A/N: First new fanfiction submission in ages. The impetus for this came from a thread on UNoT's forums, in which Madhatter went through and lowered each spouse's love points and made note of how their conversations towards the main character changed. I thought it might be fun to do something other than the usual happy-love stories, so here we go. Chapter one of this. I don't know when I'll update, I haven't messed with this fic in a while and depending on how it is recieved, I'll decide from there.

Listen to the Rain

It had been a bad summer. Rain had been sparse and the temperatures had been nearly unbearable. Everyone in the small village of Mineral Town had been affected in one way or another by the drought. The small farms and ranches that were the village's main source of goods had been especially hard-hit, creating shortages and general unrest in the entire community. With the final weeks of summer looming ahead, the populace was praying for much needed relief.

"Thank the Goddess…" Alana muttered. She sat sideways at the table, her breakfast all but ignored as she watched the local weather forecast.

'A powerful frontal system will make its way towards the valley late tonight, bringing a few days of much needed rain to the area. Mineral Town and Forget-Me-Not Valley have been locked in one of the worst droughts in a decade-'

"Rain at last," the quiet voice of her husband added from across the table, "I suppose its better late than never."

Alana only spared a glance out of the corner of her eye at him, "I don't think that theory applies so well to farming." She stood up and quickly switched off the television, her face grim despite the promising forecast.

"You've barely touched your food."

Alana shrugged and made her way over to the large chest that held her tools, "I'm not hungry, Cliff. You can take it to work with you for lunch or something," she said absently.

Cliff sighed heavily, "You shouldn't work on an empty stomach, Alana. You're going to fall ill if you don't-"

"Cliff, please. I know my limits. The rain is coming and I've got to do something with the fields to make sure we make the most of it, otherwise we're going to starve this winter."

"Alana-"

She turned to look at him, noticing the pained look that had filled his blue eyes. He hadn't gotten around to pulling his long, brown, unruly hair back into its usual tail yet, which left it falling almost haphazardly around his face. He looks like hell… she mused, wondering if it were him who should be worried about falling ill. Physically he still seemed fit, he had always been lean yet muscular, but something about him was decidedly different.

"Are you even listening to me?" he asked, an edge rising to his voice.

"What? Yes." she said quickly, shaking herself from her thoughts, "Look, I'm fine. If I get to feeling faint, I can make myself something to eat. Just take my food with you to eat. I've got work to do."

She walked out, closing the door a little too loudly behind her as she went.

Cliff sighed again and slumped in his chair, dragging a hand through his hair. It had been this way since the drought began. Alana had become increasingly distant, working from before dawn until long after dark in an almost obsessive attempt to save the crops from failing. He'd heard of reality setting in after the honeymoon was over, but this was almost too much. They had only been married for four months, and yet in that short time the Alana he had fallen in love with had seemed to vanish.

She had been there for him since the day they met in the Church, keeping his spirits up when he was on the verge of giving up. She had mentioned him to Duke and Manna, the couple who ran the local vineyard, when they had been looking for help during the Fall harvest. A wistful smile rose to his lips as he thought back to that day not even a year ago. He and Alana had worked side by side that day, sharing stories, growing closer, forging the bonds that had eventually led them to marriage. Duke and Manna had been so impressed with Cliff's work that they offered him a permanent position, a breakthrough that allowed him to stay in the village. He had left his hometown over two years earlier in search of work, and during a brief return trip home found that his mother had died and his sister had moved away with no notice of where she could be found. Returning to Mineral Town, he lived off what little money he had left, and was at the end of his means when Alana had come to him with the Winery job. She was his angel, his strength, and now she acted as though he barely existed.

Rrruf. A short bark cut into his reverie and Cliff glanced down to see Loki, Alana's dog, sitting at his feet. The dog stared up at him with a gaze that almost seemed to say Don't worry. Everything will be okay. Wanna talk?

Cliff smiled in spite of his mood and leaned over to scratch behind Loki's ears, "At least you don't look through me when you talk to me, boy."

Loki tilted his head quizzically and answered with a quick wag of his tail.

"I don't understand it either." he said quietly, rising from the chair and making his way to the bathroom to shower before work.

Alana frowned at her wilting crops and kicked idly at a pebble, sending it skittering across the hardened, dry soil. She had done everything in her power to keep her crops alive during the drought, but watering would only do so much. Rain was what the plants needed, and it was the one thing the town had seen little of. And as the level of the stream on her land fell, she was forced to divert less and less of it into irrigation. She had spent many sleepless nights trying to devise methods to prevent the inevitable, a fact that had seemed to trouble Cliff. He didn't seem to understand the gravity of their situation, and kept repeatedly insisting that she was working too hard.

He's seen the Vineyards dry up; he of all people should understand just how bad this is.

She gingerly lowered herself onto the parched ground and pushed a strand of her long, copper-hued hair behind one ear. "This is ridiculous…" she murmured to no one in particular as she pulled a bottle of fruit puree from her knapsack. It was her favorite drink, and one she had concocted herself from fruits she had grown during the spring, when Nature had seemed more forgiving.

The sun sat high in the sky, beating down on the small valley with all the force it could muster, or so it seemed. Cliff had left for work a few hours earlier without saying goodbye, a fact that would have troubled her if she had the time to worry over his recent mood. Everyone in the village was a little edgy as of late, however, and understandably so, leaving her to write his mood off as an effect of the stresses they were all enduring. Sipping slowly on her drink, she gazed across her fields, taking mental notes of which crops to cull to free up more resources for the rest.

"I'm telling you, Duke, something is wrong. I know Cliff, and he is definitely not himself." Manna stared across the counter at her husband, her arms crossed, "You can call me nosy all you want, but I'm going to ask him about it. We're the closest thing that boy has to a family."

"Whoa, whoa, Manna. Now calm down." Duke said, holding his hands out, "If anyone is going to talk to him, I will. Whatever it is, a man to man chat might be better than him thinking you're trying to mother him. He's not a kid."
Manna narrowed her eyes, "You had better make it quick, then."

"I am! Right now. I'm going right now. Nag, nag…" he shook his head and laughed before leaving the shop and heading for the wine cellar.

Duke could hear only the occasional clank of bottles as Cliff rotated them in their holders, ensuring each one stayed well mixed during the aging process, as he descended into the cellar. He caught sight of Cliff near the back deeply engrossed in his work.

"Hey, Cliff," Duke called, "Take a break for a few minutes, I need to talk to you."

The younger man turned, his expression mildly confused, before he nodded and made his way to where Duke stood.

Duke could see dark circles under Cliff's eyes; he hadn't been sleeping well. And that seemed to be only the surface problems. The younger man's eyes were troubled, pensive. Maybe Manna wasn't seeing things for once…

"Is something wrong?" Cliff asked, his voice unusually quiet.

Duke leaned back against a stack of crates and feigned a relaxed look, "I was going to ask you that. Manna says you've not been yourself lately."

"I see…" Cliff replied in a tone that gave little about the nature of his problem away.

"So is something wrong? Manna's really worried, and now, seeing you, so am I. I mean, I've noticed it, but I thought you were just tired. But that's not all of it, is it?"

Cliff frowned, glancing subconsciously at his wedding band before he spoke, "I'm just worried about the effects of this drought." he replied at last. It was the truth, or at least part of it. The words were bitter in his mouth, however. Duke and Manna had given him the opportunity to stay in the village, and now he was repaying their trust and compassion with half-truths.

"Cliff…" a feminine voice cut in.

The two men looked up to see Manna coming down the stairs, worry lining her face, "I know you probably think I'm just being nosy, but I really am worried. This is more than just the drought. You seem so sad lately. I know things have been hard on the farm, but they can't be so bad as to trouble you this much. And I've not seen Alana in weeks. When I do she's always in a rush to get back to work."

Cliff sighed quietly. He was going to be hard pressed to bluff his way out of Manna's questioning, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to get out of it.

"She's been working hard on saving what she can of her summer harvest." he replied simply, another half-truth.

"I doubt much can be done for the summer crops." Duke observed, "She needs to just let them go."

"She's worked too hard for that. She's up before dawn and doesn't sleep until late anymore. You know what it's like when you've invested that much effort into something." Cliff suddenly found himself unable to meet the pair's eyes, and instead turned to study the far racks of aging wine.

Manna laughed lightly, "She needs to learn to relax a little. Maybe you should steal her away for a walk in the mountain. Duke would give you the day off-"

Cliff pursed his lips, starting to feel a slight flare of annoyance, though he knew it was unfounded, "I've tried." The words came strained, something he hadn't intended. There was silence, and he could feel two sets of eyes boring into the back of his head.

"Meaning…?" Manna asked impatiently.

Cliff walked back to the racks and made an effort to look busy, "Meaning she didn't want to go."

Duke pushed himself off of the stack of crates, "That doesn't sound like her. She's always been a hard worker, but she always made time for the festivals. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her at the last few of those…"

Manna's brow drew together in deep thought, "Cliff… is everything okay between you and Alana?"

He winced at the question, "Why do you ask?" he said flatly.

"Because I'm asking." she replied, taking on a tone his mother had often used when he was being evasive.

He heard Duke hiss at Manna that she was stepping way over the line, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Well?" she prompted.

Cliff sighed heavily and turned to face the couple again, conflict apparent on his face, "Not really," he admitted, "I think she's starting to have second thoughts about me."

"That's ridiculous." Duke blurted, "You two have been nigh on inseparable since you met."

Cliff shrugged slowly, "Not anymore. I almost never see her myself. Except in the mornings, if I'm lucky. I don't think she's said more than a few sentences to me on any given day in months. She's so busy with keeping what's left of the crops alive that… she doesn't really have time for anything else."

Duke seemed to relax somewhat, "Then there you go, she's just really busy. It happens, Cliff."

"No it doesn't 'happen', Duke." Manna interjected, her voice low and angry, "They've not been married four months. Busy or not, there's no excuse for this. I can understand 'busy', she has a lot to juggle, but that's no excuse for ignoring the man she loves."
Cliff's expression seemed to fall even further, and to Manna he suddenly looked very much like a young, broken-hearted boy, "I don't know if she does anymore, Manna. She's everything to me; I just want her to be happy. Whatever that takes, I'd do it. But I don't think I'm what makes her happy anymore."

Duke rubbed at his brow, at a loss for words. He and Manna had been through some rough patches early in their marriage, but nothing like what Cliff was relating to them. The younger man was in desperate need of encouragement, but Duke wasn't sure he had any to give. Behind him, Manna was uncharacteristically quiet, a fact that worried him more than any outburst she could have had. When Manna fell silent in situations of this gravity, it usually meant she was well beyond angry. Duke turned to look at her, only to find her already marching up the stairs out of the cellar.

"Cliff, I think you should take the rest of the day off. Go see Carter or something." Duke said quickly before rushing off to intercept his wife.

"I don't like this silence, Manna. What are you thinking of doing?"

Manna glanced at him, and he could see a cold determination in her eyes, "Keep Cliff in town. I'm going to have a wife-to-wife chat with Alana."

Duke shifted his path to intercept Manna's, "Now wait a second, Manna. You can't just waltz down there and start berating her. We don't know if there's something else to this or not."
Manna put a hand on her hips and stared at him coolly, "I never said I was going to berate her. I want to hear her side of this. But she'd better have a good reason for the way she's treated Cliff. That boy has been nothing but a perfect husband to her." She pushed her way past Duke and continued on towards the farm, leaving Duke to pray that she didn't cause a sudden uproar in the village over something she had no business prying in.