[Fic] Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme
Characters: Naoto, Naoki, Matsu, Tetsuya (mentioned in passing)
Pairing: Naoki/Naoto/Naoki
Rating: G
A/N: Truth be told, I have no idea how this came about. Scarborough Fair has always been one of my favourite songs, with strangely fascinating themes. As such, I've wanted to do something based on the lyrics for the longest time. Although I've tried to use generic terms, please pardon the awkwardness where East clashes with West.
Edit: If interested, here's the side story.
======================================The fairground was a riot of colours, music filling the air. The sweaty crowd jostled one another, throwing half-hearted insults at whoever stepped on their feet. For it was Fair day, and attendees were too intent on celebration to take anything negative to heart.
One man stood alone in the Fair, a yellowing note clutched firmly in his hand.
============================
He never thought that he would hear from him ever again.
The memory seemed all too fresh, the one containing his expression when his brain fully processed what he saw. He had cursed at himself countless times for not exercising caution, for not pushing Tetsuya away that day.
It would have been much better if he had yelled at him, demanded for answers, or even broken down into tears.
He had simply given him an impossibly calm look before exiting from his house for the last time.
============================
Of course, he had gone to the shop to look for him.
“Why are you here? I certainly don’t want to see you.”
“Not even if I wanted to buy something?”
It had all started with him frequenting the shop, after all. Didn’t he remember?
“That’s what landed us in this mess, isn’t that right?”
Ah. He did.
“I’m sorr-”
“I don’t want to hear that from you. If that word meant anything to you, you wouldn’t have done what you did. Now get out.”
“We weren’t serious-”
“Get. Out.”
When he went back to the shop the following day, he was told that he had left town for good.
============================
If he had not gone to the tavern that day, he would not have received his message.
The letter had been pushed into his hands when he was in a drunken stupor. A gruff voice had somehow managed to seep through his consciousness, making him tighten his grip on the thick paper.
“Oi. I was told to give you this. You’d better not hurl all over it, alright. Ah, I’ve done my job, so even if you did it wouldn’t matter. For a pretty miffed guy he was willing to pay for postage. What can a messenger like me say?”
============================
Once sober, he had spent a full half hour reading and rereading the message, trying to make sense of it. Eventually, he found himself staring blankly at the elegant hand, for he was unable to interpret the content in any other fashion.
The conditions listed by him were ridiculous. How could they even be met? They were all impossible!
An image flashed through his mind: his brilliant yet gentle smile, the one that was reserved only for him.
The note fluttered to the ground as he buried his face into his hands.
============================
He found himself at the apothecary.
The shopkeeper looked up from his dusty tome when the bell tinkled, straightening his eyepatch.
“Welcome. How may I help you?”
“I was told that you were the best person to consult if one wishes to perform a summoning.”
Matsu’s back stiffened at that, his visible eye narrowing.
“Do you know what you’re doing, boy? Summonings aren’t all fun and games.”
“I’ve thought things through, and I can’t come up with other options.”
“You are aware of how I lost that left eye of mine, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“That’s considered a small price to pay. You stand to lose much more.”
“I know.”
Matsu exhaled loudly and regarded him with a measuring, almost sympathetic look.
“He must be worth it.”
“He is. And much more.”
============================
The chatter of pixies filled the glen when he told them what he wanted.
“Shirt with no seams nor needlework?”
“That is simple!”
”So very simple!”
“But what are you willing to exchange for that?”
“We don’t work for free.”
“Break the circle!”
“We want to play!”
The next thing he knew, his hand was hovering just short of the summoning circle that he had laid out. He snapped back to full awareness, snatching his hand away from the iron dust.
Indignant screeching filled his ears.
“Let us out!”
“Let us out!”
“LET US OUT!”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“You need a favour, you have to repay us!”
“In return for the shirt, you can have my hair.”
Silence fell over the clearing for a brief moment before the chittering resumed, albeit with a touch more mirth.
“Hair?”
“So eager!”
“The Queen would be pleased with the offering!”
“Very pleased!”
“It’s a deal!”
The pixies joined hands, faces screwed up in concentration. A simple white shirt with no seams materialized out of thin air, which they presented to him with a flourish.
The steel blade of his knife made short work of his long hair, which he handed over to the gleeful fae. They stroked the locks almost reverently, before they disappeared with cheeky grins plastered to their faces.
============================
“You have some nerve. Of all places, you have to summon me here.” A dwarf, squat even for his own kind, surveyed the rock cave with barely concealed disgust.
“I have a favour to ask of you.”
“Of course you do. You humans always have favours to ask of us fae. Tell me, what possessed you to give those little imps your hair?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“You are desperate. That is never good.”
“I need a sickle of leather.”
The dwarf arched a bushy eyebrow.
“That is admittedly one of the more unique requests that I’ve received in a long while. And what will I get in return?”
“I have something that might interest you.” He unwrapped a cloth bundle, revealing an uneven chunk of unpolished glass.
The dwarf’s eyebrow rose even further.
“All the gold and jewels in this world cannot tempt me, for we have plenty where I come from. How is glass supposed to clinch the deal?”
“It is true that we have but a fraction of what lies in your caverns of old. But this here is not merely glass. This is a fragment of the heart of a mountain, torn apart by its anger and spat out in a cloud of fire and ash.”
Both present knew that one who possessed even a sliver of mountain heart had power over that landform. That person could cause polished gems to rise to the mountain’s surface with a thought, or bring the whole thing crashing down onto his enemies with a single command.
“No merchant in the land would sell this, for it is worth more than what it can be sold for.”
The dwarf, having moved into arm’s length of the glass, recoiled sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“This reeks of power, more than what one would expect from a fragment so small.”
“The mountain gave it up naught but a scant week ago. Although I must say that it wasn’t happy that a mere human found it.” He rolled up his left sleeve to reveal a healing burn near his shoulder, flesh still red around its edges.
“You would exchange another’s heart for your favour?”
“A fragment, which was freely given. Now, Master Dwarf. What say you?”
He could see the hungry gleam in the creature’s eye, the movement of fabric as his hands clenched and unclenched.
The cloth stilled.
“This seems like a fair enough barter.”
============================
The coil of heather rope on his shoulder had been much easier to obtain. After all, he had set aside enough coin in order to purchase it.
Fingering the rough twisted strands, he took a deep breath before spurring his horse onwards for the next part of his journey.
============================
Months later, he finally arrived at his destination.
Before that day, he had only heard of this remote part of the country mentioned in folktales. The locals avoided the area, claiming that the creatures that inhabited it did funny things to humans’ minds, that they knew of people who crossed that threshold and never came back.
They said that the very bay itself was cursed, that the devil himself lived in the water.
The sea breeze blew through his hair, ruffling the strands that had grown out during his travels. The beach looked peaceful enough, but if the stories were to be believed, he had to remain on his guard.
As he approached the shoreline with his belongings, the whisper of songs floated through the air. A dozen heads rose gracefully above the water surface, turning as one to face him. One of the mermaids smiled and broke away from the shoal, swimming closer to the shore.
“Greetings, traveller. We were wondering what kept you.”
“News travels faster than a man on horseback.”
“But of course. Pixies are awful at keeping quiet, especially if they were given a prize to brag about. Do tell, traveller, what is it that you require of us?”
“You merpeople are the most familiar with the oceans. I would like you to bring me to a plot of land no less than an acre in size, located between the salt water and the sea sand.”
Was it just him, or was the song increasing in volume?
“Indeed, we do know of an acre of land that fits your description, and we can take you there. But as you already know, we fae don’t do things for free.”
“What do you propose?”
“Tell us your name.”
“Takeru.”
The mersong ebbed into a sigh.
“A pity. Farewell then.” The mermaid turned to face the horizon.
“Would my voice be sufficient payment? I know that it isn’t the best, but it’s all I have to offer.”
The merpeople’s keen reverberated through his ears as the mermaid turned back to him, a beatific smile on her beautiful face.
She beckoned him into the water.
============================
Thanks to the merpeople, he was able to breathe throughout his stay on that piece of land.
And what a relief it was. If he had to constantly surface for air, he would have drowned a long time ago.
It seemed like his voice had more value than he had thought.
He soon found that movement was a lot more cumbersome under water, much less the harvesting of sea grass.
He just hoped that the leather sickle would not corrode before he was done.
============================
He did it. He finally made it.
All conversations ceased as villagers stared at him trudging through the small marketplace, dragging two large bundles of sea grass behind him, dripping salt water onto the dirt path.
A shrill scream pierced the air, and all hell broke loose.
Unable to explain himself, he was forced to run away from the fearful mob, dodging the stones that they were hurling at him.
He paused to catch his breath when the yells had faded into the distance.
It looked like it would be a long walk from here.
============================
The apothecary’s bell tinkled when he entered.
“You’re still in one piece, I see.” Matsu watched him collapse into a chair.
He gave the older man a tired smile, relaxing his fingers which had been clenched over rope and cloth. Dull thumps were heard as his belongings fell unceremoniously to the wooden floor.
The shopkeeper shook his head sadly at him before turning to the door behind the counter.
“Was this what you wanted?”
“Not really.” A familiar voice. One that he had not heard for years; one that he had longed to hear for eons.
He lifted heavy eyelids, only to see him standing quietly at the door.
He had sat bolt upright in his chair, all fatigue forgotten. His lips formed his name, but all that was heard was a breath of air exiting from his mouth.
Realization dawned on his face.
“Why? Why did you even- Oh God.”
Within the next few moments, Naoto had strode across the room and pulled him into a fierce hug, not even giving him the chance to stand up.
“I’m so sorry, Naoki. So very very sorry.”
============================
“The crowd is terrible!”
Naoki snapped out of his reverie, turning towards the approaching man with a smile.
“Here, eat it while it’s hot.” Naoto handed his lover a piece of bread, taking a bite from his own.
He accepted the food with another smile, slipping the paper into his pocket.
“I’ve told you countless times to throw that thing away.” A disgruntled scowl was plastered over Naoto’s face as he glared at Naoki’s pocket.
Naoki simply arched an eyebrow and grasped the hem of the white shirt that the other wore. A plain white shirt with no seams.
“It’s different, alright.” Naoto took another bite of food, looking pointedly at the gaiety all around them.
Despite the noise, he did not miss the breathy laugh coming from beside him.
Pairing: Naoki/Naoto/Naoki
Rating: G
A/N: Truth be told, I have no idea how this came about. Scarborough Fair has always been one of my favourite songs, with strangely fascinating themes. As such, I've wanted to do something based on the lyrics for the longest time. Although I've tried to use generic terms, please pardon the awkwardness where East clashes with West.
Edit: If interested, here's the side story.
======================================The fairground was a riot of colours, music filling the air. The sweaty crowd jostled one another, throwing half-hearted insults at whoever stepped on their feet. For it was Fair day, and attendees were too intent on celebration to take anything negative to heart.
One man stood alone in the Fair, a yellowing note clutched firmly in his hand.
============================
He never thought that he would hear from him ever again.
The memory seemed all too fresh, the one containing his expression when his brain fully processed what he saw. He had cursed at himself countless times for not exercising caution, for not pushing Tetsuya away that day.
It would have been much better if he had yelled at him, demanded for answers, or even broken down into tears.
He had simply given him an impossibly calm look before exiting from his house for the last time.
============================
Of course, he had gone to the shop to look for him.
“Why are you here? I certainly don’t want to see you.”
“Not even if I wanted to buy something?”
It had all started with him frequenting the shop, after all. Didn’t he remember?
“That’s what landed us in this mess, isn’t that right?”
Ah. He did.
“I’m sorr-”
“I don’t want to hear that from you. If that word meant anything to you, you wouldn’t have done what you did. Now get out.”
“We weren’t serious-”
“Get. Out.”
When he went back to the shop the following day, he was told that he had left town for good.
============================
If he had not gone to the tavern that day, he would not have received his message.
The letter had been pushed into his hands when he was in a drunken stupor. A gruff voice had somehow managed to seep through his consciousness, making him tighten his grip on the thick paper.
“Oi. I was told to give you this. You’d better not hurl all over it, alright. Ah, I’ve done my job, so even if you did it wouldn’t matter. For a pretty miffed guy he was willing to pay for postage. What can a messenger like me say?”
============================
Once sober, he had spent a full half hour reading and rereading the message, trying to make sense of it. Eventually, he found himself staring blankly at the elegant hand, for he was unable to interpret the content in any other fashion.
The conditions listed by him were ridiculous. How could they even be met? They were all impossible!
An image flashed through his mind: his brilliant yet gentle smile, the one that was reserved only for him.
The note fluttered to the ground as he buried his face into his hands.
============================
He found himself at the apothecary.
The shopkeeper looked up from his dusty tome when the bell tinkled, straightening his eyepatch.
“Welcome. How may I help you?”
“I was told that you were the best person to consult if one wishes to perform a summoning.”
Matsu’s back stiffened at that, his visible eye narrowing.
“Do you know what you’re doing, boy? Summonings aren’t all fun and games.”
“I’ve thought things through, and I can’t come up with other options.”
“You are aware of how I lost that left eye of mine, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“That’s considered a small price to pay. You stand to lose much more.”
“I know.”
Matsu exhaled loudly and regarded him with a measuring, almost sympathetic look.
“He must be worth it.”
“He is. And much more.”
============================
The chatter of pixies filled the glen when he told them what he wanted.
“Shirt with no seams nor needlework?”
“That is simple!”
”So very simple!”
“But what are you willing to exchange for that?”
“We don’t work for free.”
“Break the circle!”
“We want to play!”
The next thing he knew, his hand was hovering just short of the summoning circle that he had laid out. He snapped back to full awareness, snatching his hand away from the iron dust.
Indignant screeching filled his ears.
“Let us out!”
“Let us out!”
“LET US OUT!”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“You need a favour, you have to repay us!”
“In return for the shirt, you can have my hair.”
Silence fell over the clearing for a brief moment before the chittering resumed, albeit with a touch more mirth.
“Hair?”
“So eager!”
“The Queen would be pleased with the offering!”
“Very pleased!”
“It’s a deal!”
The pixies joined hands, faces screwed up in concentration. A simple white shirt with no seams materialized out of thin air, which they presented to him with a flourish.
The steel blade of his knife made short work of his long hair, which he handed over to the gleeful fae. They stroked the locks almost reverently, before they disappeared with cheeky grins plastered to their faces.
============================
“You have some nerve. Of all places, you have to summon me here.” A dwarf, squat even for his own kind, surveyed the rock cave with barely concealed disgust.
“I have a favour to ask of you.”
“Of course you do. You humans always have favours to ask of us fae. Tell me, what possessed you to give those little imps your hair?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“You are desperate. That is never good.”
“I need a sickle of leather.”
The dwarf arched a bushy eyebrow.
“That is admittedly one of the more unique requests that I’ve received in a long while. And what will I get in return?”
“I have something that might interest you.” He unwrapped a cloth bundle, revealing an uneven chunk of unpolished glass.
The dwarf’s eyebrow rose even further.
“All the gold and jewels in this world cannot tempt me, for we have plenty where I come from. How is glass supposed to clinch the deal?”
“It is true that we have but a fraction of what lies in your caverns of old. But this here is not merely glass. This is a fragment of the heart of a mountain, torn apart by its anger and spat out in a cloud of fire and ash.”
Both present knew that one who possessed even a sliver of mountain heart had power over that landform. That person could cause polished gems to rise to the mountain’s surface with a thought, or bring the whole thing crashing down onto his enemies with a single command.
“No merchant in the land would sell this, for it is worth more than what it can be sold for.”
The dwarf, having moved into arm’s length of the glass, recoiled sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“This reeks of power, more than what one would expect from a fragment so small.”
“The mountain gave it up naught but a scant week ago. Although I must say that it wasn’t happy that a mere human found it.” He rolled up his left sleeve to reveal a healing burn near his shoulder, flesh still red around its edges.
“You would exchange another’s heart for your favour?”
“A fragment, which was freely given. Now, Master Dwarf. What say you?”
He could see the hungry gleam in the creature’s eye, the movement of fabric as his hands clenched and unclenched.
The cloth stilled.
“This seems like a fair enough barter.”
============================
The coil of heather rope on his shoulder had been much easier to obtain. After all, he had set aside enough coin in order to purchase it.
Fingering the rough twisted strands, he took a deep breath before spurring his horse onwards for the next part of his journey.
============================
Months later, he finally arrived at his destination.
Before that day, he had only heard of this remote part of the country mentioned in folktales. The locals avoided the area, claiming that the creatures that inhabited it did funny things to humans’ minds, that they knew of people who crossed that threshold and never came back.
They said that the very bay itself was cursed, that the devil himself lived in the water.
The sea breeze blew through his hair, ruffling the strands that had grown out during his travels. The beach looked peaceful enough, but if the stories were to be believed, he had to remain on his guard.
As he approached the shoreline with his belongings, the whisper of songs floated through the air. A dozen heads rose gracefully above the water surface, turning as one to face him. One of the mermaids smiled and broke away from the shoal, swimming closer to the shore.
“Greetings, traveller. We were wondering what kept you.”
“News travels faster than a man on horseback.”
“But of course. Pixies are awful at keeping quiet, especially if they were given a prize to brag about. Do tell, traveller, what is it that you require of us?”
“You merpeople are the most familiar with the oceans. I would like you to bring me to a plot of land no less than an acre in size, located between the salt water and the sea sand.”
Was it just him, or was the song increasing in volume?
“Indeed, we do know of an acre of land that fits your description, and we can take you there. But as you already know, we fae don’t do things for free.”
“What do you propose?”
“Tell us your name.”
“Takeru.”
The mersong ebbed into a sigh.
“A pity. Farewell then.” The mermaid turned to face the horizon.
“Would my voice be sufficient payment? I know that it isn’t the best, but it’s all I have to offer.”
The merpeople’s keen reverberated through his ears as the mermaid turned back to him, a beatific smile on her beautiful face.
She beckoned him into the water.
============================
Thanks to the merpeople, he was able to breathe throughout his stay on that piece of land.
And what a relief it was. If he had to constantly surface for air, he would have drowned a long time ago.
It seemed like his voice had more value than he had thought.
He soon found that movement was a lot more cumbersome under water, much less the harvesting of sea grass.
He just hoped that the leather sickle would not corrode before he was done.
============================
He did it. He finally made it.
All conversations ceased as villagers stared at him trudging through the small marketplace, dragging two large bundles of sea grass behind him, dripping salt water onto the dirt path.
A shrill scream pierced the air, and all hell broke loose.
Unable to explain himself, he was forced to run away from the fearful mob, dodging the stones that they were hurling at him.
He paused to catch his breath when the yells had faded into the distance.
It looked like it would be a long walk from here.
============================
The apothecary’s bell tinkled when he entered.
“You’re still in one piece, I see.” Matsu watched him collapse into a chair.
He gave the older man a tired smile, relaxing his fingers which had been clenched over rope and cloth. Dull thumps were heard as his belongings fell unceremoniously to the wooden floor.
The shopkeeper shook his head sadly at him before turning to the door behind the counter.
“Was this what you wanted?”
“Not really.” A familiar voice. One that he had not heard for years; one that he had longed to hear for eons.
He lifted heavy eyelids, only to see him standing quietly at the door.
He had sat bolt upright in his chair, all fatigue forgotten. His lips formed his name, but all that was heard was a breath of air exiting from his mouth.
Realization dawned on his face.
“Why? Why did you even- Oh God.”
Within the next few moments, Naoto had strode across the room and pulled him into a fierce hug, not even giving him the chance to stand up.
“I’m so sorry, Naoki. So very very sorry.”
============================
“The crowd is terrible!”
Naoki snapped out of his reverie, turning towards the approaching man with a smile.
“Here, eat it while it’s hot.” Naoto handed his lover a piece of bread, taking a bite from his own.
He accepted the food with another smile, slipping the paper into his pocket.
“I’ve told you countless times to throw that thing away.” A disgruntled scowl was plastered over Naoto’s face as he glared at Naoki’s pocket.
Naoki simply arched an eyebrow and grasped the hem of the white shirt that the other wore. A plain white shirt with no seams.
“It’s different, alright.” Naoto took another bite of food, looking pointedly at the gaiety all around them.
Despite the noise, he did not miss the breathy laugh coming from beside him.