Arvel carried Rain over his shoulder, away from the goat pen and into the tool shed. He would take her wherever was necessary to break her line of sight with Tim, who was contently eating hay with her ruined bloomers still stuck on one of his horns.

“You’re not allowed to cook Tim,” Arvel said firmly, “Without him making the rounds with his harem, the goat’s milk would dry up pretty quick, and I don’t have any cows.”

“I’ll buy you cows!” Rain shouted, “Just let me get a hatchet, and we get slow-roasted goat shoulder for dinner! Goat meatballs! Whole smoked goat neck!”

Arvel sat Rain down on a hay bail and leaned over her, planting his hands on the bail on either side of her hips. He looked her directly in the eye and said, “No eating Tim.”

Rain huffed, looking up at him, and said, “I can’t believe you’re taking a goat’s side over mine!”

“To be fair,” Arvel said, “Stealing your panties, accidentally at that, isn’t a crime punishable by death.”

“Well, it should be!” Rain replied, folding her arms across her chest.

“Oh come on,” groaned Arvel, “It’s not like they did you any good! The shirt’s so big on you, I never even spotted them before Tim got his horn stuck.”

As if to further illustrate his point, one of Arvel’s hands touched the side of Rain’s thigh, just below the hem of the shirt. Rain gasped, her eyes widening, and her cheeks turning red. It took Arvel a moment before he realized why, and he looked down at his hand on her thigh.

“Oh,” he said quietly, “I should... I should probably move that, huh.”

“I can’t help but notice you’re not,” Rain replied, her voice sinking to a hushed whisper as she squirmed on the hay bail.

“Yeah,” Arvel replied, his fingers gently sliding down her skin, “You’re just real soft, is all. Didn’t really expect that.”

“I haven’t had scraped knees since I was six,” Rain said, glancing down at her bare legs, “No calluses on my hands, either. Barely even a pin-prick.”

“That sounds real nice,” said Arvel, his fingertips curling under her thigh a bit as he petted along her skin, “My hands probably feel real rough.”

“I don’t mind it,” Rain whispered, blushing deeply, and glancing away from him.

“You don’t mind if I keep going?” he asked.

“Keep going?” she echoed curiously, looking up at him. But, what Rain had intended as a question, a plea for further clarification, Arvel had apparently taken as confirmation. Not hearing the question mark in her tone of voice, his fingers began to slide up, toward the hem of her baggy shirt, before dipping under it and traveling toward her hip.

Rain shivered, her thighs rubbing together as she squirmed on the hay bail, and she said, “I don’t want you to think that this is my gratitude. I’m not that sort of woman.”

“What sort of woman?” Arvel asked.

“The kind who just... gives it away.”

“Gives what away?”

Rain whined under the pressure of Arvel’s questioning, looking away from him as her cheeks blushed more intensely. But as she looked to the side, Arvel leaned in closer, near the side of her bared neck, breathing in the scent of her skin and hair. He was close enough for her to feel the tickle of his breath.

“You smell nice too,” he whispered, “I don’t know if it comes from being a marchioness, or born under the Noble Star, or what it is, but it just seems like every part of you is extra nice. Your skin and your hair, your voice, your lips...”

When Rain turned her head to look at him, Arvel’s lips caught hers. Her soft gasp of surprise was muffled, captured beneath the warm press. At first, he kissed her fully, and firmly, his lips nestled perfectly against hers, but soon after, he tilted his head and gently plucked at her upper lip, before capturing the lower petal between his, softly slurping on it. Rain had never been kissed like this before. In fact, she’d never kissed at all. But there was something needy in Arvel’s presses that felt like more than an ordinary kiss.

Arvel’s other hand slid up under Rain’s hem, petting and caressing along her other hip, as he pressed the kiss further. He raised one of his knees to rest on the corner of the hay bail between Rain’s thighs, gently parting her legs around his, as he shifted his weight over top of her. His shadow was cast over her from the light of the open tool shed door. Rain wilted beneath his shadow, slowly leaning back on the hay bail as Arvel pursued, kissing as she laid down. Rain’s delicate hands touched Arvel’s shoulders, but she didn’t push him away, slowly sliding her arms around him to hug him closer as the kisses deepened.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Fidget had finished sweeping out the whole of the house, and made a failed attempt to reach the rafters to clean, giving up after her third tumble off of a chair. With a few fresh bruises, least of all to her pride, she emerged from the house in search of Arvel. He had been gone with his pantsless slave for over an hour and the hunger gnawing in Fidget’s belly had made her impatient.

As Fidget passed the chicken run, all of the birds became agitated, puffing their feathers and beginning to cluck loudly as they gathered near the edge of the wire fence beside her. One of them let out a screech like an alarm, and Fidget hissed loudly, turning and kicking the fence and scattering the chickens in a panic.

“Don’t think I won’t still knock your house down!” Fidget threatened, shaking her fist at the chickens, before continuing her search with a heavier stomp in her feet.

Fidget stopped by the goat pen for a moment, to admire the billy goat with a stylish ruffled hat worn at a rakish tilt, before making her way toward the tool shed.

As Fidget neared the shed, she heard a strange sound and froze. At first, she thought it was a sound of pain. But then, she heard another sound, like a moan of pleasure. Fidget hunkered down in a stalking stance, creeping toward the shed, listening to the sounds from within.

“A-Arvel...” Rain stammered, tossing her head back and forth, lifting the back of her hand to cover her mouth in a feeble attempt to keep her voice down. She moaned between panting breaths, eyes half-lidded, before she caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway. Rain gasped, sitting upright suddenly, stems of hay tangled in her hair as she shoved Arvel away.

“The hells?” Arvel asked as he fell back on his butt on the floor, before looking toward the doorway where Rain stared.

A crash of thunder rolled down from the mountains and lightning lit up the silhouette of a goblin standing in the doorway. Fidget clenched her fists, squaring her shoulders as she stared at them trying to pretend as though nothing happened; Rain smoothed her shirt down quickly, and Arvel wiped at his face with the back of his forearm before he stood.

“Fidget is hungry!” the goblin announced loudly, “Time for food!”

“R-Right!” Rain stuttered as she quickly stood, and brushed hay off the backs of her bare thighs as she hurried past Fidget and out of the shed.

“Yeah,” Arvel said, his brow furrowing as he stepped outside. He looked toward the darkening sky and said, “Weather’s getting real weird today. I’m gonna secure a few things before I come inside, so you go on ahead.”

Fidget glared up at Arvel.

“Hey, you can stow the attitude,” Arvel said, ruffling Fidget’s already messy mop of black hair, “Go on and find a bite to eat. I’ll be right in.”

Fidget suddenly swatted Arvel’s hand off the top of her head, and let out a frustrated scream, like a tiny, scratchy goblin roar, before she turned to run inside, leaving Arvel bewildered in her wake.

By the time Arvel was done securing the farm, stowing whatever might be blown away, the windstorm had picked up violently. When he opened the front door, a quick gust snatched it out of his hand, nearly breaking the hinges as it slammed open. Arvel grabbed the door handle with both hands, dragging it shut as he stepped inside.

“The hells is with this weather?!” Arvel asked, “Ain’t never seen anything like this, springing up in a matter of minutes.”

Fidget did not respond, sitting by the fireplace, hugging her knees and visibly stewing in her bad mood. Rain, meanwhile, was standing on a chair to look through the kitchen cabinets that Fidget had thrown into disarray.

“What do you have to eat?” Rain asked, “There’s practically nothing here.”

“There’s lots of food!” Arvel replied, “I got jams and jellies, lots of pickles, some sausages, plenty of stuff for making stews. You just gotta cook something.”

“Cook something?” Rain asked, looking at Arvel.

“Yeah, cook it,” he said, “Turn simple food into more complicated food.”

Rain was quiet.

“Do you not know how to cook?” Arvel asked.

“Well...” she muttered quietly, trailing off in lieu of a real response.

Arvel rubbed his face and said, “You were threatening Tim with all kinds of things you don’t actually know how to fix?”

“Well, I know they’re dishes made out of goat,” Rain quietly replied with a huff.

Arvel looked toward Fidget and asked, “Can you cook?”

Fidget looked toward them and said firmly, “Meat goes on top of fire. But not too close.”

“Alright then,” Arvel groaned, “Okay, get down off the chair and go have a sit. I’m gonna get some barley stew on.”

Rain put her hand on Arvel’s shoulder for balance as she climbed down from the chair, she looked up at him once she was firmly on the ground again. Rain had noticed Arvel was a fair bit taller than her, after she felt herself shrinking beneath him in the shed, she became more aware of the fact that her head was at the perfect height to lay against his chest.

Noticing Rain’s warm cheeks as she looked up at him, Arvel blinked and said, “Oh, that’s right, I got something for you while I was tidying things up.”

“For me?” she asked, surprised. Her heart fluttered in anticipation.

Arvel reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wad of fabric. He held it up, displaying her bloomers, with their stretched and ruined lace, and a large hole in the back right cheek.

“I got these off of Tim for ya!” Arvel said with a grin.

Rain’s face blushed furiously and she snatched the ruined bloomers out of Arvel’s hand, snapping, “I told you not to look at those!”

Turning away quickly, Rain stomped across the house and into Arvel’s room, slamming the door shut behind her. Arvel stood there, defeated, his broad shoulders slumping, before he called out behind her, “Y’know I saw a lot more than that... but fine.”