scenic route. | balor
balor x gn!reader
"she shines tonight, her golden light is everything i need."
word count: 3.4k words
based off of balor's dialogue: "i cleared out your shipping bin the other night, and i had to stop and admire your farm. you've brought that patch of land a long way. is it easier these days?" :)
balor is used to being alone.
balor is used to keeping to himself because that’s all he’s ever done.
he doesn’t belong to any one place, he has no home, no family, no friends. he's used to it; those realizations have long since stopped hurting his heart.
yet there’s something about you he’s been inexplicably drawn towards since the moment he saw you over that bridge. as much as he’s tried to ignore it, he can’t help lingering around a little longer on your farm every night when he comes to pick up the items in your shipping bin.
it doesn’t help that you two seem to always cross paths, either. balor comes late every night after everyone is sleeping to sweep in and clear out their shipping bins, yet two in the morning seems to be your time to race home, coal smudges all over your cheeks and eyelids drooped so low he was scared you were going to pass out the first time you found him taking everything from your shipping bin.
you scared him (only slightly! he didn’t jump, or slam the lid of your drop bin on his fingers, nothing like that. obviously.) that first time you came running home. the repetitive patter of someone’s boots hitting the soil of your farm had immediately perked his ears while he was placing the last of your items to be sold in his bag. ‘now who in all of mistria could be up this late, running, nonetheless?’ he had wondered–albeit a little sarcastically–while leaning back to peek over the wall of your house, only for a black figure to be running straight for him.
balor had experienced quite a few scares in his life; he’d been chased in the capital through the back alleys he once slept in, angry old men calling him worthless and filthy, for "stepping onto their property," they said. he'd been ambushed in the dead of night on a deserted trail with nothing but a short blade to defend himself with. he'd met with trustworthy clients for a deal only to find himself on the run again, searching everywhere for a getaway.
but balor had grown since then; he'd turned that naivety and childish fear into cunning, persuasive charisma. he wasn't running away anymore; he was in control of his own fate, now. he was a respected merchant known all throughout the capital; the mention of his name could flip a deal completely upside down. but merchants didn't fight with weapons, at least not directly, so the sight of something running at him full speed made his heart skip a beat– maybe the young balor in him had never left.
he tried to hurriedly close your drop bin–it was his promise to at least keep your items safe, no matter who chased him–but he jumped froze when the sound of footsteps abruptly stopped, replaced with someone panting, just a few feet from him.
“oh, it’s just you–” the sound of your voice made him exhale a sigh of relief, he could say the same to you; was it necessary for you to be running at him full speed this late at night just to say that? balor turned around to see you using your sleeve to wipe the sweat off your forehead, “i’m sorry, balor. i heard something rustling in my shipping bin and i thought someone was robbing me– although i don’t know how one would accomplish that in such a small town– sorry– i guess i’m still getting used to living here instead of in the capital…”
so you had frights of your own, understandable. balor had closed his eyes, trying to calm down rather than show how you had frightened him. “yes, i was just here to pick up the things in your dropbin so i can sell them for you, sorry i scared you, farmer.” he gives you the smile that usually rests on his face, the one he’s learned and practiced for years to get him this far in life.
your eyes widen as if he’s just told you something fascinating, which he’s fairly positive he didn’t, “you’re the one that cleans out my bin every night?? thank you so much, balor! i had no idea.”
it’s just my job, he refrains from saying, still trying to process the gratitude. you look like you have more to say, but you’re waiting for him to respond. “yeah. i clear out everyone’s bins after they’ve gone to bed, shouldn't you be sleeping, [y/n]? you're an early riser.” he's quick to turn the topic of conversation back onto you, covering a yawn with the back of your hand, avoiding the recognition.
“oh, me? i just came back from the mines and i lost track of time, sorry… i don’t mean to keep you, though. you need to sleep, just as much as me! do you want to come inside or anything? i have an extra blanket somewhere– probably…” you’re lost in thought, remembering again that you’ve just moved onto this farm and probably don’t have any extra bedding, but it’s the kindness of your heart, he knows, that makes you extend the offer, anyway.
and you probably would have found a way to house him for the night, but he’s quick to respond before he can think too much about what you said, “that’s alright, but thank you, [y/n]. your farm is my last stop and then i’ll be heading back to the inn. you should get inside before you fall asleep.” his smile grows a little, watching you blink groggily, slowly losing conscious with every passing second. you barely give him a response, just a little hum, before accepting the gentle hand he places on your shoulder, guiding you along the side of your house to your front door. by then, your mind has forgotten about everything else besides your sole focus to get to bed, and balor slips away before you can turn around and remember he was there.
he thinks about that night more often than he’d like to admit. sometimes when he opens the door to his room at the inn, he finds himself wondering what a night in your home would be like. is your room cluttered, like his? or is it decorated with everything you’ve brought from your life in the capital? maybe you’ve started to purchase some decorations from merri. when he returns to your shipping bin every night, he thinks about that first night and if he had said yes. he thinks about if he’ll see you on your farm, or on his way up from it. he just hopes to cross paths with you, wherever that might be. yet at the same time, you look completely exhausted every time you come running down that path; your face brightens up—in a way he’s sure he mirrors—when you see him, but he can tell that you’re understandably tired out from all your days. your shipping bin is always full of precious gems, piles of fish both small and large, animal products, and seasonal crops.
recently, his hands have been full of gems, spicy curries, and beautiful flowers that he’s not even sure where you found– you surely didn’t buy it from his cart, or else he would have noticed. you give them to him daily, sometimes at night when you’ve come home from the mines and he’s clearing out your bin, sometimes on friday nights or the weekends, and sometimes in the middle of day you come out of nowhere, something in hand that you extend to him, saying things like “i thought you might like this” and “this made think of you!”
it’s confusing, frustrating, and also a little… wonderful. he feels like he’s in a constant battle with himself, trying to understand his own thoughts and prove to himself that something is or isn’t true: he’s starting to like you.
you’re giving him all of these gifts saying you’re thinking of him and it’s making him think hopefully hopelessly? that maybe one night you will invite him to your home again and he will say yes. he’s not sure how it would go, but that's why he looks for you every day. he hopes to see you every night, but he also wishes you would stopping running home so late, which makes him think maybe he should ask to walk you home to make sure you don’t pass out before you get inside your home. he's worried about everything; himself, you, the both of you.
for seasons, this is how you two operate. you bring him small gifts nearly every day, always surprising him when you appear. the most he gets to talk to you has been every friday night at the inn, and always, without fail, he’s seen you in passing late at night when everyone else is asleep. whether it’s him or you (wishful thinking), your schedules have somehow become more interlinked.
one night, you show him what he originally thought was a firefly because of its glow. it's a bee, you explain, that can only be found at night because they're nocturnal.
that night, he looks up at the sky, trying to build the courage to say something; “well… if it’s late enough for these ‘moonlight bees’ to be out, then i think it’s time for you to go home and sleep a little while, don’t you agree?” when he looks back down to you, you’re already staring at him. he’s not trying to cut the night short, he wants this night could last forever. what he’s done is stall for more time to ask the question that’s been on the tip of his mouth for months.
you pout a little, swinging your feet off the ledge you’ve both been sitting on for the past several hours, and he’ll be damned if he remembers anything aside from how beautiful you looked in the moonlight when he first met up with you. he doesn’t remember what he said, or what you said, or how you two ended up by the western ruins. all he knows is that there's an opportunity right in front of him; as a merchant, an opportunity is his tool, his way to change a situation in his favors. yet, with you, nothing he’s previously learned seems to apply. he’s not sure how to approach anything when it comes to you; how to show you a part of him that hasn’t been created as a defense mechanism, how to talk to you without pushing you to do anything you don’t want to do.
he can only ask meekly, “would a lady such as yourself be so inclined to let a gentleman walk you home?” it sounds better coming out of his mouth than it did in his head, and he’s so distracted he almost misses the way your face slightly reddens; or maybe he’s hallucinating.
“i’m not a lady,” you mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, and he can’t help but smile.
“in my eyes you are,” he says, and it’s probably the clearest sentence he’s ever spoken to you since that first night you scared him at your shipping bin. “you’re so kind, not just to me, but everyone in this town. you’re always running around checking up on us and giving us things even if we don’t ask for it. even lady adeline would agree. why don’t you just let me walk you home, yeah?”
he stands up from the cool grass, extending a hand to you, and it takes you a second before you look up at him and wordlessly take his hand.
down the green hills past the museum, you lead him down the dirt paths rather than through the paved stones of the town, and everything looks beautiful at this time of night. it's silent– except for the chirp of a cricket ever so often. there’s a stream of blue light coming through the branches of a nearby tree–the same color as that moonlight bee you held in your hands earlier–and now that blue is shining through your hair and you look even more breathtaking than before.
his eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he takes in the sight, and he wonders how he never noticed it until now. it's just nature; the cycle of the sun and moon forever showing up everyday, no matter how bad it gets, yet it's easy to miss. even on the long trips to the capital at night all by himself, he can't recall a single time he really looked up and admired the sky. he'd been too focused on the future, what was to come, what he would have to sacrifice–until now. now, life had become more beautiful once he'd started paying more attention to you and everything that mattered to you, which included all of mistria.
“is it faster to take this way than through town to get to your home?” he asks.
your walking slightly ahead of him, and you tilt your head back to look at him at the sound of his voice, a soft smile on your face, “ah… not really, it’s around the same amount of time, but it sure is pretty, isn’t it? i call it the 'scenic route.'”
he can only nod in response vigorously, the beaded necklace around his neck slightly clinking in the silence of the night. “how come you don’t come home this way more often, then? every time i see you from your farm you’re coming from the town,” he asks, catching back up to you as you both pass hayden’s farm.
“well…” you’re chewing on your lip in deep thought, and he’s never been more attentive to your every movement and action, “i like to see you on my way home, and it seemed like you always head back up to town after you empty my shipping bin. so... i’m scared i’ll miss you if i come from this way.”
balor can feel his own face warm despite the cool breeze of the night, but there’s also a small smile on his lips that he can’t help. he barely thinks through his next words, his mind already buzzing with the secret you just shared, “i only walk back up to the town after your shipping bin so that i can see you. if i wanted to be the most efficient, i would go straight to hayden’s farm right after i grabbed your items–but then i would miss out on seeing you.”
his words shake you and your cheeks have flushed more since when he called you a lady. you stop in front of your door, looking up at him in surprise. “s-seriously?..” you stutter, “why would you do all that just to see me? i’m embarrassed... and i’m sorry if that’s affected your sales… not being efficient…”
balor looks around the fields of your farm, the coops and barns you built, strong and sturdy. sure, you had the help of blueprints from ryis and landen, but you are the one that gathered the materials, paid for the blueprints, and ultimately built the shelters for the animals you bought and raised from hayden. your crops are growing healthy and tall in your fenced off garden, seeds that you bought from holt’s store, but were ultimately from balor’s travels to the capital.
the entire town of mistria is connected, something he saw with a merchant eye, but didn't appreciate until you moved in and flipped his world upside down. you've turned this farm and town into something infinitely more times valuable than before, it's you, that formed connections in this town. you, that's taken the time out of your day to gather the materials for all of adeline's plans and made them a dream come true for her and everyone she wishes to help. you are the one that warmed his heart.
“are you kidding? affected my sales? [y/n], all you’ve done is continue to boost them. the entire town of mistria has grown thanks to you since the moment you arrived here,” he’s kept all this praise and his feelings built up for so long, but he’s overwhelmed by your presence and all the fruits of your labors surrounding him. most of all, you still refuse to acknowledge your impact on everyone around you, above all else, his life. “this isn't even about money– i would take seeing you over some extra tesserae any day," the declaration is strange, coming out of his mouth. he has to pause for a second, his heart beating so fast at what he's just said. it's a statement for you, but also for himself. he's proved to himself that he's changed; he's not willing to take up shady deals for more money over his humanity anymore, and that realization feels liberating.
"everyday i get to see you, even if it was just in passing, you brighten my days." he continues speaking once he's gathered himself again, "...you always check in on me. i’ve felt drawn to you since we met on the bridge, [y/n]. and not because of your profits or potential– i've turned down offers that would get me somewhere better to stay, or more money because i can’t bear the thought of not seeing you again. i’ve grown to love everyone in this town, but you, [y/n], most of all.”
you’re speechless for a second, searching his eyes, trying to find any jokes or mischief, but all you find is adamancy and adoration. “balor…” the way you say his name, and your hand slowly reaching up to caress the side of his face, he can’t hold himself back anymore when he pulls you closer to him, gently but firmly, leaning down to kiss your lips. when your fingers find their way into his short hair, he gains more confidence to slide his hand up your back to the side of your face.
when you both finally pull away, breathless and flushed, his face remains close to yours, and all you can do is continue to get lost in his eyes, rich and deep in color. it's dark on your farm, yet you can still see the glint of passion and life in his eyes. he looks a little tired, and maybe that’s from how late it is, or how hard he works, or from all he’s done in the past, but you're sure he could the same for your eyes. no matter the reason, his eyes are perfect; they draw you in, just like they have from the beginning.
“balor,” you repeat his name, more confident this time, and he remains silent, but his eyes don’t stop looking into yours for even a second. “thank you for being the reason that mistria has business, for bringing all of our labors and products to the capital, for bringing us resources back no matter the weather, even when you couldn't use your wagon. thank you for keeping track of our sales and doing the best you can to help us all succeed, not because you’re a merchant or just looking for money, but because you have a good heart, no matter how much you deny it. i’ve been in the capital, i’ve done shady things, too. it’s part of the survival when you grow up alone. but when i see you now, balor, i see a good person who wants somewhere to belong. mistira—and me—have long since accepted you as part of us—this town.”
his eyes only falter once, towards the end of your speech, and the smile on his lips is grave for a second. his forehead drops to your shoulder as he takes in a deep breath while you run your hands up and down his back. when he lifts his head, his eyes are bright again, and he has a smile on his face. a genuine one, this time, not his practiced smile. “thank you, [y/n],” his voice is a whisper. it’s all he can say, he thinks, or he would never stop thanking you for all you’ve done.
it’s like that first night all over again, but it’s not. past the surface, you both have changed and grown so much; you have turned this farm and town into something much better, and much brighter. sure, maybe he’s helped a little bit in that just as much as everyone else, but there's no way any of this would have been possible without you, and how you changed him for the better. but just like that first night, you’re ending with the question he’s been waiting to hear again for months:
“do you want to stay the night with me, balor? i think i have an extra blanket around here, somewhere.”
♡