fourstrings | the woods are lovely, dark and deep

the woods are lovely, dark and deep

[ What’s so special about this tree, huh?

For Wolfwood, the answer is simple. He’d done a job that pissed off the wrong people, was going to have to move again and dreading packing up all his shit, when a man pale as moonlight and broad in the shoulders as your average wagon had walked up to him like he was trying to put his feet through the earth instead of on top of it and told him he was now a guard. And Wolfwood had laughed – guarding is a shit job, too much sitting around, the payoff too brief when someone finally tries something – until the man produced a bag of more money than Wolfwood had ever seen in one place. He'd said yes, obviously. Before he’d asked what he was to guard.

He should have asked.

He’d roared with laughter when he saw the tree, which had gone… badly. The man who was paying him told him (in a voice that sounded very like he hadn’t used it in a long time) that he had already accepted the payment, and if he wasn’t going to take his job seriously there would be more serious repercussions than paying the money back. So Wolfwood thought… fine. It was out of town, there was a little cottage for him to stay in – not right next to the tree, but close enough to see it. Tough not to, really; it was big, must have been old as hell. And it was… nice, out there. Quiet and green with a well for fresh water, a river running to a lake that would be good for fishing, plenty of game to hunt, and a few wild fruit trees scattered around if he got a sweet tooth. He could use some peace and quiet after things had gone so badly. So he settled in, and became a guard for a tree.

It's still hard to imagine why a tree is worth enough money that Wolfwood will never need to obtain more of it, but he’s grown fond of it. He’s not sure what kind of tree it is; the bark is pale and smooth but knotted and burled in ways that mean Wolfwood almost sees pictures in it when he runs his hands over the trunk. The leaves change colour with the seasons; riotously green in spring and summer, bright and cheerful gold and red in autumn. But trees like that drop their leaves in winter, and this one… doesn’t. Those leaves turn dark but they stay on, providing shelter for all manner of woodland creatures while everything is cold and wet. And he starts to imagine he understands why the moonlight man is so fond of it, too. There’s… a feeling about this tree. Wolfwood find himself returning to it often, sitting under its branches to whittle (other wood, not this one – you don’t take risks like that when you’re paid this much), sometimes talking to it because there’s not another speaking being out here since the one time a dude approached it with an axe and Wolfwood had sent him off with a promise that if he came back the axe would be going through his skull. He gets attached. He rests under it as he makes things, eats his lunch under the shade of its branches. Gets drunk one day, tells a story about his escapades as a street urchin and thinks he hears the leaves rustling on this still and breezeless day, lets himself think that the tree is laughing along with him and pours a little of his wine at its roots like sharing a drink. When summer comes and the sun beats down hot he strips off under its branches, goes for a swim in the lake, and when he returns to the tree to doze while he dries off before dressing again he could swear the branches shift until the shadow of them keeps the sun off him, safe from burning. A woodpecker lands in the branches one day, starts hammering at the bark with its beak, and Wolfwood is nuts enough out here with no company but the tree by now that he swears he feels a wave of disapproval when he pegs a stone at the bird to move it away.

Sorry, tree, he says, but some lunatic paid me good money to make sure you’re not damaged. He runs a hand over its smoothly knotted bark, and tells himself next time he’ll just shout.

It’s a quiet life, but nice. He’s been there nearly a year. Complacent. Which is why it’s the thud of an axe that wakes him, not the sound of people. He rushes out, dressed in the pants he fell asleep in but sword in hand. There’s a brief yelling match – apparently this tree is magical and the men want the wood for – some shit, Wolfwood doesn’t listen. Swings his sword instead. He doesn’t actually want to kill them, because then he’d have to deal with disposing of bodies. That’s probably what gets him, in the end. They leave, injured but not imperilled, but one of them throws an axe at him as a parting shot. Not as bad as it would be if they’d swung it, but he knows from the sick, hot pain deep in his thigh that the bone is broken. It’s some kind of mania that keeps him on his feet until they’re far gone, and only then does he allow himself to go to the ground, drag himself back under the shelter of the tree and wonder how the fuck he’s going to get back to his cabin and tend this wound. He puts a hand over the shallow gash they’d made in the tree like the one he has pressed to his own leg, and counts himself lucky that these idiots apparently didn’t know how to use axes on men or trees. ]

This is a fine fuckin’ mess we’re in, huh?

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Pretty good at wishful thinking, then.

I'm not alone out here, but it does get...lonely. [ he nuzzles against wolfwood's temple, humming a low note again his skin. ] I'm really glad you wanna stay.

Me too.

[ Which is probably a weird response, but it's nice to want something so benign for once. He's so used to wanting to get paid, wanting a job to go smooth, wanting to get out of tricky situations with all his limbs intact - it's nice to just want something nice. ]

How 'bout you? That fish has gotta be just about ready. What are my chances on you wanting to stay after dinner?

[ okay, it's probably a little mean, but vash can't stop the little giggle that escapes. ]

Depends... on how good dinner is! [ and then he's pulling away, but not before pressing another kiss right against wolfwood's forehead. ]

Better get it off the stove before it shits up my chances then, huh?

[ Vash pulled away, but Wolfwood's still moving to put a hand on the small of his back and steer him over to the little table to sit while he plates up! He's not used to trying to make food look pretty, but the bright green of the fiddleheads against the pearly white of the fish does a lot to cover for his ineptitude - enough to make him pleased rather than genuinely nervous as he delivers the food to the table, slipping Vash's plate in front of him like he's serving some fancy lord before he takes his own seat. ]

[ this is… nice! almost like wolfwood wants to show off for him, but not… the way a worshipper might attempt to impress their god? is this… just part of dinner with friends? or does it have more to do with the way that wolfwood kissed him just a little while ago?

either way! it makes a giddy feeling go skittering through vash’s chest, and it’s tough not to try to reel wolfwood back in for another kiss before the other man ends up stepping away to go get the food.

but when he puts the plate down? vash lights up at the sight of it, immediately leaning closer to investigate. ] Wow! You did this with stuff that came from my forest?

Yeah.

[ Proud as punch. When he decided to make a go of this rather than just half-assing the tree protection gig, he made a few trips back into town to get some stuff to fix the cottage up (and get a supply of things he couldn't do for himself, booze and coffee and the like) but these days if he leaves, it's to check in with his brother. He's gotten good off this living off the land thing! ]

Cheated a little with the herbs. Pulled up good-lookin' plants when I found them and brought them back here to grow at the house, but they're still from here.

Seems like this place really has taken a liking to you.

[ beaming over at him! because sure, maybe vash had given things a little nudge here or there, but all the hard work? that was wolfwood!

it really does make it seem like he was made to be here all along!

but there’s still the taste test, right? which is why he takes a fork, grabs himself a bite, and… well, he was gonna try to pause for dramatic effect, but there’s no helping it. he lights up all over again, nodding enthusiastically and only just remembering to swallow before he speaks. ] It’s good! Really good! Wow!

[ Wolfwood's right on the verge of making a smartass and probably arrogant comment about how it's almost as if the forest was getting a little encouragement (he's still convinced that trout swam itself into the trap no sooner than the moment Wolfwood put his hands on the rope), but Vash's reaction stops him short. Pride again, and pleasure at seeing the look on Vash's face. Yeah, it's a gorgeous face - no point pretending about that - but it's the expressions on it, he thinks, that have him so stupid about the other man. The way he flushes and gets wide-eyed when Wolfwood compliments him, they way his eyes sparkle with mischief when he's being cheeky, the way there's no room to doubt that he's genuinely enjoying the meal. Even the worry and sadness he'd seen earlier.

It's like there's no guile about him at all, no desire to hide what he's feeling. It might be the least human thing about him, but Wolfwood adores it. ]

Good food, great wine, and amazing company. I'd say we're doin pretty well for ourselves, here.

We are, huh?

[ and there’s a definite note of pride in it. after all, it’s been a long time, and maybe there was a part of vash that was afraid he’d lost whatever knack he might’ve once had for human companionship!

but this? it’s easy, comfortable, exciting and familiar all at once. not too hard to imagine doing this every night for as long as wolfwood will let him. ]

You win. There’s no way I can leave after a dinner this good.

Good to hear.

[ Very pleased with himself. His ovrconfidence paying off has been a pattern in his life, and it's gonna get him into trouble one day, but it's never worked out as good as this. Too soon to be planning to make a life together, but what the hell? Seems like a once in a lifetime opportunity. A beautiful man, and whole new world of possibility for him to learn about, and everything he needs is here except -

hm. ]

Is there a rule about how many people you can show yourself to? I got a brother. I've been visiting him sometimes, but if I shift out here for good he's gonna want to see the place. Be nice if I could introduce the two of ya.

[ vash blinks. ]

Wh —? Who would make a rule like that?! That’d be so mean!

I dunno. Whoever decided you should be a tree for nearly a year instead of coming out and talkin' to me?

[ There's a little smile on Wolfwood's face, because he's pretty sure the person who decided that is Vash. But no harm done, they're here now, so he doesn't tease too much. ]

Guess what I'm askin' is: would you like to meet my brother?

[ … wait, he’s the one that did that!!

and he’s all set to protest, but that last bit finally sinks in. ]

… oh! Yes! I’d love to!

[ and then a slight pause: ] … should I make something up about how we met?

I wanna say it's up to you. 'cause whether you let him know your whole forest spirit deal is your choice.

Thing is, I've never been able to lie to him.

[ That's... not quite it. ]

I mean, I've tried. He always knows. So if you wanna spin him a story, you're gonna have to do all the talking. For what it's worth, I think he'd be cool about it. Loved stories about fairies and shit when he was little, and he's a real romantic at heart. So if you do wanna tell him, all you need to be ready for is him askin' you about a million questions. And maybe askin' you to show him some magic.

...

And you'll have to wear clothes. He's pretty, uh, easily embarrassed about that kinda stuff.

Wh —!!

[ you’d think, after all the time he spent traipsing around naked before, that it wouldn’t be something vash would blush about, but. here he is: bright pink and spluttering. ]

I would have worn clothes if I was planning to meet you! I wasn’t expecting you to jump in front of axe!

Still took you a while to conjure some up, though.

[ He's grinning, absolutely shameless. ]

Or was that just for my benefit?

[ that pink is only getting pinker. ]

What! No, I just —

[ trying to wave his hands for emphasis! ] There was a lot going on! And you’re very distracting up close!

[ That grin is not going away. If anything, it gets wider. ]

You're pretty distracting up close too.

Even with the robes.

I didn’t mean it like —

[ there’s a pause, and then: ] … well, maybe a little like that.

Good. I want you to find me distracting. In a good way, for preference.

[ That was a dinner to be proud of, but it's not his accomplishments in cooking for a nymph he's thinking of when he meaningfully sets his fork down. ]

[ okay, vash is powerless to stop the little snort of laughter that escapes. ]

I never said if it was good or bad! You’re getting all confident again, huh?

I'm banking on it being charming.

[ And he stands, walks over to Vash and cups a hand at his cheek, leaning doen close enough to kiss - ]

Is it working?

You know it is.

[ and it's no fair that wolfwood wants to tease him! vash isn't gonna stand for it! which is why he reaches up to grab two fistfuls of the other man's shirt, tugging him down the rest of the way to get that kiss. ]

[ Hehehe.

Since he made Vash work for the kiss, Wolfwood does his best to make sure it's worth it. Bites gently at his lip, slips a hand back to graze his blunted nails through Vash's hair and over his scalp. It's designed to get a reaction from Vash, but it gets one from him, too - a low hum of want into Vash's mouth, warm and needy. ]

[ that little bite drags a moan out of vash, and he's eager to deepen the kiss in response. licking greedily into wolfwood's mouth like he wants to claim it, trying to tug him a little closer despite the difference in their positions. ]

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