A Craving and a Robbery

[Vivian]

“Who says I don’t have issues, daddy?” Vivian purred, looking at Andros from beneath his long lashes. Oh, he may have been pregnant, but he knew how bewitching his large blue eyes were. He let his lips hang open just a bit, a smile quirking one side of his mouth. Andros would get just a peek at a soft, pink tongue. His tousled blonde hair was mussed just perfectly for this.

With a knowing smile that let Andros know the offer was still very much on the table, he sauntered over to the table to sit. Oh gods, it was so warm and cozy…he moaned languidly in relief. His back ached ferociously and his legs hurt. Sitting down with warmth leeching into his bones and the smell of hot stew beckoning was heavenly.

Vivian didn’t stand on principle either. He dunked bread and cheese into the stew and took great heaping mouthfuls. He didn’t care if he burned his fingers; it was so good! The warm food made the baby stir, and he only paused to growl when he was summarily punched in the kidneys. The stew vanished, and he’d happily polish off the bread and cheese by himself if Andros let him.

He settled back with a satisfied sigh. Oh, he wanted more. “As for the first question..” Vivian chuckled and wiped his mouth. “Want a demonstration or just a tale?”

It was teasing. The mutation wouldn’t let any other man near that part of him. He’d figured that out when trying to pay a caravan guard to let him tag along. The mutation was incredibly defensive of any intruders, and needless to say the poor bastard had bled to death in a most undignified way.

“I’m a Malformist.” Vivian said. He lifted up his hand, and let his fingers dissolve into the distinctive clawed foot of a flea. They were delicate, covered in thick amber chitin. “I feel a close kinship to nature, and many Malformists choose a group of animals. Mine are the insects. As a blessing, Azunath granted me the greatest gift an insect has to offer; hermaphroditism. And the father…promised me a marriage and this child a life. An education. A place to live. I’ve come to claim it.”

[Andros]

When Andros heard Malformist he was chewing on a big bite of bread and gasped so that he pulled it right into his throat. It took him a good 30 seconds of coughing before he got it out again, leaving him red faced and panting for breath

He took a big swig of hot tea when he’d caught his breath, not caring that it burned the roof of his mouth. Malformity was a big, big deal. This wasn’t some garden variety magic. Andros didn’t know much about it, but he knew malformists could talk to animals and shapeshift That meant he’d misjudged the situation out in the larder. Vivian could have done him serious harm. He underestimated the young man, who could have transformed himself into a (very pregnant) tiger or a bear. It’s a good thing he’d been kind.

And it was just as well that he had tried to make Vivian feel welcome, because Vivian had something Andros wanted. Vivian had his connection with nature, of course, but Andros had his own, too. He wasn’t in full communion and understanding with the creatures of the world, but he had always felt a strong bond with his flock. He named his sheep and could tell them apart at a glance. He spoke to them constantly while they were on the move. As a peddler they were something of a nuisance. He could move faster without them and get more selling done. But he found their presence comforting, and they were always a dependable source of milk and wool, which could be turned into money in a pinch.

Andros refilled Vivian’s bowl without being asked. He could tell she was still hungry.

“The little one needs his portion too. I hope you find the baby’s father. You deserve a wedding ring and a place to stay. Now, you told your story and I said that would pay your debt, but I have a favor to ask you.” He grinned. “Can you talk to my animals for me? I’ve always wanted to know what they’re thinking.”

[Vivian]

Vivian tensed as Andros choked on his bread, pausing and staring at him. One never knew how people were going to react to him being a Malformist. Malformists were definitely among the strangest mages out there, and even stranger if they didn’t ally themselves with beautiful beasts like lions or horses. He waited for the man to recover, but he was ready to bolt outside and grab Bara if he needed to. He couldn’t run very quickly, but he also wasn’t limited to the two legs he owned.

Instead of drawing a blade or rushing at him, Andros refilled his bowl. Vivian cautiously settled into it, able to enjoy the food a little more now that he didn’t feel he needed to bolt it. He chewed quietly, but didn’t let Andros out of his sight. Even if he wasn’t in Radenor and on his guard, the prostitute in him knew never to let his eyes off of a man. Especially a man who couldn’t be bought with sex.

“Talk to your sheep?” Vivian questioned. Malformists couldn’t talk to animals. They could understand the world through the animal’s eyes but they couldn’t influence the creature. He chuckled. Andros had a fundamental misunderstanding of Malformity but that wouldn’t stop Vivian. Maybe he could understand the sheep better himself, and he wasn’t one to turn down knowledge for its own sake. Poor fool.

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

[Andros]

It wasn’t clear to Andros what was happening when Vivian entered the pen where the sheep were lazily munching on scraggly Frost grass. They bleated at him, then he let them smell him and stroked their noses gently. They calmed down and went back to grazing. That was it. Somehow he almost expected them to speak - or at least for something more clearly…magical to happen. It was a little disappointing.

Vivian stayed in the pen a long while, simply petting the sheep and, when they flopped to the ground, sitting down and leaning against them. It seemed peaceful. Not at all what he’d pictured. But when they returned to the kitchen table to warm up and discuss, Vivian had plenty to tell him.

He couldn’t ask the sheep direct questions and get clear answers, apparently. It’s more subtle than that. Andros had asked him to find out what they called one another - if they had their own names - and what he could do to get them to produce more milk. And if their Frost coats were becoming uncomfortable and needed to be shorn early. And half a dozen other questions. None of that information was forthcoming.

Instead, he heard rather sadly that they missed their sons. That was what Vivian saw when he saw through their eyes. Andros kept a flock of ewes. No sense herding a ram across Radenor when he’s not going to make you any milk. The wool doesn’t justify the effort, and ewes can always find a ram on their travels to produce the next generation. So male lambs get sold off quickly. They’re the rare commodity that everyone in Radenor seems to want. Villages will pool their money to buy the meat for a local festival. Mages want lambskin for writing. Nobles can’t get enough lambswool for their undergarments.

To Andros, each male lamb born to his flock is a walking, bleating pile of money. But not to their mothers. With a sigh, Andors made himself a promise. He’d keep the males with their mothers until the end of their first Ash, when they’re ready to separate, then sell them at market. It would mean a hit to his bottom line, but he couldn’t keep doing what he was doing after Vivian conveyed the depth of the ewes’ feeling. It brought tears to his eyes, making him think of his own daughters and how he missed them.

Andros sent Vivian off on his way with a full satchel of food and a firm admonition not to steal anymore. That provoked some eye rolling, which Andros ignored. When he went back out to take his sheep to pasture, they swarmed around him, nuzzling into his legs and bleating happily. They ate ravenously, then promptly went to sleep in a placid-looking pile. Vivian had had an effect on the beasts, and Andros was grateful. It was worth losing some cheese and jerky.