Archive of Our Own

Fall was ever approaching. Unlike other places in Kupa, the southern side remained relatively warm, with only cool nights to account for. It’s mainly why Tolkien stuck around the area. He’s been all around Kupa as a medicine man, helping the needy and making good friends along the way.

About half a decade ago, he had a very secretive client come by slowly and noticed he would come to the same tavern for the first year. He’d ask vague questions, leave for weeks, sometimes months on end, before he came by once more.

A thief. It didn’t take Tolkien too long to understand he was a man on a job. The cleric didn’t actually have a problem with thieves or mercenaries in general. Usually, they weren’t Kupa-born civilians. With the end of the rebellion, people living right outside Kupa took advantage of the vulnerability Kupa’s towns experienced and entered in hopes of finding riches.

The thief was eventually open enough even to give his name.

Feldspar began asking more direct questions. Again, Tolkien didn’t mind. He had people come in and out, passersby, regulars, who always had too much to say all the time. He heard things that were useful to the thief. 

Oftentimes, Feldspar’s own doings would circle back to his own tavern.

It’s been four months since he last saw the thief. With the news of sightings of the Elven King at the capital, the entire city is jumping with nerves. Tolkien was more concerned with the thief. He hoped he’d still be alive at least, managed to get away, and run off to his desired future.

If he were dead, well, Token would pay him a tribute in the form of a drink.

The barbarian also came to mind. It appeared stuff got serious for him back home the moment news of his absence spread like wildfire.

Since the last time a patron spoke to him about the subject, there appeared to be no luck, but some snarky mayors took the opportunity to give the people a monetary incentive to look harder for the barbarian. The king’s reward money was still on the table, and it was a large prize that Tolkien doubted anyone would actually receive.

A small part of him worried for the blonde. He seemed so lost yet so eager to journey out of Kupa. If Tolkien had to be honest, the boy wouldn’t survive alone any longer than he had so far during his time passing by towns in Kupa.

It was the early morning after a particularly rowdy night. He used a washcloth to wipe up the spilled rum and the boot prints on the tables, the bar, and the ground. It was his typical morning routine. Then, he’d walk across the path to Nichole’s bakery, where she would be preparing her bread and sweets. 

She was very kind. She ran the shop for her parents, who lived above the main establishment. Tolkien offered her company when no clientele was around. They always knew when the end of their conversation was, as soon as the wooden slats on the front squealed open. It meant customers would be showing up at his tavern soon enough. He had help from young fellows looking for a nice, easy job, but at the end of the day, he was also the face of the place.

Tolkien would leave her to her craft while he returned to his own.

He entered and noticed a boy he didn’t recognize reaching into the back of the tavern, where his medicinal room was. He slowly approached the boy, who faced away from him and attempted to push the door open. Tolkien aggressively pulled him back, drawing a knife pointed toward his neck.

“Who the hell are you?” 

“Reporting from the castle, sir!” The scout raised his hands in surrender. “I’ve come to deliver a message for the Witch Doctor.” Huh.

He was known as a witch doctor in his early years. Not many people know that nowadays. The boy was already interesting to Tolkien. He pulled his knife back, the scout letting out a deep exhale of relief.

“My apologies,” the cleric backed away, looking back at the entrance to see the first couple of patrons just barely walking in. He stuffed his weapon back in his pants. “How long have you been on the road, kid?”

“Twelve days, sir,”  The scout gave Tolkien a small bow, pulling from his bag a smaller envelope with a red wax seal. The embedded compass showed authenticity. The boy hands him the letter.

“Thanks.”

He asks the boy to wait momentarily as the cleric grabs a couple of marks as a token of both gratitude and apology. The scout takes it mercifully, bidding him farewell and walking past the patrons out of the tavern.

“Hey Tolkien, who was that?” One of the men asks.

The cleric stashes the letter on his person, turning back to the clientele. “Just a scout.” Tolkien smiled.

Tolkien sneaks into his medicinal room in the middle of the day, with the current boy working for him taking charge of the tavern momentarily. Curiosity killed him, and if it came from the castle itself, who knew who the hell would request his presence.

Witch Doctor
Take the route to the northern grasslands. A farmer has a healthy harvest this time of year.
Bring treats for two.
F

His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what was written in front of him. The cleric is so taken aback that he falls onto his chair, leaning back and staring at his ceiling with a loud exhale.

It wasn’t a fabricated letter; the cleric was confident in it. The northern grasslands referred to Feldspar’s cabin on the northwestern side of Kupa. He spoke of it in passing. From the few times he’s stayed there multiple days, his food source came from nearby agriculture that neighbored his cabin. ‘Treats for two,’ if Tolkien didn’t know any better, he’d assume he was hosting a celebration between them two.

Feldspar at the castle? A royal scout directly coming to deliver Feldspar’s message? Tolkien was more than intrigued, quickly standing to grab things off his shelves, purifiers and enhancers.

It would take some asking around to have a firm direction, but it wouldn’t be an issue for Tolkien. If the thief was sending a letter, a first for their relationship, the cleric wasn’t going to take the request lightly.

But he still couldn’t fathom it. How is Feldspar alive? Tolkien did the mental math to estimate the duration of the thief’s journey. Is the barbarian still with him, after this long? Knowing the thief, he’s more than likely gotten himself into deeper shit than expected, or even necessary, and was now on the run.

But that’s how the average prideful thief operated.

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

Tweek and Craig shared one of many servants’ quarters in one of the lower levels of the castle. 

The princess and Craig agreed that if Cartman returned unexpectedly, it would be the last place he would check. Kenny emptied the room so they would not be disturbed, also because, according to him, many of the servants around were incredibly nosy.

“You have a pretty face," Kenny winked. "It’ll definitely attract some of them while you sleep."

Tweek staggered at her comment. He’s been told he’s pretty his entire life, but he’s never really understood it. He hasn’t had the opportunity to look at his reflection very often.

It was a small chamber with a set of stacked beds, no windows, and a box with miscellaneous items belonging to the rightful inhabitants. The walls were made of stone, unlike the nicer chambers belonging to the royals and previous nobles who once resided here. 

It was freezing. Tweek shook in his sleep.

Cartman stood in front of him. The veins in his forehead almost popped from the aggravating screaming. Tweek tried to back away and run from Cartman, but at every turn, Cartman returned in front of him, closer. The blonde runs into a corner, and the wizard grabs at his throat.

“Caught you,” he teased, squeezing so tight Tweek couldn’t breathe. Cartman whispered, his voice reverberating in Tweek’s head over and over again.

He jolted awake. Cold sweat ran down his neck; his breathing was heavy. He looked around the room and saw no sign of Cartman.

Tweek feared some deep part of him was still taken advantage of, that the king still had some control over him. He was able to see everything. He felt every touch, but his thoughts and actions clashed. He impotently watched as the thief’s tears fell down his face, dripping to Tweek’s chest, his shoulders.

And when the knife struck, Tweek hadn’t even recognized that he did it until the blood seeped through Craig’s layers. His eyes burned; his only focus was Craig’s face. 

Tweek was grateful for the enhanced senses he had gained from the spirits' energy. But this brutal manipulation was the work of the dark forces in Zaron. Cartman was the embodiment of all that was bad, and it had infected him. 

Observing the room again, there was also no figure resembling Craig. Tweek got up, nervously looking over the top bunk to see if he might’ve moved instead. But nothing. Except the thief’s cloak was still on the bottom bunk, meaning he couldn’t have abandoned him.

The blonde sat still on the makeshift bed. It was an uncomfortable night, but he wasn’t sure whether to blame the bed or his mind. He teared up. His hands gripped the sides of his upper arms, shielding his chest. 

There was still the puncture the paladin had made. He wasn’t sure if it was permanent, but every time he brushed his thumb against the small dent in his skin, he winced. 

Tweek wondered if the sun was out yet. He briefly considered stepping out and walking to the nearest window, taking in the scenery of Kupa. Once again, he felt like his visit had been fleeting, just a blur of large, looming walls and a whirl of new faces. Just as he was about to walk over to the door, the knob slowly turned.

The blonde gasps, crawling to the corner of the bottom bunk. He drew his knees up to his chest, watching intently as the door creaked slowly. But his trepidation quickly dissipated as a familiar knitted blue cap peeked in.

“Oh,” Craig muttered. “Did I wake you up?” He entered the room normally. In his hand, he had two dark brown packs.

“No,” Tweek leaned in as Craig approached the bunk. “What is that?” Craig sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk with Tweek to his side, cross-legged. The thief set down the packs, opening and showing Tweek. Inside were marks, bedrolls, spherical canteens, and sets of knives. Tweek gasped. “Where did you get this?”

“Around,” Craig closed them, handing one for Tweek to grab. “We’re leaving. The sea level dropped.”

The capital was a detached island from the rest of the kingdom, like the Elven Capital. To cross the large body of water, one could take a ship or cross the large, linear path. It was made of rock and firm dirt. The downside was that the sea level was never consistent. It would rise high enough that the path would sink in, or the tides would move low enough to give way.

Tweek followed Craig through the castle once more. This time, there was much less danger to watch out for. The lower levels looked much scarier during the very early morning. No one was awake, not even guards watching the halls. The sun just barely threatened to come up from what the blonde noticed from the glance of a small window in the kitchen. The castle's borders were visible, with distant grassy hills and a deep blue sky. Tweek hoped no rain would come down on them. What if it rained so aggressively that the sea level rose and they got stuck in the middle of the ocean?

They reached the kingdom’s stables. It was a disconnected structure from the castle itself. Inside, pillars ran along the sides of the building, separating the horses. Old wood, broken brick stones, bags worth of food for the animals piled at the end of the room.

If Tweek had to be honest, it smelled like feces. It nearly made him gag. He’s been around bodily remains used for ritual, but the odor in the stable made him want to hurl. The barbarian nearly held his breath in an attempt to evade the smell as much as possible.

No one was maintaining these animals, and if they were, they were doing a poor job. Tweek frowned. But the horses looked peaceful; some were weaning, others had woken as wooden doors creaked open. Tweek glanced at each one of them.

Craig approached one of the stalls, forcing the locks open using the knife in his hand.

“Pick any stall. I doubt they’ll notice.” The thief pulled the rope from the black stallion he had freed. He muttered at the animal in an attempt to keep it calm, finding a saddle to position over its back.

Tweek looked back, a brown-fur foal sleeping soundly, a white mare wide awake, watching intently. He’s only really ridden on a horse with another person. He’s never been good at controlling the animal, and more often than not, he’s been stuck in situations where he’s fallen over or didn’t know how to slow it down. He remembers that during one of their annual tourneys, he was nearly trampled after falling forward during their jousting segment. Needless to say, it was the last year he was allowed to participate.

“Can we go together?” Tweek’s voice unintentionally cracked; he coughed in embarrassment. The thief turned to look at Tweek, giving the blonde a once-over. The blonde bit his lip, growing nervous. “I don’t—”

“Okay.” Craig’s eyes nearly glowed. Tweek wanted to say he almost looked excited. Instead, he gave the thief a bashful smile. Craig returned the smile, looking for another saddle.

They took from the back of the castle, where a metal gate was ajar. They passed by the barracks, and the mysterious structure that Craig explained to Tweek was the gate to Elverion. Although it was locked shut, a faint light could be seen emanating from the building. Tweek thought about what they had left back at the Kingdom: his bow, his knife, his mother's herbs. On the one hand, he wanted to try to return, but he knew it was risky to stay around at all. Craig was already urgently trying to get out in the first place. 

Tweek also knew that the thief was deeply uncomfortable with being in the Kupa castle at all, which the blonde didn't blame him for. 

If the Barbarian had to return to his home along with Craig and watch Craig possibly be harmed by any Barbarian hand, Tweek would have possibly dramatized matters in ways that he would never have done otherwise. He shivered at the thought of his mother again. At the sight of Craig again.

He’s seen corpses before, or parts of dead bodies, but having to witness a nearly deceased Craig made him involuntarily jolt against the thief’s back. They sat on the horse, Craig taking the lead while Tweek pressed against him.

“What’s wrong?” Craig turned to glance at Tweek.

“Nothing,” Tweek muttered, keeping his head low against Craig’s shoulder. “Cold.”

Unlike his trip with Kyle, Tweek felt he could sit lax against Craig, who didn't seem to mind the contact. The barbarian felt Craig’s posture similarly relax, the slow, steady breathing calming Tweek, nearly sending him to sleep.

He tried not to fall into a slumber in fear of the haunting visions returning. Instead, he focused on the dark grasslands. Despite it being the capital, the city seemed sporadic from afar. Craig chose to take them farther from the communities, fearing anyone spotting the barbarian. 

Tweek’s cheeks warmed at the lengthy efforts Craig had been taking for him. Yet the haunting cold breeze, attempting to scare away the flustered feeling, came back around to make the blonde feel worse.

As sunrise began to emerge, they arrived at the edge of the island, where a long, stone path awaited them. The long, never-ending sea swelled side to side, clashing against the stone. The sound of the sea was insurmountable. Tweek squinted as he tried to imagine what was beyond just water. Without hesitation, Craig carried on.

He picked up the pace, the horse making the pair occasionally bump into its back. The clinking of its feet is the only sound willing to attempt to surpass the ocean itself. The wind was much cooler. Tweek’s cloak brushed through the air, bringing chills to his spine. While it felt freeing, like a new sensation that made him feel less confined, it was still a terrifying sight in itself.

“Will we fall?” Tweek leaned into Craig’s ear, his teeth chattering.

“No.” The blonde felt a gloved hand give a reassuring brush against his pair of hands. He tightened his hold on the thief.

Tweek had to admit, he was thankful to have a form of transportation that didn’t just involve his feet. The journey across wasn’t actually as horrible and terrifying as he had envisioned, and as they returned to the whole land once more, Craig continued at a steady pace until nightfall.

Their routine was very similar to what it had been when they began traveling together at the end of spring. Most agriculture remained relatively healthy, from what Tweek could identify. They passed by much of the open fields, avoiding the towns when they could. When they were in town, the pair attempted to remain as inconspicuous as possible, keeping their contact limited and vanishing before anyone could point them out.

Tweek kept the horse fed and content, while Craig worked on the social aspect of their journey. At night, if they were sleeping on the outskirts of a nearby town, Craig often instructed Tweek to stay with the horse while Craig went into town. He remained vague about what exactly he was doing. At first, the barbarian assumed he was going to steal again, telling him off. The thief attempted to assure him that he wasn’t, and that he was simply “doing business.”

Thus, Tweek would remain sitting in the open campfire they had set up for the night—avoiding inns and all that—eating away at cooked pork meat Craig had gotten at one of the butcher shops in town.

“Aya o mara ahmagh farz mikand? Dareh mono inja miyozareh ta yah bar npam keh shodeh betoneh taneyayi vaght begzaroneh.” (Does he think I’m stupid? He’s leaving me here so he can spend time alone for once.)

Tweek spoke in the direction of the horse, who calmly ate the pasture on their feet. The barbarian sighs and slinks back down on the ground, a tear creeping at the corner of his eye. He wouldn’t be surprised at the notion. Perhaps he wasn’t being a satisfactory partner in all of this.

In romantic partners, he’s seen back in tribes, it was common for one to be bored with their partner, often seeking more interesting and more fruitful people. Tweek always had conflicting opinions. Many couples were non-monogamous. Except his parents. While his parents insisted he would eventually become attached to “the one,” other young people his age often spoke of their families introducing newer, younger partners into an already extensive lineage.

Tweek thought about his hypothetical arrangement. His parents’ ceremony came to mind. He would’ve worn different markings, more lively ones that accentuate his face and his figure. Some craftswomen of the tribe, whom he on occasion observed working, created fine sculpted accessories to wear on one’s special day. They would dangle over the torso, some wrapped around the upper arms. They would puncture holes in his nose, his ears, and his upper lip to insert the jewelry.

His companion would be in similar attire. He imagined Craig in a similar attire to his, with the same marks as him. The thief’s scars would be evident; his tan skin would shine beautifully under the spirit’s light. The blonde smirked at the thought that, despite being stripped down to simply pants, the thief would probably keep his knitted cap on.

They would draw blood from one of their many punctured jewelry—typically a matching one between partners—marking it on the capital’s shrine to cement the finality of their courtship. A promise that they would be buried together and given as a gift to the spirits when their time came. 

Oh, how beautiful, Tweek thought.

The fantasy came crashing down upon realizing what exactly he was envisioning. The blonde shook his head in perturbation, more like disciplining himself. It would never happen, obviously. Tweek was positive that courting wasn’t common practice, especially for the likes of people like Craig.

Besides, Tweek didn’t know if the true intention of leaving Kupa once and for all was because Craig desired to, or if it was for the sake of keeping Tweek out of any high authority’s hands. He felt it was too much of an investment for Craig over a person he solely sought for the sake of a job.

But Craig says he never ‘blames’ Tweek for any of their mishaps. He praises Tweek for the sporadic efforts the blonde has contributed this entire trip. Besides being a seemingly well-versed compass, Tweek found himself in doubt. 

His parents constantly praised him and made conscious efforts to uplift the young barbarian. And look where that got them.

When the noisy crowds died down and the lights throughout the town could be seen fading out one by one, Tweek knew Craig would be coming around soon enough. The barbarian huddled near the warmth of the fire, watching attentively at all angles for a tall, dark, and handsome shadow approaching his little sojourn.

The daydream returned to the forefront of his mind, keeping his overwhelming paranoid thoughts about other, more pressing issues at bay. He welcomed it; it didn’t hurt to dream.

Craig stumbled toward Tweek, giving the blonde a faulty greeting before collapsing on the ground next to him. In the thief’s hand, he carried a pouch that clinked upon impact. He smelled strongly of rum. Tweek rolled his eyes, picking the bag up and inspecting it. Marks.

“How much?” Tweek inquired.

“Enough,” Craig groaned. “My head is spinning.” 

“You shouldn’t drink so much.” 

The thief overindulged. It was too common for him to be drinking nowadays. Instead of Tweek being the one struggling to wake up in the morning, it was Craig.

It was a shame Tweek didn’t have any form of remedy to offer the thief, and since Craig didn’t trust what any medicine man was trying to sell for cheap, he chose to suffer the hard way through brute force to surpass the lingering pain. It certainly slowed their journey by a tad.

Tweek watched as Craig shifted his head to face the fire. He pulled his hat from his head to rest on it like a pillow. The barbarian fought the urge to run his fingers through it. His hair was pretty long now, but not as long as Tweek’s. His dark, midnight hair hid his neck, teasing the pasture from making contact. Tweek’s own hair reached his shoulders; he often kept it tied back. 

His mother always ran her own fingers through his hair when times were particularly stressful or if she had him sit on the ground, braiding his hair. It had a calming effect on Tweek, and he hoped that when he did it to the thief, it would elicit the same reaction.

Tweek watched as the thief began to quietly snore, unable to do the same. He hadn’t been sleeping well at all to avoid the visions. Instead, he stared at Craig sleeping, or at the sky above them, or watched the townspeople drift into their own abodes. 

He didn’t maintain the routine for much longer, dozing off during one of their stretches. Tweek didn’t notice when he let his arms drop from around Craig’s torso, allowing them to settle loosely around his waist. He was completely unaware when he began peacefully snoring against the nook of Craig’s neck.

The blonde only remembers the flashes of blood, the running, and the sudden jolt he makes when he awakes. He screeches, falling back and off the jogging horse. His back hits the ground with a hard thud, pushing the air out of Tweek’s lungs.

Tweek’s eyes well up, attempting to catch his breath as the soft thuds of the black stallion return. The thief hops down and rushes toward the blond on the ground.

“Are you alright?” Craig pulls Tweek's face toward him, his expression a mix of worry that takes over Tweek's entire line of sight. Tweek feels the thief's hand creep around to the back of his head, massaging it for a moment, then moving back to his cheek. The blond nods, trying to sit up, only to be kept down by a hand pressing firmly on his chest. “Hold on, give your body a minute. You literally bashed your head on the ground.” 

Tweek felt warm tears trickle down his face, hitting his ear. He sniffled. Craig's frown deepened as he wiped away the tears, trying to soothe him.

“Am I bleeding?” Tweek’s voice croaked, bringing his hand to grab at Craig’s arm. Craig let out a puff of air through his nose in amusement.

“No, don’t worry. I wouldn’t be so calm if you were,” Craig’s thumb lazily caressed his cheek. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Tweek’s pupils widened. At first, he remembered his vision. Then, he paid attention to what was real and actively in front of him: the thief. Craig looked at him with such care, his eyes so attentive to Tweek’s own expressions. The same expression of worry back in the castle. He felt his face grow hot, his throat clamp up. He choked on his own surge of emotions, and they came out unfiltered.

“The king haunts me!” He exclaimed. “He follows me, he wants to return to my body!” He squeezed the thief’s arm. The thief was clearly taken aback; the hand caressing his face abruptly stopped moving.

The silence allowed him to realize a few things. The pasture below him made his skin itch. The sky above was darkening minute by minute. He could hear the soft steps of the stallion and the gentle crunching sounds nearby. His breathing was loud and erratic, the weight of his emotions blocking him from taking a full breath.

“You see him in your dreams?” Craig finally spoke. His voice was the same as ever, but the traveling eyes told a very different story. Tweek nodded. “What does he say?”

Tweek grew uncomfortable trying to recall, but alas, to no effect. He only recalled the taunting following, the physical aggression, and the inability to move when he drew too close.

“His presence…” Tweek began. He instinctively took a deep, shaky breath, allowing his chest to even out. “He runs after me like I am prey.” The blonde shudders, finally choking a sob out.

Craig pulls Tweek to sit up, crushing his head in between his arms and chest. Tweek mumbles, uncomfortable at the suffocating feeling at first, but Craig's reverberating voice throughout his body quiets the blonde. His hands fall to his lap, fidgeting.

“It’s only a dream,” Craig hums, “He can’t get to you from this far.”

“If he can?” Tweek muffles. 

The thief is silent. The blonde felt his worries confirmed. His shoulders droop, and his head rests against the attempted comforting headlock.

Craig guides Tweek's head up to face him. It’s minimal; the blonde’s head continues to rest against the thief’s. A hand runs through the side of his face, intertwining with the frazzled strands. Craig is admittedly hesitant to make eye contact with Tweek.

“Remember what I told you back at the Elven Kingdom?” It was a rhetorical question. “You can do more—you did and have this entire time.” Craig’s lips curled into a knowing smile. He looked proud. “You’ve been taunted and manipulated by royal assholes, and look—we’re still together. I’m still alive, and so are you.”

The blonde looked down at the old, stained blood seeping from the thief’s cloak. Craig was a resilient survivor, someone who had learned to fend for himself. Tweek, on the other hand, felt he couldn’t say the same, especially considering the assistance Craig had provided him throughout their time together. Even when he had been stranded alone all those years ago, he hadn’t truly been alone.

“How have you been alone for so long?” Tweek’s gaze returned to Craig. “I can’t imagine being without you…” The statement was released too soon, causing Tweek to blush, his eyes wide, and he stuttered like a fool. He wanted to push away, but the thief’s grasp was persistent.

Craig had a similar, quieter reaction. He was speechless. After a moment of awkward silence that was too close for comfort, the thief cleared his throat.

“It’s been my whole life,” Craig said, occupied with the end of Tweek’s hair on his neck. “You’re basically a prince—I know you say you’re not, but you are to Kupa’s standards—and as a prince whose first year out of your tribe has consisted of living a life with a guy like me, I think you should start giving yourself some credit.”

Tweek still felt unconvinced.

“You said it’s been hard,” Tweek bit his inner lip, “With me around.”

“Not like that,” Craig was quick to defend. “I like having you around, even if it means running right now.” Craig looked away for a moment. Tweek kept his gaze locked on the thief. He wanted to see the truth in his eyes and was willing to be persuaded, eager to lift the burden off his shoulders. “I haven’t done this much planning for escapades since I was a stupid teenager. I’m a little rusty, and I’ve never had a partner…in crime…” Craig tapered off at the last thought, sighing. “Tweek, we’ll be okay. It probably doesn’t mean much to you anymore, but I want you to keep believing. It’s how it keeps Cartman out of that thick skull of yours.”

The thief affectionately pokes at Tweek’s forehead, causing the blonde to snicker, pulling the hand away. Their hands interlock.

“You really think so?”

“I do.” Craig nodded, ready to stand up.

Craig had a doe-like look to him that Tweek had never seen before. One that revealed a childlike wonder he had hidden deep inside that stoic outlook. It filled something in Tweek that flushed away the insecurity that had been accumulating over time.

The thief pulled Tweek up, with the blonde letting out a yelp. The barbarian felt a firm press on the top of his head, with Craig massaging the back of Tweek’s head and his upper back. 

The blonde nearly whined, but the thief’s action only made him flustered. Craig was quiet, a smug kind of quiet, calling the stallion’s attention to prepare to begin traveling once more.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The fresh autumn weather was finally beginning to settle, just in time for Tweek and Caig to arrive at the northern grasslands of Kupa. It was relatively empty all around, with sporadic villages here and there, but mostly large agricultural farms with one or two families maintaining them. 

Craig loved the area; it was quiet and provided guaranteed tranquility. He didn’t have to worry about being chased here; no royal guard patrolled this far out. Farm owners traversed outward instead to deliver the produce they cultivate year-round.

It was a shame he didn’t get the chance to enjoy it all the time, given that he was running back and forth around the rest of Kupa. In some ways, he was a little thankful for the circumstances to come back to this little abode he found himself in a couple of years ago, maybe for the last time.

Tweek slept soundly on his back as the black stallion jogged across the grassy hills. Craig kept his hands on the lead while also holding onto Tweek’s folded ones over his stomach. 

After falling off once, Craig was extra cautious to ensure the blonde wouldn’t have that again. He also essentially forced Tweek to sleep during the journey, given his confession of minimally sleeping overnight because he was “too drunk.”

Craig rolled his eyes. He was never too drunk. Or maybe he was. He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to concede.

Although Tweek’s slumber state did make the road very boring, he occasionally dozed off, but quickly straightened up as soon as he felt himself relaxing a little too much. 

The sun was still standing tall when they approached the wooden picket fence. The extended land was filled to the brim with crops ready to be pulled out. From a distance, he spotted four feminine figures spread out through the fields.

He slowed the horse down. The change in movement appeared to awaken the barbarian, who Craig felt shift off his back.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he cringed a little, saying it, but he wanted to appear humorous, and maybe get a small smile out of Tweek. “We’re here.”

They traveled right outside the premises of the farm. Craig observed to his side that their presence raised the attention of one of the girls, which then resulted in a chain effect of each one calling to the other and pointing.

“Who are they?” Tweek’s groggy voice could be heard against Craig’s ear.

“They live here.”

One of the girls' voices could be heard from a distance, and two of them were running toward them. They wore simple garments, ones dirtied up from working in the fields. They sported leather gloves, with their lengthy hair braided, a tail on each shoulder.

“Mister Mercenary!” A dark-haired girl cheered excitedly. Craig dismounted the horse to greet them at the fence. Tweek stayed on the horse, looking clearly apprehensive. “We thought we’d never see you again.” 

Every single time Craig visited, the girls would greet him with, "Mister Mercenary." That’s how their parents referred to him. The thief never mentioned his real name or his alias, choosing to keep it a secret in case word of his activities traveled north, which was unlikely. Nevertheless, the family was always hospitable, knowing the importance of keeping their business private in case anyone came looking for him. Craig was a loyal customer, often buying produce from them.

The girls spent their days working in the fields, while their parents traveled to the villages to sell goods and conduct business. They were the ones who greeted Craig, delivered goods to him, and kept him company when he chose to linger. The family understood the importance of not prying into the woods to find his modest home.

“Hi, Jenny. Your parents around?” Craig leaned into the wooden fence. The girls stood next to one another on the other side. 

“Nope,” Jenny responded. Her light blue overalls weren’t so blue anymore because of the groundwork. She eyed the company behind him, but either chose not to ask about it immediately, or the gears were still turning for her. “They left for the village in the morning.”

The thief nodded, turning his attention to the other two girls who hadn’t joined their older sisters. A curly-headed blond and another dark-haired, look-alike to Jenny. They worked yards away from each other, picking at the vegetation and occasionally turning to the large woven basket next to them. Even without asking, Lola, the oldest, answered his unspoken question.

“Annie’s in trouble for sneaking to the village last week,” Lola explained. She leaned toward Craig, now whispering. “She has a musician sweetheart in town.”

Craig snickered, and Jenny and Lola followed suit. 

Annie was the youngest of them, very naive, very willing to jump at the first opportunity to go to the village. She liked asking Craig what he’s seen in his travels, sometimes requesting one or two trinkets that she heard of in passing when she was allowed to go to the village, under the explicit watch of her parents.

“And Esther missed you," Jenny rolled her eyes in a teasing manner. "She’s just shy to say hi now.”  She yelled out for her sister, who tried to cover her face in embarrassment. She adjusted her headscarf, facing away to focus on the woven basket next to her.

The return of a masculine voice from behind him called his attention. Tweek remained mounted on the horse; he had dragged himself to where Craig usually sat. He was pretty shaken up, which made Craig laugh.

“They’re harmless, don’t worry,” Craig reassured Tweek, patting his hand. “Just very curious.”

Tweek looked past Craig out to presumably the girls who were talking amongst themselves now. The barbarian blinked a few times before nodding in understanding. Craig glanced back to see Jenny walking away, leaving Lola standing there, observing the pair.

“We’re getting you a basket,” Lola gestured to Jenny, who collected Esther to run toward the direction of their barn. “Who’s he?”

“No one.” Craig was quick to shoot down introductions. Perhaps he should have briefed Tweek before arriving so quickly. Lola thinned her lips and nodded. 

The thief pulled the horse’s lead to guide them to the open gate further ahead, the young girl following them from the other side. The pasture transitioned into paved dirt, the path divided two grand fields, and one of the entrances to the girls’ farm.

While they waited, Lola kept them company. She adjusted her forest green fabrics. Tweek looked forward to the rest of the place, taking in the scenery. Lola approached him and the horse, petting the horse on its neck. She pecked at the barbarian’s thigh, the first time Tweek flinched and even jolted to face the girl, but then looked away just as quickly.

“If I give you the basket for free, will you let him talk to us?” Lola asked boldly, and Craig furrowed his brows.

“I’m not preventing him from anything,” Craig scoffed. “If he doesn’t want to talk to you, that’s not my doing.” He glanced at Tweek, who seemed to pretend the conversation wasn’t happening.

Lola hummed, trying again. “What happened there?” She pointed at Craig’s bloodied layers. He thought he was pulling it back sufficiently enough to not be seen, but when he looked to see, the dried dark brown smudge was evident.

“Accident.” Craig shrugged. Tweek was a little more unnerved.

His wound was feeling better. He could barely feel it at this, actually. Scott’s mending skills were impressive, and maybe Craig should’ve been a little more thankful for that.

Lola’s sisters came by soon enough, Annie and Esther holding a large, woven cylinder basket covered by cloth on the top. Jenny followed behind. The three spoke sharply amongst each other, mainly in hushed whispers, but clearly their attention was on the trio waiting for them at the gate. 

Annie and Esther greeted Craig in unison, but Annie was much more interested in the mysterious blond idling behind. Before the young blonde could ask or say anything, Jenny smacked her arm. 

Lola turned to the two youngest.

“Lookout.”

“What?! Why do we have to be lookout?” Annie whined. Esther shrugged, giving a small farewell to Craig before walking back to her station. “I want to talk to the boy too!”

“You know why you have to stay,” Lola rolled her eyes. “If you hadn’t gone off with your suitor…” Annie felt attacked, huffing before running back to the field. Craig watched as the young girl complained to her sister. 

Lola and Jenny offered to walk to the edge of the woods with the basket. Craig led the horse while Tweek stayed mounted. 

As Lola and Jenny continued to pester Craig about where he had been for the last six months, Tweek remained silent. This behavior wasn’t unusual for him, but given that the thief had already assured them there was no danger around, it did strike Craig as odd. The girls seemed to be immaturely seizing the opportunity to find something exciting to discuss in their otherwise mundane lives. Tweek, on the other hand, resorted to a reclusive nature.

“By the way, I have a medicine man coming around soon,” Craig warned, “You’ll know him when you see him.” The girls’ parents were the ones who introduced Craig to the supposed ‘Witch Doctor’ in the first place.

“Is he sick?” Jenny asked, gesturing to Tweek.

Craig looked over to the blonde, who had a tired look on his face. The thief pressed his lips. “Yep.”

By the time they arrived at the beginning of an accumulation of trees, Craig pulled from his pouch several marks to pay the girls. He offered a handful to Lola first, who was more than reluctant to take it.

“Just one question, please.” She furrowed her brows, looking expectantly at the thief. Craig’s shoulders slouched in disappointment. Already knowing what the answer was, the girl was quick to defend herself. “We won’t say anything at all!”

Jenny nodded quickly in agreement.

“You’ve asked me plenty already,” Craig sighed, shaking the hand filled with marks. “Take them already, and don’t bring up Tweek to your mom and pops.”

Jenny and Lola gasped simultaneously, and before Craig could catch up, he mentally face slapped himself.

“So, he isn’t ‘no one,’” Lola raised a brow. She turned to Tweek, who was attentive to the conversation. Craig sighed. There was no point in denying anything now. She raised her hand, accepting the currency.

“Yeah, whatever,” Craig grabbed another handful and dropped it onto Jenny’s hand this time. “Share that with your sisters.” They both nodded.

“You’ll have to come back if you want meat.”

“I was planning to anyway. We’ll be here for a couple of days.”

They parted ways; the sisters returned excitedly to their farm, while Craig asked Tweek to hold onto the basket while he guided the horse once more. They didn’t walk for very long when they came across a small cabin.

The wood was green, and a brown rectangular door featuring a heart mark was set in the middle. With a knife and sheer brute force, he pushed the door open, revealing a dusty, small residence. Inside, it was dark, filled with shelves covered in weapons and trinkets that Craig had collected over the years. Boxes of spare garments were nailed shut, and a cot in the corner folded in on itself. There was also a hearth with a dirty cauldron and other small pans.

Craig found the few lamps lying around the place and lit them up. Tweek walked in with the basket in hand, placing it next to the hearth.

“This is home?” Tweek observed the place, slightly grimacing at how abandoned it felt.

“Something like that.”

“It’s dirty.” He didn’t save the honesty, and the retort felt venomous. Craig chuckled and shrugged in agreement. It was half a year since he’d been around; he didn’t expect everything to remain pristine. He also didn’t have the magical property to huff away all the dust as a certain Elf King did.

They spent the afternoon organizing, rearranging, dusting off, and clearing the odor of the place being locked for months on end. Craig was surprisingly sweating, removing his cloak and dropping onto the cot, as well as removing his gloves. Tweek followed suit by leaving his own cloak.

The blonde was relatively quiet. He asked here and there about a certain artifact or weapon Craig stored, but his questions tapered off.  Craig didn’t like that Tweek was so quiet.

Tweek walked outside to feed the horse, mumbling while petting its neck. Craig observed him from behind. His marks faded away, and the bare lines proved they had any presence at all.

He approached the barbarian, sneaking up from behind and wrapping his arms around the blonde, promptly scaring him.

“What are you doing?” Tweek asked flatly. 

Craig leaned in, sniffing his hair. It was a guilty pleasure. And the musk smelled exactly like the barbarian. Craig couldn’t pinpoint it, but something inside him just told him it was true, so he chose to believe so.

“Can’t I hug you?” Craig murmured into his hair.

“What’s gotten into you?” Tweek complained as he turned to face the thief, his hands attempting to push him away. Those blonde brows were reappearing in the barbarian’s face; his blue eyes returned to that youthful look to him. “Gah—you reek.”

“Then let’s go bathe,” Craig’s arms remained around Tweek’s torso, keeping him close. “There’s a river nearby.”

There was a running river west of the woods, conveniently covered and protected by the hills and trees that extended. It also had a beautiful view of the darkening sky, the sun settling just below the top of the hill.

Craig peeled his upper garments first. He looked down at his newly developing scar, fingers ghosting over it. The stitches were still there, but he’d ripped the bandage off long ago. The thief felt eyes on him, and when he glanced up, Tweek stood a few feet away, staring at Craig as he inspected his wound. 

“Do you want to touch it?” Craig asked. Tweek immediately jolted in discomfort, looking away. The thief approached Tweek, grabbing him by the hand. “Just drag your fingers for a second.”

“What?! No!” Tweek tried to pull away, the pair engaging in an act of tug of war. Craig continued insisting until the blonde gathered the courage to push Craig away with a cry. “Stop!”

Craig relented. Only their shuffling and the breeze occupied the sound between them. The thief looked down, pulling at his pants. He thought what he was doing was harmless. It was just a healing wound, just like all the scars in his body previously were. Except this one was made by Tweek. 

In some twisted part of his mind, he found the cause of the wound being inflicted by the blonde to be sort of attractive. He’d never had a partner physically harm him to leave a mark; it only made Tweek that much more special to him. He quickly moved past the idea that it was done under very demented circumstances, but if Craig thought about it too much, it would depress him.

He broke out of his thoughts upon hearing the splashing water. Tweek’s garments were abandoned on the edge, and the blonde himself dove straight in, returning to the surface just as quickly. His blonde hair was significantly longer, Craig realized. He had to push it back to avoid it getting in his eyes. The barbarian scrubbed at his face pretty aggressively with his hands. The water level stopped right at his hips. The thief couldn’t help but stare.

He pulled down his own garments, keeping his eyes on the barbarian, who eventually caught whiff of the bumbling thief. Tweek gave him a puzzled look as Craig approached him. The water was ice cold, making Craig hiss.

“Holy fuck, why didn’t you say anything about the water?” He couldn’t bring himself to dip in, feeling a shiver creep up his spine. 

Tweek shrugged, further digging his digits into his cheek, rubbing away the black paste. Craig stood in front of him, watching as the blonde’s skin reddened. 

Craig eventually found the courage to submerge his whole body into the water. The goosebumps in his arms warned him not to. The quiver in his abdomen tried to fight off the actions. He closed his eyes and felt the cold rush to his face, his hair hovering in the water.

He could hear the running water, the subtle movement in front of him. Being submerged in water was a lot like being in the middle of a still night. His ears drowned out in static, bare noise; one could comfortably breathe in the moment. Craig’s hands swished in the water, feeling the pull. When he surfaced for air, Tweek was now further away, gazing into the distant hills. The sun had disappeared. But Craig’s sun faced away from him.

“Why were you so quiet earlier?” Craig crouched at neck level, allowing the current to guide him toward the blonde. “Do girls make you nervous?”

Tweek scowled, shaking his head. He mimicked Craig’s movement, crouching down himself so the water covered most of his body.

“You’re an idiot.” Tweek’s insult was empty.

“So, yes?” Craig snickered. “They’re young. They remind me of you, y’know?”

Tweek did not appreciate the comparison. Craig felt a sharp smack across his face, which pulled his attention away from the blonde. He rubbed his cheek as he turned back to see a reddened barbarian. 

“I’m no girl!” Tweek exclaimed, splashing water in Craig’s direction, drenching the thief’s already flushed face. 

Craig groaned and tried to take cover, but with Tweek so close, his efforts were futile. “I didn’t mean it like that!” Craig shot back, mirroring Tweek’s actions.

“Then how did you?” Tweek grabbed Craig’s arm, keeping his hands away from the stream. He had a squint to his eyes, an interrogative look. 

“They’re nosy, they ask too many questions, can’t seem to take no for an answer,” Craig emphasized each point more than the previous, raising his brows and gesturing toward the blonde. “Remind you of someone?”

Tweek’s bluff falls apart. He wanted to seem upset. He wanted to be angry. He got weirdly defensive, and Craig still didn’t understand it. The blonde awkwardly removed his hands from Craig’s forearms, dipping them into the water.

“Am I… childish?”

Tweek looked down at Craig’s chest. Craig tried to pick up his gaze by leaning his head down a bit to catch the blonde’s blue eyes. A frown grew on Tweek’s face.

“A little,” Craig answered honestly. “Who cares, though?”

“You don’t?”

Craig shook his head, pouting his lips as if to say, "Of course not." He really didn't; he had sort of accepted Tweek's more youthful attitude. He had dealt with much worse in the past. Besides, Tweek made it seem as though his immature side was much more prevalent than it actually was. At this moment, it wasn’t the best line of defense, but it seemed Tweek was just going through some internal turbulence.

“You gotta stop worrying about that stuff,” Craig flickered some water toward Tweek. “But it still doesn’t answer my question.” He raised his brow in amusement.

Tweek jolted away from the droplets, his lips thinning as he let out a strangled complaint. He finally looked at Craig’s face, but with a little shame in his look.

“They circle you,” Tweek muttered, “And you just let them.”

Craig had an epiphany—one that made him want to burst out laughing, but he held it back, realizing it would be mean. However, this realization soon became too real.

Tweek sought exclusivity. Craig wondered if a simple admission would be a disservice to Tweek. He felt it essential to respect Tweek's pride. Maybe he sought something more formal? At the same time, he didn't want to complicate things overly, yet it seemed that he was doing just that at this moment.

Craig blinked a couple of times. “I don’t like them…,” He said flatly, his eyes wide. He stammered as he gathered his bearings. “…At all.”

Tweek nearly beamed, if Craig had to be honest. “It seemed so.” Tweek had a serene tone. A complete 180. “It’s dark," He glanced around. "We should return.”

“Yeah…” Craig watched as Tweek attempted to remove the remaining scabs of paste from his skin.

What the hell just happened? 

One second, Tweek is in a dump, seeking reassurance; now Craig is left dumbfounded, wondering how one point led to the next, and Tweek is simply acting like this childish act didn’t just leave them with an unaddressed conversation.

Unless that was it? Did he just want attention? That bastard. Maybe Tweek wasn’t as naive as he thought. But it still left him wondering.

Craig returned to the farm, this time greeted by the owners of the land. He exchanged polite words and goods as they provided him with poultry and fresh water to take back to the cabin. 

It had been six days now, and there was still no sign of Tolkien. While this wasn't unusual—given the distance from one side of Kupa to the other—Craig had grown accustomed to this domestic routine. 

He often helped the family with chores here and there, hoping to minimize his expenses on the food he was collecting. However, with two people now staying at the cabin, Craig quickly realized he needed to take action to ensure Tweek’s presence remained hidden, especially considering the risk posed by the group of sisters discovering them.

When their parents weren’t around, one of the four sisters would frequently interrogate him about the barbarian. Was he feeling any better? Was he dying? What did his marks mean? Was it war paint? Was he always so stoic? Why didn’t he come around to say hello? And was he Craig's sweetheart?

“Goddammit, go away,” Craig carried a basket of clean garments away from the washroom. The curly blonde followed him right behind. “Don’t you have chores to do?”

“Are you two eloping?!” She exclaimed, jumping up and down. “Ah… I wish to do so too.”

Craig cringed, turning around to quickly turn her down. He set the basket down between them.

“You shouldn’t run away just to marry,” he advised sincerely. From what he’d been hearing the last couple of days, he prayed to whatever god was listening that Annie’s infatuation would die down soon enough. He was definitely not the one. “And I’m not getting married either. I’m too old for that.”

Annie huffed, crossing her arms. “But he promised me a cottage!”

“He’s lying.”

He picked up his basket once more and made his way out of the farm, heading back to his "sweetheart." More accurately, his jealous sweetheart.

Tweek had made his distaste for the girls clear early on. He thought they were too rowdy, easily attaching themselves to Craig whenever he stopped by. It was a mystery how Tweek knew about their constant behavior around him. The barbarian had observed just a day's worth of interaction and had already formed a negative opinion, focusing on anything but "those farm girls."

His resentment was unexpected but blunt. When Craig announced he would be leaving early in the morning to help out where he could, Tweek grimaced every time. Initially, he tried to dissuade Craig from going by physically pulling him back or suggesting they take a walk to the hills. The thief was tempted; he had to admit; he often wanted to let himself be pulled in further to see what bold moves Tweek had in mind. However, he also had a fine to pay.

The blonde spent most of his time outside, interacting with the stallion, aiming weapons at the tree trunks, or creating sculptures out of wood. Craig would often find him sitting in front of the makeshift campfire they had in front of the cabin, scraping away at a piece of wood using a dagger Craig kept stored.

The blonde was markless. He washed away all the black paste, and with none of his herbs to recreate them, he was left bare. Although the climate was beginning to turn to the chillier side, Tweek was insistent on remaining shirtless. It didn’t bother Craig entirely; it was less work for his imagination, but it did concern him just a tad if Tweek was spending so much time outside.

He also sported his hair in a miniature low bun. It still held that frazzled look to it, except somewhat tamed back. He looked like a domesticated husband waiting for his lover to return from a long day’s work.

Craig paused, nearly dropping the basket in his hand. Annie was getting to him. Maybe he should take a day away from them.

“I’m back,” Craig announced. 

Tweek sat criss-crossed on the pasty green grass, focused on his work in progress. He gave the thief a vague gesture of greeting.

The thief approached the blonde, bending down to observe the way Tweek worked. His thumb brushed away the chipped-off wood, and the dagger moved meticulously under the pieces, the soft sound of the friction between the two objects.

He gave Tweek a quick peck on his temple. Tweek hummed happily, making Craig smile.

Their meals were stagnant: soups with cooked meat. Craig would stir the food in the cauldron, tasting it in between stirs. Tweek occasionally hovered and observed, and at times would volunteer to squeeze the juice out of the fruits to concoct a drink that wasn’t just water. The thief had to admit this was a bit too domestic. He hummed softly, daydreaming about the days to come.

Craig curled into Tweek at night. His arms would be draped around the blonde’s cold torso in an attempt to warm him up. The barbarian complained in the morning that Craig would hog his space, but the thief shrugged, taking the scolding and repeating the routine the next evening. He leaned into the crook of Tweek’s neck, inhaling the blonde’s scent profusely. His leg draped over Tweek’s own. Tweek would succumb to the tangling of their limbs; Craig would feel a cool arm draped over his bare shoulder, reaching for his back, brushing it back and forth as if cooing Craig to sleep.

They fell into a deep slumber in each other’s arms. And Craig wouldn’t have it any other way. He knew Tweek enjoyed it if he allowed it every night, but the little stubborn side of him seemed reluctant to admit it. It was different from their slumbers out in the open. There was no feeling involved, or at least that’s what Craig told himself. That was for survival. He certainly felt different being in Tweek’s arms now. A swirling feeling settled in his stomach; his chest puffed up to be closer. He felt like a baby being cradled.

“Craig.” Tweek’s voice interrupted the mild snooze Craig was under, alerting him. He sounded unsure if he should be grabbing the thief’s attention at all.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned his chin on Tweek’s shoulder. The blonde moved his head to look upward; he was presumably looking down at Craig previously.

“I don’t want to upset you,” he frowned.

Craig’s brow furrowed, propping himself up by his elbow to get a better look at Tweek. His other arm was lying lax over the blonde’s abdomen. “Just say it.”

“Do you wish to court?” It came out hurriedly. Tweek tangled his fingers with the strands of hair sticking out on the pillow, pulling at it. 

Craig was stuck staring at Tweek’s terrified expression. He felt their hearts thumping faster against each other. 

“Isn’t courting more… formal?” Was all Craig could really conjure up. He felt the ball of saliva go down his throat pretty harshly. 

The blonde didn’t stop his fidgeting. A strangled groan bubbled in his throat. He was uncomfortable. Craig pulled Tweek’s hand from his hair.

“Courting among barbarians can be,” Tweek hummed, deciding on the word to use, “intense.” 

Craig pursed his lips. He didn’t really want to know what intense entailed. Instead, he brought his own hand closer to Tweek’s face, threading his fingers through the mistreated hair, caressing the side of his cheek. 

The blonde’s eyes glanced from the thief’s eyes to his lips. Craig’s elbow was getting tired, so he lay back down as he had previously, draping one side of his body over Tweek’s. He kept his fingers slowly moving across Tweek’s cheek, feeling the warmth, the soft fuzz that couldn’t quite grow into proper facial hair. Craig, on the other hand, could feel his own growing beard brush against Tweek’s shoulder.

“Courting is for people like you and Kenny,” Craig whispered into Tweek’s neck, “Not me.”

“Because you steal?” Tweek curled a hand under Craig, settling it on his back. 

Craig hummed in affirmation. 

It wasn’t entirely why he thought courting wasn’t suitable for him. He also had never pursued someone to this extent. His relationships were fleeting, nonexistent; there was nothing to be attached to. Now, Tweek has been making his own foreboding advances in his own unique way. Yet, Craig still felt that any answer he would give the blonde was insufficient. Craig was being shuffled in the makeshift cot, Tweek moving onto his side, facing the thief. In the dark, the blonde’s features were barely visible, but Craig could still feel his piercing eyes on him. The barbarian dragged his right hand to the thief’s neck, his thumb just barely caressing his jaw.

“I want you,” Tweek said bluntly.

It’s not that Craig didn’t know that, but the sentiment being verbalized did plenty to the thief’s psyche. He’s heard many passing phrases muttered by his partners in the past, none so raw, so genuine as Tweek’s delivery. The thief wanted to devour him, squeeze the affection out of him until he ran dry. His stiffness didn’t seem to run coolly with Tweek, as the blonde stopped moving his thumb on Craig’s skin, awakening the thief to the moment once more.

Instead of words, he used his lips to crash into Tweek’s own. He pulled the blonde closer to his own shirtless body, his hands promptly pressing into his skin—his arms, his back, his waist. It was all very familiar territory.

Tweek melted into his embrace, humming happily, giving Craig goosebumps. He swallowed down the accumulating saliva in his mouth. The thief was so nervous, like this was his first time all over again. He didn’t want to spoil Tweek’s mood, his eagerness, his willingness to be wordlessly sucked in. At which point, Craig felt a little guilty about allowing his lust to overpower his cool-headedness, so he detached himself.

“Fuck,” he said breathlessly, licking his lips and going in for a peck on Tweek’s parted lips. “You’re beautiful like this.” 

Even in the dark, he could see Tweek’s wide smile. It made his affection all the more worth it. Craig kissed his teeth, with Tweek capturing his lips once more. Feeling daring, the thief’s hand slithered into Tweek’s pants, his fingers pushing them away to grasp at the blonde’s ass. One squeeze pulled a hitched gasp out of him. Craig was more than incentivized to continue. His actions weren’t conscious; they were automatic. He grew more passionate, hips stuttering to pull some friction between their bodies.

The blonde moaned, pulling away from their kiss and mimicking Craig’s movement. His movement was less aggressive than Craig's, who seemed much more impatient to push to a more sensual pursuit. His eagerness was not ignored as Tweek pulled himself onto Craig, heaving into Craig’s ear. It was music, an entrancing sound. The blonde’s fingers found their way to Craig’s hair, gingerly tugging at it. Craig couldn’t help but buck his hips into Tweek, grasping onto Tweek’s exposed hips. 

“Bite me,” Craig nearly choked. It was a knee-jerk request that even left Tweek momentarily stumbling. He repeated his ask with less confidence, hoping to convey his desperation.

Teeth punctured into Craig’s shoulder, making him cry out, pushing further into Tweek’s crotch. A muffled moan in his ear, paired with the overwhelming pain, only drove Craig. A mixture of lips and tongue traded off as Craig helplessly bucked, his breathy groans filling the room. Craig's excitement preceded his sanity; he felt himself jerk into Tweek one final time, letting out an involuntarily prolonged moan. He squeezed Tweek’s sides as he lolls his head back further into the pillow.

“Craig?” Tweek’s fingers left Craig’s head as he pushed himself upward to get a better look at the dazed thief.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out, his face growing hot. His pants had a growing wet spot spilling through as the seconds passed.

The thief attempted to regain his controlled consciousness out of embarrassment. It was a little hard when the barbarian lay on top of him, looking straight at him, eyes wide.

But the blonde didn’t say anything, tenderly pressing his lips onto Craig’s own. His hands cradled Craig’s face as he bit the thief’s bottom lip. He continued the friction between them, Craig whining at every bump on his sensitive groin. He felt Tweek grin against his lips. After a couple more pushes on Tweek’s end, the action was unbearable for Craig, and he tugged at Tweek’s arm.

“Ah—stop, it hurts.” And it was sticky. Craig wanted out of the pants.

Tweek’s brows etched together, sitting up almost immediately. “Where does it hurt?” His worried tone was so endearing to Craig; his post-bliss had him reacting giggly.

“My dick.” 

The monotone didn’t convey to Tweek that Craig was being sarcastic. The blonde lifted himself off the thief to tug Craig’s pants down. His shoulder had a dry patch of saliva, accompanied by a dull ache. Craig lifted his hips, his flaccid cock being exposed along with the leftover secretion. 

Tweek’s curiosity got the best of him, his fingers hovering right over Craig’s crotch. They dragged around, picking up some of the thief’s cum as he intently watched, Craig’s ears experiencing overwhelming static and overheating. The tips of Tweek’s fingers entangle with Craig’s trail, massaging the coarse hair.

Tweek’s pants hung loosely on his hips, with pubic hair peeking over the waistband. Craig reached out with his left hand, brushing against his hip bone.

“You like pain?” Tweek whispered, leaning into Craig’s ear where he had previously slobbered over. A flick of the tongue, a nibble traveling right to his throat, a brief brush of the thumb at the healing wound the barbarian had been so hesitant to graze his hand over just days prior.

The thief’s face flushes, knitting his brows together. He just wanted to keep hearing Tweek’s voice, the way his lips popped right up against him, the way his hand was tentatively kneading against his skin. Craig closed his eyes, raising his head, humming in gratification. He muttered words to egg Tweek on, who was more than content. The draw of his tongue lowered, licking at his chest hair. A pinch at Craig’s nipple made him yelp in embarrassment. Tweek was too engrossed to really care as he lowered down to the thief’s groin, cleaning the cum off him. Craig nearly revolted.

“What are you doing?” He sounded more alarmed than he intended. Tweek stopped moving, his breathing subtly hitting Craig’s skin. He retracted his tongue. Hearing the mix of saliva and cum go down Tweek’s throat made Craig shudder, goosebumps crawling on his arms.

“It’s not enjoyable?” 

“I’m still, y’know, sensitive,” Craig muttered, his cheeks feeling warm.

Tweek simply hummed, wordless. He crawled back to Craig's side, lying on his side, facing the thief. Almost like settling for the vague explanation, but not quite understanding. Craig felt a little bad. Maybe this wasn’t going as Tweek imagined.

Upon the brush of the blonde’s leg, Craig realized he was still in pants. The thief was quick to change that, finishing the job and pulling them down. His hands brushed slowly up Tweek’s leg, a quiver or two showing Tweek’s intrigue. A brush over his groin. A twitch. He turned Tweek on his stomach, the blonde easily compliant. 

Tweek had developed more muscle over the past couple of months, as Craig noticed. The hair on his back was thin and hardly noticeable, while his moles were prominent enough to catch the pads of the thief's fingers. Craig traced them with his lips, making contact with the softness of Tweek's waist and his supple hips. His hand curved over Tweek’s ass, giving it a gentle smack on one side while playfully nibbling the other.

The barbarian drew in air between his gritted teeth. The thief reveled in Tweek’s satisfied noises. They were muffled, shy, knowing it was a revelatory sensation for the blonde that made it better.

Craig stuck his tongue out, taking in Tweek’s musk, letting out a groan from deep within. He panted against Tweek’s hole. The blonde, whimpering into the pillow, his hand coming around to tug at the thief’s hair, pulling him up further. Craig could be suffocated, not that he minded. He snaked a hand under Tweek’s stomach, the tip of his erect penis thumping against his finger as the blonde’s hips twitched and squirmed. Craig rubbed at it, further stimulating Tweek until the blonde couldn’t take it anymore.

Tweek wailed as his body stiffened, while Craig felt his hand squeezed under the barbarian’s weight. Using his free hand, Craig pushed himself up, pinning Tweek beneath him in return, and nibbled at his ear. The blonde groaned, lying limply under the thief.

“Are we getting married?” Craig murmured, dazed. He was surprised he hadn’t creamed the sheets from eating Tweek out; he felt himself close to doing so, though.

Tweek let out a confused moan, followed by a grunt as he pushed Craig off his back. Craig returned to his previous spot, and Tweek lay on his side, facing away from him. 

Craig wrapped his arms around Tweek. He felt the drying load right under Tweek’s belly button. But Tweek pulled his hand away towards his chest. The blonde’s fingers slowly grazed Craig’s own as his breathing slowed into something more subtle.

They remained still against each other, with Craig finding his place by Tweek’s neck. His eyes threatened to close as their breaths synchronized.

In the morning, Tweek sat nude in front of the cabin’s desk, adjacent to the small open window. Legs tucked in close, his back leaning forward, and his hands fiddling to focus on the content on top of the desk. Craig’s cloak was draped loosely over his shoulders, barely providing any coverage or warmth. The early light slipped inside in beams, some crossing with the blonde’s hair. It lit up like a star.

He was assembling custom jewelry with the knick-knacks Craig had stored. Particularly rings and earrings. The barbarian plucked the gemstones out of some of the undesired accessories using pliers and the tiniest knife he could find. He stuck his tongue out, his brows knit together in a mixture of frustration and focus.

Craig casually observed as he got dressed for the day to return to the farm once more. If he could, he would spend all day ogling over the barbarian in his creative element. Unfortunately, he still had duties while they waited. He kissed Tweek farewell, with the blonde being much less averse to the thief’s departure. His hand lingered over Craig’s jaw, a small smile pulling at his lips during this brief smooch. It was infectious; the thief couldn’t help but return the gesture.

Today, he took the black stallion with him to the farm to groom him. The thief greeted early mornings to the owners as they took their leave for the town, along with Annie, who was more than eager to return. She wore different garments from her usual ones. An ironed-out sky blue dress with a white apron cinched around her waist. She waved at Craig excitedly. The thief, all knowing of why she was so excited, gave her an amused smile and nod as he pulled his horse along.

Her older sisters were dispersed throughout the farm. Lola recollected the batch of eggs from the chicken coop, while Esther and Jenny cleaned out feeders and waterers to replenish them for the animals.

Craig headed inside the barn, where he brushed out the horse’s hair, clipped its hooves, and gave it a hearty meal for once. It took up most of his morning, holed up in the barn, sweating under his knitted cap.

“Good morning, Mister.” Jenny’s voice scared Craig, physically jolting. He turned to see the girl in blue overalls carrying a linen sack.

“Hey,” he nodded her way, patting his horse on the back before looking for his leash.

“How’s Tweek?” A thud to the ground.

“Good.” He focused on wrapping the lead loosely around the stallion’s neck. His shoulders were sore, he noticed.

“Do you think he’d be willing to come by?” The door to the barn creaked open behind him.

His neck nearly cracked at the sudden turn he took. Craig guided the horse out. He thought about it as he walked out, with the very obvious stare of the girl burning into the side of his face as he walked past her. Likely not, is the answer he knew he shouldn’t give. It’d lead to more questions. And possibly some visible disappointment.

“I don’t know.” Craig shrugged, adjusting his knitted cap. “For what?”

He stopped at a nearby post, tying the end of the rope to it. Jenny was right by his side, leaning against the post next to him. She mocked his shrug, except with a smug grin.

“I just think it’s not very good for him to be holed up in your cabin,” she put on a fictitious sympathetic tone with her hand on her chest. Craig rolled his eyes, ready to walk over. Realizing she was losing the thief’s attention, her tone returned to normal. “It’s been two weeks! I’m forgetting his face!”

“That’s the point,” Craig began walking away toward a taller, angular building with wooden sails further into the farm. He walked past the open pastureland. The family always did a fascinating job keeping their fields healthy enough to last the winter and still be fertile enough for spring. “You’re supposed to forget us, eventually.”

The tone was a bit more woeful than Craig meant. He could hear the small foot padding behind him, but he didn’t bother glancing to see her reaction. She caught up to him.

“Just a brief lunch together,” Jenny leaned forward to get the thief’s attention. “Lola is baking an apple pie for us.”

He did like sweets.

They approached the mill, and Craig opened the wooden door, allowing Jenny to enter first. But she didn’t walk in. She stood right in front of Craig, crossing her arms, and raised a brow. The thief huffed.

“I don’t know,” he emphasized, then sighed. “I can walk back to ask.” Her face lit up.

“It’s just a thank you for your services,” she winked as she walked inside. Craig was unaffected.

There were two floors, below a donkey tied to a thick metal bar with a horizontal cog, along with bags of collected grains against the stone wall. A small flight of stairs led to a large open bowl. He assisted her in bringing the bags to her, raising them over his head while Jenny bent down to pull them to the upstairs floor.

He involuntarily groaned as he stretched his shoulders to lift the bags. There were many, and he was slowly losing his rhythm. The girl snickers as he pushes the last bag, and she continues her work. Craig tried to brush the humble hurt off. He motioned the donkey to do its job and walk in circles until all the grain was poured into the tube.

The sound of the grain ground to thinner, smaller versions of itself was calming like white noise. He watched as it dropped from the tube into a grand wooden basket. He thought about Tweek. Maybe he was still hunched over working on his jewelry. Tweek’s precision, his low margin of error of placement, was the most still he’d ever seen the barbarian be, except when he aimed his bow. Were they for Craig as well? 

He left Jenny to return to the cabin. Tweek was asleep when Craig arrived. With little remorse, Craig awoke him to invite him to the farm. It wasn’t particularly a well-timed ask, since Tweek was quick to reject the notion and curl up further. Craig knew he was only saying no because he was still in a sleep-like state.

“Fine, I guess we’ll just eat pie without you.” Craig began walking out when he heard shuffling behind him. He smirked, looking back and watching the barbarian sit up in curiosity.

Tweek fidgeted much more than usual, his cloak draping over him as if he were trying to hide. The confidence he had displayed back in the cabin evaporated as they approached the farm. It was unsettling to watch as worries gnawed at him from the inside out.

“Are you nervous?” Craig asked bluntly. Tweek’s breath hitched.

“No,” the blonde huffed. “I feel exposed.” True, he no longer wore his bold marks. But it didn't matter much to Craig. To him, Tweek was still the same. Not much had changed in Craig’s eyes.

It was approaching noon, the sun glowering down at them as they walked the wide dirt path leading to the dwelling. Overlapping voices could be heard as they approached closer. They seemed to be arguing, not to Craig’s surprise. 

Tweek glanced at Craig in confusion, the thief shrugging and dismissing the bickering. There was a wooden table right outside with remnants of cloth material. A long bench on each side. Craig brushed the specks of dirt to the side as he took a seat with Tweek across from him. 

The door slammed open.

A frustrated groan from Jenny. Lola followed her out, ready to continue the squabble when she caught sight of their two visitors. She quickly straightened herself up, greeting them haphazardly. 

Tweek gave them a timid wave, and Craig did his usual calm nod of acknowledgement. Tweek’s demeanor was much more restrained than Craig anticipated. He didn’t seem eager, but neither snappy. It was amusing to watch him physically backtrack the peevish impression he had mere days earlier.

Esther shortly joined her two older sisters in preparing a small lunch for the five of them. The group was actually going to walk further up one of the hills behind the dwelling. A picnic-style lunch. Right, Craig should’ve guessed they would take advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Lying out an extended blanket on the ground, the girls placed a woven basket. It was mainly fruits and a loaf of sourdough to exchange between them. Lola carried a wooden circular plate holding a very tasty-looking pie.

Tweek’s eyes immediately pivoted to their dessert.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Apple pie,” Lola smiled. “Would you like some?” Tweek nodded eagerly.

Craig sat criss-crossed beside Tweek. In front of him, Lola was cutting a small piece of the pie to serve Tweek. Jenny and Esther opened the basket, grabbing their own snacks to eat. Craig waited for everyone to pick their treats.

“It’s tasty,” the blonde muttered, some crumbs falling from his mouth. He licked the extra mushy apple off his fingers. The thief smiled unknowingly.

“I’m glad,” Lola huffed, a small laugh. “It’s been a while since we’ve baked anything sweet.”

“You never want to,” Esther corrected, raising a brow at the girl. Lola glared at her in return.

“There’s just never been occasion,” she gritted.

It was surprisingly calm after they settled down, though. Although the sun beamed high, the breeze kept the group cool. Craig mainly zoned out toward the landscape in front of them, while the other four quietly conversed, mainly the three sisters trying to pull Tweek out of his shell.

“What do you do while he helps us here?” Esther asked Tweek, referring to Craig. It still felt somewhat unfair that they hadn’t been able to identify him this long. It was definitely weirder now that he’s been around them for a while.

Tweek’s lips thinned for a moment. “I wait for him to return.” 

The girls almost immediately awed at the response, embarrassing Craig in the process. His brows knit together as he glanced at Tweek, unaffected by the commotion or the weight of his response. He bit into another piece of pie.

“Mister, I’ve never seen you so flustered,” Lola giggled innocently at Craig, who wasn’t sure if he wanted to stick around any longer.

“I’m not,” Craig lied. “It’s hot out here.”

The girls exchanged a look and unanimously laughed out loud, further pushing Craig into a compromising position. Their laughter was infectious enough that Tweek let out a small chuckle as he and Craig made brief eye contact. 

Not him, too. Craig didn’t ask to be targeted like this.

“Annie said when she asked you if you were husbands, you had that exact same face,” Jenny commented in between a breathy laugh, moving to lie down on the grass.

“Did she tell you the part where I said I’m not married?”

“You don’t have to lie,” Lola rolled her eyes. “Mister, I know you like to keep things to yourself. I mean, clearly…” She snorted, her sisters following suit. “But if you two eloped, that’s fine with us.” She shrugged. “We won’t say a word.” The oldest mimicked sealing her lips.

“Eloped?” Tweek’s brows furrowed, looking over at Craig.

“Running away to get married,” he muttered in a rush, then emphasized, “Which we didn’t do.”

Lola chose not to take the answer, settling for whatever belief she had. The same went for Jenny and Esther. They idly conversed with each other about what their duties were for the afternoon before their parents arrived.

Craig shared the last bit of pie with Tweek, feeding a piece in his hand to the blonde. Tweek munched with a credulous look in his eyes. The thief thought about their night together again. He bit the inside of his lip, snaking a hand underneath the cloak, grazing Tweek’s back. The blonde leaned into it with a wide smile.

On their way back, they spotted a carriage riding downward toward the farm. At first, Craig thought it was the owners, slightly alarmed and ready to run like hell back to the cabin. But based on the confused looks of the girls, that didn’t seem to be the case.

A lone man guided a horse carrying the wooden carriage. He wore a mix of red, white, and purple layers. Craig’s eyes widened as he recognized the man approaching.

“Thanks for lunch, girls,” Craig instinctively took Tweek’s hand and pulled him toward the open entrance, where the carriage seemed to be headed. "We gotta get going." He didn’t wait for the girls to respond, but it seemed they were just as curious and rushed to follow them.

Tolkien approached the group, looking around.

“Oh, hi, Tolkien!” Jenny waved from a distance. “Nice seeing you.”

“Hello.” Tolkien smiled as he approached them and greeted them warmly with a hug. “You’re so tall now. Gosh, how long has it been?”

“Years,” Lola exaggerated. “Are you still at the tavern?”

“Yep. Business is booming.” Token knew these girls far longer than even Craig had, the thief presumed. He’s probably watched them grow up if their parents were in close relations with the cleric. 

After brief exchanges, Tolkien brought his attention to his actual customers. Tweek gave him a small wave, and Tolkien almost looked taken aback.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said lightheartedly. He glanced at Craig. “Shall we?”

They left the girls and returned to the cabin. On the way, Tolkien narrated to Craig the chaos Kupa is currently undergoing. It seemed the barbarian’s lack of presence shook up the castle when the Grand King returned home, causing a chain reaction in the rest of the kingdom.

“Surprised it hasn’t traveled up here,” Tolkien sighed. “You guys haven’t had any issues?”

“I took up the farms when we left,” Craig explained. “And we’re pretty isolated here, so no way some greedy mayor would catch whiff.”

“Well, the King is pretty adamant in finding him.”

Craig snickered. In his fucking dreams.