Harv startled awake to the sound of knocking at the door. It took a minute for the disorientation to fade and for him to remember he was a guest in someone's home. He scrambled to move the dresser from the door and again for something to cover himself before his host entered the room. He opened the door with a blanket from the bed wrapped around him. It was hard to tell from inside the guest house, but it must have been midday.
"Here are your cloths." Finn said carefully as he tried not to stare at the blanket wrapped around Harv's waist. The torch light last night really hadn't done Finn any justice. He was a little younger than Harv in both the face and demeanor, now dressed in a rolling blouse of rich purple fabric. It was as if someone had sewn the night sky onto the tunic and hose with gemstones. "The sooner you're ready, the sooner you can pay off your debt." Finn's delivery was stilted and awkward. "It'll be hard work, but you'll have three square meals until you've completed it. So, no complaining." He hesitated a bit longer in the doorway before abruptly turning to leave. The garden had a table set up with tea and muffins protected by the eves of the house. It seemed Finn planned to wait for him there.
Harv changed into his old clothes, now soft and faintly perfumed. Some clumsy attempts had been made to mend the tears in his sleeve with a dark colored thread. The fur cloak would just get in the way of any manual work he'd have to do, so he left it folded on the bed. He braved cold air once more, now able to marvel at the vast garden lost under the snow and neglect. The rose trees that lined the walkway were the only plants still vibrant in spite of the frost, all towering overhead and overgrown. Finn had taken to writing something on a pad of paper as he ideally sipped at his tea.
"What did you want me to do?" Harv asked after clearing his throat. Finn looked over at a dull ax buried in a stump near the guest house.
"Firewood. I need at least 3 cords to make it through, that bit over there's the last of it." There was no way that was enough to heat a whole castle. Perhaps he was trying to save costs by only heating the rooms in use, but still, that was how much his family went through in one winter. Finn had gone to the trouble of setting out a plate for him; some weirdly shaped bread and sausage. Harv downed it within a few minutes much to Finn's surprise and he got to work.
Luckily for Harv the wood was soft and everything had already been gathered in one place. It was nice, straightforward, mindless labor. Though as the day crawled toward evening, he became more acutely aware that he was being watched. Of course, the second he looked over at the porch, Finn would conveniently be looking at his papers as if he'd been writing in them. Noblemen didn't typically spend hours outside to handle work matters, they had studies they'd steal away to. Instead, Finn remained routed to the porch, only occasionally leaving to fetch something before returning to his spot to 'work'.
Finn was less discrete about it after Harv had discarded his shirt to keep the freshly cleaned tunic from getting soaked in sweat. The pen Finn had been using had completely rolled off the table and he couldn't easily pretend he knew which direction it had fallen when he had been openly staring. Harv chose to say nothing, not wanting to offend his host, but it was clear Finn hadn't written more than a page since being outside.
"What's next?" Harv asked after he buried the ax back in the stump, careful not to split it.
"Hunh?" Harv gestured to the neatly stacked face of wood.
"I finished chopping the wood?" Harv frowned. For someone who'd been watching him work, he seemed really slow on the realization the work was done.
"Already? You can't be-" Finn finally noticed everything had been cleared away. "It hasn't even been five hours?" How long exactly did Finn expect it to take? "Well, it's fairly late in the day, but at least have something to eat before you go."
"Go? Was that- Is that all you needed me to do?" That was just one chore, half the work had even been done for him.
"Yeah, well, not all of us can wield an ax like a-" He faltered, whatever analogy that came to mind no longer seemed appropriate. "I'm sure I could find something else for you to do if you insist, but this saved me a week's worth of work, so... thank you." Finn collected his things, face red from the chill. He glanced over his shoulder at Harv standing in the yard. "Are you coming inside?" If he wanted to make good use of the daylight he should leave, lest he risk over staying his welcome. But after manual labor in the snow, a hot meal sounded amazing. There was no guarantee when he'd get to have one again after he left.
Harv followed Finn inside against his better judgement.
The inside of the castle was devoid of life. Dust covered tapestries lined the walls of a dining hall and a large hearth cast long shadows on the wall. While Finn took to the kitchen, Harv busied himself lighting rows of candles in the center of the table. Anything to chase the darkness away and make the place feel more lived in. There were no servants in the entire castle it seemed, other than maybe the kitchen. Harv wasn't allowed anywhere near it while Finn plated their meal. So there had to be a cook then, since Finn had been outside with him all day. The whole thing reminded Harv how truly unsettling this place could be, even though Finn didn't seem to notice. Just like the bath, having a hot meal within minutes seemed normal to him. Finn reentered the dining hall with two plates in hand and paused when he saw the glittering candles.
"Oh..." Finn's voice was soft, as if he'd forgotten there were candles out at all. He set the plates at one end of the long table, not wanting his view to be obstructed by centerpieces or distance. His brow was furrowed as he sat down to his child sized serving of pheasant and candied yams. Harv wanted to ask where the maids were and why the castle seemed in such disrepair, but nobles typically avoided direct questions about things they deemed inappropriate. The warrior's curiosity burned for even a scrap of information that could make sense of it.
"What were you working on, if you don't mind me asking." Harv quietly watched the blond shift uncomfortably in his chair.
"Songs. I write them for other people." Finn sighed. "Everyone and their brother wants to have a new holiday classic, since tis the season and all. It's easy money, but after the thirtieth song it gets mind numbing."
"So, you're a bard?" Finn relaxed quite a bit. Harv got the feeling he was used to having to over explain his job to people.
"Yeah, it's just- it's easier to sell people songs from home than travel alone." He looked outside as snow drifted down. "You've been out there; you know how it is."
"It's not ideal." Harv agreed.
"What were you doing out there all alone? I thought your type usually traveled in herds." Finn took a sip of wine, watching Harv's reaction over the rim of the glass.
"Mostly freezing my butt off." He couldn't say anything about getting discharged, that would only bring up more questions Harv didn't want to answer. "I'm honestly more curious about you." Finn's eyes seemed to shimmer as he concealed a smile behind the glass. "I'm just not sure what is appropriate to ask."
"Well," Finn set his glass down, "if you really want me to talk about myself, I guess I could oblige." Suddenly, as if a damn breaking, Finn filled the silence recounting tales of studying music and palace gossip. All of which failed to answer any questions Harv had about his host. It became clear that Finn was incredibly uncomfortable with silence and would jump to whatever loose association came to mind. It was hard for Harv to get a word in after that, though it wasn't entirely unpleasant. "I just don't see the appeal. Why would someone want to hire a stranger to come, paw through their things, and talk about them behind their back? Status doesn't mean anything if all the maids are talking about your messy affairs, but they do always have the best gossip." Finn collected the empty plates with a laugh. "Like, goodness I can never pronounce his name, some foreign dignitary bought a circlet for the queen as a gift this year. Can you imagine! Just walking up to the queen who's always wearing a crown and giving her a circlet!? I would sooner muck stables than be that man this weekend. No one's had the gall to warn him not to give it to her, though I doubt he has time to find something else, it's going to be a disaster."
"Can't be too bad if you're happy about it."
"Oh Harvey, every time one of those aristocrats embarrasses themselves, I positively glow." Finn caught sight of the snow blanketing the night sky. "You know... you don't have to go. You could stay another night." Harv turned and looked out the window. Only a fool would go stumbling out into a storm in the middle of the night.
"Thank you." Harv stood. "At least let me take care of the dishes."
"No!" Finn kept the plates away from Harv's reach, a little scared. "I mean, no thank you." Finn carefully regained his composure. "It'll only take a second. I'll be right back." Thought of going back to his room in the garden. By now, he'd probably have to dig a bit to get the door open. "Save room for dessert?" Finn returned with tiny plates that had some kind of glazed bread on it. Well, since it was offered, who was Harv to say no?
"Do you just write songs, or do you play them too?" Harv asked as he took the tiny plate. Finn stared up at with the same shaken expression as when Harv had arrived on his doorstep.
"Would you want to hear me play?" Was it really such a big deal to ask?
"I didn't mean to put you on the spot. You don't have to-"
"No, I'd love to." Finn sat his desert down and stood. He seemed almost trapped pacing between which door to exit from. "My lute's more readily available, but I'm better with the harp. Oh, but the only harp we have is the standing one in the sitting room; I should just get the lute."
"We could always move to the room with the harp in it." Harv said. Finn grinned back at him.
"Of course! It's this way." He ran off, forgetting his desert entirely. Harv collected the extra plate and followed Finn across the hall to a vast sitting room. Plush red furniture was arranged around a coffee table with a crystal ball on it. Harv could have sworn those kinds of decorations were usually outside in gardens, but he wasn't the most knowledgeable about interior decorating. Finn dragged up a stool to the large harp, he hummed to himself as he tried to settle on a song to play. "Let's see, are you familiar with Lady Hawk?"
"No, I don't think I am."
"Well good, the music accompaniment was terrible, but my version fixes that." Finn leaned against and started to play.
It was so good to have an audience again. Finn had almost forgotten how much more satisfying to was to have someone engage with his art instead of silently packaging it up for the post. Nobles at court would always passively listen to performers, it was a mark of greatness if you could get through a whole set being entirely ignored. So, to have someone watching him so intently, hanging on every word, it was electric. He had caught Harv staring at him quite a bit that day. It was quite entertaining to catch him in the act only for him to hide behind his work or food as if it required his full attention. Now that Finn was preforming, it was the perfect excuse for him to blatantly commit Finn's features to memory and Finn was eating it up.
He kept playing until his hands grew clumsy from fatigue. Even if his mind had an endless library to pull from, he didn't have limitless energy. Which was a shame, Finn was enjoying himself quite a bit, but no self-respecting artist would put themselves in a position to play badly. Besides, Harv was starting to nod off on the sofa.
"I should probably turn in..." Harv said. Finn rushed to collect the plates from desert just as Harv started to pick them up.
"I got that." Finn trailed off when he looked up. It was much easier to catch a glimpse at Harv's beautiful blue eyes without all the tangles and dirt to distract him. There always seemed to be something new to take in, even if Finn noticed them at the worst opportunities. If only he had better clothes. He'd probably look dashing in royal blue.
"You keep doing that."
"Hmm?" Finn felt him tug at something in his hands. Right, the dishes, he was going to slip them in the dishwasher before Harv had a chance to ask him what that was. "It's fine." Finn took the plates without anymore resistance and hurried to the kitchen, his heart thundering in his chest.
He was too old to get swept up in flights of fancy like this. There was no way he'd have a guest that would want to stay long enough to have something made and sent to the house. He should count himself lucky enough that he had a pile of firewood instead of an ax in his back. Getting greedy and letting his imagination wander had already gotten him enough disappointment in his life. He needed to be more realistic.
A good night's rest and a pleasant breakfast in the morning. That's all he could ask for. He repeated it to himself like a mantra until he had convinced his heart to slow down. He could be a good host, he just needed to stop over thinking everything. Or thinking at all really.
"Are you okay?" Finn startled at the sound of the other man's voice. He wasn't used to having someone in the house anymore and it was easy to fall into old habits. Thankfully everything was already tucked away in the magic drying rack where Harv couldn't see. It would be easy for him to assume he was just washing up.
"Everything's fine. I was just thinking it would probably be easier to have you stay in one of the rooms here then dig out the guest house so late at night." Offering him mother's old room seemed wrong, but there was an overnight room his old tutors had been held captive in when he was younger. He had on good authority the daybed in it was serviceable, even if it was mostly used for storage now.
"I don't know, I've already imposed on you enough." Harv hesitated and looked in the general direction of the garden.
"It's not an imposition at all. Really." Finn took him by the elbow and started leading him upstairs. "Walking out in the cold first thing in the morning; that's the real pill. It's just for the night." He lit the wick lamp in the room. Dust covered boxes were stacked against the wall haphazardly, all old decorations and seasonal linens. Things Finn rarely had a use for living on his own. He pulled some of the boxes of the bed and resisted the urge to cough. Those blankets were bound to be musty smelling. "There should be some extra blankets in the linen closet-" He turned to dash back out the door and came within inches of running into Harv's chest.
"Finn really, this is plenty." He gently rested his hands on Finn's shoulders. Finn's mouth went dry. Nothing was going to happen, Harv was tired and had a family of his own to get back to, probably. Having him gently stroke the fabric of his sleeve meant nothing in particular. "Finn?" Finn was not lingering in the room hoping something more would happen. That's not what was happening. He wasn't even sure what that something would be. "You're doing it again." Harv had ducked his head to be at eye level with Finn, more curious than concerned. Finn felt like his thoughts were trying to claw their way through cobwebs. He must look absolutely daft right now.
"Just a little tired is all." He reluctantly took a step back, silently mourning the lack of physical contact. "I should..." He pointed vaguely at the door. "I'll come get you in the morning for breakfast." He slowly side stepped around his guest as he made his way toward the door and accidentally walked into a knee-high stack of boxes.
"Finn!" Harv started to reach for him, but he quickly collected himself again.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a little accident prone." Finn finally fumbled his way to the door. "Good night." He closed the door and sighed into his hands. He forgot about the blankets. He couldn't just go back in there with a pile of extra linens now, after saying goodnight like that. He had already made an awkward fool of himself. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he find his head?