that the large biceps on his arms weren’t just for show. After all, while he might not be a brawler, he kept himself in good shape and had size on his side. It seemed almost ironic to him to give it away but to a struggling couple and their daughter who they hoped to give a bright future to? It was perfect.
Including the fact that, Andrias mentioned as he stood up, “Even with merchants being against you, you should be able to get at least three hundred gold for it on the secondary market. In fact, make sure not to let them pay you a coin less, not when they’ll surely try to sell it for three times as much.”
Bee’s eyes widened before he shook his head furiously. “No! I couldn’t imagine taking something so great, let alone selling such a gift! Surely you want something for it or you’re joking.”
Andrias shook his head. “The only man I would consider selling this to in this moment would be the king himself. I only ask that in return you make sure to raise your daughter right, even though I have every confidence in you that you will.”
Bee’s eyes shone as he looked at the clock and reached out for it. Then, like almost no one else Andrias would expect in the village, he stooped and looked away. “Actually, Mr. Andrias, you really ought to look at your mail first.”
That got the craftsman to pause before he picked up the parcel from where he had left it and put on a pair of spectacles to help him read. Too many hours squinting had already hurt his vision, something he wished he’d avoided better. Most of the pieces were nothing out of the ordinary. They were from addresses he vaguely recognized which meant they likely were from customers he’d already served. They were likely asking for replacement parts, new clocks or just extending their thanks to him. The letters were still nice of course but they weren’t exciting.
The last two caught his attention though. A rich, purple envelope that was made of much better stationary than the rest laid on top of the last letter. Even before he saw the crown on the front, he knew who it had to be from. The king himself. Or, at least, a high ranking official from the castle. It was the sort of letter that any craftsman would kill for. The sort that a quick response to would be imperative for helping keep your foot in the door.
Bee was right to stop him.
The last letter made it a moot point though. Andrias accidentally revealed the green envelope by rubbing his thumb over the royal seal and felt his heart sink. In the corner, where one would put a stamp or signature, was a leaf and hammer. Just like the ones that made up the clock that sat beside his front door.
Andrias took in a deep breath before putting the letters down. He then smiled at Bee as he said, “Come now. The King deserves better than something made for someone else. The clock is still yours, if you’ll take it. I’ll even deliver it myself first thing when I get up tomorrow.”
Bee swallowed hard before looking between the clock and the direction of his house. Of his wife and child who were waiting for him. “Are… Are you sure?”
It took all Andrias had to not sound tired as he sat on the back of the couch in his living room and said firmly, “Absolutely.”
Bee beamed at the man at that and furiously shook his hand as he repeatedly thanked the craftsman for the gift. He then took off for the rest of his route. Andrias considered stopping him for a second so he could get the man courier some water but couldn’t muster the energy for it. Not when it would mean putting off his old beloveds’ letter any longer.
Not that it was easy to open. The storm over his heart was only growing wilder and more powerful as he stared at the letter. It looked so unassuming and yet was suffocating. It threatened to crush him from how it felt. His strong hands felt numb and weak against the parchment. His eyes blurred as he fought back tears.
He didn’t even know what he expected. That they had broken up? He didn’t want that. He wanted one of them to be dead even less. They deserved to grow old together after all. It was his failure to be able to be with them after all. He was the one who couldn’t make them all work. But then what did he expect? Good news? Seeing them happy would be great but also soul crushing. To know they were doing well without him when a part of him still wanted to be there. To be necessary to them.
“We’ll always wait for your letter, big guy.”
Andrias shut his eyes and let a pair of tears fall down his face before Lief’s words help him open it. He didn’t bother with a blade so it wasn’t clean or the like. His trembling fingers didn’t help either as they tried to convince him to simply tear it in two. To discard it without reading it. He wasn’t ever going to mail them a letter after all so why torture himself? Why put himself through this?
And yet he couldn’t, as much as he wished he had when he saw the photo on the front. It was them. His short, spunky little Lief and the squat, strong Barrel that she had married. They looked happy. Radiant even. They were also as beautiful as the day they had left him. Then again, they would always look evergreen to him.
He couldn’t focus on their appearances though. He instead could only stare at the crib that sat between them. A child. They had a child. Of course they had. Lief might be a wild girl but she had spent more than one quiet night with them talking about how she did want to settle down someday. That she hoped her greatest journey, when she was ready to put down roots, would be motherhood.
“Don’t worry! I’ll make sure to come back from patrols with monster guts just for you so you can feel like you’re still out there.”
“I sure hope not! What fairy tales will I tell my kids then?”
“Oh, I guess you’re… Is something wrong, Andy?”
Andrias took in a shuddering breath before putting a hand over his eyes as he began to bawl. There was nothing composed or quiet about his crying now. They were the desperate tears of a man who never could fix the mistakes of his past. Not when he could never get past his jealousy and insecurities. And what had he gained in return? A bunch of clocks?
They all seemed so insignificant to him now. What did keeping track of time mean if your present meant nothing? If all you added was just a bunch of stupid boxes? Even the Boonchuys now outshone him in adding beauty to the world. He would have a child if he could of course. He had wanted a family with Barrel and Lief after all. Had wanted to join their dream.
But he had nothing now. Just a bunch of clocks. He had never found someone else to fall in love with and he doubted he ever would. He couldn’t do this alone though. What was he supposed to do? Build a daughter? Children weren’t just wind up toys after all. You couldn’t just build all the pieces, put them together, give them a heart and… and…
Andrias stared at the photo before looking outside. He had been crying for so long that the sun was now setting. It felt like it had been even longer to the man’s tortured heart. It was all too exhausting. His mind was a muddled mess from it all.
Perhaps… Perhaps some sleep was what he needed. Yes. In the morning he could think about this clearly and get past it. He couldn’t just make a daughter after all. Such a thing was a fool’s dream.
And indeed, that night the fool dreamed and his resolve was set.