Breakfast had been excruciatingly embarrassing, with Fynn spoon feeding any carrot he cut to Harv whenever they turned up in his bowl. Fynn had also taken it upon himself to futz with Harv's hair and hang on his arm every second he could. He was acting like, well, like a newlywed he supposed. But under the disguise, Harv knew it was still Finn, and he could help but tense anytime the touches met his skin.
Instead of helping the others clean, Fynn sat in Harv's lap so he couldn't do the same. He knew better than to trust that saccharine smile when his eyebrows twitched like so. Harv had thought he'd shown an adequate amount of thanks given the circumstances.
"Humor me." Fynn said. He guided one of Harv's arms to hold him close at the waist. "Pretend for a moment you actually like me." It was said in jest, but Harv could tell what Fynn actually meant. He wasn't playing his role as a fiancé right.
"I like you plenty." Harv said in his own defense. Fynn leaned against his chest and sighed. "I do." He hated the squeak in his voice, hated that Fynn was trying to look cute and innocent knowing well the situation they actually were in. He looked up at him with those fake green eyes, and discreetly pursed his lips only to let it go. Harv furrowed his brow when Fynn did it a second time with a little smack noise at the end.
No, no way. Harv would have dumped Fynn on the floor were his whole family not here. They were supposed to pretend they were getting married, he never said they had to be all gooey about it. Fynn's fingers had wormed their way into the front of his tunic. There was a dangerous glint in his eye, as if he'd heard Harv's plan to bolt loud and clear. Fynn let out the teenist disappointed sigh that rang like alarm bells in Harv's ears.
He pushed Fynn's bangs up and his head down. There was a brief moment his lips connected with Fynn's skin and then he let go. Fynn's laughter was giddy if not a little wicked.
"Fynn... the dishes... please." Amelia said above the clatter of dishware. Anina and his mother were whispering about something when she dropped a plate. "Do you need to sit down?"
"I think so." Clover dried off her hands on her apron. Fynn twirled past her to 'help', which was mostly a lot of Fynn holding things and Anina snatching them from him. Harv wanted to crawl into a hole and vanish from sight. The stupid knowing looks Fynn kept throwing at him set his face aflame. "Harv, would you join me on the porch?"
"Yeah." Harv lent Clover a hand. His stomach sank when he felt how much his mother needed to lean on him to make it to the door. Thanks to his brothers, the farm wasn't so behind on work they couldn't keep up. It was a strange feeling, looking at the land he grew up on as an adult. It seemed so much smaller now.
"Sorry for dragging you out, I just wanted to give you some privacy." Clover said. "Your father twisted your arm to make you two come out here, didn't he?"
"...A little." Harv said. He hated lying to his mother like this. "I know he's just worried, and having us here makes it seem less... bad."
"I see." Clover sighed. "You know, Fynn gave me a special tea, tried to say it was a delicacy in the capital. It tasted like licking garden shears." She wrinkled her nose. "She wants me to drink it with her again tonight."
"What color was it?" Harv leaned forward. That would explain the impish excitement this morning. Finn always had a bad habit of thinking he knew what was best for people.
"It started as a warm green." Clover said. "But after all the lemon, and other stuff she slipped into it, it looked like a sick pea."
"That's one of the medicinal teas." Harv said. "I'm sure Fynn's just trying to help. Did dad see?"
"No." Clover chose her words carefully. "Does Fynn bring medicine on all your trips?"
"We, uh, don't really get out much." Harv looked away. Fynn never wanted to leave Cailburry after his experience on the road. Apparently, people here were kinder to magic folk than most. Harv had become complacent hiding in modernity. If he ever acted out of the ordinary, it was attributed to him being a peasant rather than his eyes wandering.
"I see." She said. "You know, you shouldn't feel pressured to have children just because everyone else has them."
"I know!" Curse that stupid blanket.
"What I'm saying is, people can get really hurt if they're forced to do something they can't." She added gently. "It was sweet of you both to offer to help out, but I'm fine. You spent long enough looking after your brothers, they can handle a little extra work."
"It's okay if you're not fine." Harv said. He'd been trying not to hover like the others. In the sunlight her complexion was a little rosier, but he could see she was tired. "You should give the tea a chance, it can take a few days, but it's really helped some people." She hung her head in defeat.
"If it will make you happy," Clover said, "I just won't be able to look at it."
Roland could tell when his sons were lying to him. People don't get to his age without noticing the subtle shifts in other's behavior. The girl Harv had brought home was harder to read, testing Amelia's patience with how little she knew about sewing. It was as if she'd been plucked off a toy shelf.
"I grew up around roses," Fynn held up his botched stitching, "they didn't look anything like this."
"...you did it wrong." Amelia cut Fynn's tread so they could try again without wasting supplies.
"I did exactly what you did," Fynn pouted, "your's doesn't look like a rose either. It's all just a bunch of knots."
"Yeah… That's what embroidery is…"
Harv had been especially cagey since returning home. He barely spoke to people unless spoken to, he avoided any chores that would leave him alone with his father, he flinched anytime his fiance got too close. His brothers were covering for him too, always quick to interrupt the conversation when Roland got close to something. It just wasn't adding up. As happy as he was the young man didn't seem to be drowning in melancholia, he couldn't let suspicious behavior go.
In the evening, Fynn showed off his wonky leaf hearts. It wasn't anything elaborate, but Harv had a bad feeling if he left things around the office, they'd get branded with little leaves. At the very least, Fynn's dedication to bridal training had pacified his family. The sight of Fynn diligently stitching by firelight with one of Harv's gloves in his hand was making his stomach flip. Not quite anxious, but he definitely couldn't just sit around carving things until dinnertime. He offered to help in the kitchen, if nothing else, to give him something to do.
"Good evening family!" The front door opened. Rhodri, in a russet set of clothes fit for the mercantile class entered with Emet in tow. He took one look at Fynn by the fire and exited the house.
"What-" Harv stammered. Emet bit their lips and looked at the floor. "I thought you two were dealing with a rush order."
"Sorry," Rhodri said as he reentered the house, "when I heard my older brother was finally getting married, I hadn't expected her to be so beautiful. I would never miss an occasion like this." Roland nodded at him. "Emet, a word?" Emet followed him and kept their eyes trained on the ground until they got to the privacy of the storage room.
"You want to mess with them, don't you?" Emet said. Roland had called on them to check in. He had thought since they were closer to the palace crowd, they'd be able to give him a better idea of the situation and boy did they. Finn's disguise was good, but it was no match against the people he'd grown up seeing at least once a week.
"I want to mess with them so bad." Rhodri ran his hands through his hair. "I knew it, I freaking knew it. After all the shit they gave us over the years..." He whispered, a little too rushed. After finding himself he turned to Emet. "I just want to know the space I can play in. You talked to Finn last week; is there a chance they're just lying about being affianced and Finn is a woman."
"Finn's never ordered anything for women, not even a stocking." Emet said. The clothes had to have been his mother's.
"Is that all?" He shook his head. "Best keep the jokes to, 'we know' then. Better safe than sorry."
"Is everything alright up there?" Clover called up the ladder. "Where's my little grandson?" Emet and Rhodri looked at each other.
"The carriage!" They shouted, followed by peals of laughter.
"He's still asleep." Rhodri called back, feeling the weight of the sleeping bundle on his back. "We wouldn't do that a second time." They came back downstairs, a little more prepared to play along with Harv's farce on the surface.
"Aww," Clover circled around to the snoozing papoose, "let's get you out of there so I can hold you." Emet gently smacked Rhodri with the back of their hand. His eyes lit up.
"You've held him plenty of times mom." Rhodri grinned. "I'm sure the newest member of our family would love to meet him "
"Me?" Fynn looked up from his work. "Oh I couldn't." Clover had slipped the baby out of the harness and walked over to Fynn. "You're giving it to me anyway." Fynn tensed up, with Clover directing him how to hold his arms before setting the baby down. Emet and Rhodri shared a look counting down from five in their heads.
"BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
"I didn't do anything!" Fynn wanted to hold the screaming child away from him, but was too afraid of accidentally hurting him.
"He does this with everyone." Emet said. "I thought lavender oil was supposed to calm babies." Fynn froze up, he hadn't been able to use any scented oils since coming here, too worried he'd end up with hay stuck on him. Rhodri took the baby and held him up like he was standing upright with the other adults in the room, instantly the child calmed. "Rhodri's the only one 'allowed' to hold him."
"I have to sleep like a horse." Rhodri joked. "I'm sure your children will have a calmer temperament."
"My- nooooo." Fynn shook his head. "No, we, uh- Harv?"
"Rhodri, leave Fynn alone." Harv stepped away from the potatoes he'd been cutting. "It's bad enough you traumatized Amelia, you had to do it to Fynn too."
"I haven't slept in four months." Rhodri handed the baby off to Clover, and thankfully the child was content changing hands. "Let me have this. Besides, we just want the first girl you've ever brought home to feel welcome." He punched Harv playfully in the shoulder. "It's all part of the process of visiting, meeting the inlaws, seeing your old baby things, Sphen."
"Rhodri!" Harv hissed back.
"Who's Sphen?" Fynn asked, much to Rhodri's delight.
"Sphen was one of the first goats Harv took care of." Rhodri fought off Harv's attempts to keep him quiet. "He cried so much at his first winter slaughter, mom made a little keepsake from the pelt. It's in that box over there if you want to see it."
"Why are you doing this?" Harv asked, knowing he wouldn't be able to cross the room and stop Fynn from rummaging through his mother's things in time.
"You couldn't talk to me for two weeks without laughing when I got engaged." Rhodri recalled. "I'm just getting started." Finn pulled out the stuffed toy. It was grey, and patchy from being carried around for years without getting washed. He snickered with delight at how Harv's old baby booties had been tied around it's neck for decoration when something golden in the box caught his eye.
"What's this?" Fynn pulled out a golden harp, and his heart stopped. It was an exact replica of the harp Darren had broken years ago. He looked back at Harv, still shocked that it existed let alone that it was hiding in a box of things Harv had outgrown.
"I didn't know." Rhodri whispered, sensing Harv's growing anger.
"What's that doing here?" Roland nearly shouted.
"I held onto it." Clover soothed the baby. "Harv bought that for his friend while he was on the front lines, it's special."
"Wasted his entire pay on it." Roland fumed. Harv stormed out of the house, not wanting to hear for the hundredth time that he never should have bought that harp. "It was more than his mother's dowry. I told him to sell it off."
"These aren't made anymore." Finn explained quietly. "The artisan lived in Glenrosa during the black plague, they're nearly impossible to find."
"You keep it then." Roland said. "He shouldn't have spent so much on some friend."
"Alright dad, she doesn't need to hear it." Rhodri said. "Fynn, you should check on Harv." He knew what was coming, and that it was better for Finn not to know exactly what his father thought about him hanging around Harv all the time. Fynn nodded, skittering out of the room as Roland's hypothetical 'questions' were continually cut off by Harv's brothers.
Fynn came out to the porch and sat next to Harv. He admired the gold frame, how the strings glittered in the fading sunlight. The metal warmed slowly under his hands as Harv sulked wordlessly next to him.
"I love it." Fynn said. The tension eased from Harv's shoulders a little. "I would have loved it back then too, you didn't have to hide it from me."
"Wouldn't have been right." Harv mumbled, his jaw resting heavy on his hands.
"What are you talking about?" Fynn nudged him with his knee. "I was the harp guy in school, it makes sense." He caught himself a little too late. He couldn't fully drop character here. "It's the best gift you could have got, and you didn't bother to give it to me."
"You stopped playing." Harv said. "Not just professionally, at all. If… If people knew I gave that to you, they'd talk."
"You're right." Fynn said. "I can see the headline now. Local twat forces military man to run errand during his service for the crown."
"You're right." Harv hung his head. "Goodness, you're right, they would have assumed you blackmailed me or something."
"Well, yeah." Fynn's face softened. "What did you think they'd talk about?"
"Nothing." They still had dinner to get through. "We'll just tell dad you took it, that'll be one less thing I have to fight about next time." He got up, and offered a hand to Fynn. "You have to put Sphen back though."
"But it's your dollie." Fynn taunted him with it. Harv was able to snatch from him now that there weren't half a dozen people in the way.
"I'm a grown man, I don't need a stuffed animal." He caressed it protectively. The poor thing easily lost hairs now and his mother's sewing basket was the safest place for it.
Fynn hated the knowing, wide grin Rhodri kept flashing his way over the crowded dinner table. It reminded him of the sleazes in court that thought every woman owed them the time of day. The fact Emet wasn't doing anything about it was also getting on his nerves.
"I can't picture someone like you agreeing to marry my brother." Rhodri said. "Surely there must have been a knight or two that showed an interest in you." Emet had to chew their food carefully.
"Sir Radnar favors blondes." Emet agreed. "I'm surprised he wasn't all over you."
"Yes, well." Fynn stabbed his pot roast too aggressively. "He was married by the time I arrived at the palace. Repeating his father's mistake would be utterly insane, don't you think?"
"You've only been at the palace a few years?" Rhodri raised a brow. "The way you two get along, I thought you'd known each other longer."
"I've always been an old soul." Harv was heavy handed with his beer. "We're just two peas in a pod." Dash it all, he knew, he had to know. He should have taken Finn's advice and kept the two far apart from each other.
"They told me you were having issues getting a wedding dress." Rhodri continued. "We could help with that."
"Help with that, how?" Fynn's knuckles turned white from gripping the fork so tight.
"Half the people in this house sew." Emet said. "If someone happened to, let's say, bring the raw materials over; it wouldn't take that long." Finn dropped the fork.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Rhodri, Emet, you didn't." Clover wanted to scold him for overstepping bounds, but it was such a sweet thought. He gave a little playful shrug. "Oh that's a wonderful idea. We could make the dress for you."
"Surprise." Rhodri said. His older brother's jaw was slackened and Fynn seemed mortified at the prospect of having an ailing woman work on a wedding dress neither of them needed. "Think of it as an early wedding gift."
"I'll see to it myself, it gets finished within the week." Emet agreed. "I think patterning it after a Phoenix would be unique enough."
"Within the week." Harv's blood ran cold.
"Are you sure there's nothing wrong with that?" Roland asked Rhodri.
"Nothing wrong with marrying rich." Rhodri said. Roland warrily eyed the 'happy' couple trying to talk their way out of being bumped to the head of the line for bridal wear. "Though if you wanted to save on cost, you could always do it in the barn, just like mom and dad." The rest of the table cooed.
"I'm not doing an outdoor wedding, there are too many wild factors." Fynn said. "There's a green house the princess likes to throw tea parties in, the waitlist is a little long, but that way we'll be surrounded by green things without a random passersby sticking their nose in things. Autumn Joy and Witch Hazel will be in season in early October, and it's close to the fall harvest which will be so romantic." Harv breathed a sigh of relief. Leave it to Finn's knowledge of parties to get them out of a sticky situation. "Some friends of mine would love to play live music for us. I was thinking a glazed hog would make for a good main dish, but I anticipate a couple hundred guests, so it'll take some haggling. My cousin had little cakes at hers', and I'd like to do the same, but in three different flavors so everyone can have something they'd like."
"You thought about this a lot.." Harv said.
"Well, what do you expect her to do for fourteen weeks?" Puck laughed. "Count sheep?" Harv took Fynn's hand under the table.
"If you're wanting to dig for gold, you ought to go up the street." Roland said, much to his wife's dismay. "I'm sure you know Harv's the oldest, but Puck gets the farm once we're gone."
"Roland!" Clover shot back.
"You think I'm marrying Harv for money?" Fynn couldn't help but laugh.
"Why wouldn't I?" Roland leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. "He's got that 'job' up in the palace staring at walls all day. As soon as one of us is dying, you fall out of the sky. Poor pay from a soft hearted goat is better than nothing from a noble, isn't it?" Harv nearly pushed the whole table away getting up to leave. The front door slammed shut behind him.
Finn had done several stupid things in anger before. Darren's curse was the first that came to mind, one that haunted him well into adulthood. Finn had promised never to use magic to hurt someone again. Food on the other hand, was relatively harmless. Though pelting a grown man with mashed potatoes and beer hardly fit with the ladylike persona he'd tried to cultivate.
"Never," Fynn struggled to maintain the falsetto,"speak about Harv like that again." The look of shock on everyone's face, brought Fynn back to the reality of the moment. He saw Clover was close to tears. "I'm sorry." He excused himself from the table to chase after Harv into the night.