The war is over, and Adrian is returning to the village in which he was born. But the last time his mother saw him, he was living as a woman. Now, with the aid of Bethas' Tea and years of hard fighting, he's a scarred, grizzled man in need of some family acceptance and love—and a place to call home once more.
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Warnings: Non-op transmasculine genitalia, so if that's a dysphoria trigger you may want to avoid this. Adrian's genitalia is referred to as dick and slit. It is mentioned that the possibility of pregnancy is a factor he has to consider. He drinks a kind of herbal tea to create the same masculinizing effects as testosterone.
Part One
The war, was in fact, over in time for the winter solstice. Adrian was grateful for that, but also fearful. He scoffed as he tugged on the reins to draw his horse, Sun, in from his heavy canter. The horse came to a standstill long before the cliff's edge, huffing and snorting from its arduous climb up the mountain path.
Adrian jumped down from his horse, grateful to be out of the saddle after so many hours riding. He looked back along the trail, where Sun's hoofprints were quickly being erased by the snowfall. He left the horse behind and walked to the cliff's edge. He peered over to see the village he'd grown up in covered in a blanket of white, powdery snow. The tiny church where the villagers gathered and sang praises stood tall, its spire undamaged by the war. The heavy fighting hadn't come this far north, and he was grateful.
Though he hadn't gone to war to defend Valley Brook. Joining the army had been a means of escape and an attempt at validating his feelings as a man, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips, turning to vapor in the freezing air. The pouch of herbs the apothecary called Bethas' Tea—after the god of transformation—sat heavy on his belt next to the bag of coin he'd earned in military pay. A thick beard had sprouted on his face since the last time he'd been here, and it terrified him to consider facing his family in this body. Would they even recognize him? Would they gasp in horror once they knew he was their child, come home in another form from the one he'd left them in? Would they take offense at the fact he'd cast aside his birth name for a name he'd chosen himself?
Drinking the tea and transitioning into one's real form was a non-issue amongst the commoners of the South, but the remote, wild North had its own rules, often made up on the fly. He hadn't known about the tea until he'd left home, and his first sip of the bitter stuff had come after a lot of navel-gazing and more than a few near-death experiences on the battlefield. One of the effects was increased strength, and he told himself it would give him a better chance at survival. He knew that for what it was: an excuse to go forward with becoming his true self, but the delusion had served him well until he'd been able to come to terms with it all.
He couldn't say he'd really become stronger, but his will to live had ignited, an empty void filled with the changes in his body and voice. He'd sprouted hair in places he didn't even know were capable of growing it, and his voice was a deep, rich baritone, almost unrecognizable from the high squeak he'd possessed before.
He'd thought about taking the coward's way out. Some did. It was easy to forge a letter with a vague approximation of the King's seal on it, stating that the person he'd been had been killed in combat. In a sense, it was true, but he couldn't stand the idea of his family grieving for him while blood still pumped through his veins. It would devastate his mother to know her only offspring had passed. He couldn't do it.
But even out here, carrier birds had surely delivered the news that the war was over, and he would be expected home. Someone had to run the family farm, and now his dalliance with the military was over, it was time to be a responsible son and take the plough from his mother's hands. There was no place else for him to go. He hadn't been recruited as some officer's squire or a household knight, leaving his options slim unless he wanted to become a mercenary.
He didn't want to sell his ideals away for gold. He'd made enough concessions for one lifetime. He'd seen death with his own eyes, watched boys barely old enough to be considered adults slaughtered like animals, their corpses left to rot in the sun.
Yet this simple act of confessing the truth of who he was scared him more than any battle. Death he could face. Disappointment from people he loved and cherished, on the other hand—that was the most frightening thing he could imagine.
He turned to Sun, who waited patiently despite having started to shiver in the intense cold. The horse needed warm stables and a blanket, and the snow was coming down thick enough that it might block the path down to the village if Adrian didn't hurry. Valley Brook was known for getting cut off in the winter, and while he hoped to delay his homecoming, he had need of a warm bed and a hearty meal for the season. A place to rest his head while he figured out if this small village was still home.
He mounted his horse and began to descend from the peak, taking the mountain path down into the valley itself. The road was treacherous, but Sun was a well-trained, dedicated horse who took all obstacles at a steady pace, despite the cold. He would have to treat her to one of Mother's carrots from the garden once they reached Valley Brook.
He took a deep breath as he entered the village. Children threw snowballs at one another, and they paid the stranger amongst them no mind. They had been mere babes when he'd left, and he wasn't surprised they didn't recognize him. The old stone houses still stood where he'd left them, the village largely unchanged with the passage of time. He spied the cobbler's daughter, now pregnant, laughing with the blacksmith's son, gold wedding rings shining bright on their fingers.
Adrian dismounted, leading his horse to the stables. The village mayor stood at the end stall, and he shot Adrian a penetrating stare. Adrian handed the reins over to the stableboy, flipping him a copper coin for Sun's feed and lodgings. Adrian lowered his head and made for the exit.
"Do I know you, sir?"
Adrian bit his lip, fear clawing at his guts. Here it was—that pre-battle terror, the dark malice called fear that Adrian knew so well. He had no choice but to turn and face the mayor, even though he longed to grab his horse's reins, mount up, and flee. He could still make it through the valley, ride south, start a new life in a village where nobody knew him or who he had once been. It was the coward's way out, and he knew he'd regret it, but it was a way out.
Instead he looked the mayor in the eye and nodded. The mayor's head of hair was more grey than black, now, though he looked like he could still wield the sword at his side if the need arose. His face was pockmarked and scarred in a way it hadn't been the last time Adrian had seen him, and he wondered if the plague had passed through here. A new fear gripped him as he thought of his mother. What if she'd passed while he'd been gone?
"I'm—" Adrian had gone over this in his mind—how to present and describe himself without uttering his discarded name—but it fled him now, the words gone when he needed them the most. The mayor stood, patient as he always had been, waiting for Adrian to spit out his tale. "I'm Catherine Ardente's child."
The mayor's eyes narrowed in confusion, then seemed to spark in recognition. "Either Catherine had a child elsewhere, or you drink that tea that Southerners brew."
"The tea, sir. My name is Adrian now." It felt like a confession, though the mayor's words had remained steadfastly neutral in tone. "Is my mother well?"
At that, the mayor smiled. "Aye, that she is. She'll be glad to see you, son. She's been waiting a long time to hear the war is over."
Adrian managed a wan smile. Son. So the Mayor understood, at least. "My mother, she—do you think she'll—"
The mayor patted him on the arm. "It's best you hear it from her, Adrian, but it's good you've come home. The farm has started to become too much for her to keep up on her own. If it wasn't for Tallis, she might have lost the harvest altogether."
Adrian smiled. Tallis, the fisherman's son. They'd been good friends when they'd been kids. Played together, until puberty dragged them apart. It was considered improper to play with boys once the monthly bleeds began. That had been the start of the loneliest part of Adrian's life, learning the skills to be a wife in daylight and sneaking out past dark to train alone with a practice blade. It had been quite the scandal when he'd set out south to join the army, though his mother had had a look in her eyes that said she'd known all along. He'd pictured that look a thousand times, hoping she'd wear the same expression when she found out about the tea.
The mayor left the stable, and Adrian was left alone with his thoughts. He wandered out to the snow-covered thoroughfare and began to venture towards his mother's house at the edge of the village. People went about their business, ignoring the stranger in their midst as he trudged through town in his dirty chain mail. His plate greaves were scratched and dented, a mismatched set he'd stolen from a corpse, but the extra layer of protection saw to it that he was walking through town, instead of hobbling on a wooden leg.
The town was decorated for the winter festival, and an outpouring of nostalgia overcame Adrian along with a sensation of sorrow—grief, almost. Things would never be the same again. A group of carolers knocked on a door, and the warm light coming from the house seemed like something from a painting. An old lady smiled as the children began to sing, and Adrian fought back tears. He hadn't cried in a long time—thought the tea had rendered him incapable, if he was honest—and yet the tears threatened to spill now. He stood and watched the scene, wishing this moment could last forever.
But he'd stalled long enough. He could barely see his mother's farmhouse in the remains of the dying daylight, but it stood like a shadow out in the fields, looming large over everything. The carolers stopped singing, and suddenly it seemed like the idyll had died. Adrian spun around to see he was alone in the road, the villagers safely at home by the fire now that dusk had turned to darkness.
The farmhouse windows lit up in the distance, as if calling him, and Adrian took his first steps towards home, his heart in his mouth as his boots left footprints in the snow. He'd barely noticed how cold he was, his bodily discomfort drowned out by the sheer terror of facing possible rejection. He started to jog, needing to get this grim task over with now that he'd come to this point in time.
He reached the front door with his heart in his mouth. A wreath hung above the knocker. It was strange to knock on the door of his own home, as though he were some stranger come to call on the lady of the house.
He stood on the step for what seemed like an age. He was sure his beard grew as he waited. Babies were born and old folks took their last breath as Adrian waited for his mother to come to the door. The huge wooden door creaked open, and a tall, dark-skinned man stood in the entryway.
"Tallis." Adrian gasped. The slim, willowy boy had become a tall, lean, muscular man, his skin and body toned from working in the fields. His dark eyes sparkled in the low light of the wall sconce, as a thick silence descended upon them.
"You—You've come home," Tallis said, his pupils so wide Adrian wondered if he might fall into them. A bright smile crossed his face, full of teeth and pure, unbridled joy. "You've come home!" At that, Adrian's mother hobbled into the hallway, a wise, knowing smile on her face.
"Well I'll be damned," she said. "My boy is here at last. Come in, come in." She beckoned Adrian to cross the step, and he stepped over the threshold, relief and joy flooding into his heart as he tentatively walked over to his mother. "Let me take a good look at you." She leaned in close, raised a hand to stroke his beard. "So it's true. The southern tea really does change one's form."
"Mother, I—"
"Let me finish!" She disarmed her sharp tone with a soft smile. "You've fought battles. Taken lives, and yet you tremble on my step like a leaf about to blow off the branch. Why do you fear me so? Have I said something to upset you?"
"N-no," Adrian said. "I was afraid you'd turn away from me. For drinking the tea. For not being the daughter you raised."
She laughed. "I didn't raise a daughter. Gods know, I tried, but the only needlepoint you were ever interested in was the kind you stitch with a sword."
Adrian allowed a smile to cross his face at that. "You're not upset that I've cast aside my birth name and chosen another?"
She placed a finger to his lips. "Let me guess," she said, wise eyes sparkling with mirth and playful love. "Are you Adrian?"
"How did you—"
"Adrian was the name of your imaginary friend, was it not?" Adrian blushed, aware Tallis was still in the room, looming large over all of them. He didn't want Tallis to know he'd spent hours in his room talking to an imaginary friend after their separation at puberty. It was embarrassing, and reminded him of a time he didn't want to remember.
"Mother…"
"Allow the man some pride." Tallis grinned, putting his arms around Mother's shoulders. "He fought for our land. Us men do not like to be embarrassed like little children."
"But he shall always be my little boy," Mother countered. She turned away, but Adrian didn't miss the tears welling in her eyes. "The villagers said many things about you. That you were possessed by your father's spirit, gods rest his soul. That I'd done something wrong when I carried you, to make you turn out this way." She held apart the bead curtain that separated the hall from the sitting room, talking as she led the way through to the large farmhouse kitchen. "When you left for the army, I had to defend your honor against all sorts of accusations. I even stopped attending the church, for a time."
"Mother, you didn't have to defend my honor," Adrian countered, though he was glad.
"But I did. It was shameful of them to spit on the name of a man who was putting his very life on the line so they might live here in peace. It dishonored me, and it dishonored Tallis, who has lived here since his father's death."
"I'm sorry, Tallis. I didn't know." Adrian turned to his childhood friend, but the man shrugged.
"It was a sad time," Tallis said, patting Adrian on the back, "but your mother took me in as her own, and I tended the fields, waiting for your return."
"You're no son of mine," Mother crowed. "More like my son-in-law. You're just like your father." She poked him, and Tallis smirked. Adrian remembered Tallis' father, a stoic, stern man whose business was fishing and who cared about little else. "You made me a deal, and I honored it, so much as I could."
"A deal?" Adrian sat down in a rickety kitchen chair and started to take off his armor, starting with his leg greaves. He sighed, realizing this was a setup after all. The color drained from his cheeks, shame and horror filling his gut, and he paused. "I'm not your bartering piece, Mother. Is that what you thought? That Tallis would marry me and knock me up with child, and I'd forget about this foolish notion of being a man and become a wife instead?" He stood up, grabbing his leg plate and marching to the door. "It was a bad idea to come back, but I hoped—"
"Adrian, wait!" Tallis grabbed Adrian's arm, but he shrugged him off by the front door. He flung it open, marching through the snowy field, kicking the snow as he walked. His mind was blank, his brain shutting down as too many feelings flooded him. Tears streaked down his face, and he felt like he'd been kicked by a horse.
Foolish, to think his mother could ever respect him as a soldier. As a guardian. As a man. She only wanted him to stay here and raise a family, probably hoping pregnancy would reverse the effects of the tea. That he'd love womanhood once he'd experienced motherhood. He'd heard that argument before. Heard them all before, from that small but vocal minority of people down south who still saw drinking Bethas' Tea as a moral failing. He should have known the wild north would be the same, that his hometown wouldn't embrace change. Encased in ice all winter, change came slower here than the Spring Thawing warming the land.
Mercenary work it was, then. He'd ride out immediately, and hopefully cross the mountain before avalanches made the passage impossible. He could forge a life for himself in the South--
"Stop, please! Adrian!" Tallis ran up beside him. Adrian kept walking. Tallis grabbed him by the shoulders, and Adrian struggled. He raised his hands and pushed Tallis back. Tallis wrestled him to the ground and they rolled together in the snow, Tallis blocking Adrian's blows.
"Let me explain!" Tallis pleaded.
"I don't wanna hear your explanations!" Adrian yelled. He received a punch across the face hard enough to make him see stars. His nose trickled blood and his lip split open.
"You think I'd punch a woman like that, Adrian?" Tallis stood up. "If you'd just listen for one fucking second, maybe you'd actually hear me. I don't wanna make you into a wife. I'm not interested in women that way. Never have been." He nursed his knuckle, and Adrian realized the punch had left his hand sore. "People said the same shit about me that they said about you, but your mother protected me. She changed hearts and minds in this village because she wouldn't shut up until they heard her. Now I don't mind if you hate me, but you will get in there and apologize to your mother."
Adrian gazed up at the stars. "But you made a deal behind my back."
"Sure we did. Yeah, I plead guilty to the fact that I wanna keep you here, and so does your mother. We both missed you. You've seen the world, now. Fought in a war. Was the South so wonderful that it's worth forgetting the people who love you? If that's true, why did you come back at all?"
Adrian sat up. "I came back because I have nowhere else to go. I didn't expect to find people waiting for me. Tallis, I haven't seen you since I was a child. I barely know you. I'm not going to marry you just because it's convenient."
"I know that," Tallis said softly. His breath turned to vapor in the cold night air. "I'm sorry. I spent so much time thinking about it that I didn't consider your feelings. Hell, you probably have someone waiting for you down south. You just came back here to pack your things and get the hell out of this backwater village. Can't say I blame you."
"There's nobody waiting for me," Adrian confessed. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, painting his already-stained undershirt with another red smear. "I'm not against spending time with you. Getting to know you again. Beyond that… I can't make any promises."
"That's fair." Tallis offered Adrian a hand, and he took it. Tallis' grip was firm as he hauled Adrian to his feet. "I'd say I've got some things to learn about you, too, old friend. Maybe we can discuss things over dinner? Mother's been preparing her solstice dinner for three days, and it's about ready to eat. I don't know about you, but all that wrestling made me hungry."
"Me too," Adrian confessed. "I need to apologize to Mother." He patted Tallis on the back and they headed back towards the house, Adrian's stomach rumbling as they walked.
Part Two
There was enough food on the table to feed Adrian's entire battalion. A huge turkey formed the centerpiece along with a ham, surrounded by a spread of every variety of vegetable Mother had ever grown on the farm. Adrian didn't hesitate to tuck in. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten something that wasn't field rations, or the dried jerky and hard cheese he'd bought for the ride home. Even the inns he'd stayed at along the route had only offered him black bread and thin, watery soup for the coin he was willing to spare.
"Don't give me that look," Mother said. "It's not every day my son comes back from the war, and at the solstice, too. I didn't know if you'd make it in time, but I hoped. My wish has come true. Now eat up. War has made you too lean." She smiled, but only made a small platter for herself. Tallis didn't hold back, digging in like he and Adrian might be able to polish off the table between them. Adrian didn't make conversation until after his second platter, when he realized it was best to slow down. The solstice meal was a time for full bellies, to slaughter the animals that wouldn't make it through the winter and cook the vegetables that would spoil in the frost, but what wasn't eaten at the table would be turned into stew, and what was left after that dried and eaten throughout the winter.
Adrian forced himself not to go back for a third platter, and Tallis followed suit, despite Mother's protests.
"You should eat more," Mother probed.
"I'm full, Mother," Adrian replied. "Thank you for the meal. I'm going to sit out on the porch for a while." He left the table, heading out onto the enclosed wooden porch. The night was cold, frost settling over the village, and plumes of smoke coiled out of every chimney top in the distance as the northerners settled in for the long, hard winter.
He wasn't surprised when the door creaked open and footsteps thudded on the wooden boards. Tallis stood at the railing, staring out over the barren fields.
"How bad is it?" Adrian asked.
"That spread was everything we had for winter. The pantry is empty." Tallis sighed, his breaths turning into a cloud. "The last two harvests have been poor. I'm getting better at fishing, though. Ice fishing will keep us afloat again this winter."
"I would like to learn," Adrian said. "Will you teach me, Tallis?"
Tallis laughed dryly. "Adrian, you don't plan to stay. I can sense you have one foot outside the door already. The only reason you came back is guilt, and the only reason you remain is because you have nowhere else to go."
"I was… not a talented soldier," Adrian admitted. "I can swing a sword and ride a horse, but I'm only still alive because of luck. Sometimes I wonder why me, instead of someone else? I saw promising young folks cut down in their prime, while I kept on living to see another day."
"Survival is a skill all on its own," Tallis replied. "Wondering why we are here is a pointless endeavor. I leave the bigger questions to the priests." He shrugged. "Being here because you have no place else to be is not so terrible, is it? You have a home here, a mother who loves you. A friend in me."
Adrian leaned back in the rocking chair, remembering how he'd sat on his mother's lap here on warm summer nights, listening to her stories while she knitted clothes for the coming winter. Adrian had given her up for dead, if he was honest about it. He'd only expected to come home to receive a sharp dismissal. To be disowned, or to find out that his mother had moved on without him, married some old widow from the village who had no time for a son he hadn't fathered himself. Or she'd passed away, leaving only a ghost here to let him know his homecoming was too little, too late.
He hadn't expected to find a place he could call home, and it was strange to be sitting here, contemplating a future in which he did stay after the spring thawing. He hadn't truly allowed himself to believe such an outcome was possible.
Adrian swallowed the lump in his throat that thought gave him. "To be honest, I had given this life up for dead. Mourned it. Buried it down deep. I had not expected to find anything here but ghosts, rejection, and loss."
"It hurts that you think so little of us, but I suppose war diminishes hope. You've seen the worst in humanity, and expect the same rules apply here. It's going to take time to regrow your roots. Time, patience, and care."
"I don't know if I can, Tallis. I've seen things—"
"Of course you have, but even frostbitten plants can be saved. I never gave up on you, Adrian, and I'm not about to start. Why are you so afraid of me?"
"I'm not—I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid I'll forget myself. That I'll give up drinking the tea and fall back into old patterns to try and make other people happy. Especially the villagers. I can feel the weight of their expectations already. I saw the mayor before I came here. He acknowledged me, but I saw the guarded disapproval in his eyes."
"I suppose it was easier in the south," Tallis said. "Nobody knew who you'd been before you drank the tea. Nobody expected anything from you, and nobody could utter a name they'd never heard before."
"Exactly. I want to stay. I see how tired Mother is. I want to stay here with her. I just don't know if I can."
"That's for you to figure out. I'll be here, regardless. This is my home, now, and I'll never leave it."
"Have you been alone this entire time?" Adrian pulled his knees up to his chin to combat the cold. "Aren't you… lonely?"
"I had a dalliance with a traveling knight who stayed here for a season, but he had no desire to remain." Tallis shrugged. "He was much older than me, and he was kind, but I wasn't sad when it ended. He had other obligations, and so did I. My heart just wasn't in it." Tallis sighed. "I'm going to go help Mother with the dishes. Don't let yourself get too cold out here. It's warm by the fire."
"I'll help, too," Adrian said, getting to his feet. "I'm not a guest. This is my home."
"Good." Tallis led the way into the house. "I'm glad to hear you say that." They cleaned up in silence, taking the remaining food to the cold cellar. Tomorrow began the work of drying, salting, and preserving leftovers, but the holiday was a time for rest. Adrian was grateful to climb the stairs to his old room, exhausted from the ride and the emotional upheaval of the evening. It took mere moments for him to fall asleep once he hit the pillow, the familiar scent of home invading his nostrils. For the first time in years, he was completely safe, and he didn't know how to make heads or tails of it.
***
The rooster's cry woke Adrian from a deep, dreamless sleep. He rolled out of bed and walked to the window, where he could see heavy snowfall blanketing the entire village. The mountain pass would be cut off by now. There was no leaving until the spring.
Not that he wanted to. It was peaceful in his old attic bedroom, the furnishings largely as he'd left them when he'd told his mother he was marching south to join the army. He couldn't get used to the silence of a life without folks sparring, cheering, brawling, and fucking in tents all around him. There was a raw, nervous energy the night before a battle, people getting in their last pleasures before the dawn played a game of chance with their lives. He couldn't be further from that, now. Here in the village, life took predictable paths. The slow winter plodded on, the villagers focused on staying warm and having enough to eat until spring.
Adrian opened the door to his room to find a bucket of cold water outside. He took it inside and closed the door, shedding his dirty tunic. He took a washcloth and bathed himself, staring into the fire as he did so, like it might say something about the shape of his body. He hated his chest, but there was nothing he could do about it but bind it tight to him. He had to take the bindings off to breathe at night, but he was glad to replace them once he was clean and dry. He didn't want to wear his dirty tunic again, and he was grateful to discover some of his clothing in the wardrobe still fit. The pants he'd worn to carry out tasks on the farm were tight, threadbare, and a little fusty, and his old shirt and cloak had had a few run-ins with moths, but they were good enough to wear.
"You're awake," Mother said, breaking into a broad grin as Adrian descended the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. She was already hard at work making a stew, boiling down the turkey bones to make broth and slicing up the vegetables. Tallis was out back salting the meat, cutting it into strips and hanging it up to dry.
Adrian took the knife from his mother's hands and bid her to sit. She sat in a rickety wooden kitchen chair and watched him work.
"Tallis had a relationship with a roaming knight?" Adrian asked. He hadn't realized he cared to know more until he was slicing the vegetables. Tallis was out of earshot, and his own back was turned to his mother, masking his expression. It was the perfect opportunity to ask questions.
"He did. Does that bother you? Tallis was lonely, and he didn't know if you were ever coming back from the war. They were happy, for a while, but it was clear neither of them were in love. He was what Tallis needed at the time. Someone to affirm who he was."
"I've never… had that." Adrian fought back the blush that heated his cheeks. "It's not frowned upon to drink the tea down south, but I… never wanted to explain myself to anyone. I was afraid they'd reject me, so I never sought out that kind of contact." He narrowly avoided slicing his finger, and realized the sharpened kitchen knife was every bit as wicked as a good sword. Perhaps better. He could easily gut someone with it. But that skill wasn't needed here. The village had no place for murder, but perhaps neither did Adrian. He'd never relished killing, as some of the soldiers had. The army had taken anyone who would fight, and amongst them were some sadists who enjoyed the art of killing. To Adrian it was a duty to be performed, like the slaughter of a prize bull. A necessary evil at best.
"Tallis cares about you a great deal, Adrian," Mother said.
"I know," Adrian replied. He wasn't as angry about that thought as he'd been the previous night, when he'd expected his homecoming to be filled with unwanted expectations and roles. Tallis had showed his concern by chasing Adrian down. By tussling with him in the field, fighting him like an equal. Adrian had felt something. A spark. But there was no rush for that spark to be rekindled. They had time to rediscover one another over the winter, take their time.
Adrian turned around as it struck him like a blow, and he finally realized what had been bothering him. Mother had never been in a rush like she seemed to be now. Her entire life she'd matched the pace of the village, plodding along to its steady heartbeat. Her haste in trying to marry Adrian and Tallis off was uncharacteristic. He turned around to see Mother sat in her chair, pale and shaking, her eyes fixed ahead as she seized.
Adrian ran to the back door and threw it open. "Tallis! Come quickly!" Tallis dropped the meat he was holding and rushed inside, pushing his way past Adrian. Mother's seizing had stopped, and she had fallen asleep. Tallis checked her pulse and let out the breath he'd been holding leave his body.
Adrian seized Tallis by the shoulders. "How long has this been going on?"
"Six months." Tallis closed his eyes. "The doctor said the sickness is growing throughout her body. There's nothing that can be done for her."
Adrian leaned back against the counter, the strength leaving his legs like he'd just had his knees taken out from under him. "She's always been so strong. She can't die!" He realized he was still gripping Tallis's arm for dear life and let go, his useless hands falling to his sides. "That's why you were in such a hurry. You were hoping I'd marry you so Mother could see the wedding."
"The wedding doesn't matter. She just wants to know you have a place to call home, a bond to this place she poured her life into. She knows you don't belong out there, in the world of cutthroats and sellswords. The farm is yours, if you want it. You don't have to take my hand in marriage. As long as you let me stay, I'm content to be friends."
"Your eyes say otherwise." Adrian looked at his ailing mother, only the slow rise and fall of her chest indicating she was still alive. "If I took my leave in the spring, you'd be disappointed. You'd take over the farm, but you would always be waiting for me to come back."
"I'm not that foolish," Tallis said. "I've stayed this long because of you, true, but I'm not going to live a celibate life waiting for you to come around while you play soldier." He scooped Mother up in his arms, lifting her frail body like it weighed no more than a sack of grain. He took her upstairs and Adrian followed in his wake. He watched Tallis tuck her into bed and waited until he closed the door to her room to respond. "If you don't care about the farm, say so now. I'd be happy to inherit it."
"I do care about the farm." Adrian sighed. "This is all so different to what I imagined my homecoming would be like."
"You mean we didn't turn you away and make it easy for you? Sorry." Tallis smiled, taking the bite out of the comment. "You have to make a choice, Adrian. I'm sure it's not the kind of romance you dreamed of, but neither was the war, was it?"
"Not really," Adrian confessed. He'd hated the war and his time in the army, if he was honest. Fighting had seemed romantic in his mind, but the truth of the matter was that he'd joined the army in the hopes he'd die before his mother found out who he really was. It seemed like such a foolish thing, now, when his family had known all along and the tea had given his inner demons some peace.
He'd been scared to come home, but in the end, none of the fears he'd built up in his mind had ever come to pass.
"It doesn't have to be unromantic," Adrian said. "Not romance in a flowers-and-frilly-dresses kind of way, but I felt heat between us when we fought in the snow last night. If it had been summer, I might have taken your hand and led you to the barn."
Tallis chuckled. "You say all that, while I stand before you reeking of blood." He washed his hands in a bucket and dried them on a towel. "Your mother sleeps deep after one of her fits."
Adrian nodded. He knew an invitation when he heard one, and his body ached to have Tallis' hands all over him. He grabbed Tallis and pinned him to the wall, kissing him forcefully on the lips. Tallis moaned into the kiss as they ground against one another like two teenagers in heat. Adrian struggled to part, but he knew they couldn't take their clothes off in the hallway. He dragged Tallis upstairs to his attic room, where he allowed his clumsy hands to roam underneath Tallis's shirt while leaving marks on his neck with rough, biting kisses.
Tallis rubbed his palm against Adrian's crotch, teasing the tiny bulge in Adrian's tight leggings. He dropped to his knees, pulling Adrian's leggings down with him to expose his wet slit and excited dick. He paused.
"Tallis?" A stab of fear shot through Adrian. What if Tallis didn't like what he saw? What if he was disappointed with the small dick the tea had given him?
"Damn, that tea really does what they say." Tallis grinned. "Is it okay if I suck it?"
"Gods, please," Adrian begged, relief escaping his body in a long sigh. He sharply inhaled as Tallis put his mouth on his dick, sucking at it and lashing the sensitive nub with his tongue. Adrian gripped the sides of Tallis' head, digging his fingers into his soft curls as he groaned. Nothing had prepared him for this, and he knew he couldn't last. He let out a guttural groan as he came, Tallis gripping his muscular thighs and lapping at his wet slit. He collapsed onto Tallis' shoulders, laughing and gasping for breath as the anxiety inside him unwound.
"Good?" Tallis asked.
"Incredible," Adrian whispered. "Your turn, farm boy." He let go of Tallis, who rose up to full height. Adrian unlaced his breeches, pulling out Tallis' fully erect cock. He wasted no time licking the bead of cum off the tip, admiring his thick, veiny, uncut length before lowering his mouth onto it.
It was Tallis' turn to gasp. Adrian held nothing back, letting his instincts guide him. He was hungry for Tallis, the intoxicating scent of his sweat driving Adrian to take as much of his length as he could. Tallis groaned as Adrian worked him with his mouth. He reached up with his hand to stroke the length he couldn't fit, cradling Tallis' balls in his other palm.
Adrian, fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Tallis unleashed his load in Adrian's mouth. Adrian swallowed, but there was so much of it that it leaked from the edges of his lips. Tallis withdrew his cock as Adrian gagged, stroking his hair to soothe the tears in his eyes.
"Easy, Adrian," Tallis chuckled. "We've got plenty of time to do this as much as you want."
"I didn't say I was staying, yet," Adrian responded, wiping his mouth as he swallowed the last of Tallis' seed. He was angry. Why was he angry? He'd wanted this—still wanted it. If he'd been sure there was no chance of pregnancy, he'd much rather have taken Tallis' load inside him. He wanted Tallis to fuck him desperately, but that would require him drinking another blend of tea folks used to keep children at bay, and he'd have to find the herbs for it locally.
Hurt flashed in Tallis' eyes. "I was hoping you'd made your decision. I'm getting too old to be someone's plaything." He put his dick away, making himself presentable before walking to the window. He stared outside, watching the snow fall.
"You're not my plaything. Tallis, I—" Adrian pulled his leggings up, shame flooding him.
"That knight messed me around, Adrian. Sold me all kinds of lies. Made promises by the dozen. I bought them all, but it was inevitable that he would leave, and he did. I don't want to be left behind again when the snow thaws. I don't want to be someone you settle for until a better prospect comes along. I'm lonely, here. Young men who love other men don't stay in this village. They go south looking for adventure and never come home."
"I've been south. It's not all they say." Adrian shrugged. "I think I've learned all the south has to teach me." He walked over to Tallis and wrapped his arms around his waist. He leaned his head on Tallis' shoulder, looking out at the snow. "I missed the snow. I missed Mother. I missed the farm. Out there, in the killing fields, bleeding face-down in the mud, thinking I was going to die… I missed you, Tallis." He closed his eyes before a tear could trickle out and expose his vulnerability. He was more emotional than he wanted to be, and he was afraid of that.
But he could trust Tallis. Tallis knew Adrian better than anyone and still loved him. Tallis had never treated him like any less than an equal. He was safe here. Perhaps it was time to let down the walls he'd erected around his heart. This wasn't the south, and it wasn't the battlefield. He didn't need to keep his secrets close to his chest any more. Tallis had seen all of him, and he hadn't delivered so much as an ounce of judgment.
Tallis sagged, revealing his despair. "I love you, Adrian. If you're going to break my heart, I'd rather you just tell me now."
"I won't. I'm going to stay." Adrian kissed Tallis' neck softly. "I thought the army needed me, but I was just another faceless soldier waiting to die. Here, I'm needed. You need me. Mother needs me. The farm needs me. The village, too." He sighed. "I think… I need all of that, too. I need you. I want to be here."
"Then why did you leave, Adrian?" Tallis asked. He turned to look Adrian in the eye. "Tell me, so I might understand. So I might stop fearing your departure once you get bored of life here."
"I joined the army because I wanted to die," Adrian confessed. "That didn't happen. Instead, I survived. I drank the tea and I fought for my life instead. The war ended. I didn't know why I came home, but I think I understand, now." He cupped Tallis' face in his hands and leaned up to kiss him, soft and slow.
"What do you understand, Adrian? Tell me," Tallis whispered.
"I came home because I want to live, Tallis." Adrian buried his head in Tallis' shoulder before raising it to meet Tallis' gaze. "I want to build a future. I want to live out the rest of my days in peace, and if you'll have me, I'd like to do it with you, Tallis."
"Of course I'll have you, Adrian," Tallis replied. "I'll make it a life worth living, I swear it to you." He leaned in and kissed Adrian, and Adrian felt the tension of a long war—fought internally and externally—leave his bones like a ghost being exorcised from his body.
Warnings: Non-op transmasculine genitalia, so if that's a dysphoria trigger you may want to avoid this. Adrian's genitalia is referred to as dick and slit. It is mentioned that the possibility of pregnancy is a factor he has to consider. He drinks a kind of herbal tea to create the same masculinizing effects as testosterone.
Part One
The war, was in fact, over in time for the winter solstice. Adrian was grateful for that, but also fearful. He scoffed as he tugged on the reins to draw his horse, Sun, in from his heavy canter. The horse came to a standstill long before the cliff's edge, huffing and snorting from its arduous climb up the mountain path.
Adrian jumped down from his horse, grateful to be out of the saddle after so many hours riding. He looked back along the trail, where Sun's hoofprints were quickly being erased by the snowfall. He left the horse behind and walked to the cliff's edge. He peered over to see the village he'd grown up in covered in a blanket of white, powdery snow. The tiny church where the villagers gathered and sang praises stood tall, its spire undamaged by the war. The heavy fighting hadn't come this far north, and he was grateful.
Though he hadn't gone to war to defend Valley Brook. Joining the army had been a means of escape and an attempt at validating his feelings as a man, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips, turning to vapor in the freezing air. The pouch of herbs the apothecary called Bethas' Tea—after the god of transformation—sat heavy on his belt next to the bag of coin he'd earned in military pay. A thick beard had sprouted on his face since the last time he'd been here, and it terrified him to consider facing his family in this body. Would they even recognize him? Would they gasp in horror once they knew he was their child, come home in another form from the one he'd left them in? Would they take offense at the fact he'd cast aside his birth name for a name he'd chosen himself?
Drinking the tea and transitioning into one's real form was a non-issue amongst the commoners of the South, but the remote, wild North had its own rules, often made up on the fly. He hadn't known about the tea until he'd left home, and his first sip of the bitter stuff had come after a lot of navel-gazing and more than a few near-death experiences on the battlefield. One of the effects was increased strength, and he told himself it would give him a better chance at survival. He knew that for what it was: an excuse to go forward with becoming his true self, but the delusion had served him well until he'd been able to come to terms with it all.
He couldn't say he'd really become stronger, but his will to live had ignited, an empty void filled with the changes in his body and voice. He'd sprouted hair in places he didn't even know were capable of growing it, and his voice was a deep, rich baritone, almost unrecognizable from the high squeak he'd possessed before.
He'd thought about taking the coward's way out. Some did. It was easy to forge a letter with a vague approximation of the King's seal on it, stating that the person he'd been had been killed in combat. In a sense, it was true, but he couldn't stand the idea of his family grieving for him while blood still pumped through his veins. It would devastate his mother to know her only offspring had passed. He couldn't do it.
But even out here, carrier birds had surely delivered the news that the war was over, and he would be expected home. Someone had to run the family farm, and now his dalliance with the military was over, it was time to be a responsible son and take the plough from his mother's hands. There was no place else for him to go. He hadn't been recruited as some officer's squire or a household knight, leaving his options slim unless he wanted to become a mercenary.
He didn't want to sell his ideals away for gold. He'd made enough concessions for one lifetime. He'd seen death with his own eyes, watched boys barely old enough to be considered adults slaughtered like animals, their corpses left to rot in the sun.
Yet this simple act of confessing the truth of who he was scared him more than any battle. Death he could face. Disappointment from people he loved and cherished, on the other hand—that was the most frightening thing he could imagine.
He turned to Sun, who waited patiently despite having started to shiver in the intense cold. The horse needed warm stables and a blanket, and the snow was coming down thick enough that it might block the path down to the village if Adrian didn't hurry. Valley Brook was known for getting cut off in the winter, and while he hoped to delay his homecoming, he had need of a warm bed and a hearty meal for the season. A place to rest his head while he figured out if this small village was still home.
He mounted his horse and began to descend from the peak, taking the mountain path down into the valley itself. The road was treacherous, but Sun was a well-trained, dedicated horse who took all obstacles at a steady pace, despite the cold. He would have to treat her to one of Mother's carrots from the garden once they reached Valley Brook.
He took a deep breath as he entered the village. Children threw snowballs at one another, and they paid the stranger amongst them no mind. They had been mere babes when he'd left, and he wasn't surprised they didn't recognize him. The old stone houses still stood where he'd left them, the village largely unchanged with the passage of time. He spied the cobbler's daughter, now pregnant, laughing with the blacksmith's son, gold wedding rings shining bright on their fingers.
Adrian dismounted, leading his horse to the stables. The village mayor stood at the end stall, and he shot Adrian a penetrating stare. Adrian handed the reins over to the stableboy, flipping him a copper coin for Sun's feed and lodgings. Adrian lowered his head and made for the exit.
"Do I know you, sir?"
Adrian bit his lip, fear clawing at his guts. Here it was—that pre-battle terror, the dark malice called fear that Adrian knew so well. He had no choice but to turn and face the mayor, even though he longed to grab his horse's reins, mount up, and flee. He could still make it through the valley, ride south, start a new life in a village where nobody knew him or who he had once been. It was the coward's way out, and he knew he'd regret it, but it was a way out.
Instead he looked the mayor in the eye and nodded. The mayor's head of hair was more grey than black, now, though he looked like he could still wield the sword at his side if the need arose. His face was pockmarked and scarred in a way it hadn't been the last time Adrian had seen him, and he wondered if the plague had passed through here. A new fear gripped him as he thought of his mother. What if she'd passed while he'd been gone?
"I'm—" Adrian had gone over this in his mind—how to present and describe himself without uttering his discarded name—but it fled him now, the words gone when he needed them the most. The mayor stood, patient as he always had been, waiting for Adrian to spit out his tale. "I'm Catherine Ardente's child."
The mayor's eyes narrowed in confusion, then seemed to spark in recognition. "Either Catherine had a child elsewhere, or you drink that tea that Southerners brew."
"The tea, sir. My name is Adrian now." It felt like a confession, though the mayor's words had remained steadfastly neutral in tone. "Is my mother well?"
At that, the mayor smiled. "Aye, that she is. She'll be glad to see you, son. She's been waiting a long time to hear the war is over."
Adrian managed a wan smile. Son. So the Mayor understood, at least. "My mother, she—do you think she'll—"
The mayor patted him on the arm. "It's best you hear it from her, Adrian, but it's good you've come home. The farm has started to become too much for her to keep up on her own. If it wasn't for Tallis, she might have lost the harvest altogether."
Adrian smiled. Tallis, the fisherman's son. They'd been good friends when they'd been kids. Played together, until puberty dragged them apart. It was considered improper to play with boys once the monthly bleeds began. That had been the start of the loneliest part of Adrian's life, learning the skills to be a wife in daylight and sneaking out past dark to train alone with a practice blade. It had been quite the scandal when he'd set out south to join the army, though his mother had had a look in her eyes that said she'd known all along. He'd pictured that look a thousand times, hoping she'd wear the same expression when she found out about the tea.
The mayor left the stable, and Adrian was left alone with his thoughts. He wandered out to the snow-covered thoroughfare and began to venture towards his mother's house at the edge of the village. People went about their business, ignoring the stranger in their midst as he trudged through town in his dirty chain mail. His plate greaves were scratched and dented, a mismatched set he'd stolen from a corpse, but the extra layer of protection saw to it that he was walking through town, instead of hobbling on a wooden leg.
The town was decorated for the winter festival, and an outpouring of nostalgia overcame Adrian along with a sensation of sorrow—grief, almost. Things would never be the same again. A group of carolers knocked on a door, and the warm light coming from the house seemed like something from a painting. An old lady smiled as the children began to sing, and Adrian fought back tears. He hadn't cried in a long time—thought the tea had rendered him incapable, if he was honest—and yet the tears threatened to spill now. He stood and watched the scene, wishing this moment could last forever.
But he'd stalled long enough. He could barely see his mother's farmhouse in the remains of the dying daylight, but it stood like a shadow out in the fields, looming large over everything. The carolers stopped singing, and suddenly it seemed like the idyll had died. Adrian spun around to see he was alone in the road, the villagers safely at home by the fire now that dusk had turned to darkness.
The farmhouse windows lit up in the distance, as if calling him, and Adrian took his first steps towards home, his heart in his mouth as his boots left footprints in the snow. He'd barely noticed how cold he was, his bodily discomfort drowned out by the sheer terror of facing possible rejection. He started to jog, needing to get this grim task over with now that he'd come to this point in time.
He reached the front door with his heart in his mouth. A wreath hung above the knocker. It was strange to knock on the door of his own home, as though he were some stranger come to call on the lady of the house.
He stood on the step for what seemed like an age. He was sure his beard grew as he waited. Babies were born and old folks took their last breath as Adrian waited for his mother to come to the door. The huge wooden door creaked open, and a tall, dark-skinned man stood in the entryway.
"Tallis." Adrian gasped. The slim, willowy boy had become a tall, lean, muscular man, his skin and body toned from working in the fields. His dark eyes sparkled in the low light of the wall sconce, as a thick silence descended upon them.
"You—You've come home," Tallis said, his pupils so wide Adrian wondered if he might fall into them. A bright smile crossed his face, full of teeth and pure, unbridled joy. "You've come home!" At that, Adrian's mother hobbled into the hallway, a wise, knowing smile on her face.
"Well I'll be damned," she said. "My boy is here at last. Come in, come in." She beckoned Adrian to cross the step, and he stepped over the threshold, relief and joy flooding into his heart as he tentatively walked over to his mother. "Let me take a good look at you." She leaned in close, raised a hand to stroke his beard. "So it's true. The southern tea really does change one's form."
"Mother, I—"
"Let me finish!" She disarmed her sharp tone with a soft smile. "You've fought battles. Taken lives, and yet you tremble on my step like a leaf about to blow off the branch. Why do you fear me so? Have I said something to upset you?"
"N-no," Adrian said. "I was afraid you'd turn away from me. For drinking the tea. For not being the daughter you raised."
She laughed. "I didn't raise a daughter. Gods know, I tried, but the only needlepoint you were ever interested in was the kind you stitch with a sword."
Adrian allowed a smile to cross his face at that. "You're not upset that I've cast aside my birth name and chosen another?"
She placed a finger to his lips. "Let me guess," she said, wise eyes sparkling with mirth and playful love. "Are you Adrian?"
"How did you—"
"Adrian was the name of your imaginary friend, was it not?" Adrian blushed, aware Tallis was still in the room, looming large over all of them. He didn't want Tallis to know he'd spent hours in his room talking to an imaginary friend after their separation at puberty. It was embarrassing, and reminded him of a time he didn't want to remember.
"Mother…"
"Allow the man some pride." Tallis grinned, putting his arms around Mother's shoulders. "He fought for our land. Us men do not like to be embarrassed like little children."
"But he shall always be my little boy," Mother countered. She turned away, but Adrian didn't miss the tears welling in her eyes. "The villagers said many things about you. That you were possessed by your father's spirit, gods rest his soul. That I'd done something wrong when I carried you, to make you turn out this way." She held apart the bead curtain that separated the hall from the sitting room, talking as she led the way through to the large farmhouse kitchen. "When you left for the army, I had to defend your honor against all sorts of accusations. I even stopped attending the church, for a time."
"Mother, you didn't have to defend my honor," Adrian countered, though he was glad.
"But I did. It was shameful of them to spit on the name of a man who was putting his very life on the line so they might live here in peace. It dishonored me, and it dishonored Tallis, who has lived here since his father's death."
"I'm sorry, Tallis. I didn't know." Adrian turned to his childhood friend, but the man shrugged.
"It was a sad time," Tallis said, patting Adrian on the back, "but your mother took me in as her own, and I tended the fields, waiting for your return."
"You're no son of mine," Mother crowed. "More like my son-in-law. You're just like your father." She poked him, and Tallis smirked. Adrian remembered Tallis' father, a stoic, stern man whose business was fishing and who cared about little else. "You made me a deal, and I honored it, so much as I could."
"A deal?" Adrian sat down in a rickety kitchen chair and started to take off his armor, starting with his leg greaves. He sighed, realizing this was a setup after all. The color drained from his cheeks, shame and horror filling his gut, and he paused. "I'm not your bartering piece, Mother. Is that what you thought? That Tallis would marry me and knock me up with child, and I'd forget about this foolish notion of being a man and become a wife instead?" He stood up, grabbing his leg plate and marching to the door. "It was a bad idea to come back, but I hoped—"
"Adrian, wait!" Tallis grabbed Adrian's arm, but he shrugged him off by the front door. He flung it open, marching through the snowy field, kicking the snow as he walked. His mind was blank, his brain shutting down as too many feelings flooded him. Tears streaked down his face, and he felt like he'd been kicked by a horse.
Foolish, to think his mother could ever respect him as a soldier. As a guardian. As a man. She only wanted him to stay here and raise a family, probably hoping pregnancy would reverse the effects of the tea. That he'd love womanhood once he'd experienced motherhood. He'd heard that argument before. Heard them all before, from that small but vocal minority of people down south who still saw drinking Bethas' Tea as a moral failing. He should have known the wild north would be the same, that his hometown wouldn't embrace change. Encased in ice all winter, change came slower here than the Spring Thawing warming the land.
Mercenary work it was, then. He'd ride out immediately, and hopefully cross the mountain before avalanches made the passage impossible. He could forge a life for himself in the South--
"Stop, please! Adrian!" Tallis ran up beside him. Adrian kept walking. Tallis grabbed him by the shoulders, and Adrian struggled. He raised his hands and pushed Tallis back. Tallis wrestled him to the ground and they rolled together in the snow, Tallis blocking Adrian's blows.
"Let me explain!" Tallis pleaded.
"I don't wanna hear your explanations!" Adrian yelled. He received a punch across the face hard enough to make him see stars. His nose trickled blood and his lip split open.
"You think I'd punch a woman like that, Adrian?" Tallis stood up. "If you'd just listen for one fucking second, maybe you'd actually hear me. I don't wanna make you into a wife. I'm not interested in women that way. Never have been." He nursed his knuckle, and Adrian realized the punch had left his hand sore. "People said the same shit about me that they said about you, but your mother protected me. She changed hearts and minds in this village because she wouldn't shut up until they heard her. Now I don't mind if you hate me, but you will get in there and apologize to your mother."
Adrian gazed up at the stars. "But you made a deal behind my back."
"Sure we did. Yeah, I plead guilty to the fact that I wanna keep you here, and so does your mother. We both missed you. You've seen the world, now. Fought in a war. Was the South so wonderful that it's worth forgetting the people who love you? If that's true, why did you come back at all?"
Adrian sat up. "I came back because I have nowhere else to go. I didn't expect to find people waiting for me. Tallis, I haven't seen you since I was a child. I barely know you. I'm not going to marry you just because it's convenient."
"I know that," Tallis said softly. His breath turned to vapor in the cold night air. "I'm sorry. I spent so much time thinking about it that I didn't consider your feelings. Hell, you probably have someone waiting for you down south. You just came back here to pack your things and get the hell out of this backwater village. Can't say I blame you."
"There's nobody waiting for me," Adrian confessed. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, painting his already-stained undershirt with another red smear. "I'm not against spending time with you. Getting to know you again. Beyond that… I can't make any promises."
"That's fair." Tallis offered Adrian a hand, and he took it. Tallis' grip was firm as he hauled Adrian to his feet. "I'd say I've got some things to learn about you, too, old friend. Maybe we can discuss things over dinner? Mother's been preparing her solstice dinner for three days, and it's about ready to eat. I don't know about you, but all that wrestling made me hungry."
"Me too," Adrian confessed. "I need to apologize to Mother." He patted Tallis on the back and they headed back towards the house, Adrian's stomach rumbling as they walked.
Part Two
There was enough food on the table to feed Adrian's entire battalion. A huge turkey formed the centerpiece along with a ham, surrounded by a spread of every variety of vegetable Mother had ever grown on the farm. Adrian didn't hesitate to tuck in. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten something that wasn't field rations, or the dried jerky and hard cheese he'd bought for the ride home. Even the inns he'd stayed at along the route had only offered him black bread and thin, watery soup for the coin he was willing to spare.
"Don't give me that look," Mother said. "It's not every day my son comes back from the war, and at the solstice, too. I didn't know if you'd make it in time, but I hoped. My wish has come true. Now eat up. War has made you too lean." She smiled, but only made a small platter for herself. Tallis didn't hold back, digging in like he and Adrian might be able to polish off the table between them. Adrian didn't make conversation until after his second platter, when he realized it was best to slow down. The solstice meal was a time for full bellies, to slaughter the animals that wouldn't make it through the winter and cook the vegetables that would spoil in the frost, but what wasn't eaten at the table would be turned into stew, and what was left after that dried and eaten throughout the winter.
Adrian forced himself not to go back for a third platter, and Tallis followed suit, despite Mother's protests.
"You should eat more," Mother probed.
"I'm full, Mother," Adrian replied. "Thank you for the meal. I'm going to sit out on the porch for a while." He left the table, heading out onto the enclosed wooden porch. The night was cold, frost settling over the village, and plumes of smoke coiled out of every chimney top in the distance as the northerners settled in for the long, hard winter.
He wasn't surprised when the door creaked open and footsteps thudded on the wooden boards. Tallis stood at the railing, staring out over the barren fields.
"How bad is it?" Adrian asked.
"That spread was everything we had for winter. The pantry is empty." Tallis sighed, his breaths turning into a cloud. "The last two harvests have been poor. I'm getting better at fishing, though. Ice fishing will keep us afloat again this winter."
"I would like to learn," Adrian said. "Will you teach me, Tallis?"
Tallis laughed dryly. "Adrian, you don't plan to stay. I can sense you have one foot outside the door already. The only reason you came back is guilt, and the only reason you remain is because you have nowhere else to go."
"I was… not a talented soldier," Adrian admitted. "I can swing a sword and ride a horse, but I'm only still alive because of luck. Sometimes I wonder why me, instead of someone else? I saw promising young folks cut down in their prime, while I kept on living to see another day."
"Survival is a skill all on its own," Tallis replied. "Wondering why we are here is a pointless endeavor. I leave the bigger questions to the priests." He shrugged. "Being here because you have no place else to be is not so terrible, is it? You have a home here, a mother who loves you. A friend in me."
Adrian leaned back in the rocking chair, remembering how he'd sat on his mother's lap here on warm summer nights, listening to her stories while she knitted clothes for the coming winter. Adrian had given her up for dead, if he was honest about it. He'd only expected to come home to receive a sharp dismissal. To be disowned, or to find out that his mother had moved on without him, married some old widow from the village who had no time for a son he hadn't fathered himself. Or she'd passed away, leaving only a ghost here to let him know his homecoming was too little, too late.
He hadn't expected to find a place he could call home, and it was strange to be sitting here, contemplating a future in which he did stay after the spring thawing. He hadn't truly allowed himself to believe such an outcome was possible.
Adrian swallowed the lump in his throat that thought gave him. "To be honest, I had given this life up for dead. Mourned it. Buried it down deep. I had not expected to find anything here but ghosts, rejection, and loss."
"It hurts that you think so little of us, but I suppose war diminishes hope. You've seen the worst in humanity, and expect the same rules apply here. It's going to take time to regrow your roots. Time, patience, and care."
"I don't know if I can, Tallis. I've seen things—"
"Of course you have, but even frostbitten plants can be saved. I never gave up on you, Adrian, and I'm not about to start. Why are you so afraid of me?"
"I'm not—I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid I'll forget myself. That I'll give up drinking the tea and fall back into old patterns to try and make other people happy. Especially the villagers. I can feel the weight of their expectations already. I saw the mayor before I came here. He acknowledged me, but I saw the guarded disapproval in his eyes."
"I suppose it was easier in the south," Tallis said. "Nobody knew who you'd been before you drank the tea. Nobody expected anything from you, and nobody could utter a name they'd never heard before."
"Exactly. I want to stay. I see how tired Mother is. I want to stay here with her. I just don't know if I can."
"That's for you to figure out. I'll be here, regardless. This is my home, now, and I'll never leave it."
"Have you been alone this entire time?" Adrian pulled his knees up to his chin to combat the cold. "Aren't you… lonely?"
"I had a dalliance with a traveling knight who stayed here for a season, but he had no desire to remain." Tallis shrugged. "He was much older than me, and he was kind, but I wasn't sad when it ended. He had other obligations, and so did I. My heart just wasn't in it." Tallis sighed. "I'm going to go help Mother with the dishes. Don't let yourself get too cold out here. It's warm by the fire."
"I'll help, too," Adrian said, getting to his feet. "I'm not a guest. This is my home."
"Good." Tallis led the way into the house. "I'm glad to hear you say that." They cleaned up in silence, taking the remaining food to the cold cellar. Tomorrow began the work of drying, salting, and preserving leftovers, but the holiday was a time for rest. Adrian was grateful to climb the stairs to his old room, exhausted from the ride and the emotional upheaval of the evening. It took mere moments for him to fall asleep once he hit the pillow, the familiar scent of home invading his nostrils. For the first time in years, he was completely safe, and he didn't know how to make heads or tails of it.
***
The rooster's cry woke Adrian from a deep, dreamless sleep. He rolled out of bed and walked to the window, where he could see heavy snowfall blanketing the entire village. The mountain pass would be cut off by now. There was no leaving until the spring.
Not that he wanted to. It was peaceful in his old attic bedroom, the furnishings largely as he'd left them when he'd told his mother he was marching south to join the army. He couldn't get used to the silence of a life without folks sparring, cheering, brawling, and fucking in tents all around him. There was a raw, nervous energy the night before a battle, people getting in their last pleasures before the dawn played a game of chance with their lives. He couldn't be further from that, now. Here in the village, life took predictable paths. The slow winter plodded on, the villagers focused on staying warm and having enough to eat until spring.
Adrian opened the door to his room to find a bucket of cold water outside. He took it inside and closed the door, shedding his dirty tunic. He took a washcloth and bathed himself, staring into the fire as he did so, like it might say something about the shape of his body. He hated his chest, but there was nothing he could do about it but bind it tight to him. He had to take the bindings off to breathe at night, but he was glad to replace them once he was clean and dry. He didn't want to wear his dirty tunic again, and he was grateful to discover some of his clothing in the wardrobe still fit. The pants he'd worn to carry out tasks on the farm were tight, threadbare, and a little fusty, and his old shirt and cloak had had a few run-ins with moths, but they were good enough to wear.
"You're awake," Mother said, breaking into a broad grin as Adrian descended the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. She was already hard at work making a stew, boiling down the turkey bones to make broth and slicing up the vegetables. Tallis was out back salting the meat, cutting it into strips and hanging it up to dry.
Adrian took the knife from his mother's hands and bid her to sit. She sat in a rickety wooden kitchen chair and watched him work.
"Tallis had a relationship with a roaming knight?" Adrian asked. He hadn't realized he cared to know more until he was slicing the vegetables. Tallis was out of earshot, and his own back was turned to his mother, masking his expression. It was the perfect opportunity to ask questions.
"He did. Does that bother you? Tallis was lonely, and he didn't know if you were ever coming back from the war. They were happy, for a while, but it was clear neither of them were in love. He was what Tallis needed at the time. Someone to affirm who he was."
"I've never… had that." Adrian fought back the blush that heated his cheeks. "It's not frowned upon to drink the tea down south, but I… never wanted to explain myself to anyone. I was afraid they'd reject me, so I never sought out that kind of contact." He narrowly avoided slicing his finger, and realized the sharpened kitchen knife was every bit as wicked as a good sword. Perhaps better. He could easily gut someone with it. But that skill wasn't needed here. The village had no place for murder, but perhaps neither did Adrian. He'd never relished killing, as some of the soldiers had. The army had taken anyone who would fight, and amongst them were some sadists who enjoyed the art of killing. To Adrian it was a duty to be performed, like the slaughter of a prize bull. A necessary evil at best.
"Tallis cares about you a great deal, Adrian," Mother said.
"I know," Adrian replied. He wasn't as angry about that thought as he'd been the previous night, when he'd expected his homecoming to be filled with unwanted expectations and roles. Tallis had showed his concern by chasing Adrian down. By tussling with him in the field, fighting him like an equal. Adrian had felt something. A spark. But there was no rush for that spark to be rekindled. They had time to rediscover one another over the winter, take their time.
Adrian turned around as it struck him like a blow, and he finally realized what had been bothering him. Mother had never been in a rush like she seemed to be now. Her entire life she'd matched the pace of the village, plodding along to its steady heartbeat. Her haste in trying to marry Adrian and Tallis off was uncharacteristic. He turned around to see Mother sat in her chair, pale and shaking, her eyes fixed ahead as she seized.
Adrian ran to the back door and threw it open. "Tallis! Come quickly!" Tallis dropped the meat he was holding and rushed inside, pushing his way past Adrian. Mother's seizing had stopped, and she had fallen asleep. Tallis checked her pulse and let out the breath he'd been holding leave his body.
Adrian seized Tallis by the shoulders. "How long has this been going on?"
"Six months." Tallis closed his eyes. "The doctor said the sickness is growing throughout her body. There's nothing that can be done for her."
Adrian leaned back against the counter, the strength leaving his legs like he'd just had his knees taken out from under him. "She's always been so strong. She can't die!" He realized he was still gripping Tallis's arm for dear life and let go, his useless hands falling to his sides. "That's why you were in such a hurry. You were hoping I'd marry you so Mother could see the wedding."
"The wedding doesn't matter. She just wants to know you have a place to call home, a bond to this place she poured her life into. She knows you don't belong out there, in the world of cutthroats and sellswords. The farm is yours, if you want it. You don't have to take my hand in marriage. As long as you let me stay, I'm content to be friends."
"Your eyes say otherwise." Adrian looked at his ailing mother, only the slow rise and fall of her chest indicating she was still alive. "If I took my leave in the spring, you'd be disappointed. You'd take over the farm, but you would always be waiting for me to come back."
"I'm not that foolish," Tallis said. "I've stayed this long because of you, true, but I'm not going to live a celibate life waiting for you to come around while you play soldier." He scooped Mother up in his arms, lifting her frail body like it weighed no more than a sack of grain. He took her upstairs and Adrian followed in his wake. He watched Tallis tuck her into bed and waited until he closed the door to her room to respond. "If you don't care about the farm, say so now. I'd be happy to inherit it."
"I do care about the farm." Adrian sighed. "This is all so different to what I imagined my homecoming would be like."
"You mean we didn't turn you away and make it easy for you? Sorry." Tallis smiled, taking the bite out of the comment. "You have to make a choice, Adrian. I'm sure it's not the kind of romance you dreamed of, but neither was the war, was it?"
"Not really," Adrian confessed. He'd hated the war and his time in the army, if he was honest. Fighting had seemed romantic in his mind, but the truth of the matter was that he'd joined the army in the hopes he'd die before his mother found out who he really was. It seemed like such a foolish thing, now, when his family had known all along and the tea had given his inner demons some peace.
He'd been scared to come home, but in the end, none of the fears he'd built up in his mind had ever come to pass.
"It doesn't have to be unromantic," Adrian said. "Not romance in a flowers-and-frilly-dresses kind of way, but I felt heat between us when we fought in the snow last night. If it had been summer, I might have taken your hand and led you to the barn."
Tallis chuckled. "You say all that, while I stand before you reeking of blood." He washed his hands in a bucket and dried them on a towel. "Your mother sleeps deep after one of her fits."
Adrian nodded. He knew an invitation when he heard one, and his body ached to have Tallis' hands all over him. He grabbed Tallis and pinned him to the wall, kissing him forcefully on the lips. Tallis moaned into the kiss as they ground against one another like two teenagers in heat. Adrian struggled to part, but he knew they couldn't take their clothes off in the hallway. He dragged Tallis upstairs to his attic room, where he allowed his clumsy hands to roam underneath Tallis's shirt while leaving marks on his neck with rough, biting kisses.
Tallis rubbed his palm against Adrian's crotch, teasing the tiny bulge in Adrian's tight leggings. He dropped to his knees, pulling Adrian's leggings down with him to expose his wet slit and excited dick. He paused.
"Tallis?" A stab of fear shot through Adrian. What if Tallis didn't like what he saw? What if he was disappointed with the small dick the tea had given him?
"Damn, that tea really does what they say." Tallis grinned. "Is it okay if I suck it?"
"Gods, please," Adrian begged, relief escaping his body in a long sigh. He sharply inhaled as Tallis put his mouth on his dick, sucking at it and lashing the sensitive nub with his tongue. Adrian gripped the sides of Tallis' head, digging his fingers into his soft curls as he groaned. Nothing had prepared him for this, and he knew he couldn't last. He let out a guttural groan as he came, Tallis gripping his muscular thighs and lapping at his wet slit. He collapsed onto Tallis' shoulders, laughing and gasping for breath as the anxiety inside him unwound.
"Good?" Tallis asked.
"Incredible," Adrian whispered. "Your turn, farm boy." He let go of Tallis, who rose up to full height. Adrian unlaced his breeches, pulling out Tallis' fully erect cock. He wasted no time licking the bead of cum off the tip, admiring his thick, veiny, uncut length before lowering his mouth onto it.
It was Tallis' turn to gasp. Adrian held nothing back, letting his instincts guide him. He was hungry for Tallis, the intoxicating scent of his sweat driving Adrian to take as much of his length as he could. Tallis groaned as Adrian worked him with his mouth. He reached up with his hand to stroke the length he couldn't fit, cradling Tallis' balls in his other palm.
Adrian, fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Tallis unleashed his load in Adrian's mouth. Adrian swallowed, but there was so much of it that it leaked from the edges of his lips. Tallis withdrew his cock as Adrian gagged, stroking his hair to soothe the tears in his eyes.
"Easy, Adrian," Tallis chuckled. "We've got plenty of time to do this as much as you want."
"I didn't say I was staying, yet," Adrian responded, wiping his mouth as he swallowed the last of Tallis' seed. He was angry. Why was he angry? He'd wanted this—still wanted it. If he'd been sure there was no chance of pregnancy, he'd much rather have taken Tallis' load inside him. He wanted Tallis to fuck him desperately, but that would require him drinking another blend of tea folks used to keep children at bay, and he'd have to find the herbs for it locally.
Hurt flashed in Tallis' eyes. "I was hoping you'd made your decision. I'm getting too old to be someone's plaything." He put his dick away, making himself presentable before walking to the window. He stared outside, watching the snow fall.
"You're not my plaything. Tallis, I—" Adrian pulled his leggings up, shame flooding him.
"That knight messed me around, Adrian. Sold me all kinds of lies. Made promises by the dozen. I bought them all, but it was inevitable that he would leave, and he did. I don't want to be left behind again when the snow thaws. I don't want to be someone you settle for until a better prospect comes along. I'm lonely, here. Young men who love other men don't stay in this village. They go south looking for adventure and never come home."
"I've been south. It's not all they say." Adrian shrugged. "I think I've learned all the south has to teach me." He walked over to Tallis and wrapped his arms around his waist. He leaned his head on Tallis' shoulder, looking out at the snow. "I missed the snow. I missed Mother. I missed the farm. Out there, in the killing fields, bleeding face-down in the mud, thinking I was going to die… I missed you, Tallis." He closed his eyes before a tear could trickle out and expose his vulnerability. He was more emotional than he wanted to be, and he was afraid of that.
But he could trust Tallis. Tallis knew Adrian better than anyone and still loved him. Tallis had never treated him like any less than an equal. He was safe here. Perhaps it was time to let down the walls he'd erected around his heart. This wasn't the south, and it wasn't the battlefield. He didn't need to keep his secrets close to his chest any more. Tallis had seen all of him, and he hadn't delivered so much as an ounce of judgment.
Tallis sagged, revealing his despair. "I love you, Adrian. If you're going to break my heart, I'd rather you just tell me now."
"I won't. I'm going to stay." Adrian kissed Tallis' neck softly. "I thought the army needed me, but I was just another faceless soldier waiting to die. Here, I'm needed. You need me. Mother needs me. The farm needs me. The village, too." He sighed. "I think… I need all of that, too. I need you. I want to be here."
"Then why did you leave, Adrian?" Tallis asked. He turned to look Adrian in the eye. "Tell me, so I might understand. So I might stop fearing your departure once you get bored of life here."
"I joined the army because I wanted to die," Adrian confessed. "That didn't happen. Instead, I survived. I drank the tea and I fought for my life instead. The war ended. I didn't know why I came home, but I think I understand, now." He cupped Tallis' face in his hands and leaned up to kiss him, soft and slow.
"What do you understand, Adrian? Tell me," Tallis whispered.
"I came home because I want to live, Tallis." Adrian buried his head in Tallis' shoulder before raising it to meet Tallis' gaze. "I want to build a future. I want to live out the rest of my days in peace, and if you'll have me, I'd like to do it with you, Tallis."
"Of course I'll have you, Adrian," Tallis replied. "I'll make it a life worth living, I swear it to you." He leaned in and kissed Adrian, and Adrian felt the tension of a long war—fought internally and externally—leave his bones like a ghost being exorcised from his body.
