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Chapter Text

Eleint 12, The Butcher's House

Taredd collapsed onto his bed, ignoring the immediate punch of wood against his forehead and instead attempting to focus on the smell of straw.

He’d just gotten comfortable, planning for a relaxing stay in unconscious bliss, when a weight dropped abruptly onto his spine, reminding him that he’d been working since dawn.

“Talos, please.” He tried to wriggle the beast off of his aching back, and claws dug through his shirt as he held on. “Fine, I get it. I get it.”

Heavy paws landed in the ground next to him, and Talos chirped at him expectantly. Taredd dragged himself to a sitting position, looking down at Talos’ stormy eyes. He flicked his tail in annoyance but allowed Taredd to reach down and scritch the top of his head before he got up, opening the front door so Talos could bound outside. He sagged against the doorframe, scrubbing a hand over his face.

He was lonely.

It seemed that even Talos ran from him whenever he got the chance, his affection most often shown in the form of new scratches on his bed frame instead of his barely-cushioned straw mattress, unwilling to acknowledge the amount of times he bullied his way under the covers and curled up against his chest.

Taredd had friends, or at least, he considered them friends, but imagined to them he was little more than the local butcher. Even Halsin, who he frequently assisted with his undead roommate, probably considered him as just another neighbor. Halsin, even if he was patient and kind and charming and beautiful and…

“Nine hells,” Taredd sighed, sinking to the floor, his feet sliding into the grass beyond his doorstep. He needed—

Talos burst from a patch of grass, paws slamming down on an unseen critter in front of him.

“Good job,” he praised, watching him take delicate nibbles from whatever he caught. “What was I even thinking about,” he muttered aloud, worrying his temple with a thumb. It sent soothing pressure through his head, easing the tension of the day. His shoulders ached. His back was sore. His ears were ringing from the sound of metal cleaving bone. He wished, not for the first time, that switching careers was as easy as it had been when he’d first moved to the budding village.

Taredd grew up cutting meat. His father seemed to ingrain it in him when he was learning his animals, flank from skirt from tenderloin as he was learning cat from dog. His education came from his father’s sister, who had been a teacher and insisted she was not going to leave her nephew illiterate. It may not have been his passion but he was good at it, in the same way he was good at a lot of things but lacked drive to do any of them. He was distractible on his best days, aimless on his normal ones. Cutting was a way to find rhythm, to get his head and his hands to do something they had been born to do. Even then it had come with lessons, he thought as he stared at the cut off points of his littlest fingers on his right hand.

He needed to cut his nails.

He looked out at the grass again to see if Talos was ready to come inside, and flushed with embarrassment when he saw Halsin out on what was probably a trip to the evening market. A crate sat next to him, and he was kneeling in the grass, his hands buried in the thick fur on Talos’ neck. Taredd scrambled to his feet and stuffed them into his shoes.

“Talos! I apologize, he’s completely shameless.”

Halsin looked up from his petting, the last remnants of the sunlight framing him in dusky pink and the brisk wind causing him to retuck his hair over his ear and allow for agonizing eye contact.

Taredd didn’t swoon, but the nerves in his throat went down with difficulty.

“He’s been busy.” Halsin’s amused voice, low and pleasant and soothing, warmed him from his toes to his fingers. “It seems he enjoys having an audience when he’s hunting.” Talos’ face was covered in blood. Taredd stepped by where he’d paused to eat and realized he’d caught a small field mouse. He approached Halsin as he twisted his hand in a sea of silver chest fur. Talos was purring like rolling thunder.

Seeing the most beautiful man in the entire world petting his beautiful cat was doing something to Taredd’s head that made it pound harder.

“He’s filthy,” Taredd complained, watching Talos roll onto his side and into the dirt, Halsin’s hand sliding down and over his massive fluffy belly as Talos stretched his body as long as his limbs would allow. Halsin chuckled, looking down at Taredd’s biggest hater, who was staring him down as if challenging him.

“You lucky little bastard,” he muttered to his cat.

“To hunt and to roll in dirt are part of what makes his life full of pleasures.” Halsin slid his hand up one of his forelegs and gently massaged one of his massive paws, wiggling his thumb against the pads and making his claws extend all the way out. “Animals are such simple and wonderful creatures. They do exactly what pleases them. Drawn to warmth. To food.” He brushed his other hand over Talos’ cheek, and Taredd could practically feel himself tilting into the contact, incredibly jealous of how confidently Talos nuzzled against it. “To… mates.” He cast a glance at Taredd, and he became aware of how close he was standing, hovering over them to ensure Talos didn’t embarrass him by biting Halsin’s hand.

He took two steps back and could no longer smell the sweat on his skin, swallowing back the saliva that had pooled in his mouth.

Talos startled at the sound of dirt scraping under his shoes and jumped to his feet, arching up under Halsin’s persistent scratches before turning to swat at him clawlessly. Halsin raised his hands defensively, chucking in response.

“You needn’t speak to me like that,” Halsin said. “He did not intend to startle you.”

“Sorry, Sir,” Taredd muttered, unsure why he defected to Talos as his boss, although the relationship was not an inaccurate description.

He realized with bile rising to his throat that he had done it to try and impress Halsin.

“He’s well looked after,” Halsin commented as he rose to his feet, plucking his crate off the ground. “I can tell he’s in very caring hands. Don’t let him convince you he’s upset with you.” Talos brushed his feathered tail over Halsin’s calf as he wound his way back to his mouse. “A blessing for your evening, my friends.”

Taredd waved him away, worried just how much his exhausted and embarrassed brain would keep the filter to his mouth in place. He looked at Talos and bent to scratch between his ears, which he decided was alright. He wondered if Halsin might make a better owner to him.

Talos finished his mouse, brushed Taredd's hand, and trotted through the open front door, looking back with his tail high above his back.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming.”

With a companion like him, who needed humanoid friends?

Chapter Text

Marpenoth 12, Town Center

“Which one’s yours?”

Arkin looked over from where he was watching Hollis play with a handful of other children, thrilled to see him getting along with two human girls and another little tiefling boy. A man was looming over him, his ears and size betraying him as human.

“Oh, not mine,” Arkin said, grinning nervously. “My, er… my friend’s kid. I’m helping her out while she does errands with her sister.”

He was reminded again of the ambiguity of his and Thistle’s relationship. Since he’d moved into town, she’d been sweet, welcoming, and made him feel like he had a place in the village. When he told her he’d be taking over the old tavern and renovating it, she’d remarked, “A shame. I was hoping I’d get to see you more,” and her eyes sparkled with flirtation. Arkin had fallen hopelessly in love with her after spending a whirlwind of a tenday with her, spending more nights in her bed than his own. She was clear about what she wanted with him, but the thought of possibly ruining it by asking her “what are we” made his heart ache. They had a good thing going.

“Hollis!” Arkin called, and the boy popped his head  up from where he was poking at the dirt. “You alright?”

“Yes!” He said back, and then went back to his game.

“Nice boy,” said the man as he sat down. “It’s good that there are so many other kids in the village. Mei deserves to have as normal a childhood as I can give her, including friends her age.”

Arkin hummed in agreement. “Thistle, Hollis’ mother, is glad for the other parents around. Makes her feel less alone.”

“Well, she’s got a friend like you, too.”

He huffed air out through his snout in a sigh.

“I’m sensing some conflict.”

“It’s personal,” Arkin muttered.

“There are hardly thirty people here. I’m practically your neighbor. I’m curious, so you could tell me now, or I could hear about it in a tenday. Sengar, by the way.” He extended a hand.

“Arkin,” he replied, shaking it. “I feel too old to be having love problems.”

“They never go away,” Sengar muttered. “There’s a couple of elves in our village, you know. One of them’s three hundred and fifty years old. He’ll tell you all about it.”

Arkin did his best imitation of a whistle, a flat, reptilian sound exiting him. “I’m not feeling so old, suddenly.”

“That’s the spirit. Halsin’s easy to talk to, too. I’ll let him know he should hunt you down.”

“Ah, don’t you think that’s going overboard?” Arkin asked.

Sengar waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. He’ll be thrilled to have someone new around. I’m surprised you haven’t met already. Now tell me about your lady troubles.”

Arkin took a deep breath. “Well… I really like her. She’s incredible. Helped me feel right at home, fit me into her life like I’d always been there, and her son’s such a great kid. I want to have something more with her.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but.’”

“But if I tell her that, and that’s not what she wants, I might be ruining a good thing.”

Sengar nodded. “Does she keep to herself a lot?”

“Yeah,” Arkin said. “She’s skittish about opening up, even if she’s friendly. She’s had to deal with a lot, being a tiefling and a single mum. She’s been around a lot and I don’t think she believes she can put down roots here. So much has happened in the last few months, I think she’s scared of committing. After her last partner left when she got pregnant, I can’t imagine she’s eager to get comfortable.”

“Have you talked to her about how you’re feeling without outright asking her? What if you do that and then she comes to you when she’s ready?”

Arkin groaned and put his face in his hands. “But what if she thinks I’m being pushy?”

“Isn’t that your goal?” Sengar asked. “You’re urging her to think about what she wants. You don’t want to be dragged along when you’ve got all these feelings bottled up.”

Arkin huffed. “When you put it like that it sounds even worse.”

Sengar laughed lightly. “Sorry, I am trying to be helpful.”

“It’s alright. I appreciate it,” Arkin muttered. Sengar had a point. It wasn’t as if Thistle wasn’t interested. He had enough self-respect to imagine she wouldn’t sleep with him simply because he was nice to her or was a nearby and available person when she was looking for relief. They had been inseparable since they met, despite Thistle having others she spent time with. He liked her, but didn’t want to feel perpetually toyed with if that was all she wanted with him. And he didn’t have to force a choice on her— he could just tell her how he felt and ask her how she was feeling. If they were on the same page, maybe it would be the start of something lovely.

Arkin could really benefit from something lovely in his life.

“I’ll chew on it some more,” he said. “Maybe look for that elf.”

“There is nobody better for counsel. Or for some hard work, if you need it. You scrounged any furniture for where you’re staying?”

Arkin nodded. “I’m using a bunch of old stuff from the tavern for right now. Most of the beds were cleared out when I got there, but there were enough half-full straw cushions to put together something temporary. It’ll get better with time.”

“You’ve got good spirits about you,” Sengar said. “You’ll get it figured out.”

“Thanks,” Arkin replied, and looked up to see Hollis running over with his hands clutched around something.

“Arkin! Arkin! I caught a lizard! It looks just like you!”

Arkin grimaced. He was going to have to start teaching Hollis what was and wasn’t okay to compare people to.

“Yikes,” Sengar said. “Good luck with your endeavors, neighbor,” he stood up, waving over one of the little girls. “Time to go home, Mei.”

“Aww, but da—“

“Come on. Sun’s going down. You’ve got a playdate, remember?”

“Oh, right!” The little girl scampered over to her father as soon as she’d finished saying goodbye to the other kid, and Arkin leaned forward to investigate what Hollis had caught.

He was grateful to his new neighbor for offering his advice. Reithwin was bound to be such a close-knit community that everyone knew everyone’s business. He only hoped he could be brave enough to help make it happen.