Honey, I'm Home (Mino)

[Fawn]

3rd of Ash, 121

The sun had taunted her long enough. Beating down on the girl's now sun-bleached locks, the normally bouncy ginger trudged the final steps forward into Kalzasi. Her feet would have bled by now if it hadn’t been for the few caravans she’d hitched rides on. While the occasional hitch hiking soothed her aching feet, her heart had not found such comfort. The trip had, however, given her plenty of time to think and plan.

First, she needed to see Mino and Rickter. Gods she missed them. When she’d first found her parents in their blood soaked home she wished she could have melted into Minos arms, sobbed into Rickters chest. She’d have given anything to just waste away into nothing on the countless sleepless nights since then. And after crying nearly every last drop of sadness out all that seemed left was determination and a bitter cold that wrapped around her heart like thorns.

Her brow tightened as she walked through the city towards the Lekivian Manor. Clutching her backpack, Fawn soon walked up the steps to his family’s home. Her feet were numb. In some ways that was preferable to noticing how swollen they were, but perhaps in some unhealthy, delicious way she enjoyed the pain.

”Miss Brisbane? Here to see Mino I take it?" A voice chimed up, this time not so judgemental as her first meeting. Their guard bowed as Fawn nodded.

”Unfortunately, he is… not well at the moment. May you come back later?” The woman asked, raising up and looking the girl over. Her lip twitched as she took in the country girl's appearance. There was something different about her now. Something less bright, much more… *more*. And yet somehow much *less*. The twitch turned into a tiny smirk that faded the instant it came about. What a delectable, awful mystery this girl was.

But Fawn didn’t notice. As always. Or maybe she just didn’t care this time as her expression softened. ”I much desire to see him now, especially if he is sick.”

The woman shook her head.
”I’m afraid that is impossible. You will have to come back later.”

Fawn frowned with concern laed in her puffy, tired eyes, peering at the manor behind the woman as if she could see through the doors. ”I canna’ come back later.... I will wait in yer foyer. Until he is better, let me at least wait for him.”

The guard paused to consider. The same Brisbane lass whose handwriting had struck such interest within the household that her voice at the cotillion had been not just an added bonus, but yet another reason for the family's eyes to begin following her every move within the city. And now she had something fresher about her, too.

With a creepily softening smile, the woman sighed. ”Alright. You may wait in the foyer as long as you’d like. Do not wander, though, Miss Brisbane. You are a guest and our home is still private.”

Fawn sighed in return and walked through the front door to the manor.

Once the sun had set, whispers of her arrival had started spreading throughout the building. Servants and guests alike began gossiping about the tired looking redhead from the cotillion who had won Minos affections only to disappear completely for an entire season. Who had returned without warning and demanded entrance only to promptly fall asleep on the foyer couch. Many asked why she wasn’t told to leave, but in response the guard simply smirked.

”Mino isn’t the only one with eyes for this one. Leave her be. She may be useful in the end.”

A few hours later Fawn woke up in a cold sweat. The lanterns and lights had been dulled, and the moon shone brightly through a high window illuminating the shadows of the foyer. Across the room a servant stood in wait, staring at Fawn expressionless. After all her only job was to make sure that the country girl didn't wander.

Fawn sat up, shaking lightly, and brought a hand to wipe away the sweat from her brow like she'd done nearly every night for the past month. If she could just see Mino.. maybe, just maybe, the thorns in her chest and coldness in her bones would fade away.

[Mino]

It was with a start that Mino had awoken that morning.

To damp sheets and a pounding headache as he took his first conscious breath of the morning as the sun raised its head over the horizon. He squinted as light filtered through his windows, through the drapery. He might have reveled in the warmth of the rays if he hadn’t felt like he was overheating. His mouth felt dry and when he reached for the pitcher of lukewarm water on the nightstand beside him, his hand bumped into it and sent it crashing. The shattering of glass and splash of water was enough to make him regret waking. Too loud the sounds were as he ducked his head beneath his pillow, smothering the thud of footsteps as servants entered to clean the mess.

The rathari turned onto his side, pillow still around his head to dampen the noise, to watch for a moment. The girl they’d sent in dressed plainly — even for the servants of the house — and smelled of little other than soap. Just the faintest whiff of what must have been cooking in the kitchens lingered on her clothes. But beneath that, even, was the telltale hint of something floral that had his nose twitching. The girl glanced his way, and almost immediately her expression turned sympathetic. As if he were some pitiful creature.

He might as well have been.

Mino wasn’t sure what had made this particular season the worst. Perhaps it was the crest of his rut and therefore was meant to be objectively worse. For him to make the most of this time. He was sweating already and most have looked a sorry, haggard sight. His grin was weak as she finished cleaning, handing him a half-empty glass he hadn’t finished from the night before and a small, round pill. If he tried, he could convince himself it was miniature chocolate. Something with notes of sage and the stink of the alchemical sciences that he knew only a little about.

The unpleasantness of it was magnified by the delirium it forced him into before it made him feel any better. Something that was probably intentional on behalf of Juniper. She’d never seemed eager to be on amicable terms with him, and this only seemed to solidify it. Or maybe this was worse because he’d taken so many pills at once the day before to seem presentable for work. It would make sense that his actions would have consequences such as these, and it was no fault of anyone else but his own. He groaned as he sank deeper into his bed and attempted to find sleep again.

He did not know how much time had passed when he awoke again. This time, to voices. Mino didn’t pay much attention to them until he caught one word through the muffling of the pillow, “Fawn.” His head jerked up — much too fast. The world danced around him and he was forced back down. That couldn’t have been right. The woman had been gone a full season. Probably off doing something — well, not with him. He blinked, tried to put his thoughts in order to maybe get out of bed to see what that was about.

Before Mino could do so, his door opened and the same servant from earlier that morning came to give him another pill. Her expression was much the same, though her cheeks reddened as he looked up at her through his lashes and overgrown bangs to accept the pill with an open mouth. Primal urges sated by medication for only so long beckoned him to grab the poor girl’s hand. An ample substitute for the one he wanted most to his instinct-addled brain. But he was distracted by the slide of the pill down his throat and the water spilling from the corner of his lips as she held the glass for him to drink from and his chin to hold him steady.

She voiced words of protest as he lay back down and pulled the blankets over his head.


Maybe he should have listened to her and ate when she’d said. Feverish was his stare up at the ceiling when he next opened his eyes. Aches and chills took him as if he’d gotten some sickness. The cold sweat was back as he writhed on his bed, attempting to get comfortable. The servant did not enter with another pill, and he supposed that served him right. He should have eaten something.

He slipped — tumbled, really — to the floor from the bed. Mino hissed, letting the sound drift into the silence of his room before he stumbled his way to finding something appropriate to wander the halls in. Hair askew, bags under his eyes, and a fever he wouldn’t be able to sweat out; he’d made his fair share of idiotic decisions in the last few days. And for what? It to culminate in the current hallucination that graced his mind as he entered the foyer, drawn by the lights.

The servant watching over Fawn glanced his way before bowing and making an exit.

“If this is a prank.” His voice wavered, hoarse and uncertain. “This is a very well done one.”

[Fawn]

If she could reach the moon, would she stay there? She often wondered that of the many moons in the sky, if any had people living on them. If there were, they'd probably be more peaceful. To live amongst the stars must be grand indeed, much more grand than gems or jewels or even fancy titles. Was it warm? Being closer to the sun, it must be. Was it burning? Or was the depths of space so frigid cold you couldn't feel your own breath leave your lungs? Something about the thought of that was pleasant.

Footsteps echoing in the hallways jolted the ginger from her position on the couch to stand upright. In the back of her mind she knew it was him before she could even see him. But it was upon hearing his voice and finally seeing his form slip into the moonlight and candlelight of the foyer that she jolted forward with wide eyes and embraced her rathari- hers- in a hug tighter than she realized she desired.

"Mino!" Her voice was strained and hoarse but not from any sickness. It was like the pain of the past few weeks had clutched her throat and threatened to come bubbling up into a fit of tears. A few did slip from her lashes and down her chin, but she didn't raise her head from burying in his chest. He smelled musky, sweet, sickeningly so and yet she couldn't- wouldn't let go.

"I'm sorry I didn't write... I'm sorry I was gone so long.." A tremble in her voice betrayed the coldness she'd felt up until this very moment. It hurt. Guilt, shame, anger, worry, and desire for him all wound up tight in her chest among the myriad of emotions that clenched her heartstrings. Finally she looked up. Her eyes were musty with tears that she held back from falling and only made her dark circles all that more prominent on her face.

"I hear ye was sick... what's wrong? Can I help?" There she was. That all too classic Fawn-like innocent concern spilling from her lips and wrapping around the two of them. She'd forgotten where she was. She didn't care about decorum, or what the servants thought as they rushed by whispering of the scene. She didn't care that her dress was still dusty from the trip or that her boots tracked in manure and the dirt of the roads she'd traveled or that she was pressing all of herself against him like she could melt into him. All she care about in that moment was him. And that in itself was freeing. For the smallest of moments she had finally forgotten about her parents.

She placed a pale hand against his forehead, briefly jolting it back with a soft gasp. "Yer burnin' up.. Let’s get you back to bed, aye?”

[Mino]

A jolt coursed through him as her arms around his middle. Mino flinched, almost drawing back. No, this — this was a cruel joke. A cruel jab at the vulnerability induced by a natural phenomenon mixed with a manufactured solution. There, on the tip of his tongue, was a bitter chuckle as he placed a hand on whoever this was—

He stopped short. He knew this scent. He knew this voice and the way it said his name. He knew the feel of this body against his. It was something just short of spiritual as he wrapped his arms around her, sank into her familiar warmth. She was speaking and he was listening — but not to her words. More to the beat of her heart through her skin and the way she spoke. How long had he yearned for her? The stretch of hours into days and she was nowhere near. Mino might have been more bitter if he weren’t so delirious.

But he was no more than putty. A kitten in the hands of a fleeting owner. He would mewl, even, if he could. Instead, he trilled. A sound not far from the chirp of a bird mixed with a whistle, a vocal entreaty for her to stay don’t leave again. She parted them — not really; they were still pressed together like fish in a barrel — to feel his forehead. Burning up; he’d hardly noticed. Gone was his attention to the details of his...illness. Instead, it fled to her face.

Fawn looked tired. She looked beautiful — she always did — but tired. Like something had disturbed her source of boundless energy and knocked it off-center. He wondered what that might have been. Another Havershim? He clenched his jaw at the thought. No, not another one. Her scent wasn’t as sour as it had been when she had been in the palace, under the care of the prince. But something else that mingled, fermented. His eyes narrowed, the normal coquettish glint to his eyes and the corners of his smirk lost for a moment.

Mino didn’t mind being — well, fawned over by her. The flutter of his heart a touch faster than it had been before, wild palpitations provoked by the presence in front of him. Then, that skirtingly coy turn of his lips returned. The curve of his eyes as his smile forced them closed.

“To bed? Fawn Brisbane, you’ve not seen me in a full season.” He drew in a breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as her scent invaded his senses once more. To be so close again. “And the first thing you want to do is take me to bed?”

His grin widened. “Of course, I’d let you take me to bed.” Despite the easy agreeance, he rested his head on her shoulder, kept his arms wrapped around her. Moving him would be hard, harder still with the vibration of his purr coursing through her.

[Fawn]

Had it not been for the moonlight silhouetting her, the weariness and weight of the past season may have been more apparent hanging from her shoulders. But while he was heavy, there was something about the sparkling of his purr in her ears that made helping him down the hallway less tedious than she’d have thought. Though, it was still a sight. The short, pale redhead nearly dragging the one and only Mino Lekivian down the hallway.

Her cheeks would have flushed if not for the chill still remaining in her bones. She didn’t like how quiet it was.

”Mino… Are ye cross with me?” Fawn bit her lip as the sounds of their footfalls filled the manor, taking each turn he gestured to and making sure to keep her feverish man upright.

”Should I make it up to ye somehow?” She paused, chewing on the end of her lip as they rounded a corner and hobbled into the threshold of Mino’s room. It was as spacious as she’d expected, though the poor lighting in the room made it near impossible to see anything but the bed and a few silhouettes of furniture.

Fawn sat him on the bed, plopping right next to him while a servant rushed in to place a small white rag next to them with a pitcher of steaming water. The woman exited quickly, but not before taking a worrying glance at the pair.

”Careful, lay back.” Fawn cooed, her hand cupping under his neck and helping to lay him down. She missed touching him. But the tragedy of her year fought with the euphoria of being back with him. Her head ached.
”Now, how did ye go and get yerself this sick? It seems the whole house is attending to ye in some way… even as far as keepin' me away until ye came out of yer own accord.” Her lips pouted as she mumbled her complaints at him.

But now the room was eerily silent. Her ears rang out into the deafening silence of his chambers. If he wasn’t sick, perhaps she’d have realized how they might have looked at that moment; with a perfectly sleepy Fawn looming over the shifter, who lay half naked below the woman who now smelled of lavender and rain clouds. Even though it had not rained in weeks.

”Are ye cold? Do ye need more blankets?” She asked, pulling the blankets up to his chest and letting her fingers rest on his bare chest that peeked out from beneath the curtains of his robe. They lingered. Maybe too long, but certainly not long enough. It could never be enough with him.