Work Text:
Trigg stood before the mirror altogether longer than he was ever in the habit of doing. He had taken extra care in his grooming on that day, having scrubbed his body of any dirt and grime from the morning’s fieldwork, and washed his hair until the dense, black curls were soft as a lamb’s coat.
His outfit was a simple shirt with brown vest, and matching pants and belt. The shirt was a little off-white, but it was the best he had, and as spotless as he could make it on that day.
In their recent meeting, Sherice had expressed such enthusiasm for the countryside that he was persuaded to offer her a tour. As he didn’t have many other entertainments available, this was one way to repay her for her kindness in providing him wood at an affordable cost, as well as a brand-new axe free of charge.
He didn’t know why he felt so flustered at the thought of spending an afternoon with a girl who was little more than an acquaintance. He did not often have guests over.
The barking of the dog in the yard let him know that she was here, and Trigg tore himself away from his wandering thoughts, rushing to put on his boots so he could meet her outside.
His mother was asleep in one of the rooms. He didn’t think it was necessary to bother her, so he stepped out quietly.
_
Sherice looked lovely in her canary-colored dress and wavy blond locks. Yellow seemed to be her color.
He met her at the wooden gate, where they began their walk on foot.
They passed pastures where sheep and cows could be seen grazing, heads bowed to their task, and taking no notice of them as they passed by, eventually making it to some rolling grasslands, dotted by clumps of trees. The air was filled with the smells of damp earth, late-blooming flowers, and autumn.
It had been raining all the week before, and the ground was still full of mud puddles. Trigg offered his hand to help Sherice navigate the wet spots, so that she would not get the hem of her dress dirty, or strike her delicate shoes on a hard stone.
As he touched her hand, Trigg paused to observe how their different skin colors contrasted: rich brown on creamy, lily-white.
When Sherice asked about his family, he was compelled to break his silence. He told her that his father and older brother had both died in battle, and it was just him and his mother now, who he was taking care of as she was ill. He talked briefly about their bad-tempered neighbour, who had plans to make an alliance through offer of marriage which Trigg had rejected years ago, and which the old man still held a grudge about.
Sherice listened with gentle sympathy, and shared about her own life, in such a carefree manner that it surprised Trigg.
It turned out that she was an orphan in her own way. Her mother had passed long ago, and her father more recently, after an illness, leaving only her and her older brother to manage their estate. They weren’t poor, but they were not so wealthy as to afford not to work. She mentioned that the woodblocks were actually prepared by her older brother, while the design and craft of the “special” wooden appendages were credited to herself, in addition to managing the shop and making it a pleasant place for people to come.
She spoke of the types of customers they served, and how her brother was supportive of her preferences. She had been engaged to a young man who had perished in a sailing accident, the engagement being an arrangement made by her father. Following their father’s death, her brother never forced her to accept any other suitor that came her way.
Then her expression changed to something of gloom, if it were possible on such an angelic face.
On hinting of the types of people that had frequented her shop in the past, she mentioned the King’s court, and rumours she had heard of people being put in dungeons and tortured for loving others of the same sex out in the open. Trigg wasn’t sure how to respond, so he continued listening in silence.
All this talk of dark things could not tarnish the girl’s spirit. She carried on with the same spring in her step, then stopped suddenly and pointed at a cluster of light-purple flowers growing between some trees at the edges of the field. As they approached close, she explained how those were usually torn from the ground, being a different color from the usual rose shade that was typical for that flower, and therefore interpreted as bringing bad luck. She said she prefers that color, and seemed to stare at it in a lingering way as they passed it by.
_
They worked their way through the craggy fields, to an area that was muddier than usual. Trigg was about to turn around from here, when he noticed something in the ground.
“Watch your step,” he told Sherice, stopping her just in time as she was about to step over some stones. He bent down in front of her feet and scooped up what looked like a rock covered in mud.
They found a nearby stream, where Trigg washed it clean, revealing it to be a little turtle.
Sherice was delighted to see the creature wigging around in its speckled shell. Trigg offered it to her as a present, which she accepted happily.
The event marked the end of their journey, as Trigg felt it was a good time to head back.
As they parted ways by the wooden gate, Sherice holding the turtle wrapped in her handkerchief, expressing gratitude for the walk, her face slightly flushed with an emotion Trigg couldn’t quite place, he just knew this wouldn’t be the last time he would be seeing her.