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BRISHEN & FRALICK

LOCATION: Village of Drusilla

TIME: Medieval Fantasy of sorts.

Male Human Reader x Male Changeling (both cis).

As much as I am always down for good monster romp, I’ve got a craving for something sweet and fluffy. This is to be a fluff filled story for Aisley’s younger brother Fralick. This has been on the back of my mind lately and now has jumped forward from all of my other projects because it makes me happy to think about and I hope it will give you something sickeningly sweet to read about. There will be time jumping between Fralick’s memories to the current timeline I have created. I hope you enjoy. ^_^

Changeling, a child believed to have been secretly substituted by Fae, Trolls, or other creatures for the parents’ real child in infancy. The reasons for the substitution could be anything between wanting a human child to be raised as a servant or pet, to extending the mortality for a higher Fae or being, to the non-human baby having some sort of deformity or stillbirth and the Fae not wanting its own child for unknown reasons and looking for a way to get rid of the infant or perhaps saving it from a fate worse than death . . .

As it always did in the late autumn, rains were incessant in the small village of Drusilla which meant it was difficult for the residents in the village to do much but provided the Fae and other creatures that resided in the Violet Oaks to run amuck. Around this time every year everyone in the village liked to spin wild tales and stories to scare children, or if the town has nothing better to do, which more than often than not is the case, than cause a bit of gossip and cause a little drama to talk about; even at the expense of others. This year, however, was very different with all the Holy Knights and Dark Knights staying in town, the Driders protecting the village, and some of the village girls either going missing or falling in love with a few non-human counterparts to find their happily ever after. Needless to say there was plenty to keep the village occupied this year. Fralick couldn’t be happier that there were rumors and gossip finally being spread about other people other than the Yates.

Tucked away from the current dropping downpour outside in the top of the barn of the Yates’s farm, spread out on blankets on a pile of hay behind the tall hay bales, Fralick sat staring out the square window while his sleeping prince slumbered away in his lap. His fingertips lazily ran through Brishen’s curls, to help soothe his darling love into a deeper slumber. It had been a rough few months for everyone, especially those who owned livestock, but it had been especially difficult for Brishen. With the Witch Hunters disguised as Holy Knights snooping about the village, his poor love hadn’t slept much. Daring a glance down at Brishen’s soft and dark purple sleeping face, the rise and fall of his back with each of his slow sleeping breaths as he clung to Fralick’s waist made his heart jump.

He held his breath to keep from squealing at the precious sight of the elegant being with star-like freckles that handsomely painted his face, shoulders, and trailed constellations down his midnight purple body that made up his lover. Releasing a quick sigh, just enough to compose himself, he pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head before resuming his fingers spinning circles in his hair. A content sigh escaped Brishen as Fralick rested against the hay bale and turned his gaze back to the rain outside. If he stared any longer at the handsome Changeling in his lap he might burst at the seams.

Trying to contain the high rung emotions of seeing his lover curl closer to him, he tried to focus on the rain and somehow absorb the cold from it inside the warm little nest they had made for themselves. Fralick was irrevocably happy with how his life has turned lately. His father’s health has returned since Aisley’s colossal Dark Knight Orc has decided to stay in town and finish their courtship – they were to be wed in the spring – and even his brother Jayroe has found happiness with a family of Driders that linger on the outskirts of town. Jayroe had mentioned something to him the other night after dinner, requesting that the family go with him to meet them. He was most envious of both his sibling’s courage to show off their love for their monster counterparts, his father had been most accepting of them, even he and Brishen. However, it was a secret to the rest of the village for the time being while some politics were being established and weeds being uprooted from the soil. Though Fralick was proud of his lover and wanted nothing more than to show him off to the world, this village has been especially cruel to him ever since he was born into the world. All their lives it had been like a nasty rumor weed to come up with something new and horrible to paint him out as a monster for what happened.

It was rumored that when the twelfth child and only boy of the Yates farm was born it was still and lifeless until the mother pleaded until her dying breath to save the child. As soon as Mrs. Yates passed, a loud wet cry came from the baby as it took its first breath into the cruel world. The Yates did not bring Brishen to church on Sundays and they had rarely allowed any visitors into their home for nearly three years; it was as if they held some sort of deep dark secret. Father Isaac had not taken kindly to being denied a christening for the child, but the Yate girls were all protective of their baby brother and would not allow outsiders near him if they could help it. Even Farmer Yates was ridiculously careful in allowing his only son to do any sort of work on the farm.

There were whispers that the child was deformed, that he had a sickly and weak body, that he was a curse upon the house. Remembering the awful whispers and terrible words, Fralick’s hand stopped stroking the long black curls atop Brishen’s head to press him closer to his chest, as if to protect him from the despicable things from the past. Even though they were eighteen and seventeen, practically grown and able to do as they pleased and take on the world for themselves, that was how many in the village still saw Brishen and they held no remorse in their actions as they treated him as such. But, oh god, how wrong they were! He was not deformed but a majestic being far better than their petty minds could comprehend, strong, able, clever, and more capable than what they all gave him credit for. His heart swelled with pride as the handsome being that rested in his arms was his and no one could take him from him. He only wished he would have acted on his feelings sooner rather than drag it out for three long ridiculous years. . .

///

Fralick was thirteen and Brishen twelve when they met for the first time. The rumors were worse then, louder too but Fralick had already decided not to listen to anything the villagers had to say after Thomas Myrtin said some disgusting things about his sister; the village idiot learned a hard lesson from both he and Jayroe to never say such filth again. Fralick had gotten in severe trouble with his father and was put on the task of feeding and herding the dairy cows out to the fields. He had a black eye, bruised a gruesome blue, he finally lost that last baby tooth from his mouth, and was far from attractive. Still royally upset about his punishment for defending his sister he had stomped all the way out to the fields and took the cows out to the fence line that divided the Brislin and Yates’s pastures from one another. There was an old apple tree that had grown up around the wooden gates and provided shade on both sides of the fence. He had been so angry when he stalked up to the tree that he hadn’t noticed the other occupant of the shade tree until his fist met with the tree and several apples fell from the branches landed on his head and littered the ground.

There was a slight hiss of pain from the other side of the tree that made Fralick jump and step backwards on a fallen apple and fell flat on his back. “Ow!”

Winded from the fall and still fueled by anger, he glared up at the one who startled him and instantly froze as his hazel eyes locked with an enchanting brown pair with gold flecks staring back at him. Thick black curls framed his gorgeous face and dark skin free from any imperfection and Fralick was mesmerized by the boy before him. The boy was in similar work clothes as Fralick, a flannel shirt and overalls and work boots, standard work clothes, but the boy in front of him wore it so much better than him and Fralick suddenly felt embarrassed by his untidy appearance. He’d never seen this boy in his entire life, and yet somehow, he knew that this was Yates's boy. He was too clean, but his build and his hands told the stories of a boy who knew how to work; even if there were eleven other helping hands that did the same work.

“What are you doing punching the tree for?” He asked and leaned his arms against the fence. “What’d it do to you?”

Still stuck in his stupor, Fralick had blinked several times before he looked away with a grimace. “The tree didn’t do nothin’.”

“Then why did you punch it?” His perfect nose crinkled slightly as he laughed.

Fralick rubbed the back of his head where it was sore. “I was mad.”

“Why?”

A scowl crossed his face as the lingering angry feelings resurfaced. He pouted and crossed his arms and legs, reminding himself why he was out here. “My dad sent me out here to watch the cows.”

The boy with the golden flecks propped his chin on his hands, his eyes widening with an eagerness and looking forward to a story. “Why?”

“‘Cause I punched Thomas.” He growled, his hands pinching at his elbows.

“The butcher’s son?” Those brown eyes widened, the gold within them almost seemed to dance at the idea. “Why?”

“He talked bad about my sister.” His teeth gritted as he glared at the grass around him. “She’s turned him down every time he’s asked to court her or dance with her, so now he’s actin’ like his father and talkin’ bad about others.”

“Oh.” The handsome boy’s smile faded, his brows furrowing as he frowned. “I don’t like Thomas. He’s mean to my sisters too.”

“Then you should punch him too!” Fralick jumped up to his feet. “My father always says to defend the woman’s honor!”

“I – I would.” The boy’s cheeks flushed red as he looked away, “b – but they don’t seem to care about what he has to say about them, a-and they get mad at me when I wanna do stuff like that.”

The boy used his black curls as a way to hide his face from Fralick, almost as if he were ashamed or something, and avoided looking at him. Fralick raised a brow at the boy but didn’t press the matter more. If this boy was Yates's son, then that probably meant that his sisters were just as overprotective as Aisley was of him and Jayroe.

“I’m Fralick.” He held his hand out to the boy and did his best to smile. “Fralick Brislin.”

The head of black curls whipped around, his brown eyes with golden flecks wide as he stared at the hand offered out to him. For a long time, the kid just stared at his hand, as if he wasn’t sure what to do or that he hadn’t ever received a handshake. Blinking twice, he reached out his hand and shook Fralick’s with a nice firm grip that felt like working hands.

“Brishen.” He laughed nervously as if he didn’t like the way his name sounded. “Brishen Yates, b-but my sisters call me Brish.”

“Nice to meet you.” He responded with his own nervous laugh as he took his hand back and stuffed it in his pocket. “So, why’re you out here?”

“None of my sisters wanted to take the sheep out.” He frowned, his lower lip poking out in a pout, his cheeks slightly puffed. “They all took to the shearing and looms and the weaving and the dying barrels and shooed me out the door before my pa tried to take them out.”

Fralick wasn’t aware there was that much work to do on a sheep farm. Then again, with how many sheep they had, there was plenty of work to do. Part of him wanted to know what else there was to do with sheep, but another part of him didn’t know what to really ask.

“I don’t mind it though.” Brishen gave a shrug as he propped his chin on his shoulder and glanced back at the sheep. “It gets me out of the house for a few hours and I like it out here.”

“Don’t you go into town?” Fralick blurted as he tilted his head to the side. Brishen’s brown eyes cut to the side as he looked at Fralick before licking his lips nervously.

“No.” He shook his head as he stood up straight, ready to turn to leave. His hands clung to the fencepost like an anchor though, as if he weren’t really ready to leave yet. “I get to next year though, I’ll be old enough where my sisters won’t have to worry so much. . .”

Fralick couldn’t help but make a face. What was there to be worried about in this do-nothing village? There was hardly any crime except for stupid Thomas and his gang of bullies, even then the boy looked as though he could handle himself. “Worry about what?”

Brishen paled a bit, worry evident in those brown eyes like he said something he wasn’t supposed to. “N-Nothing. Look, it was nice meeting you but I gotta go–”

Still to this day Fralick had no idea what compelled him to reach over the rails and grab Brishen’s hand the way he did, but some part of him just knew that if he had let him run away like he wanted to he’d never see him again. The moment he looked into those golden flecks though, something stirred in his chest and it hurt worse than his black eye, but strangely good too as a strange electric zap passed between them. They held each other’s gaze before Brishen shook his hand and with a whistle ran off with his sheep.

Fralick regrettably didn’t see much of Brishen after that, but whenever he was there, they’d talk for a bit before Brishen would whistle to the sheep and go off. From what little he was able to gain about Brishen, Fralick learned that there was plenty to do when you had nearly three dozen sheep and that his sisters were not shy to work or to put him to work. It took him years to be a part of the family business thanks to his eleven older sisters doing so much work, but his father had insisted on putting him to work. The other thing that Fralick learned about Brishen though was that he didn’t smile often., which left him with a challenge every day to do something to try to get him to crack a smile.

He’d done a lot of things, a lot of stupid things at that, to make him laugh or crack a smile. He could make him laugh, but he would just hide his smile behind his hands until he calmed down. He had a pretty good life and Fralick thought they were becoming good friends, but he still couldn’t figure out why the guy just wouldn’t smile. He worried for a long time that he had offended him, even apologized for it, but Brishen said he hadn’t and that there was nothing to forgive. It nearly drove him crazy and pushed him that much harder to get him to smile. From then on out, though, Fralick learned to love taking the cows out to the pasture for the chance of seeing Brishen to make him smile or laugh. It took him a whole daggum year before he even caught a glimpse of a smile though.

///

The year he turned fourteen he’d gotten into more tussles with Thomas than a badger with a mongoose. The village idiot just didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut and just like his father didn’t take rejection very well from anyone. Thomas liked to throw weight around and see what trouble he could stir up with his insults and if it weren’t for Jayroe being with him to rip him from the fights a lot of the times he’d probably be nearly dead or suffering from broken limbs; it was fine though, Thomas had broken his nose enough times to know that he liked pain. Still, he’d gotten into more fights with Thomas in the previous three days that the butcher was demanding some sort of payment for all the medical bills for his son; not that they would pay them. Thomas always started the fights, and like a fool Fralick jumped into the fight and often finished them.

Like usual whenever he got in trouble, his father made him sit and hold down the fort or do some other kind of chore he didn’t particularly like, this time he had been forced to sit at the stall at the farmer’s market and sell cheese and soaps. Hardly anyone had spared him a glance or even looked at the pretty soaps his sister had made as they were all too busy getting other things. It was the early spring and everyone was rushing to buy seeds for soil and yarn for socks and blankets to be made for the winter. It didn’t help that he’d wrinkle his nose every time someone would pass, especially when it was obvious that they needed a bar of soap. It was a pleasant enough day and Fralick was able to sit back in his chair and watch the villagers pass.

Aisley had her arm looped through Idra’s arm, the baker’s daughter, and they were giggling together as they shared a pastry and wandered off to another stall. Jayroe stood at the blacksmith’s stall trying to barter the price down for a few pairs of horseshoes that the man was trying to oversell. His father was off discussing something with Father Isaac and Farmer Yates, there were occasional glances thrown his way, but Fralick did his best not to think about what it was they tried to blame him for this time. Thomas stirred up a lot of trouble and was doing everything he could to try to get Fralick out of town; not that it would work. Despite the fights that he got into, Fralick was always good about helping the elders and working hard and his father wouldn’t ship him off when there were so many cows swollen with calves.

Fralick rolled his eyes as he turned his attention back to the stalls and looked across the way at Yates's busy stall. All eleven of the Yates girls flitted back and forth getting the desired wool for customers, advertising as loudly as they could, and bartered with the villagers as they came to look at their wares. With how boisterous they all were it made Fralick seriously appreciate only having a single sister, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have that many sisters he had no clue how Brishen put up with them all. As the Yates girls moved back and forth, a head of black curls caught his eye. Brishen was on the other side of the yarn hangings counting coins and placing the money in its proper order as well as arranging the receipts and the trade ins. Fralick had to do a double take to make sure he hadn’t imagined him there. It was the first time he’d ever seen him in town, and it had been the first time since the cold passed and the snow melted that he saw him.

He knew he had stared too long when the gold flecks in those brown eyes suddenly looked back at him. Brishen tilted his head and raised his hand to wave, but Fralick’s heart jumped in his chest and the cool spring air sent goosebumps on the back of his neck as his face warmed and he tore his gaze away. He covered his face with his hand as he turned away and had to take a few deep breaths to calm his heart.

How could he have gotten caught staring like that?

Why did he look away?

Why was his heart pounding in his chest?

Was he getting hay fever or something?

He silently prayed and hoped that Aisley or Jayroe would return soon so he could go over and say something. However, when he moved his hand to steal a peek, he was not prepared for the vision of Brishen standing in front of his cheese and soap stall. His breath caught in his throat, the back of his neck burned, and intelligent words refused to come to mind as he opened his mouth to speak but wheezed instead. Brishen’s brow furrowed, the corner of his mouth twitched like he was going to smile and laugh, but he quickly bit his lip and covered his mouth. “Long time no see.”

“Y-Yeah.” Fralick nodded his head vigorously with a gulp. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

His mouth dipped down in a frown and Fralick had no idea how to remedy this situation. “I told you I would be able to come into town this year.”

“You did.” He laughed nervously and placed his hand on the back of his neck, his cool fingers nearly steamed when they touched his burning neck. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you.”

Brishen’s cheeks puffed out as he started to pout before he huffed and shrugged his shoulders. “So what are you selling?”

Again, intelligent or clever words even refused to come to mind as Fralick watched Brishen pick up a soap and sniffed it. His eyelids fluttered as he inhaled the lavender honey soap his sister had made, and the serene look that crossed his face was going to give Fralick a heart attack. How could one person do such a simple act so flawlessly, so elegantly so –

“I think I’d like to get a few bars of this.” He tapped his finger against the bar of soap and Fralick blinked as the spell that was around them somehow broke.

“S-Sure.” His voice cracked and he quickly ducked down behind the table to grab a burlap sack. “How many?”

“I’ll take five of these.”

Brishen handed the lavender honey soap over to Fralick and the tips of his fingers barely grazed the palm of his hand. He gasped and suddenly found it very uncomfortable to sit and forced himself to look away. A spark went through him as he mechanically took the soap from Brishen and carefully wrapped it in wax paper and placed it into the burlap sack. Brishen had picked up and smelled the other two soaps, olive oil lime and rosey peony, his sister had made and ordered five of each and ended up with fifteen bars of soap. Fralick did his best not to judge the quantity that he was purchasing, then again, there were eleven women and two men living in the house, perhaps they needed more. Regardless, Fralick was considerably pleased that he would be making some sort of sale for the day. When the fifteen soaps were properly wrapped and placed in the burlap sack, Fralick started to close it up when Brishen gave him a look.

“Which soap do you use?”

The question had caught him completely off guard that he froze. He wasn’t sure what sort of face he was making, he hoped not to be judgmental, but he could hardly comprehend why he needed so much soap. Still, he had a job to do to sell to a customer and pointed out his favorite one that his sister made almost especially for them. “Oak Salt.”

Brishen’s golden flecks rolled over to the tawny brown one he pointed to, picked the first slab off the top and gave it a good sniff. His shoulders rose and fell and a slight groan as his lashes fluttered again. The groan that escaped him made Fralick suck in a gasp as a hazy look dimmed those golden flecks as he handed the bar of soap to him. “This’ll be the last one.”

Fralick gulped and nodded and tried to breathe slower, more evenly to calm his racing heart as he wrapped the bar of soap in wax paper and placed it with the other soaps. There was a semblance of softness on Brishen’s face after he paid for the soap and accepted the burlap sack from Fralick. He wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not, but he was certain that Brishen almost hugged the sack upon receiving it. Little else was said between them as they shared a soft gaze with one another before Brishen turned on his heel to rejoin his sisters. Fralick’s heart beat louder in his chest as he watched Brishen walk away and had to fight the urge of jumping over the table to grab his hand and somehow keep him there.

His heart didn’t beat warm and loud for long though as Brishen suddenly stopped in his path and stared at the village idiot standing at the yarn stall. His sisters were like angry barn cats with their packs arched and agitation evident on all their faces as they glared at Thomas. Fralick’s blood suddenly ran cold, his hand clenched into a fist as he watched the happenings at the stall across from him. Thomas, being the pig that he was, came sauntering past the Yates’s sisters, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the clan of spinsters.”

“Unless you’re here to learn manners or how to wear your clothes properly, you best be gettin’ on Thomas.” The oldest snapped with gritted teeth as she ushered her sisters behind her. Maire Yates was not one to be messed with, she had given the blacksmith a concussion with a single head bash when he had gotten too handsy at the tavern.

“Surely you can find something more entertaining to do with all this string,” he shrugged and picked up a spool of red yarn. “Much more entertaining things.”

Maire snatched the spool of yarn from him and quickly tossed it to one of her sisters while glaring fiercely at the idiot Thomas. “Get out Thomas, we’ll not be doing any business with the likes of you.”

“Your loss.” He scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, dusting them off like he could have cared less. “If your business skills are anything like your bedroom skills it’s no wonder you aren’t married yet. You might as well just stay a spinster.”

Fralick sucked in a gasp as he watched Brishen shove his bag of soap to his oldest sister and stand between her and Thomas. “Get away from my sisters!”

Fralick’s heart suddenly hammered in his chest as ice ran through his veins. Thomas’s nose wrinkled and made his face uglier than normal as he looked the glaring Brishen up and down. Thomas sneered as he leered over Brishen. “What’s this then? Have you brought the demon bastard out to play? Wanna have a go with a pretty face like that?”

It happened faster than Fralick could think about his actions, before he even blinked he acted in a blinding white hot anger that always grew whenever he was around the village idiot. It was faster and harder than anything he’d done before, had to be the adrenaline rush or the hammering of blood in his veins, regardless of whatever it was that had possessed him, Fralick had sent Thomas stumbling and tumbling flat on his face into the creek on the other side of the yarn stall. Before Thomas could even reach out and grab Brishen’s shirt, Fralick had bolted over his soap table, dashed across the way and with a leap like an angry hell cat jumped and punched Thomas’s face with a bar of soap, making sure it landed in the idiot’s mouth. He roared his hands clenched into fists, his body rigid, “Wash that filthy mouth of yours, Thomas!”

The loud splash of Thomas landing in the creek suddenly made the whole market still in silence as Thomas’s friends, the butcher and Father Isaac came running over to see the commotion. Fralick hadn’t even realized he was fuming, his breath hard, his teeth grit, and something feral seething within him at the thought of Thomas hurting Brishen. It wasn’t until his father clapped his hand on his shoulder that woke him up from his fit of anger and he realized what’d he’d done. There was no remorse as he looked into his father’s eyes, and his father did not look at him with anger or dismay and merely patted him on the back. Both he and Farmer Yates had seen what’d happened and were willing to defend him for defending his daughters. All of the Yates girls gave him hugs, a few even gave him kisses, but he didn’t really feel them. His eyes were focused on Brishen, making sure he was okay, all the while those golden flecks seemed to dance in the sunlight and he finally saw a smile. It was tugged to the left and revealed his pearly whites, his canines a little longer, his teeth a little pointed, but he finally smiled. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen on the most handsome being in the world. His heart had never raced so fast before, and a part of him just knew it had set its sights on him that day.

///

After that whole incident with the village idiot, Fralick wasn’t allowed in town unless it was absolutely necessary for a whole year. The butcher spouted some sort of nonsense about never wanting to do business with them and demanded some sort of compensation for the damage accosted to his son, but it was a foolish idea and would have nothing from the Brislins nor the Yates. The Yates were particularly upset about it and tried their best to defend him, but it was all for the best to allow some sort of quiet in the village and Fralick hadn’t particularly cared to go back. It gave the villagers plenty to gossip about and keep their mouths running about him instead of Brishen. Besides, he’d much rather go out in the fields and keep watch of the cows while Brishen watched over the sheep; and so they did. Fralick had never been a morning person, hated getting out of his bed as most fifteen-year-old teenagers do, but after he discovered that Brishen got up early to take the sheep out, well, he suddenly found a reason to be out of bed earlier.

The cows ended up in the best shape, their milk being sweeter and stronger, and even the calves came out healthy and strong thanks to the early morning visits; and Fralick gained the best friend of his life too. He and Brishen have almost been inseparable, and he was surprised he still had a heart in his chest after how loud it was whenever they hung out together. Every day he seemed to beat faster, yearn more for the presence of another, and his feet almost couldn’t move fast enough to get to him. It was nice having a friend, especially having someone his own age and being the youngest too who understood all of the trials that came along with it. The best part about it all was that Fralick saw more of Brishen’s smile, and finally heard his laughter. He had a gorgeous smile and Fralick was greedy enough to want to keep it all to himself, but he’d rather see him happy.

As he rose on a particularly cool spring morning, Fralick wasn’t as chipper as usual nor was he in the best of moods. The night before at dinner both Jayroe and Aisley brought up the Spring Festival and wanted to know who he would be taking; bold of them to assume that he wanted to go at all. Since the incident with Thomas and he created a strong friendship with the Yates, both of his siblings were taking bets on which of the Yates girls he was interested in taking to the Spring Festival.

When he got to the apple tree, it was very strange because Brishen was not there. It was very rare that he ever got there before him, it typically meant that one of his sisters had him do some of their chores before he could take the sheep out. For once he hadn’t minded getting there early and having a little time to himself, to think and just listen to the silent calm that came with the early mornings. The world was a little yellow, the sun just barely peeking in the sky to burn away the mists and the fog. The tall grass bowed forward and bent backward to stretch and greet the day while slinging their morning dew against Fralick’s ankles as he went to the fence that divided the properties and perched himself there.

The cows grazed lazily, crooning their morning song, and helped to fertilize the earth as they walked. Fralick had grown to know their habits and merely watched them and kept count while distressing about what to do for the Spring Festival. There was only one that he wanted to go to the festival with and it wasn’t any of the girls. They were all pretty, they were all sweet in their own way, but none of them made him feel the things he did like when he was with Brishen. In fact, he couldn’t recall a time where anyone made him feel the way he had like Brishen did. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask Brishen to go to the festival. What if there was a girl in the village he wanted to take? He didn’t like to think about that though as a strange burning feeling captivated his heart.

There was a sudden brush of air to his ear that caused him to jump and fall from his perch and listen to the lilt of laughter that came from the very being that seemed to captivate him as he landed on the ground. He chuckled and held his hand out to Fralick. “Someone sure was eager to get here this morning.”

Fralick tried not to think about the way Brishen’s hand felt on his own as he stood to his feet again. “Whereas someone got here late.”

“Sorry,” he rubbed the back of his neck and those golden flecks were cast to the ground. There was a faint sign of crimson painting his cheeks and running down his neck and into the collar of his flannel shirt. “I had trouble waking up this morning. . .”

Fralick really liked that look and wondered if he’d ever be able to make him blush like that for a different reason. Brishen quickly changed the topics as those golden flecks suddenly flicked to him. “So what made you so lost in thought?”

“What?” Now it was Fralick whose face flushed and his neck burned with embarrassment as he turned his face away.

“Are you still sleeping?” He snorted a laugh. “I called out to you twice and you didn’t move like you were seriously thinking about something.”

It was almost like an opportunity had been handed to him, and he wanted to handle it with care for the fear of somehow losing him. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words never seemed to want to come properly when he was around Brishen and quickly closed his mouth. Too suddenly, Brishen held his face in his hands and left Fralick to only look at him. His voice was soft, coated in concern. “Are you okay?”

His heart was nearly bursting as he stared into the depths of those golden flecks and was certain that he saw stars in his eyes. It took him several minutes to properly respond as he was too captivated by the starry golden flecks before he slowly nodded his head and took a step back from him. His voice cracked and he coughed to clear his throat. “I-I’m fine. I was just thinking about something my siblings teased me about.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow and tilted his head to the side and looked cuter than any newborn calf.

He huffed, finally managing to get it out, “They’re under the impression that I like one of your sisters and I’ll try taking one of them to the Spring Festival.”

If he were paying attention to Brishen he would have seen the look that crossed his face and the clenching of his jaw. If he all but asked him for his heart Fralick would give all to him. There was impatience in his voice, a touch of hurt as he cleared his throat. “Do you like one of my sisters?”

Fralick shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh. “They’re lovely, each in their own way.”

“But are you interested in courting any of them?” There was a touch of desperation in his tone that caused Fralick to look up. The golden flecks in his eyes somehow seemed to be intensified, his smooth brow furrowed, his hands balled into fists as though he were in pain.

His heart suddenly sounded too loud in his ear, his lungs unable to get enough air in them, his mouth dry and his hands shook. Was this an opportunity? Was fate giving him a chance to confess?

He wet his lips with his tongue and gulped. “N-no. I am not interested in courting any of the girls, Brish. . .”

He loathed himself for not properly speaking, for not finishing his sentence, but it was almost as if Brishen knew what he meant because his pensive face relaxed and melted into a smile bigger than any he’d seen before. It was faint, but Fralick was certain he saw relief in his eyes. “I see. That’s good to know.”

Regrettably one of the cows crooned loudly and needed tending to and Fralick was therefore obligated to tend to the whining animal. The topic of the Spring Festival was not brought up again, and much to his chagrin Fralick had to go with his own sister to the festival. Both Fralick and Brishen went and they both danced with their sisters, everyone seemed to be very happy, but Fralick couldn’t help but wonder how things would have been different if he’d just spoken up about who he really wanted to court. Here and there on the occasion that he had a chance to sit, he could feel the golden flecks of those eyes on him. When their eyes met, it was as if they were able to share their own private dance without having to move their feet.

///

It took Fralick a whole other year before he could express who it was that he really wanted to court, and it was the best birthday present he could have ever asked for at the age of sixteen. Things between them only grew better as their friendship was something stronger and more intimate than anything else he’d experience. Sharing breakfasts, sharing lunches, sneaking out at night to go stargazing – even during the frigid cold of winter – they spent almost everyday all day with one another and things almost couldn’t be better. Almost.

He wanted to be content in a friendship alone, but his dreams betrayed him more than once. Each night they almost seemed to get stronger and worse, and a fear of change plagued his heart as his feelings for Brishen grew stronger. Trying to control the dreams, or at least the progress of them, he forced himself to wake at the start, the middle, or just some time before they could end. Dreams could be stronger than his will, though, for even after he’d woken and laid down again, the dreams would sometimes pick back where they had been interrupted. The hugs, holding hands, chaste kisses on foreheads that turned into something deeper with more passion nearly blurred the edges of his reality. Sometimes the dreams would repeat themselves when they met at the apple tree, their haven, and Brishen almost seemed to anticipate all the answers as if he already knew them. It didn’t help that when they met at the tree that Brishen was often the one to often initiate the touches, innocent as they came but still enough to rekindle the memories of the dreams of the night before. Grabbing his arm, leaning his head on his shoulder under the tree, that hazy look of desire that pleaded for something more between them – it was so real that it only grew harder to tell what reality was and what was a dream.

Last night, things had gotten too heated in his dream, and he’d woken with a painfully sore erection and bated breaths. Fingers tangled in hair, tongues deepening kisses, their bodies pressed together, and it was Brishen that seemed unable to part with him or stop his moans. He clung to him in desperation, as if he were trying to say something in his kisses, and though Fralick loved everything he gave, there was guilt. Guilt that he allowed his dreams to overpower him; guilt that he was taking advantage of their friendship; guilt that due to his own strong feelings for his best friend were somehow manipulating Brishen’s actions in his dream. He didn’t want the dream to end, but he pulled away from the passionate kiss as Brishen’s hands had made their way into his pants and forced him to gasp; it was too good. It was all too real. The sensations that trailed his skin, the pounding of his heart, the urges of his body, and the sad and deeply hurt look that had crossed Brishen’s face, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, as Fralick pushed away from him and forced himself to wake and refused to sleep again.

He looked for every excuse to not go out into the fields today. Pretended to be sick, tried to deny how much he loved taking the cows out to the pasture and wanted to milk the cows instead, and even tried to pull a stupid stunt with his father to be punished into doing some sort of chore around the house. He would do anything to now have to look Brishen in the eyes and pretend he hadn’t had the dream he did. It took Aisley reprimanding him and reminding him that she needed to get the house ready for his birthday that truly forced him to do his chore. Begrudgingly Fralick took the cows out to the field this morning, and he could feel how heavy his bags were and how exhausted his body was.

It was the first time he’d ever wished that Brishen would somehow stay home and not come out of the fields today. As of late there would be nights where Brishen didn’t get any sleep and either slept when he got to the tree or stayed at him because he just couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. His eyes remained glued to the ground, not even daring to look at the apple tree for fear he’d be there. However, he was both surprised and relieved when Brishen wasn’t there. He took to his usual perch and straddled the fence and leaned back against the apple tree. Not a single sheep in sight, and it was almost late enough in the day where he was certain that he wouldn’t show. His eyes were dry and demanding that he should try to regain some of the sleep he lost the night before, and he was tempted to do so. However, that relief was quickly snatched away when he heard the first bleat of a sheep.

Hard as he tried, he couldn’t help himself from looking for Brishen as he sleepily stumbled his way across the fields and made his way towards the fence line. Fralick thought he’d looked rough this morning when he rolled out of bed, and even despite Brishen’s ethereal handsome features, he looked worse. Heavy bags like purple bruises under his eyes, the corners of his eyes were tinged pink as though he’d been crying, and he was slightly disheveled. The worst of thoughts came to mind as Brishen approached, not saying a word or extending a greeting, fear that something had happened or that he was upset as he gracefully slung his leg over the rail and straddled the fence in front of Fralick. The golden flecks in his eyes were not as bright, dimmed with a sadness that he couldn’t understand but wanted to somehow comfort him. However, all thoughts came to an abrupt stop as Brishen leaned forward and rested his head on Fralick's shoulder. His body went rigid, his voice caught in his throat and his heart was far too eager that his dreams were somehow coming true.

“Please.” Brishen’s voice sounded like he’d eaten rocks before coming here. His forehead rested against his shoulder, his perfect nose breathing against his neck, and his body almost weighed him down with relief as he was so near. “Please, just let me rest here. . . just for a little while. . .”

Even if he would not have wanted Brishen to be so close to him, he could not deny him the rest he so obviously needed. He could hardly fathom why Brishen was so haggard looking, it wasn’t like he had the same dreams that plagued Fralick in the night. He carefully placed a hand on the back of the mane of black tangled bed head swirls to keep Brishen from rolling off his shoulder and falling to the ground. Soft snores came fast, and his body pinned Fralick to the tree as he sagged forward in his slumbering state. Fralick almost hated how happy he was to have him like this, cradled and sleeping in his arms all to himself, tucked away under their tree while he kept an eye on both flocks. He should have said no and offered his coat to him as a pillow to rest on the ground. He should have been more firm and gone back to tend to the cows. He should have done so much more before now to control this desire and this feeling for his friend; but he just didn’t have the willpower to do so.

His fingers slowly and unconsciously spun circles in Brishen’s curls and that almost had Brishen laying them both out flat as he pressed closer to him and was nearly on top of him. Were it not for Fralick locking his ankles under the board that they sat on they more than likely would have toppled over. A content sleepy sigh escaped Brishen and almost caused Fralick to moan as his breath teased his neck. His face burned, his blood pulsed, and his pants suddenly became very restricting. He banged his head back against the tree hard enough to make him break free from the spell that Brishen so easily cast on him. How did he always allow things like this to happen to him?

Slow hours dragged in silence, a gentle breeze blowing on the wind, and an utter calm surrounded them all. All the sheep and all the cows behaved and casually grazed or lazily laid down on the ground as they took their morning naps. Fralick had tried to keep his eyes on the animals, however, with Brishen keeping him warm and cuddled against him, it was very difficult to keep his eyes open. It had been a long night, a long sleepless night at that, and it would be so easy to just nod off. He was so tempted to, but he didn’t want to risk the chance of something, even minor, happening to either cows or sheep. His brow pinch and he glared at everything around him as his body pleaded with him to sleep when something purple that had caught his eye when he was glancing back towards the sheep. His eyes lazily searched for the purple tone then saw that it was an arm.

Fralick blinked thrice to force himself awake, making sure he wasn’t falling into a sleepy stupor and stared at Brishen’s arm to see that it was indeed purple. His eyes slowly trailed from the curled fingertips to his elbow to his shoulder to the curve of his neck to the point of his nose. Brishen’s entire body had shifted from perfectly tanned to a midnight purple. Most people would have screamed or shoved him off or panicked at the sight, and either he was too tired to truly react or too at ease in his sleepy stupor to see any problems with it. The midnight purple seemed to be more natural than his tanned skin and that much more lovely. It was faint, but he could even see golden starry freckles trailing down his neck, his arms, and even on the tops of his feet. He truly was an ethereal being. Had he not gotten to know Brishen as much as he had, perhaps he would have panicked or screamed to wake him, but he found himself even more enchanted by him and tried to soak in each and every detail.

There were plenty of questions that came to mind, answers he suddenly wanted to know, and a part of him was a little bitter to know that the rumors about the Yates were true. The only Yates boy was a Changeling. It suddenly made so much sense why it took his sisters years to allow him into the village, whether it was due to his lack of experience in holding his tanned form or some other unknown reason he wasn’t sure, but it truly did not matter. At least not to Fralick, because no matter what form he took, he was still Brishen, and he would always be the handsome boy with enchanting dancing gold flecks that stole his heart. He was gently tracing the starry freckles on the top of his hand when Brishen slowly lifted his head. His long eyelashes fluttered open to reveal tiny golden stars in place of the golden flecks in his eyes as he hazily peered at Fralick.

“Fralick?” His brow pinched as he sat up and looked over his shoulder to see the sheep on the other side. “Why’re you here?”

“Morning to you too.” Fralick gulped lightly as he kept his eyes glued on Brishen as he had yet to change the color of his skin. All the freckles that touched his skin turned into tiny golden flecked stars that traced his skin. “You fell asleep on me as soon as you got here.”

“Again?” He rubbed his eye with a big yawn that revealed his rows of sharp pointed teeth as he stretched his arms over his head.

He was beautiful, divine, ethereal, so much more majestic than the world could handle, and Fralick had been able to have a glimpse of his true self, all to himself. As much as he wanted Brishen to stay like this, on the off chance anyone should come wandering out in the fields, he didn’t want them to see him like this. “It’s nice to see you like this for a change.”

His eyes squeezed shut, it was obvious he wasn’t quite awake yet. “I’m always tired. . . I thought I was still dreaming when I saw you. . .”

“C-Come off it.” He laughed nervously, the back of his neck warming as he forced himself to continue looking at Brish. He only had a few more moments like this with him, he wanted to commit every detail to memory. “If there’s anyone who could possibly be dreaming, it’s gotta be me.”

“What?” Brishen blinked his eyes open, sleep still clinging to him, but the golden stars in his eyes were more awake now. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly reached for Brishen’s hand and held it, only to have Brishen stare at his purple hand, gasp, and immediately try to jerk away from him.

Fralick refused to let him go and quickly grabbed Brishen’s other hand before he could cover his face. “Don’t look!”

“Why?” Fralick scooted closer, their knees touching, and his hold on Brishen’s wrists tightening.

“D-Don’t look!” His voice cracked as turned his face every way he could. “Please, don’t look at me –”

Brishen just barely managed to rip his wrists away from him, but Fralick couldn’t bear to let him run away, not like this. Courage rising within him, he quickly slapped his hands to Brishen’s cheeks and pulled their faces together where he rushed a very clumsy kiss to his lips. Teeth clattered, the points of Brishen’s snagging Fralick’s lower lip, but he didn’t care and continued to press his lips into the kiss. Brishen’s fighting ceased, a gasp on his lips as he pulled away enough to look at him, but not to free himself. His eyes were blown wide open, the golden stars in his eyes practically twinkling as they searched Fralick for some explanation.

“Don’t run away from me.” His voice broke, his heart pounding in his ears, his own eyes searching for the golden stars. “Not from me, Brish.”

“B-But, I’m not the same as you.” Tears formed in his eyes as he shook his head, his purple hands reaching up to pull Fralick’s hands from his face, but Fralick only held him tighter.

“So?” He laughed as tears burned his own eyes.

“I’m not human, Fralick.” He sobbed quietly, the stars on his body glinting in the sunlight.

“What does that matter?” He carefully smoothed his hand against his cheek, trying to sooth the worried boy in front of him. “You’re still you Brish.”

“But I –” Fear evident in his eyes, he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The pupils in Brish’s eyes shrunk, then grew, then shrunk, then grew again as he ripped his hands from his cheeks causing them both to fall from their perch on the fence. Not wanting him to be hurt when he was so vulnerable, Fralick had made sure he landed first by wrapping his arms around Brishen and keeping him atop him.

The fall hurt the small of his back, but it was a small price to pay to keep Brishen from hurting, though it would have been nice if he hadn’t tried to fight him in the tumble down either. The moment they landed, Brishen flailed and tried to free himself from Fralick’s grasp, but he would not let him run from him. If he ran today, Fralick would never see him again. This was really the first time they’d ever gotten into a tumble or a fight, and Fralick was much stronger and knew how to hold his own better than Brishen. Trying hard as he might and trying to roll away, Fralick merely rolled Brishen beneath him, pinning his wrists there as he pressed his heavier weight against Brishen’s thinner frame.

“Let me go, Fralick!” He seethed, still fighting, tears pooling from his eyes as he tried to shove Fralick from him. “You can’t see me like this!”

“Brish, you’re gorgeous.” Fralick huffed exasperatedly. “No matter what you looked like, I’d still find you to be gorgeous.”

“Don’t lie to me!” He roared weakly as the tears leaked from his eyes.

“I’m not, Brish.” Fralick spoke lower, softer, calmer despite his racing heart as his mind screamed loudly in his head. “It would matter what you looked like to me, Brish I’d. . .” He gulped as the words dared to crawl back into his throat. Like prying open a nailed box, he declared to the man below him alone, “I’d still love you.”

“What?” His eyes widened, disbelief evident there as he shook his head, but there was a glimmer of hope in those starry eyes.

“I said.” He gulped at having to repeat the words, but he needed to say them just as much as he needed to hear them. “I love you, Brish. I always have.”

The ferocity that Brishen had been holding back rekindled itself as he slipped his wrists free to grab hold of Fralick’s wrists and reverse their positions. It happened so fast and literally took the wind from his lungs as Fralick’s back hit the ground again hard, but before he could catch his breath again, Brishen crushed his lips against his own. Starving kisses full of passion, full of bliss and love harassed and caressed his lips as Brishen kissed every inch of his face. Hands tangled into hair and to clothes and their bodies pressed together as they clung to one another and Fralick rolled them on their side. Limbs tangled as they rolled around in the earth, unable to get enough of one another.

///

It turned out that Brishen had some sort of ability to slip into people’s dreams and could sooth beasts or stir up trouble. He often dipped into Fralick’s own head and tried to get him to open up more in his dream state to confess so he could confirm their shared feelings and was deeply hurt each and every time Fralick ripped himself from the dreams. Brishen had been mockingly upset with Fralick for ruining his birthday present to him as he had planned to confess then, but quickly got over it as they deepened their friendship and relationship with one another that day under the apple tree. Though their emotions were glaringly obvious their mouths were too sewn shut with fear to truly confess.

His sisters were shockingly thrilled to find out about them, apparently, they had been assuming and hoping that something was going on between them and even placed bets about when it was going to happen. Maire won with a huge whoop and holler and placed a congratulatory kiss on both of their cheeks, even Farmer Yates did not seem opposed to their relationship. Aisley was ecstatic for him, Jayroe clapped him on the back, and though he had yet to tell his father, he was certain that he got wind of it from Farmer Yates. Their life was quiet out on the farm, but it was filled with love and time well spent with one another where they could get lost in each other’s love. Fralick felt foolish for letting things go on for so long but couldn’t help but be thankful that they finally had. Knowing him as a friend first then having him as a lover only made their relationship that much sweeter, that much deeper.

So let the rain fall and wrap them tighter together, they would be fine now that they had each other.

THE END

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