A Craving and a Robbery

[Vivian]

69th of Frost

Vivian was nearly to town. He had long since abandoned riding the mule at his side, one arm flung around the animal’s neck. It was impossible to ride in his condition, with a large swollen belly. He had to use Bara to walk, and the mule was helpfully leaning into his weight to support him. All of his earthly possessions were on Bara. His tools, his clothes, everything, and the mule bore it without complaint.

Vivian spotted the farm on the outskirts of town, and sensed an opportunity. Frost was a cruel mistress, and he had let Bara scavenge from the side of the road but there had been no hay for miles. He stopped, gently tugging Bara’s rein to pause him. “Hey.” He whispered. “You want hay? You be quiet and follow me.”

The Malformist clicked to the mule, and quietly opened the sheep gate. He used Bara to walk over to the barn, and opened it up. The mule waited patiently until he had ahold of a stall door, then leaned over and began stealing great mouthfuls of hay from the sheep in to eat their dinner. The fluffy animals bawwed angrily at the draft mule, but none of them were about to start a fight with an animal who towered over them.

Vivian slowly pawed around. There was no tack room, but there was a larder. Cheese was aging, and meat was drying in the cold air. He grabbed a wheel off the shelf and sunk his teeth into it, yanking dried mutton down. He was so hungry; this damn kid was demanding when it came to food. He limped uneasily back out to the barn and sat on a hay bale, tearing into the cheesecloth surrounding the dried meat with his teeth. He chewed greedily, ripping off great hunks of mutton.

“See Bara? Still got it.” He chuckled.

The mule huffed appreciatively.

[Andros]

Andros was awake before the dog started barking. He’d been having a pleasant nap in the barn, but the bleating of his sheep always wakes him right up. Usually it’s just a fox or some sheepish bickering, but sometimes it’s wolves. He rummaged around on a shelf until he found his sword, then prepared to go outside to defend his livestock.

This was such a nice place, one of his favorite stopovers. Pleasant farmsteads like these made the life of a peddler tolerable. It was home to an old couple - even older than Andros- whose only son was taken off to a guild years ago, Andros was allowed to stay in the barn and feed his sheep from their store of hay in exchange for some light maintenance work and stocking the larder with jerky and cheese.

In theory, anyway. Really, though, he stays in exchange for his company. The couple is lonely and they provide him with a tasty meal and warmed wine every evening while he regales them with stories from his travels.

This morning he’d spent hours fixing fences in the south pasture - tiring work for old muscles and bones. Hewas cross that some animal had disturbed his nap, grumbling as he began to open the barn door. . But before he could walk through it, he heard noises from the larder. Either a clever fox or a human thief. Or non-human, perhaps.

Andros crept silently towards the larder door, still slightly ajar. Peeking in, he saw a young woman (?) hunched over a wheel of his best cheese, tearing into it like the wolf he’d expected to see outside. He held out his short sword until it was nearly touching the back of her neck.

He pitched his voice low, the better to intimidate. “Hands up. Drop my cheese, thief.”

[Vivian]

Vivian froze when he felt the blade against the back of his neck, but didn’t stop chewing. He swallowed thickly, raising his hands; mutton in one hand and the cheese in the other. Both were gnawed. The mutton chunk was half gone, and the cheese had large bites all around the rim of it. Funny, weren’t farms like these supposed to belong to sleepy old couples? Vivian thought he’d had the place pegged. The voice behind him sounded older, but not the enfeebled farmer he was picturing.

Damn, this kid really was messing with his abilities. “Easy there pops.” Vivian said gently. “Don’t want me throwin’ your good work on the dirty floor, yeah? Now…I don’t like eating people without cause, and old men give me indigestion, so I’d appreciate you taking the blade away from my neck.. I’ve got a kid to protect.”

Vivian lowered his arms slowly, shifting cheese and meat to one hand. “I’ll just get the mule and be on my way.” He whistled sharply. An answering whicker came from the sheep barn, and Vivian rolled his eyes. “Bara, dammit..” he whistled again. The mule was probably nose deep in hay and didn’t want to come. He hoped that second whistle would be enough to prod him along. That blade didn’t feel like it was wavering or weak, which meant its user was likely comfortable with its use. He didn’t fancy getting into a scrap before he’d had a chance to search for Alistair.

The mule poked his large head in the larder, and his long ears cocked back against his neck. He wasn’t a small animal by any means; twenty hands with a heavy skull and large intelligent eyes. He flicked his tail, lifting his chin and eyeing Andros suspiciously. Vivian reached out to touch the mule’s nose. “Just gonna…take my road snacks and leave if you don’t mind…”

[Andros]

When the woman (?) stood, he saw the mark on her back. Large and unfamiliar, but clear enough that she was a mage, presumably unregistered since she had no guardian. Another mage trying to rob him, the last thing he needed. Who knows what she was planning once she ate her fill.

His first instinct was to march her straight to the nearest outpost of the…Blue Guard? Red Watch? He could never remember the name, even after years in Radenor. His memory really was starting to go. The magic police, that’s what he was thinking of. Anyway, his plan was turn her straight over to them. Let them deal with a rogue mage terrorizing innocent farmers. They’d sunder her into pieces and he’d be able to nap without being disturbed.

Then she mentioned the kid she had to protect, and he peeked around and saw her obviously pregnant belly. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t really let the Guardians (Watchmen?) destroy an innocent child along with a very guilty rogue mage, could it?. He knew they would. They are effective and protect the people from harmful magic, but they are certainly not merciful.

There’s also the fact that she was clearly starving. And she hadn’t tried to harm him with magic, which she was presumably quite capable of. And on top of it, she clearly had a good bond with her mule. People who are good with animals tend to be decent, or at least not awful. He needed to see the thief before he made a decision.

“Turn around, slowly, let me see your face,” he said, not moving his sword from the back of her neck. “I know what they do to rogue mages in this country, and I know how to use this blade so don’t try anything funny.”

[Vivian]

Bara pinned his ears at the other man’s tone, and tossed his head a bit. “Be still for a moment, Bara.” Vivian told the mule, patting his nose and slowly turning around. He put his arms protectively around his belly, lifting his chin and looking the other man in the eyes. “Rogue mages? And what about starving mothers? I’ve been on the road for almost a month. Food ran out two weeks ago. I’ve been relying on Bara.” He tilted his head at the mule.

The mule took a step forward and irritably snapped at the swordsman. It was more of an irritated stress response than anything else, and his teeth fell short by several inches. The mule didn’t like the tense situation, and he knew what swords were. He’d seen them pointed at Vivian before too, and knew how well that ended. “Easy, I said.” Vivian told the mule sternly. Bara huffed indignantly.

Vivian was standing shakily. He was cold, and hungry. The larder was freezing but he’d planned on sleeping in the barn with Bara. The sheep would be comfortable to snuggle up to, at least. He pulled his coat tighter around himself. It was a ratty old thing with a fur collar that had seen better days, but it was the best he had. “Hurt Bara and I swear I’ll eat you.” He growled at the swordsman. “So what is it? You send for the guard, they hang me and the baby? Over meat and cheese?”

Vivian chewed his lower lip. “I can work it off.” He softened his tone, looking at the older man from under his long lashes. “At least you know you can’t knock me up, right…? And we do have hay bales around. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

[Andros]

Andros looked at the man with a careful, guarded gaze as he turned around. And the thief was a man, a pregnant man, a very striking-looking, very pregnant, very young man. Will wonders never cease in Radenor? He’d seen a lot in his time here, certainly more than in decades on Mikronisi, but this was a new one.

The manhit Andros where it hurt. There was no way he was turning the man over to be killed, not for stealing food, not with a baby in his belly. How had he known that approach would work so well? Still, he didn’t lower his sword, not just yet.

“Swear you won’t do me or the farmers you’re currently obbing any harm, and that you’ll work it off. ” he said warily.

Then he had to clariffy. He picked up on the obvious innuendo about hay bales. It’s brazen. Yes, he and Elena couldn’t keep their hands off one another, pregnant or not. (Old wives tales said that’s why they only had girls, but the they couldn’t help it.) And yes, there were a few men in his life when he was much younger, serving in the army of Evrotai. But he’s not about to take advantage of a heavily pregnant stranger. The fact that he even hinted at it was sad. Flattering, maybe, that Andros could still get it at his age, But sad that this man thought he had to.

“I mean Rhaetia the farmer's wife can put you to work in the kitchen, that’s how you’ll work it off. Swear it on your baby’s head, then I’ll let you go.”

That exhausted the store of how firm he could be with this starving charity case. He didn’t lower his sword but he did soften his tone.

“Rhaetia and Pertinax, they’re very kind. If you’ll earn your keep at the butter churn they may put a roof over your head and food in your belly until you have the baby.”

[Vivian]

“I only do harm to people who intend to harm me or Bara. You treat me and the mule kindly and you don’t have anything to worry about.” Vivian said. Was that it? Was this man just afraid of him? He did give him a look at the idea of working in the kitchen. Gods, this kid really was dampening his ability to get out of work using his body. He sighed angrily. “It’s the pregnancy isn’t it?” He grumbled. “Damn kid can’t just kick me in the kidneys and make me ravenous he has to cramp my bedroom too.”

As much as he loved the little fellow in his belly, he couldn’t wait to get back to normal. He eyed Andros. He wasn’t too bad looking either. “Can still get on my knees just fine.” He mentioned. That was a damn lie. Any work he’d tried to do on his knees was swiftly sabotaged by the fact he couldn’t get his legs under him as easily.

Right. So the old man was dead below the waist. “A butter churn?” That actually got a laugh out of Vivian. He couldn’t recall ever actually seeing one. He relaxed a little bit, and took another bite of the mutton. “I can’t stay, unfortunately for you. I came here to try and track the boy’s father.”

Alistair had skipped out on him, or something had happened to him. Either way, Vivian had been promised a wedding before the birth of his child and he intended to get it. He and Alistair had some things to work out betwixt them, whether they stayed together or not. That was neither here nor there at the moment.

Vivian shivered a bit, chewing the meat in his cheek. “Got a fire?”

[Andros]

Andros wasn’t dead below the knees. He was still a man with a man’s needs and desires, though he kept them under control. He was even open to marrying again someday, but a literal roll in the hay to relieve himself with a pregnant man he had just met was certainly not in the cards. He chuckled at the stranger’s persistence.

“I’m old enough to be your father, lad, maybe your grandfather. Save it for someone your own age.” He was polite enough not to add someone like the baby’s father, if you catch him.

He lowered the sword, deciding to trust the thief.

“Put down what you were eating and return anything you put in your pockets or the mule’s baggage, then come into the farmhouse with me,” he said firmly, brooking no argument. “The farmer and his wife are in town for the day, so we won’t bother them. I’ll fix you a proper meal and you’ll warm up. You can pay me back for lunch with your story. Tell me about your baby, and about your mark.I meet a lot of interesting people on the road, but a pregnant man with the mark of a mage is a new one. I won’t report you.”

He put a hand on the man’s shoulder and started to guide him towards the house.

“I wish you’d just knocked on the barn door and asked for food. There was no need for that whole scene, and you could have gotten yourself killed. I always share with the needy, and Rhaetia and Pertinax are even more generous”

He offered his hand to shake.

“I’m being rude, forgive me. I’m Andros Chrysostephanos of Teos, a peddler in these parts. What’s your name?”

[Vivian]

Vivian smirked at the other man. “Oh. I have absolutely no problem with age…especially for someone who held up so damn well over the years.” He couldn’t resist a light bit of teasing. “Your loss, men used to pay a lot of coin for the privilege.”

That might have been stretching the truth a bit. Degare was the only client Vivian had that could be considered high class, and gods knew he had enough gutter rats and town guardsmen under his belt to found a new city. He’d never had a problem with anyone’s age, and even preferred some of his older clients. Andros’ blatant refusal had wounded him a little. What, so he was out of a job just because he looked a bit swollen? He eyed the chewed mutton and cheese in his hand, and shrugged. If he was offering a real meal he definitely had room. He set them on clean hay, deciding he’d come back for them later, and eyed Andros.

The hand on his shoulder made him jump, and tense as Andros steered him toward the house. Well, he wasn’t getting out of this one. Gotten killed? Him? Changing forms while pregnant was irritating but there was no doubt in his mind that this older gentleman wasn’t prepared to deal with a Master Malformist hopped up on hormones and desperation. He also didn’t feel the need to alleviate the old man’s ignorance anytime soon.

He looked at the hand and took it lightly. “Vivian Kreine, prostitute.” He introduced himself in kind. “Sure you won’t take a blowjob, what with the owners away and the house to yourself?” Vivian smirked, bringing Andros’ hand to his lips. An entire house to purloin as well? Maybe his luck was turning.

[Andros]

Andros had trouble focusing on what Vivian said after being told he’d held up “damn well.” He wasn’t l that insecure about his age, but it was still a very nice compliment. Female attention still came his way a lot, but less so every year. Now he blushed and stared at his feet.

Then Vivian explained his profession and made a very direct, specific offer. Andros laughed it off.

“I didn’t know you were offering your services as a professional, young man,” he teased. “Thought you just couldn't resist a man with gray hair. So many boys your age with daddy issues, you know.”

Despite the jokey rejection, the offer was appealing. It had been a long time, and Vivian was pretty, for a boy. Andros had given into temptation before, it’s true. But he didn’t want to do something that would make Elena ashamed of him, if her shade happened to be watching (which he believed it often was.) He could excuse the occasional one night stand. She’d have understood that - he always had a strong appetite. But she’d never approve of his taking advantage of a pregnant young person, male or female.

Andros continued leading Vivian in to the comfortable, well-appointed home. It was small but cozy and easy to heat in the winter. Rhaetia had left the fire burning and food for his lunch set aside.

“Throw some logs on the fire if you don’t mind. I’ll get us fed.”

Andros sliced up a loaf of bread and a block of cheese. Then he took two bowls from a cupboard and filled them with stew that had been left to simmer on the fire. He set everything out for the two of them and then beckoned Vivian to the table.

“Eat, then talk. How on earth did you get pregnant? And what happened to the father?”