I've been kind of in a serious mood, but I'm going to try to break that. Brom is such a good-hearted guy, if pushy and unable to take a hint. I kind of assume his family would be the same, kind and loving, if a little oblivious. This has been in progress for so long, I just kept coming up with more things I wanted to do, and it's just kind of sat on the side, incomplete.

It did not take much for Ohma to return to peace, quiet, and a normal routine. Men who had fought went home to work their fields. No one was worried about kings or queens or fighting battles. The only thing one of them, Brom, was interested in fighting was the slugs that assaulted his precious vegetables. He had lost track of time talking to his neighbor, Jacob, about the mess they had made. Neither realized the sun was getting lower in the sky.

"I've never seen 'em this bad," Brom was saying as he shook his head. "I'm afraid I'll have to find something new to try on them." He hated trying something new. He never knew what kind of effect it would have on his crops.

"Slugs gotta eat, too, I s'pose," Jacob replied. He knew Brom had a big family to feed, even with some of the older ones off and married and tending their own farms.

"One or two cabbages wouldn't hurt," Brom agreed, "but they're going after the whole lot."

"Guess we'll have to do something about it tomorrow," Jacob said as he took in the oranges and reds of the setting sun. "The missus'll call me for dinner in a minute."

"Don't let me keep you," Brom told him. He wiped his brow and watched as Jacob started home. He was about to head inside himself when he saw a lone figure walking down the road. He shielded his eyes with his hands and tried to see who it was walking down the road alone when it was nearly time to eat. "Well, I'll be...!" he said to himself as he recognized the man that drew closer. "Zihark!" he called, waving his hand to get the young man's attention.

The young mercenary stopped suddenly when he heard his name. He smiled at the sight of his old friend. "Brom," he began as they met in the middle of the road, "I did not expect - "

The rest of his sentence was cut off as the bigger man pulled him into a hearty hug. Zihark was not surprised to see Brom was teary-eyed when he pulled away. "I didn't think I'd see you - sniff - so soon!"

Zihark shook his head and smiled. Brom was still Brom. "I was just passing through. I did not expect to come across you or your farm." It was the truth. He was also happy to see Brom, as the two of them had gotten along well in the past.

"Passing through?" Brom asked. "I can't let you pass through without a meal, come on!"

Zihark was touched by the offer, but he was unsure if he should accept. "I wouldn't want to take you by surprise," he began, even though he had. "I'm sure there isn't enough for a guest."

Brom laughed heartily. "My wife always makes enough," he assured the younger man. "Besides," he added with a playful, but painful, poke at Zihark's ribs, "we need to put some meat on your bones! And," his eyes lit up, "why, Meg's here! We can talk about the wedding!"

"Wedding?" Zihark demanded. Brom did not hear him, or chose to ignore him. He threw his arm around Zihark's shoulder, unintentionally stopping any effort the mercenary could make to flee, and steered him towards his humble home. He would come to regret not fleeing.

The first thing to hit Zihark was the scent of cooking food. It made him realize how hungry he was. He had a moment to take in freshly baked bread and a large pot over a roaring fire. The second thing to hit Zihark was Meg.

With a squeal, the young woman launched herself at him. She threw her arms around him and lifted him from the ground with ease. "Ah, hello, Meg..." Zihark began weakly. He kicked his feet a little before she put him down.

"So you're Zihark!" Zihark looked to the doorway leading away from the kitchen. A plump, older woman stood in the door, wiping her hands on her apron. Behind her, Zihark could see a small boy peering around from behind her dress. When he saw Zihark, he ducked out of sight. "Look at you! Aw," she crossed the room, tiny footsteps hurried to keep up, and pinched Zihark's cheek. He winced but accepted the affection. "I've been wonderin' when I'd meet you!"

"This is the missus, Val." Brom beamed with pride at his wife. "The little fella behind her is Renn."

"Are you staying for dinner?"

"Oh," Zihark thought for one moment he had found an escape, "actually, I - "

"'Course he is, we can't let him go without a meal."

"It's almost done, why don't you make yourself at home?"

That was a difficult thing to do when Zihark did not want to be there and had Meg clinging to his arm. She steered him to the long dining room table and sat him down on one of the benches. "I'm so glad to have you here! Now we can talk!"

"About what, Meg?" Zihark's arm was starting to hurt. Meg was a strong girl, her father did say she lifted a cow once, and her grip was tight. "The weather? Crimea? Your father's crops?" They were hopeful suggestions. He knew exactly what Meg was going to say before she said it.

She laughed, a twinkle in her eye. It tied his stomach in knots, and not in a good way. She was excited, even though he had politely told her before a wedding would not happen. "Our wedding, of course! I think we should have it here!"

"Meg," Zihark began with a sigh. "That's not going to happen." He hated the thought of hurting her in her own home, but he could not let her continue thinking the two of them would be together.

But she had apparently not heard him over her own words. "Pa and my brothers say they can build everything, and there are some beautiful flowers that grow around here. Ma and the ladies around here can sew really good, and they'll make the prettiest dress you'll ever see! And the food!"

Zihark shut his eyes and let out a weary little groan. Something shifted on the bench on his free side. He opened his eyes and found himself facing Renn, who was looking at him with large, dark eyes. His thumb was in his mouth. Zihark managed to get out a stuttered greeting. He had little experience with children. He had expected Renn to run to his mother, but the boy removed his thumb and threw his arms around Zihark. Now he was trapped between Meg and one of her brothers.

"Even Renn likes you!" Meg exclaimed. "He's normally so shy and quiet."

"Ha... thank you, Renn," Zihark managed to say. "You can let go now."

Renn clung to Zihark even tighter, his chubby little hands tightly gripping the fabric of Zihark's jacket. Zihark hung his head and allowed the boy to cling to him. The rest of the family still living with the family trickled in, with none batting an eye at their dinner guest. Their father was a friendly man. Guests were a common sight. Once Brom made the introductions, the family seemed to burst with glee when they realized who Zihark was.

"Can you teach us to fight? Pa says we shouldn't, but someone's gotta do it since he won't pick up his axe no more!"

"Do you know how to work a plow?"

"Do you happen to have any brothers or sisters?"

The questions went on and on, with Zihark barely able to open his mouth to answer one when three more would come his way. "Now, now, we can all ask questions after we eat." Zihark was thankful to Brom for that, though even Zihark knew their excitement, and food, would not keep them quiet for long.

A nice, hot meal would have been welcome. As a mercenary, he would go days at a time with little in his belly. But when a heaping bowl of stew and a slab of fresh bread were placed in front of him, Zihark realized he had a problem. Meg was still firmly attached to him at one side, though she had a hand free to eat, and Renn was on his other. Meg noticed his predicament first.

"Here you go," she said, but instead of freeing him, she tried to feed him herself.

"Meg, I can - mrph!" His words were cut off by Meg, her intentions sweet and pure, shoving a hunk of bread in his mouth. A muffled sigh followed. Would it be rude to spit it out? Yes, it would. Not to mention, he was hungry. He began to chew and silently hoped the bread would not fall out of his mouth.

The family fell silent as they ate. Zihark could feel himself relaxing, even if Renn did spill a bit of soup on him. Bless the boy, he took a napkin and tried to clean it himself. He only managed to make it worse, but Zihark's clothing had seen much worse. With Renn using both hands to pat at his jacket, Zihark took the chance to remove his half-eaten bread and grab a spoon.

"This is wonderful," he told Brom's wife, who beamed with happiness at the compliment.

"We grew all the veggies here, traded some to a neighbor of ours for the meat. Brom can't bring himself to butcher his own cows."

"They're a part of the family," Brom argued back.

Zihark nodded knowingly. Brom might be a big man, but he was a gentle soul. It was no surprise to hear that he grew attached to farm animals. Cows were also a safe subject. "How many cows do you have now, Brom?"

"Five," Brom said, beaming. "We're gonna need to build them a bigger barn. Say... do you wanna help us out there?"

"Well, I - "

"Yeah, it'd be a great family activity!" Meg exclaimed. "I'm sure you're great with your hands, bein' a mercenary and all!"

Zihark shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth to suppress another groan. He was hoping to just pass through the area, though as the day had drawn on, he knew he would need to rest somewhere. As much as he liked Brom, he did not want to stay for any length of time to help with a family project. They were nice people, he did not have to meet them to know that, and yet, they did not seem to take "no" for an answer.

He lowered his spoon and swallowed. "I appreciate the offer," he began, "but I really need to be on my way." Zihark had not eaten even half of the hefty portion placed before him, and he was still quite hungry, but he saw the chance to escape. Then he felt a twinge of guilt. Brom was a kind man; he hated to think of it as an escape.

"Nonsense, you haven't even finished!" Brom said.

"You're much too thin," Val added.

"It's gettin' dark," Meg chimed in. "We'd be the worst hosts if we just tossed you out the door in the dark!"

The sky had grown dark, and the moon had begun to rise. "I wouldn't want to take up space," Zihark said. He had to wonder how Brom had managed himself, his wife, and eight children in their humble home. "I saw an inn about a mile back." That part was true enough. Whether Zihark had enough money to afford a room that night was another issue entirely. That was not something he'd admit aloud, however. If all else failed, he could sleep outside. It was not a new thing for him.

"Go ahead and finish eatin'," Brom told him. "We'll talk room after. I'm sure Renn wouldn't say no to sharin' his room!"

Zihark looked down at Renn, who had returned to his own food with his left hand and clutching onto Zihark with his right. There was no chance that Renn's room came with a bed big enough for Zihark. He could always sleep on the floor, but he could tell by looking at the little boy that if he did that, Renn would curl up with him on the floor. What if he rolled over on the little fellow?

And what was Brom saying?

" - after you join the family, you'll need to learn how to tend a farm. And I'd - I'd be honored to teach - " Brom had begun to sniffle again. He patted his moist eyes with a napkin then blew his nose into it. Zihark could feel most of the family's eyes on him as he looked into his bowl.

"Brom," he said with a sigh, "I really hate to be so blunt and to risk hurting your feelings, but I've told you before, while I genuinely value our friendship, I am not going to marry your daughter." It was harsh to his own ears, blunt as well, but Zihark had to say it.

"Aw, look at him, he's so nervous!" Brom managed before he burst into loud sobs of happiness. The children closest to Brom began to pat their father comfortingly. Their silence also vanished, as Zihark had fully expected it to.

"You'll be the bestest big brother we could ask for!"

"We can go huntin' and fishin' and berry pickin'..."

"Do you know good bed time stories? You must 'cause you travel a lot! Ooh, can we hear 'bout your 'ventures?"

"Can we go on one together?!"

Meg, her eyes just as watery as her father's, hugged Zihark tightly. He felt the air leave his lungs, and he was quite certain he heard a crack. He winced and tried to squirm free. In his attempts to escape, his hand brushed against the pouch he wore on his hip. His fingers brushed against the hole in the bottom that he knew was there but had yet to fix. "Oh," he managed to squeak out, "oh, no."

"What's wrong?" Meg asked. She reluctantly released him.

"There's a hole in my bag," he said. He turned the pouch so she could see it. "I'm afraid I may have lost something important." The only thing that would have fallen from that bag would be lint, but Brom's family did not need to know that. He had removed everything from it when he saw the hole in the first place. "Excuse me, I should go look for it."

It was a weak excuse, but how else did you handle fleeing from a kind family that just did not understand your discomfort? He carefully freed himself from Renn's grasp and scrambled off the bench. "Wait just a minute," Brom called as he stood. "We can help you look!"

"There's enough of us to cover lots of space," Meg added.

"I - I couldn't. It's truly personal to me. I can find it myself." Zihark thanked them for their hospitality as he backed towards the door. He grabbed the knob and slipped outside. It was an effort to not run as he turned, waved over his shoulder, and started down the road he had been walking on when Brom spotted him.

Brom's shout of "Hurry back!" caused Zihark to flinch. He felt guilty as he jogged out of sight of the house, but the guilty feeling did not stop him from going off the road once he was sure he was out of sight of the farmhouse. He opened the little pouch and reached into the side that did not have a hole. Inside was a small handful of coins. There was enough for a room. A bed would be wonderful after the tiring experience with Brom's family. After a good night's rest, he would be on his way. He tossed the coins in the air and caught them.

As he walked to the inn, he also made the decision to not come down this road again. Even though backtracking, and finding a different way to go, were going to make his travels longer, he would not step foot in Ohma again.