In Which Wars Picks a Fight With an Apple Tree (& Loses)
“Remind me again why we’re going to every tree?” Wars’ voice is slightly strained as he trails behind Legend, hefting the heavy basket in his arms.
“Because-“ Legend pauses to twist a particularly stubborn apple from its’ stem. “Because I don’t want my apples to rot while I’m not around, and Ravio can only do so much on his own. Besides, it’s not every tree.” One more twist and the apple comes free. He turns to drop it into the basket, shooting the other hero a smug grin. “Just most of them.” Warriors splutters.
The two of them have been out here for a few hours now; after Ravio had mentioned how he’d been worried about finishing the harvest in time Legend had all-but leapt up and made a beeline for the back door. Warriors had followed after him curiously only to find a basket the size of his torso shoved in his arms and told to ‘keep up.’ The other hero had apparently decided to start right this minute and marched straight for the nearest fruit-ladened tree, Wars stumbling after him.
They had to have gone through at least a quarter to a third of the orchard by now, Warriors guesses. Legend has a lot of trees, but not that many. (Part of him suspects the other is going slow on purpose.) Then again, the Captain doesn’t know much about apples, or the care and harvesting thereof. There wasn’t really much of an opportunity, in the city.
He shifts the basket in his arms so it’s more secure before speaking again. “What are you planning to do after this? Surely you’re not keeping all of these.” His voice comes out sharper than intended and he winces. Shit, he’d slipped into what Wind called his ‘knight voice’ for a second there. He sneaks a glance at his brother, who doesn’t seem to have noticed, having moved to the next branch to start working at the apples there.
Legend hums before answering. “Well, yeah, some of ‘em we’ll keep, some we’ll be selling next market day. The rest we’ll bake or turn into cider or something.” He comes back to dump an armful of fruit into the basket. “None of it will be wasted, if that’s what you’re worryin’ about. Even the overripe ones; those get put out for the deer an’ anything else that wants any.”
Wars can’t help but smile at the accent slipping into his brother’s voice, like warm honey over cool mint. It’s something the Veteran tends to keep tight under wraps, to match his voice to the front he puts up for the world. The fact that it’s making an appearance now, and the other is making no move to correct it, shows that he feels comfortable and safe enough to let his walls down- even if it’s just a little.
Following Legend as he moves to the next tree, Warriors takes the time to look around them. Trees heavy with fruit surround them, branches hanging low from the weight. Some are bare, however, and he remembers Legend saying how he’d had to work to bring it back from practically nothing, him and his uncle, before the man died and Legend was left to continue on his own. Even now, to his untrained eye, Warriors can see there’s still much work to be done. But that doesn’t erase all the progress that has been made.
Things continue in this vein for a while, the two of them chatting amiably and occasionally sniping at each other in friendly banter. At one point, Legend sends Wars back to the house to grab another basket when the first becomes too full. Wars complains but does as he’s told, grinning as Legend playfully gripes about him ‘growing soft from all that city-livin’; what, the big, strong Captain can’t carry a single basket?’
Warriors shoots back that he ‘may not be the Rancher, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t done my fair share of heavy lifting!’ Legend cackles. Wars finds himself beaming at the sound, his chest growing warm and full.
He’s so caught up in their banter that he forgets to watch his step; his foot catches in something- a hole or divot in the ground- and he stumbles straight into the low-hanging branches of a nearby tree. The basket tumbles from his hands, apples scattering everywhere as he tries to catch himself. He only succeeds in tangling himself further before his head meets the trunk with a resounding thwack!
Wars slumps against it, dazed, before yelping as he’s bombarded by what feels like at least half a dozen small projectiles from above. He holds up his arms in an attempt to shield his already aching head but it’s over as quickly as it started.
He hears what he thinks must be Legend yelling but his ears are ringing too badly to make out any individual words. Then there are hands on him, pulling him away from the tree and supporting him as he stumbles. Wars presses a hand over his eyes, dizzy.
He blinks and he’s sitting on the porch, Legend next to him. The other hero is fussing, pressing a gentle hand to his head and leaning closer to check his eyes. A scowl fixes itself on his face when he sees Wars looking at him and he removes his hand to cross his arms.
“Y’back with me, city boy? Or do I have t’go an’ call Time or Rulie out here?”
Warriors can’t help it- he laughs. Legend blinks, caught off-guard, before his scowl deepens. That only makes him laugh harder before a spike of pain lances through his skull and he has to stop to press the heels of his palms into his eyes, hissing.
“Serves you right,” his brother grumbles. Even still, he’s gentle as he pulls Wars’ hands down to check his head again. “I think you might have a minor concussion. With how hard you hit that tree I’m surprised it’s not any worse. ‘specially since y’got rained on with apples right after.”
“That’s what those were?!”
Now it’s Legend’s turn to snort at the flabbergasted look on Wars’ face. He leans back, done with his examination. “Sure was. Gotta say, the look on yer face makes me wish I had Wind’s pictobox or somethin’. It was priceless.” He shoots him a smirk.
Wars pouts, but any (admittedly minor) affect it might have had is ruined by his stomach growling. He glances down at it in surprise. It hadn’t been that long since he’d last eaten, had it? ...No, they’ve been out here for hours, that’s right. Damn.
Legend sighs and reaches for something out of his sight. Wars blinks and suddenly there’s an apple being waved in his face. He follows the arm it’s attached to and sees his brother scowling at him, a singular brow raised.
“C’mon, I’m not sitting around here all day.” Legend looks suddenly unsure. “Um. I don’t- know if it’s okay to eat with a concussion but no one ever said not to, so-”
Warriors huffs a laugh and takes the apple, watching Legend deflate with relief. “I’m pretty sure you have to be careful with more serious concussions. If it’s minor like you said, I’ll just have to watch not to hit my head again and drink plenty of water.” He pauses, thinking. “At least, I think that’s right.” ...Listen, he may have learned concussion symptoms and care by necessity in the war, but it’s been a few years and people don’t usually make it a habit of keeping his skills in that department sharp. There’s a reason there’s more than one healer in their party.
Legend’s other eyebrow rises to join the first. Wars coughs and glances away, raising the apple to his mouth and taking a bite.
His own eyebrows shoot up and he finds himself making a delighted sound at the taste. He’d forgotten how good fresh-picked fruit tastes. (No, the stuff from the Champion’s slate doesn’t count. Something about the way it saves things just doesn’t do the flavour right-) Suddenly he’s torn between devouring it on the spot and savouring every bite.
“Lege, I think I love you,” he declares, taking another bite.
The veteran makes exaggerated gagging noises. “C-c’mon, it’s jus’ an apple. I’m not- it’s not even a fuckin’- pie or anythin’.” Wars simply chews louder, swooning dramatically. “Gross.” But he’s smiling, violet eyes bright, and Warriors beams back at him.
In a few more bites he finishes his treat and is left looking down at his empty hands with a forlorn expression. Legend sighs and hands him another apple.
“What’s got you so excited ‘bout these anyway? I thought for sure you’d get like this abou’- I dunno, that dumb fancy food nobles eat or somethin’.”
Warriors ignores the fact that Legend absolutely knows what ‘dumb fancy food’ is, well aware the veteran has been forced by Fable to attend several events in his own era, and simply hums, tapping his feet happily. “Nah, I’ve never really been a fan,” he says eventually, watching Legend’s ear flick in surprise. “It’s just- fresh stuff like this is- was hard to come by, during the war. And then after, when we were focused on rebuilding and everything, it was just as hard. Maybe harder, depending on where you were in the city.” Second apple finished, he wipes his hands on his pants and leans back to soak up the sun. “Especially since a lot of it would spoil by the time it got out to us. So it was always nice, getting something fresh, y’know?”
He sneaks a glance at his brother. Legend is quiet, his gaze unexpectedly thoughtful. Warriors doesn’t mind. He knows his brothers, knows they see the gleaming city, the fancy clothes, the posh people, and think ‘rich, cultured, used to fine things.’ And sure, he’s a little bit of all of those (being the Hero and a highly-respected Captain during a major war you played a huge hand in admittedly has its’ perks), but the truth is he’s always preferred the simpler things.
That’s one reason he loves spending time with his brothers, staying with them in their homes; he gets to see the world like they do, if only a little bit: their comforts and habits, their favourite places and people and foods. They’re all so far from the pomp and rigidness of court life back in his own era, and he loves every minute of it.
He smiles, expression fond, and leans over to knock his shoulder against the vet’s.
“So,” he starts, causing the other to startle, “you said something earlier about baking some of the apples? What do you usually make?”
Just like that, it’s like a switch has been flipped. Purple eyes light up again, and Wars watches as his brother visibly brightens, hands beginning to wave and gesture as he speaks.
“We make a bunch o’ things! It depends on the apples and what you wanna make; there’s a bunch of desserts and dinner stuff an’ drinks an’ all kinds of things! Rav likes apple butter so we usually make at least one or two tubs of that. But we also make pies, tarts, cobblers, stuffed apples... We brew a bunch of cider, too, that’s really good when it gets colder. I think Wind an’ Hyrule would really like the candied apples Ravi makes- ooh, and Time would prolly like apple chips-”
Warriors listened to his brother talk, his expression happy and open. His head still hurts a little, but it’s easy to push back and focus on this- a happy brother by his side, a sunny porch, and a whole bucket of fresh, delicious apples. He rests his weight back on his hands and closes his eyes, determined to enjoy it.
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Image courtesy of my BIL.
Reasons I still don’t like or trust my BIL (cont’d)
Has/ had 30% heart function before 50 years old…so he can’t work any job that causes stress
However he can play poker at casinos for days on end
Blamed some other driver for his car accident (fairy sure he fell asleep at the wheel, driving home from a casino)
Won’t show his wife (my sister) the accident report
Even though he should eat healthier, he only cooks frozen pizza and hamburger helper
Justifies that they should go out to eat 5 times a week, even though my sister is the only person bringing home income
Thinks he knows everything about training dogs, even though this one is a piece of work
Continually belittles my wife about her “Certified Dog Training Skills” (she is)…because he watched Cesar Milan and he knows everything
Will only eat his steak well done, and now I see from this FB post, puts ketchup on his steak
Has somehow brainwashed and/ or convinced my sister that women cannot get a checking account without their husbands knowledge
In general is just an overall POS
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