Work Text:
Stalks of wheat stood tall in the fields of Aedes Elysiae, bothered only by the gentle caressing of the early morning breeze. Their sweet, earthly aroma was carried along with the wind, spreading the familiar aroma the countryside throughout the village and beyond. As far as the eye could see, cultivated fields blanketed the lands, no patch of earth left to waste. It was an almost perfect sea of gold, with the exception of an indentation on a hill looking out towards the sea.
The gentle waltz of the wheat had disturbed a resting young lady with their prominent scent, who had long since dozed off after being taken to the hillside by a young man who had claimed the slope as his own. She groggily opened her eyes to see that he was resting beside her, fast asleep and snoring almost too loud for her own liking. She would’ve felt awful to disturb his slumber without any good reason, however, as that was the most peaceful she had ever seen him in rest or in waking.
She knew that the long list of chores that needed tending to on the farm weren’t going to fulfill themselves. The wheat was ready for harvesting, the animals were in need of feeding, the list seemed to extend on and on. Disturbing him was going to be an impossible task, as for once, he appeared so peaceful. Unwilling to throw aside the blanket of sunlight draped over them both, she thought to herself, that perhaps, five more minutes would do no harm. Rather than fall back asleep, however, she had passed the time by staring at the peacefully sleeping country boy, wheat blowing into her nose on occasions as she attempted to fight back a sneeze.
After some time had passed, ten minutes, two hours, she really wasn’t keeping track, he too, finally began to stir. He hardly budged from where he was laying as he looked at her with half-open, beautiful blue eyes. Softly they blinked at each other, sharing not even an utterance of “good morning.”
The wind once more blew stray stalks of wheat into her eyes. She attempted to rub her eyes clean, body weighed down from rest, until she dropped her hands back onto the ground.
“You’re finally awake,” he said, gently brushing some of the stray wheat away from her eyes with the back of his hand.
“Finally? Phainon, you’ve been asleep for way longer than I have.”
“Oh, I absolutely believe you, Stelle. It wasn’t as if I literally watched you fall asleep right beside me.”
She nudged herself upwards to shoot Phainon a cock-eyed glare, but behind her head, she could feel Phainon’s other hand laid out behind it. That was a dead giveaway for her to expect at least some tangles to be present in her hair thanks to him. There was no logical reason for Phainon to be sprawled out in such a manner, except to jump at the opportunity to mess with her hair while she was asleep. Disregarding such a case for the time being, Stelle lifted her body up to sit up, stalks of wheat clinging on for dear life as her hair slowly peeled away.
The sun was beating down on her with such strength, and its intensity only grew by each passing moment. She had hoped that it was still too early in the hours of rest for any sort of work, as her physical body was still dragging behind, but Phainon’s enthusiasm to spring to his feet upon seeing Stelle rise hinted to otherwise.
“The crops aren’t going to harvest themselves, partner,” Phainon said, offering out his hand to Stelle. “Come on. Let’s move before the sun unleashes its fury upon us.”
Stelle grabbed her straw hat before reaching up to grab his hand. He pulled her up and forward with such great strength, almost causing her to trip on her sundress and stumble down the hill. When her legs failed her, Phainon caught Stelle in his arm before she could tumble forward.
“Watch yourself, darling,” Phainon said with a smile.
Looking up at him, Stelle was too taken aback to say anything in response. His eyes, she noticed, were identical to the color of the sky in Aedes Elysiae: a beautiful blue with a touch of the golden horizon. It was rude to stare, but Stelle couldn’t help but find herself lost in his gentle, playful gaze. Before she further lost track of her thoughts, she steadied her footing and brushed off the wheat that had stuck to her clothes.
“Now then,” Phainon said, acting as if the past few moments had never happened, “the morning won’t last forever! We’d better get a move on things before it gets too hot.”
“…Agreed,” Stelle said, glad to have moved on from the prior topic.
The two of them trudged up the hill and back onto the main pathway of the village, where he led her to the worn down shed of his house that stored all of his family’s farming equipment. Phainon undid the latch and flung the doors open, shifting aside various farm tools until he pulled out a massive sickle, befitting a reaper of death. Swinging it over his shoulders, he further excavated until he found another one more suitable to Stelle’s size, though still considerably large.
“Here,” he said, holding the smaller sickle out. “If you don’t mind, your help would be much appreciated.”
Stelle nodded her head in understanding and accepted it, swinging it over her shoulders in a way reminiscent of Phainon’s mannerisms. He gestured for her to follow him as he led her to the edge of a field of wheat along the pathway. Upon gazing out at the seemingly never-ending field of wheat, it became apparent as to why Phainon would request her help with such a task.
“Where do you want me to even start?” Stelle asked, looking all around her to see nothing but a waving sea of wheat, wheat, and more wheat.
“Anywhere,” Phainon said. “Preferably somewhere in the direction opposite of me. I’m not exactly looking forward to having any of my limbs cut off.”
“You got it,” Stelle said.
Phainon nodded his head, then turned his back to Stelle and started swiping away at the wheat. He did it with such skill and efficiency that Stelle felt as if her efforts were futile compared to his. But no matter how much or low little she had done in comparison to him, every time, without fail, Phainon and his parents would thank her profusely for willingly offering a helping hand. With words of thanks as sincere as that, Stelle had no reason to waste precious minutes worrying about how much she was doing compared to him and continued swinging away at the wheat.
That single field alone truly felt endless. And the increasing intensity of the sun’s rays wasn’t making her work any easier, too. Stelle debated taking a short break, even if it was just a quick five-minute breather, but every time the idea came to mind, she would hear Phainon tirelessly hacking away and thus abandon the idea in favor of assisting him.
Curious to see how he was fairing, Stelle paused her work to turn to her side and steal a look, as Phainon’s general harvest path was relatively close to hers. The sweat rolling down his face glistened in the sunlight, dripping off of even the tips of his hair. Despite being drenched, he continued to power through, not allowing that to cause him even the slightest inconvenience. It was work he had long since been accustomed to doing, and apparently even enjoyed given the smile on his face, but nevertheless, Stelle still wished that she was capable of doing more. Standing at his level was seemingly impossible feat, given how the sun had already started to take a toll on her.
Phainon, wiping his brow and flinging drops of sweat away, suddenly stopped in his tracks. He tossed his sickle onto the ground then pulled his shirt off.
A bit of an unexpected, though quite reasonable move, as Stelle wasn’t prepared to see Phainon’s entire bare top half glistening in the sunlight. And she especially wasn’t prepared to see just how roughed-up this gorgeous man’s skin truly was.
It was to be expected for a farmer like him to have a couple scars painted across his body from years of rough work, but not quite to the extent of Phainon. Reaching from practically his neck to down beyond, his body bore the marks from unimaginable strife in his past. Subconsciously, Stelle knew the origin of Phainon’s various scars, but kept her curiosity on the low, assuming that it might be a most unpleasant topic of conversation for the time being.
She watched in awe as Phainon threw aside his shirt and once again picked up the sickle to continue harvesting where he had left off. Stelle observed his body as closely and subtly as he could manage, admiring the almost ethereal glow on his skin from the sweat glistening in the sunlight. From the back, two rather large scars on his upper shoulders had caught her attention, coupled with one most curiously shamed in a ring circling his upper right arm. Phainon had turned just enough for Stelle to catch a glimpse of the front of his torso, catching sight of what appeared to be remnants of his body being torn to shreds yet miraculously healing over.
Phainon stopped once he had noticed her staring out of the corner of his eye and asked, “Is something the matter, Stelle?”
Snapping out of her daydream, she replied, “Oh it’s n-nothing. I was just…a little curious as to how you got some of those scars, that’s all.”
The look in Phainon’s eyes suddenly turned solemn, but he swallowed his sorrow and said, “Well, if you’re curious, then ask away. I don’t mind telling you.”
“…What happened to your arm?” she asked, pointing to the heavily scarred ring around his upper arm.
“Ah… that. I had…an unfortunate run-in with some barbed wire and it tore me up pretty good.”
“Getting tangled up in barbed wire doesn’t sound like a very pleasant experience.”
“It wasn’t. Not in the slightest.”
“So, if that alone was from barbed wire, then where did all of those come from?” Stelle asked, pointing to the numerous apparent slashes and tears that adorned his torso.
“Just general farm mishaps. Angry livestock, accidents with tools, the occasional trip and fall… you name it, I’ve probably experienced it.”
“I never would’ve thought that livestock could cause such serious injuries.”
“Haha…even I wasn’t quite expecting it myself.”
“But what about those two big scars on your back?” Stelle asked. “It’s interesting how they run almost perfectly parallel to each other.”
“These…” Phainon said, reaching back to feel them as if he was unsure that they were there. “A bad fall. Like, a really bad one.”
“Are you sure that you weren’t an angel in your past life?”
“Who says I’m not one right now?” he said, his barely withheld frown turning into a smile.
It was hard to protest against his claims with the way his soft smile brought a sense of relief to her heart against the unrelenting force of the day’s labor. The sweat that glistened on his body only made him look more majestic as both a hard worker and perhaps an angel that has chosen to keep his wings folded in. And those, gentle, beautiful blue eyes looking at Stelle with such fondness only assured her that perhaps, he wasn’t entirely telling lies.
Stelle could only wonder, why did the Titans send down such a sweet angel to work in a rundown village like Aedes Elysiae?
Shaking her head and unable to formulate a response, she continued hacking away at the wheat, and Phainon resumed doing the same. Occasionally, out of the corner of her eyes, she would sneak a glance at him, hoping that he was too focused on harvesting the crops to take notice. The sight of him being hard at work was most admirable, and if it were not for her helping herself, she would’ve been more than happy to pass the time by simply watching him all day. And without a care in the world for whatever had happened on the farm to earn him such massive, prominent scars, he continued to effortlessly harvest bunches of wheat and carry back bunches arguably larger than Stelle herself.
How many hours that had passed, Stelle had long since lost track of. It seemed like longer than forever with the blazing sun scorching her body, yet simultaneously not enough time had passed as she used her brief moments of respite to admire Phainon. To her, he seemed too preoccupied to take note of her sneaking the occasional glance, but what she didn’t know was that Phainon himself was glancing out of the corner of his eyes at the beautiful lady working just as hard as he was. She looked most noble and dignified in her light golden sundress, counteracting the intimidating appearance of her muscular arms and legs.
Phainon never knew Stelle to be a pushover under any circumstance, regardless of if she was armed with a bat, a lance, or simply wielding a sickle against a field of wheat. Seeing the full exist of her raw physical power was a completely different and awe-inspiring experience, however. Wiping the sweat off of her forehead with a hefty sigh, Stelle continued pushing herself to keep up with Phainon’s progress. Though she was smaller in size relative to his massive frame, such a characteristic appeared to be no hindrance to her as she cut through the field with impressive speed.
He wasn’t about to let her show him up. Was this a competition? No, but he could certainly make it one. Having another driving force to help him power through the heat would certainly do him some good. After all, he had to show her that he was most worthy of her time. Granted, with how late in the day it had become, and how much work still remained elsewhere, the suggestion for a friendly showdown of sorts would have to wait for some other time.
The fields that still needed harvesting seemed to be endless, and eventually Phainon sat his sickle down on the ground despite this. Stelle was shocked by his sudden change in attitude, under the assumption that he intended to go on forever until his body burned to ash.
“What’s wrong, country boy? Giving up already?” Stelle teased.
“Giving up? Hardly,” Phainon argued, “but don’t you think that we have neglected the animals for far too long today? The wheat will be here tomorrow, but I doubt the patience of the horses will be retained.”
“Ah…right, right…” Stelle said, awkwardly scratching the back of her head. “I guess that is kind of important.”
Phainon swung the sickle up onto his shoulders, still carrying a hefty bushel of wheat in his other arm. The display appeared so effortless, but he was clearly exhausted, trying to stifle his heavy breathing. Phainon gestured for Stelle to trace their wake of destruction through the wheat for the final time that afternoon, leading back onto the main dirt roads of Aedes Elysiae. Their combined yield for the day was most impressive, at least by Stelle’s standards. Relative to the rest of the fields that still remained, however, it was a little less than nothing.
After tossing the last of his harvested wheat into the pile, Phainon went back through the field to grab his shirt that he had tossed onto the ground. On a cracked stump by the side of the road, he sat down at long last, shirt in hand. Rather than use the shirt for its intended purpose and pull it back on over his head, he used it as a rag to wipe the sweat off of his body, or at least what he could of it. Seemingly, he had no plans to dress himself anytime soon, which was understandable, but as for Stelle…
“Pass me my water bottle would you, dearest partner?” Phainon asked, still heavily breathing, yet smiling as if he was unbothered.
Stelle, nodding her head, grabbed his bottle and did him the small favor of unscrewing the cap for him.
“Thanks.”
She was expecting him to take a drink from it, like what was he should ideally be doing. However, that thought did not seem to cross his mind as he splashed nearly the entire thing on his face, drenching his hair like a soggy dog. With what he had remaining, he poured it all over his body, his skin glistening like the sea that stretched beyond Aedes Elysiae.
That was certainly one way to cool himself down. But did he really need to do that in front of Stelle?
“Phew. Much better,” Phainon said, standing up as water was still dripping from the tips of his hair.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to just hop into the sea to cool down?” Stelle suggested without thinking.
“As much fun as a dip in the sea sounds, there remains only so many hours before duskfall. Let’s go and maybe save ourselves from what we can of the horse’s foul attitude. We can plan for taking a swim in the sea together for a less labor-intensive afternoon,” Phainon said with a wink.
For the most part, they walked to the barn in relative silence. Stelle’s mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Phainon in all of his beautiful, hardworking glory to bother with making conversation. Far too many times within the duration of such a short walk, she had to peel her eyes away from the sight beside her. Phainon’s arms were so beautiful…so muscular…and one was practically up in her face. She almost felt as if she wasn’t worthy of being so close in proximity of a living god, but her mind was eased under the assumption that hardly a thought of Stelle crossed Phainon’s mind.
That, however, was a mere delusion. Phainon had simply learned well to cover up his true feelings.
Eventually Phainon broke the silence by saying, “You know, you didn’t have to strain yourself working in the field all day.”
“What do you mean, ‘didn’t have to’?” Stelle asked, baffled. “You against that field alone would be a never-ending battle.”
“Ah, I’ve done it before, and I can do it again. You could’ve hung out with the animals all day, and neither me nor my parents would’ve minded.”
“Not when there’s all of this wheat that still needed harvesting!” Stelle shouted, flailing open her arms in front of her to emphasize the sheer size of the wheat fields.
“Eh, it’s nothing to me. Really. But don’t take this as me being ungrateful for your help.”
Stelle flexed her arms proudly. “Well, what good are these if I don’t get to use them!”
“I suppose you make a fair point,” Phainon said with a laugh and a sun-kissed blush. “See, this is why my parents absolutely adore you. It’s almost like you’re their daughter to them nowadays.”
“Really, now?” Stelle asked, raising her eyebrow.
“Well, yeah. They’ve said that you have a fantastic work ethic and that you’re unbelievably kind with a great sense of humor- “
“Is it them saying these things, or is it you?”
“H-hey! I can agree with them too!” Phainon said, his face turning red from more than just the force of the sun.
“I’m just messing with you, Phainon,” Stelle said with a laugh.
His reaction alone told her everything that she needed to know, however.
Their banter was promptly interrupted by the sounds of the animals stirring within the pens and the barn. Chickens clucked and sheep bleated, as the sound of their approaching footsteps acted in place of a dinner bell for them.
“I’ll take care of the chickens and you can go wrangle the goats,” Phainon said.
“And as for that stallion that doesn’t like anybody…do you mind- “
“Tending to him again? So, you ultimately mean the usual?” Stelle asked, tipping her sunhat.
“Ah…yes, the usual. If you would call it that,” Phainon said, looking back at her as he made his way to the chicken coop.
Calling it “the usual” was certainly a way to put it. The routines that he used to follow from sunup to sundown every day on the farm, where his parents have long since lost most of their steam for, were tasks that he slowly stopped undertaking solo. From the start, Stelle was enthusiastic to join in and lend a hand, quickly working her way up from the more mundane tasks such as cleanup. Stelle adapted to country life so naturally that Phainon was rather impressed by her progress.
Or maybe, she had always been like that: an easygoing hard worker that Phainon had hit it off quite well with. Her usual habit of simply lending him a friendly helping hand had become so closely intertwined with both of their daily routines. It was no longer just a usage of Stelle’s free time. It was the norm for both her and Phainon.
Secretly, he wished that the norm could forever stay like so, Though the seasons shifted and that there won’t always be wheat that needed tending to, he longed to hang onto at least some feeling of bliss. Working hard with Stelle from dawn to dusk, relaxing at the end of the end of the day alone in his secret hideaway with her…
It was a feeling that stretched far beyond the craving for the normalcy of stable farm work.
Phainon had to focus. Should he let his nerves take the reins, then all that would come from it would be a multitude of broken eggs on the ground. He hadn’t broken an egg since he was a really, really small child, at least from what he could remember, and he was determined to maintain his years-long record. He gently nudged the broody hens aside as he grabbed a handfuls of eggs and held them in his arm, not even using a basket. He kept gathering and gathering them until he felt that one more would cause an overflow, and as he was cradling them gently, he kicked open the door.
Outside the coop, Stelle was grabbing handfuls of hay to take into the goat pen as sort of a treat to distract them for what few moments she could spare. Her sundress was adorned with little teeth marks and stains of chewed up grass and feed. Once again, she found herself the victim of hungry goats. And a victim of their affection, evident by her failure to hold her giggles in.
“Looks like you’re the most popular snack as always,” Phainon said.
“What can I say? I’m irresistible,” she said with a wink.
“…That you are.”
“Hm?”
“What? Did I say something?”
“No, I’m just wondering how you can hold all of those eggs like that. They look like they’re going to fall out of your arms at any moment.”
“Well, I haven’t broken one in a while! Not since I was a little one, anyways!” Phainon gloated.
In the midst of his bragging, an egg had rolled off of the top of the pile. His arms were too full to reach out and catch it, and so he could only look downwards in horror. Stelle, with reflexes rivaling Zagreus, threw the hay to one hand and sprang forward, catching the egg before it could smash on the ground.
“What was that about holding a flawless record?” Stelle asked.
“Hey. It didn’t break. So it still counts!”
“Only because of me.”
“And you’re right. What would I do without you there to keep me together?”
“Break a bunch of eggs and get kicked by a lot of horses, that’s for sure,” Stelle said, setting the egg back in his arms.
“Hey! It only would’ve been one egg just now!” Phainon protested. “And it’s only one horse that does that!”
“One less egg you would’ve had and one more horse to break your legs.”
“My legs have been fine…” Phainon said, looking down.
It was a claim she couldn’t prove, as his legs were still fully covered, unlike his top half. Not debating him further, Stelle nudged Phainon with the hay in her hand to stand himself up straight.
“Put those eggs away before you go dropping them everywhere.”
“Right. Sorry boss,” Phainon said, briefly unaware of what had slipped out of his mouth.
He did not notice until Stelle looked at him a little more fondness than usual, then he had all of the time in the world to rethink his words as she made her way back into the pen to tend to the goats. That smug little grin that was on her face was as if she was telling him, “so that’s how you think of me.” Well, Phainon wasn’t denying that he would let her boss him if she so desired but…never mind that for now. The last thing that he would want to do is fumble an egg when had already been given grace.
Gently, he placed the eggs into a large basket that was safely back on a table that he wouldn’t knock down. On his way back to the inside of the coop, he couldn’t help himself but steal a glance at Stelle, who was happily feeding the goats and laughing as they chewed at her sundress. It was truly a blissful sight that he wished that he could make all his forever.
All of these thoughts running through his mind were over some silly farm chores. Phainon, disappointed in himself, shook his head and returned to the coop to gather the remaining eggs. By the time he had finished, Stelle had long since left the goat pen and was digging through the tool shed in search of something.
“…What are you looking for?” Phainon asked.
“The crap to take care of the horse’s hooves,” Stelle said, looking up and down like a raccoon on the prowl.
“…You mean these?” Phainon said, taking a file and a pair of clippers off from a higher hook that they were hanging off of.
“Yes, those! Where did you hide them this time?”
“In the same place that they’re always at, dummy,” Phainon said with a laugh, patting her shoulder.
“Hey, you be nice now. Remember which one of us the horse likes.”
“It likes you.”
Though he most certainly specified “it,” and not “I,” Phainon’s heart still leaped out of his chest when he uttered the words “likes” and “you.” He was rethinking his words, wondering if he did accidentally slip after all and that his next and final destination was a comfortable hole six feet under. Though confusing “I” and “it” wasn’t entirely an impossible task, ultimately the comparison being made here was his most dear friend to a horse that admittedly got on his nerves.
Knowing her, she would be more amused by the comparison rather than be offended. She would probably laugh in his face, and call him one back, even.
“Exactly,” Stelle continued, snapping Phainon back to reality. “So keep that in mind.”
The horse in question was not to be feared based off of appearance alone; if anything, it appeared to be of most unremarkable size. It was its temperament that raised a multitude of problems. It had always been rather rowdy and uncooperative to everyone on the farm, even to Phainon himself, who had raised the horse since it was a foal. Strangely, and somewhat infuriatingly enough, it calmed right down for Stelle. Phainon had just come to accept that she was a natural with animals, between how well she handled the livestock and the stallion’s docile temperament towards her. It was a most useful skill, especially for those that would not allow Phainon a moment of peace in his life if given the opportunity.
On his own, Phainon was admittedly a bit afraid to approach it, out of fear of getting kicked or knocked to the side. His legs still bore the scars of sharp hooves penetrating his skin, and he cringed at the memory of being kicked in the most sensitive of spots. But for Stelle, the horse stood still as she lifted up the first of its hooves and began clipping off the overgrown keratin. He could only stand back and watch her in awe as Stelle filed and clipped away.
“I still don’t get it,” Phainon said. “Why does he like you so much, and not any of the people who have been raising him his whole life?”
“Maybe he knows something that you don’t,” she said, nonchalantly as she continued tending to its hoof.
“W-what is that supposed to mean?”
“You should know.”
“I sure wish I did. Otherwise, I’d have an answer as to why all of the animals seem to favor you.”
“I guess I’m just that well liked and charming around here,” Stelle said, jokingly.
“Someone’s confident,” Phainon said, “meanwhile I- “
Before he could finish his retribution, the horse attempted to kick backwards, at least to the best of its ability with one of its legs was held up high. It just barely missed Phainon, as he managed to stumble down onto the ground to dodge out of the way.
“Meanwhile you can hardly avoid a horse’s kick to save your life,” Stelle finished for him.
“Haha, yeah, I suppose so. Keep showing me up like that, and I’m not going to be of any use around here.”
“Don’t go saying that!” Stelle said, whipping her head around and causing the horse to startle in response. “Do you not remember the pile of wheat that you harvested today alone compared to mine?”
“Yours gets bigger every harvest. Soon, you’ll be passing me up.”
“And soon we’ll be harvesting the fields twice as fast.”
“…If you stay on the farm with me, that is.”
“Where else do I realistically have to go? I’d rather stay here on the farm with you than attempt to seek out an entirely new life.”
“…With me?” Phainon excitedly asked, his eyes lighting up.
“With you, yes.”
The impatient stallion neighed, as if to say, hey, I’m waiting on having my hooves tended to. A part of its overgrown hoof was hanging off half-clipped, as Stelle had gotten distracted in her chatter with Phainon.
“All right, I didn’t forget about you,” she said, patting it on the side of his hips while clipping the rest of the dangling hoof off.
And just like that, the stallion calmed down. Instantaneous magic. Truly a godsend to have such a miracle worker around the place. If she truly were so adamant about staying and helping around the farm for the rest of time, Phainon would’ve jumped at the opportunity to invite her to stay right then and there. But before the words could slip out of his mouth, he silenced himself. Asking the love of your life to be with you forever in a horse stable wasn’t the best way to go about things, even if it was a rather predictable move for someone like him.
“…I’ll leave you to him, so I don’t get kicked in the face,” Phainon said.
“Probably a good idea. I’ll be back out when I’m done.”
In truth, Phainon wanted some time by himself to collect his thoughts. Was she serious about her offer? Staying on the farm and helping him out forever? Chances were, she was probably more interested in the food and keeping a roof over her head. Nothing that had anything to do with her apparent gazes of fondness, or the naps they’ve taken together out in the fields, or anything like that.
She did seem to enjoy the farmwork, and Phainon found that the strenuous chores flew by much faster with her around. And it was as if the animals were telling him something, even the rowdy stallion, as they’re known to be the best judge of a human’s character without any inherit bias. Regardless of Phainon’s own feelings or the path that Stelle planned to follow in the future, it was hardly an appropriate time to make a move.
Phainon sighed and sat down on the ground, leaning back against the stable. Despite it being late in the afternoon, the sun was still beating down heavy on his bare skin, evaporating any remnants of water that may have still remained. Unsure of the direction that he should take his thoughts, he spaced out gazing upon at the gold-blue sky, until the shifting of the wooden door next to him caught his attention. Stelle emerged from the stable, free of any wounds and covered only by the dirt from holding the horse’s hooves.
“Already?” Phainon asked, looking up at her.
“It’s pretty easy when you’re not dodging kicks to the gut,” she said, spinning the clippers around her fingers.
“Rubbing it in my face I see,” he said as he stood up, grabbing his shirt and swinging it over his shoulder. “If we stay out for too long, we’re going to miss dinner.”
“Did you even tell your parents that you didn’t plan on returning until later?”
“Ah…about that. No, I did not. They’ve probably long since assumed, anyways.”
“Well, don’t blame me if you get yelled at!”
“I’m a grown man. They wouldn’t yell at me. They can’t yell at me.”
“But they’re still your parents,” Stelle said with a smile. “Go on, don’t keep them waiting.”
“Before I take off, uh, would you like to come home for dinner? It’s only fair as you did help me all day.”
“…I’m assuming that you didn’t let them know that I’m coming over? Again?”
“At this point they…kind of expect it. I can’t eat all of that food by myself anyways.”
“Oh, I bet you could though,” Stelle said, giving him a loving slap on his back.
“Aha, right. I probably could. But let’s not find out today.”
Stelle hung the tools back up in the shed for her to forget the location of next time she tended to the horse, then caught up with Phainon on the way back to his house. A rather humble abode it was, even for a small village like Aedes Elysiae. It had just enough room for a mother, a father, and their hardworking son, though it didn’t matter as much when Phainon practically lived in the fields throughout the seasons. The only time his home normally saw his presence was when he ate his meals and, on an occasion, slept in his bedroom.
Even then, that was a bit of a stretch, as the fields of wheat felt far more like a home to him than being cooped up inside all the time. Not to mention, his bed wasn’t large enough to also accommodate for Stelle, without making things between friends too awkward…
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” Phainon shouted, flinging open the door.
“Oh, dear!” Audata said. “I thought that you had gone and decided to live out on the fields from now on! You’re just as bad as your father!”
“Kid’s got a great work ethic. Can you really complain? Especially at our age,” Hieronymus said. “Phainon’s damn there cleared out the entire field by himself.”
“Not entirely by myself,” Phainon objected, “and there’s still many days’ worth of work remaining.”
Stelle poked her head in shortly after Phainon entered. Though her visit was most expected, she stood around the corner of the door and hung out. Phainon’s family didn’t even spare her a wide-eyed look of shock; if anything, it would be more unusual if he didn’t bring Stelle home.
“Makin’ the young lady do all of the work,” Hieronymus said. “Tsk tsk. I thought I raised you better than that.”
“But I offered to do it,” Stelle interjected. “It gives me an excuse to hang out with Phainon.”
His parents, out of the corner of their eyes, glanced back and forth between each other and Phainon. He looked at Stelle as if to silently tell her that now was not the time for such comments, but she said it with such a bright-eyed look on her face that he wondered if she was even aware of what she was implying at all. Or perhaps, it was on purpose; after all, she was quite intelligent beneath her eccentric ways.
“I merely jest, miss,” his father said with a laugh, though Phainon could see the lingering suspicion in his eyes.
“Luckily for the both of you, I am prepared as always,” Audata said, taking a large pot of soup off of the stove and placing it onto the dining table. “Though, I am deeply sorry that I cannot offer you more as thanks, Stelle.”
“Please don’t worry,” Stelle said, “I’m grateful that you think highly of me enough to even allow me to eat dinner with your family.”
“Well then, I shouldn’t keep my two very hard workers waiting, now should I?” Audata said, laying out a stack of bowls and a plate of bread.
“Make yourself at home, Stelle. You’re always welcome here,” Hieronymus said.
After the four of them took their seats at the dinner table, Audata took the lid off of the soup pot, filling the room with the scent of vegetables and chicken soup base. It was a fairly hearty meal, made with as much nutrition as a small residence in a farmer’s village could possibly manage. Snowy the Samoyed seemed to not care too much, as he sat down beside the table, mouth open and tail wagging in the event some scraps fell to the floor. All things considered, Stelle wondered how Phainon grew to be so…large with some of the meals she had seen him eat before. Could be the blessing of genetics, perhaps, but she did have to admit, Audata made some damn good bread.
The four of them sat in awkward silence for a few moments until Audata finally said, “Go ahead, Stelle. You’re our most welcomed guest.”
“…Aren’t I a freeloader at this point?” she asked, still somewhat unsure of where she stood within the family.
“Freeloaders don’t do work, while you’re giving my boy a run for his money,” Hieronymus said.
“Go on, Stelle,” Phainon said, nudging her in the side, “before I eat it all myself.”
Though Stelle was quite hungry, she only grabbed herself a moderately sized portion, just enough for a serving and a little extra. If there were any leftovers, perhaps she would suck it up and ask for seconds. Phainon, though the most eager to dig in, waited until he was last, then scooped up arguably more soup than Stelle, Audata, and Hieronymus combined. It seemed like a lot, but Stelle had seen his impressive appetite on display time and again. Nevertheless, she was quite impressed at the speed and sheer amount that he had devoured, and she knew that he was capable of eating even more.
After she had finished her portion, Stelle stared down the leftover soup and bread before here. She wanted more, but at the same time, she did feel bad for taking as much as she had already, especially at the rate that Phainon had devoured his. Her longing wasn’t easy to hide, and so he extended the offer for her to have some of his.
“I’ve got plenty left if you want some more,” Phainon said, pointing to some of his still intact slices of bread.
“Theres still some soup left in the pot, that is, if I am permitted to have just a little more.”
“Ah…of course you’re welcome to have another serving. Take as much as you want,” Phainon said, as he had forgotten about the leftovers in his haste to offer a share to Stelle.
Though, he looked as if he really wanted to share some of his food with her, for whatever reason.
“…But I’ll take some of your bread if you don’t want it,” Stelle said, giving into the lingering pathetic glint in his eyes.
“Take it all if you want! I have soup to tie me over,” Phainon said, handing her all but one of his slices, and dropping that one onto the floor for Snowy.
She did feel sort of bad, but the smile on Phainon’s face outweighed the tinge of guilt. It was the least he could offer her personally as thanks for the help, so it would’ve felt almost cruel to turn him down. Stelle took just a few extra scoops of soup to eat alongside her bread, and after Phainon had seen that her plate was once again full, he continued eating, making the rest of the leftovers his final domain to conquer.
To be expected, the pot of soup and plate of bread was cleared of any crumb by the end of dinner. Phainon could clear a dinner table effortlessly as if it were a field of wheat ready for harvest.
“Thanks for the meal, like always,” Stelle said, handing Audata the empty dishes. “I really wish there was more I could do to repay you. Truly.”
“Oh, please, don’t think anything of it! It’s the very least that I could do as thanks for lending my boy a hand! And besides, I don’t think I’ve seen Phainon act this happy in a while.”
Phainon shot a glance at his mom as if he were silently pleading for her to be quiet. Audata glanced over at him and made eye contact, resulting in an awkward staredown between mother and son.
“Since you’re done eating, why not go ahead and get a shower, dear?” Audata said, finally breaking the tension.
“…Shouldn’t we let Stelle go ahead and use the wash? Ladies first, after all,” he said.
“Absolutely not. You stink like a wet dog.”
Snowy took great offense to that statement initially, standing up to vocalize his protests. With a blank stare, he looked back and forth between the four humans present in the room, until fixating his gaze upon Phainon as he wagged. Suddenly, Phainon felt as if the family pet was in favor of him taking a bath first.
“Even Snowy’s against you,” Stelle said with a smile, crossing her arms.
“Or is he telling on you, saying you smell no better than a barnyard?” Phainon said.
“Well, you’ve only got one washroom. Are you suggesting we both take our turns in the washroom simultaneously?”
“Wait, that’s not what I’m suggesting! I mean, not unless you wanted to, but wouldn’t that be impractical?” Phainon said in a fury, desperately trying to discourage her from the idea.
Both of them in the moment seemed to have forgotten that both his parents and Snowy were standing within earshot, until his mom said, “Phainon, its easier if you go first. You’re already halfway there to being ready for a bath anyways.”
Phainon looked down, realizing that he had forgotten about his shirt being off ever since he was outside working in the field. And Stelle had been looking at him in this state the entire time. All in front of his parents. And perhaps, their arguments for Phainon being the first to wash off were indeed correct.
“I’ll wash your clothes for you,” Audata said. “Just…please.”
Defeated, Phainon left for the washroom, and Stelle watched as he marched off.
“Apologies. He’s normally a little too eager to get into the shower at the end of the day,” Hieronymus said. “He’s a strange young man at times though, what can you honestly expect?”
“Oh, please, its fine,” Stelle said, setting her hat down on the table.
“I do wish that we had a little more to offer for you, but unfortunately, I’ve grown old and there is only so much that my aging body can handle.”
“I have nothing to complain about. I get meals, I have my clothes cleaned, I won’t ever run out of work, and I have a great friend to hang out with. I don’t really need much more than that.”
A great friend to hang out with. As if that even began to scratch the surface of the entire story.
“Well, kid,” Hieronymus continued, “just know that you’re welcome as part of our family. You help us so much, so you might as well be.”
The slight, sly grin on his face held other implications, but Stelle simply resorted to saying, “Thanks I appreciate it, really.”
After some time, Phainon walked out of the washroom, hair still damp but body fully covered with a fresh set of clothes. Though he noticed the smug expression on his father’s face, he had no interest in prying further to find any answers.
“Well then, my friend. Washroom’s all yours,” Phainon said.
“I’ll wash your dress for you too, and I’ll leave a change of clothes for you outside the door,” Audata said.
After Stelle had finished cleansing herself in the washroom, the question that remained was where she was going to sleep for the night. She was planning on perhaps crashing on a makeshift bed on the floor of Phainon’s room, but he had suggested that beforehand, they escape to the hillside to lay in the wheat field and indulge in a moment of quiet and relaxation together. Laying in the field always had the exact same outcome, no matter the amount of promises Phainon and Stelle had made to return by nightfall.
“We’ll be back soon. We’re just going to relax in the fields for a bit,” Phainon claimed as he had numerous times before.
As Hieronymus looked through the window and watched them stroll off, he said, “You do realize that they probably won’t be returning home for the rest of the evening, no?”
“I’ve long since assumed that, but both him and Stelle are in good hands with each other. Phainon wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and Stelle has done a good job of keeping his head straight,” Audata said, with a soft smile.
“…Plus, you’ve practically adopted that lass as your own daughter at this rate.”
“Might as well. It’s only a matter of time before one of them fesses up. Maybe I can hope that tonight is the night one of them speaks up.”
“I doubt it,” Hieronymus said. “That boy’s as dense as a brick.”
“But he’s not stupid. Even I can see the love that Stelle has for him in her eyes.”
“It almost makes me want to intervene and give them a little push myself,” Audata said, looking out the window.
Just barely under the cover of dusk, Hieronymus and Audata could make out the silhouettes of Phainon and Stelle walking off into the fields. The two of them were laughing, stumbling, jumping along, with hardly a thought of returning home seemingly in mind.
“Let them figure things out,” Hieronymus said. “The right time will come for them eventually.”