Hut and hat.
Feb. 22nd, 2008 01:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keire_keWow, I can't believe how long's it's been since I wrote something GW! In that intention, have a continuation of the last ficlet I posted -
It was a bright morning, a clear mockery of Heero’s plight the night before. The happy morning sunlight woke Heero up, shining into his eyes with insistency worthy of a better cause. Heero’s warm and full tummy protested the waking – yesterday’s stew was delicious and the makeshift bed offered more comfort than he’d had in a while. The sun would not relent, however, and eventually Heero was forced to kick the blanket off and look around.
Duo’d drug a couple sheaves worth of hay from the attic and wrapped it up with a thick linen sheet to make a very comfortable bed by the fireplace. “Sorry,” he had said, “but that’s the best I have to offer. My bed is smallish and I think you’d rather sleep here than in the attic.”
Heero’d protested, of course – he’d slept in less welcoming places than herbariums, which the attic was, after all – but it’d been half-hearted. His mouth’d been full and he’d been in the process of developing a close and personal relationship with the cauldron. He’d have been glad to sleep on the warm, dry wooden floor, next to the fire.
Needless to say, for a traveller such as himself it was a very good night.
The morning didn’t change much in the small cottage. It was just as warm and welcoming, especially with the breakfast laid out on the table. Duo’d gotten up earlier and managed, by the time Heero woke up, to sort most of the items from the shelves; some were piled high on the table, some wrapped in thick paper and some remained as they were.
At the moment Duo was busy sweeping the floor, that is to say he swiped the broom left and right a couple of times, counted to three, muttered something indistinct and stepped back. The broom, after some initial confusion, continued the sweeping motion. A dustpan was following its graceful progression from the west corner of the room, like an eager puppy. It was rather cute, Heero thought.
“I’d recommend getting up now,” Duo said, inspecting a stack of books. “The broom is rather insistent. I once got it to fill up a tub with water, it took me forever to dry the floor afterwards.”
Heero got up and folded the bed. When he returned from the attic the remains of his pallet were being swept into the zealous dustpan, never to be seen again. More importantly, however, there was a neat little kettle rattling on the fire.
“I assume you have a plan?” Duo asked, taking the kettle. He poured its contents into his and Heero’s cups and sat down at the table.
“Yes. We will go to Velohthee.” Heero watched for signs of discomfort, but there were none. He was dully impressed. Few humans liked dealing with the Fae and the Elves, both of whom populated Velohthee, probably because they sensed fear and tended to use it to their advantage. Then again, he reflected, eyes this vividly violet combined with delicate bone structure, plus witchcraft, indicated that Duo had Fae relatives among his parents’ kin.
“Alright. What’s next?”
Heero felt his cheeks tingle with redness. “That depends.”
“Let me guess – on whether they share their library?”
“This is supposed to be a Quest,” Heero snapped, a little annoyed that his anger provoked amusement in the witch.
“I’m not complaining. That ought to be fun. I’m almost packed,” Duo said around a mouthful of bread, “give me another half-hour and we can hit the road.”
Heero nodded and sat back, while Duo continued with the dusting and inspecting and putting away. He tried not to gape at the small bag carelessly flung next to the pile of stuff he could only assume was deemed worthy of taking. The bag was nothing more than a stylish shoulder-sack, fit for maybe a change of clothes and provisions for the day. And yet Duo managed to stuff inside several books, couple changes of clothes, a cloak, a brush, a miniature herbarium, couple knives, a sickle, a pot, a pan, cups, cutlery and he was still packing when Heero turned away.
“I think I’m about done,” Duo muttered forcing a thick blanket into his tiny beaded bag. Heero regarded the witch with newfound respect. Of course he knew Mother Maxwell was among the best. Travelling bags, judging by their prices, were hideously expensive. It took Heero three quests to afford one. What really captured his attention though was that the patterns sewn into the leather and linen were much like those circling his staff. Which meant Duo was likely the one to make the bag.
Which meant Heero really hit jackpot as far as staffing his Quest was concerned.
Meanwhile, Duo looked around the hut, but there seemed like nothing else required his attention. The broom and dustpan were lying in the corner, the fire was out, but the fireplace was ready to be lit, and a generous stack of wood was lined up against the wall. Anything that could gleam gleamed; anything that couldn’t did its best to try. Satisfied, Duo picked up the bag and opened the door with a wide smile.
“Off we go then.” He closed the door behind them and took a minute to pin a piece of parchment to the smooth wooden surface.
To the weary traveller, the message read. Heero continued reading while his brows inched higher and higher. You are welcome to stay in this hut, as long as it remains empty, but please leave it in the same condition you found it, or else. Sincerely, Duo Maxwell.
“That’s a little naïve, isn’t it?”
“No, why?”
“What if they wouldn’t want to leave?”
Judging by the look Heero received, that was not an option. “Heero, this is a witch’s hut. No one unwelcome would notice it, first of all.” Then he grinned. “Also, this is my hut. No one unwelcome is welcome in it.”
“What, the broom will attack them?”
“Lucky for you, you won’t have to find out.” And the cheery smile told Heero he really was lucky for it. “All right! Off we go!” Duo turned to the road, put a hat on his head and started walking, leaving Heero behind with his mouth open.
“This,” Heero told Duo a few minutes later, when he caught up at last, “is ridiculous.”
“This,” Duo told Heero, adjusting the headwear, “is my hat. Love it, or shut the fuck up and die.”
“It’s black and pointy!”
“If you were looking to hire a jester, I would have worn a yellow and red one with bells on it. You hired a witch, you get a black, pointy one. Clear?”
Heero groaned and closed his eyes. His internal compass was tugging at his heartstrings already. “Let’s go,” he said, resigned.
He could always burn the hat later.
It was a bright morning, a clear mockery of Heero’s plight the night before. The happy morning sunlight woke Heero up, shining into his eyes with insistency worthy of a better cause. Heero’s warm and full tummy protested the waking – yesterday’s stew was delicious and the makeshift bed offered more comfort than he’d had in a while. The sun would not relent, however, and eventually Heero was forced to kick the blanket off and look around.
Duo’d drug a couple sheaves worth of hay from the attic and wrapped it up with a thick linen sheet to make a very comfortable bed by the fireplace. “Sorry,” he had said, “but that’s the best I have to offer. My bed is smallish and I think you’d rather sleep here than in the attic.”
Heero’d protested, of course – he’d slept in less welcoming places than herbariums, which the attic was, after all – but it’d been half-hearted. His mouth’d been full and he’d been in the process of developing a close and personal relationship with the cauldron. He’d have been glad to sleep on the warm, dry wooden floor, next to the fire.
Needless to say, for a traveller such as himself it was a very good night.
The morning didn’t change much in the small cottage. It was just as warm and welcoming, especially with the breakfast laid out on the table. Duo’d gotten up earlier and managed, by the time Heero woke up, to sort most of the items from the shelves; some were piled high on the table, some wrapped in thick paper and some remained as they were.
At the moment Duo was busy sweeping the floor, that is to say he swiped the broom left and right a couple of times, counted to three, muttered something indistinct and stepped back. The broom, after some initial confusion, continued the sweeping motion. A dustpan was following its graceful progression from the west corner of the room, like an eager puppy. It was rather cute, Heero thought.
“I’d recommend getting up now,” Duo said, inspecting a stack of books. “The broom is rather insistent. I once got it to fill up a tub with water, it took me forever to dry the floor afterwards.”
Heero got up and folded the bed. When he returned from the attic the remains of his pallet were being swept into the zealous dustpan, never to be seen again. More importantly, however, there was a neat little kettle rattling on the fire.
“I assume you have a plan?” Duo asked, taking the kettle. He poured its contents into his and Heero’s cups and sat down at the table.
“Yes. We will go to Velohthee.” Heero watched for signs of discomfort, but there were none. He was dully impressed. Few humans liked dealing with the Fae and the Elves, both of whom populated Velohthee, probably because they sensed fear and tended to use it to their advantage. Then again, he reflected, eyes this vividly violet combined with delicate bone structure, plus witchcraft, indicated that Duo had Fae relatives among his parents’ kin.
“Alright. What’s next?”
Heero felt his cheeks tingle with redness. “That depends.”
“Let me guess – on whether they share their library?”
“This is supposed to be a Quest,” Heero snapped, a little annoyed that his anger provoked amusement in the witch.
“I’m not complaining. That ought to be fun. I’m almost packed,” Duo said around a mouthful of bread, “give me another half-hour and we can hit the road.”
Heero nodded and sat back, while Duo continued with the dusting and inspecting and putting away. He tried not to gape at the small bag carelessly flung next to the pile of stuff he could only assume was deemed worthy of taking. The bag was nothing more than a stylish shoulder-sack, fit for maybe a change of clothes and provisions for the day. And yet Duo managed to stuff inside several books, couple changes of clothes, a cloak, a brush, a miniature herbarium, couple knives, a sickle, a pot, a pan, cups, cutlery and he was still packing when Heero turned away.
“I think I’m about done,” Duo muttered forcing a thick blanket into his tiny beaded bag. Heero regarded the witch with newfound respect. Of course he knew Mother Maxwell was among the best. Travelling bags, judging by their prices, were hideously expensive. It took Heero three quests to afford one. What really captured his attention though was that the patterns sewn into the leather and linen were much like those circling his staff. Which meant Duo was likely the one to make the bag.
Which meant Heero really hit jackpot as far as staffing his Quest was concerned.
Meanwhile, Duo looked around the hut, but there seemed like nothing else required his attention. The broom and dustpan were lying in the corner, the fire was out, but the fireplace was ready to be lit, and a generous stack of wood was lined up against the wall. Anything that could gleam gleamed; anything that couldn’t did its best to try. Satisfied, Duo picked up the bag and opened the door with a wide smile.
“Off we go then.” He closed the door behind them and took a minute to pin a piece of parchment to the smooth wooden surface.
To the weary traveller, the message read. Heero continued reading while his brows inched higher and higher. You are welcome to stay in this hut, as long as it remains empty, but please leave it in the same condition you found it, or else. Sincerely, Duo Maxwell.
“That’s a little naïve, isn’t it?”
“No, why?”
“What if they wouldn’t want to leave?”
Judging by the look Heero received, that was not an option. “Heero, this is a witch’s hut. No one unwelcome would notice it, first of all.” Then he grinned. “Also, this is my hut. No one unwelcome is welcome in it.”
“What, the broom will attack them?”
“Lucky for you, you won’t have to find out.” And the cheery smile told Heero he really was lucky for it. “All right! Off we go!” Duo turned to the road, put a hat on his head and started walking, leaving Heero behind with his mouth open.
“This,” Heero told Duo a few minutes later, when he caught up at last, “is ridiculous.”
“This,” Duo told Heero, adjusting the headwear, “is my hat. Love it, or shut the fuck up and die.”
“It’s black and pointy!”
“If you were looking to hire a jester, I would have worn a yellow and red one with bells on it. You hired a witch, you get a black, pointy one. Clear?”
Heero groaned and closed his eyes. His internal compass was tugging at his heartstrings already. “Let’s go,” he said, resigned.
He could always burn the hat later.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-02-23 07:26 pm (UTC)And the hat... Good luck burning the thing Heero, I think you'll find it a quest in and of itself... :D
no subject
Date: 2008-02-24 11:06 pm (UTC)Heero will have his hands full, between Duo and his hat. XD Poor Heero!
no subject
Date: 2008-02-25 11:17 pm (UTC)Haha specially the hat! I'll bet it's even more crafty than Duo himself!
So... More? O:)