It was a quiet evening, far fewer patrons than usual filling the tables of the Stag’s Hoof Inn, but perhaps that was because of the storm raging outside, howling winds and crashes of thunder barely kept at bay by thick wooden walls and the glow of the hearth. Joshua yawns, looking down and realizing that he has been wiping the same spot on the bar counter for the last five minutes. He shuffles to the side, moving the cloth in his hand in slow, circular motions. There is a sudden creak and gust of wind blows through the inn, candles flickering and casting dancing shadows upon the wall. A man walks through the inn’s door, fighting against the wind to close it behind himself. As the figure approaches the bar Joshua sees that it’s not a man, but a boy, seemingly no older than Joshua himself. The boy stops in front of Joshua and clears his throat.
“How much for a hot meal and a warm bed to sleep in?” he asks. Joshua looks him up and down; the boy’s bedraggled cloak sticks to his scrawny frame and his boots are caked in mud.
“Five mun.”
The boy pulls a small pouch out and pours out a few coins into his palm. It looks to be almost half of the money in his pouch.
“Take a seat,” Joshua says, motioning to the mostly empty bar.
“I’ll go and see about getting you something to eat.”
“Thank you.”
The boy shrugs off his jacket and places it on the seat next is himself. The entrance of the mysterious stranger had him feeling far more awake than a few minutes ago and Joshua grins at the thought of all the stories of far off villages the boy could probably tell him as heads through the doors leading back to the kitchen. He finds his father leaning against the back wall, puffing on an old wooden pipe.
“We have a new guest father,” Joshua says, “and he wants a hot meal.”
His father sighs around the pipe in his mouth. Turning towards the small fireplace set into the wall he grabs an iron poker and stokes the hot coals. He then nods at Joshua, “Tell him it’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Joshua retreats back to the front of the inn, pleased to see the boy looking a little more dry and warm than when he had first laid eyes on him.
“Thirsty?” Joshua asks, the boy’s gaze darting up from where it had been firmly fixed on the wooden counter.
He licks his lips, “Yes.” Joshua grins, picking up a clean cup and filling it up with a dark-colored, frothy drink.
“Here, try some of our homemade apple cider.”
The boy takes his first sip hesitantly, eyes going wide. He takes another sip, longer this time.
“Wow, this is great!” Joshua puffs out his chest proudly.
“Thank you, I made it myself.”
“Well it’s the best apple cider I’ve ever tasted uh…”
“Joshua, my name is Joshua.”
The boy nods, “My name is Seokmin. And like I said, delicious. Not that I’ve actually had apple cider before,” Seokmin confesses with a sheepish grin. Joshua is about to reply but is cut off by the appearance of his father from out of the doorway to the kitchens. He lays a steaming plate and a bowl of rice down in front of Seokmin, inclining his head politely before walking towards one of the few occupied tables in the inn. Seokmin eagerly digs into the food and Joshua returns to his position at the end of the bar. Drowsiness quickly settles over him again due to proximity to the hearth and it is quiet for the rest of the evening, their patrons slipping out the door or down the hall to the rooms as the hearth’s flames dim down to glowing coals. When Joshua finally curls up under the covers the howling winds seem to have ceased, the night sky finally at peace.
[FILL]
Major Tags: None apply
Additional Tags: strangers to lovers, angst, wanderlust, unhappy ending
Permission to remix: No
The Highwayman: 3.5k
(The fic is too long to post the whole thing on dreamwidth so here is the ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534779/chapters/69924945)
It was a quiet evening, far fewer patrons than usual filling the tables of the Stag’s Hoof Inn, but perhaps that was because of the storm raging outside, howling winds and crashes of thunder barely kept at bay by thick wooden walls and the glow of the hearth. Joshua yawns, looking down and realizing that he has been wiping the same spot on the bar counter for the last five minutes. He shuffles to the side, moving the cloth in his hand in slow, circular motions. There is a sudden creak and gust of wind blows through the inn, candles flickering and casting dancing shadows upon the wall. A man walks through the inn’s door, fighting against the wind to close it behind himself. As the figure approaches the bar Joshua sees that it’s not a man, but a boy, seemingly no older than Joshua himself. The boy stops in front of Joshua and clears his throat.
“How much for a hot meal and a warm bed to sleep in?” he asks. Joshua looks him up and down; the boy’s bedraggled cloak sticks to his scrawny frame and his boots are caked in mud.
“Five mun.”
The boy pulls a small pouch out and pours out a few coins into his palm. It looks to be almost half of the money in his pouch.
“Take a seat,” Joshua says, motioning to the mostly empty bar.
“I’ll go and see about getting you something to eat.”
“Thank you.”
The boy shrugs off his jacket and places it on the seat next is himself. The entrance of the mysterious stranger had him feeling far more awake than a few minutes ago and Joshua grins at the thought of all the stories of far off villages the boy could probably tell him as heads through the doors leading back to the kitchen. He finds his father leaning against the back wall, puffing on an old wooden pipe.
“We have a new guest father,” Joshua says, “and he wants a hot meal.”
His father sighs around the pipe in his mouth. Turning towards the small fireplace set into the wall he grabs an iron poker and stokes the hot coals. He then nods at Joshua, “Tell him it’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Joshua retreats back to the front of the inn, pleased to see the boy looking a little more dry and warm than when he had first laid eyes on him.
“Thirsty?” Joshua asks, the boy’s gaze darting up from where it had been firmly fixed on the wooden counter.
He licks his lips, “Yes.” Joshua grins, picking up a clean cup and filling it up with a dark-colored, frothy drink.
“Here, try some of our homemade apple cider.”
The boy takes his first sip hesitantly, eyes going wide. He takes another sip, longer this time.
“Wow, this is great!” Joshua puffs out his chest proudly.
“Thank you, I made it myself.”
“Well it’s the best apple cider I’ve ever tasted uh…”
“Joshua, my name is Joshua.”
The boy nods, “My name is Seokmin. And like I said, delicious. Not that I’ve actually had apple cider before,” Seokmin confesses with a sheepish grin. Joshua is about to reply but is cut off by the appearance of his father from out of the doorway to the kitchens. He lays a steaming plate and a bowl of rice down in front of Seokmin, inclining his head politely before walking towards one of the few occupied tables in the inn. Seokmin eagerly digs into the food and Joshua returns to his position at the end of the bar. Drowsiness quickly settles over him again due to proximity to the hearth and it is quiet for the rest of the evening, their patrons slipping out the door or down the hall to the rooms as the hearth’s flames dim down to glowing coals. When Joshua finally curls up under the covers the howling winds seem to have ceased, the night sky finally at peace.