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sunspray-peak · 2 years ago

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Ch. 20: The Luau

THURSDAY - SUMMER 11

“Oh, fucking hell.”

Achilles never checked his mail. It was a bad habit of his that had developed during his time at BRLO (he had to see enough advertisements at work, thank you very much) and that he had since never bothered to break. Coupons and flyers and grocery store catalogues—he needed none of it. As for letters—well who wrote letters these days, anyway? If someone really needed him badly enough, they’d call.

That being said, a small package from his cousin had been overdue for delivery, and thinking that perhaps it had been placed in his mailbox rather than on his doorstep, he had finally opened the damn thing, digging around countless, dusty circulars and newsletters to try to locate Camille’s swoopy handwriting. Alas, there was nothing to be found. Dammit.

With a grunt, he squatted to pick up the scattered contents of the mailbox from the grass to later dump into the recycling bin when a pale green envelope of thick, heavy paper caught his eye.

A wedding invitation? He ran through all his old friends—he didn’t think any of them even knew he had moved. A secret admirer? Fat chance. Intrigued, he ripped it open to read:

Dear Ashee Ache Achilles,

Tomorrow, Summer 11, we’re all gathering at the beach for the annual Pelican Town Luau.

The highlight of the event is the communal potluck. Make sure you bring something good to contribute! The governor himself is attending the event, so make sure you’re on your best behavior. Come to the beach sometime between 9AM and 2PM.

-Mayor Lewis

Ah shit. Talk about disappointments. This one was twofold—one, the letter was from Mayor Lewis, gross. And two, what in the world was he going to bring to a potluck that started in an hour?

“Fucking hell,” Achilles muttered again, stomping back inside his farmhouse to his fridge, despite knowing full well that when he opened it, he’d bear witness to about six eggs, an old leek, a hunk of cheese, and some raspberries Maru had shown him grew naturally on some of the Valley’s native vines.

Maybe he could grab something from Pierre’s…

But when he arrived at the general store, there was no one to be found behind the woefully locked door. “Closed for Festival” said the neatly lettered sign. Damn. He had hoped Abigail would’ve at least been present to save him from embarrassment. He supposed the saloon would be similarly closed for the holiday…

He could show up empty handed. Oh, but it’d be rude to arrive without a contribution—he’d already messed up once with the Mullners during the Egg Festival dinner, when he’d left the bottle of wine behind. Absolutely humiliating, the height of poor taste and bad manners…

Perhaps he wouldn’t show up at all. Hide in his farmhouse and pretend to be sick… or perhaps he’d leave town, for knowing Lewis, sickness wouldn’t stop the mayor from rapping on his door and accusing him of declaring “war on the pillars of the community” or what not…

Oh, but he had been looking forward to the festival. Good food, decent people, and, most importantly, something to do…

Just then, Achilles heard the boisterous laughs of none other than Abigail herself skipping down the northward path with Sebastian and Sam naturally in tow.

“Hello hello!” she called upon seeing him. “Excited for the luau, Achilles?”

“Ah…”

“Whatcha bringing to the pot luck?” Sam asked. Between the three of them, they carried two large dishes covered in tin foil.

“Forgot, huh?” It was Sebastian, naturally, who was the first to pick up on Achilles’ empty hands. “No problem. We’ll just say you helped us with these.”

“Easy as pie!” Abigail added.

But Achilles shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Doesn’t seem quite right to take credit for something I didn’t actually do.”

“Shit, no one will know,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “But up to you.”

Achilles turned to Abigail. “Say, you wouldn’t be able to let me pop into the general store and grab a few things…”

“Ooooo…” Abigail’s face scrunched as she cracked her knuckles and glanced through the glass at the small pyramid of on-sale bell peppers. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t have the key on me and dad’s already down at the beach.”

“Ah. No worries…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just slap your name on our stuff? It’s really no big deal.”

“Thanks, Sam, but it’s all right. I’ll figure something out.”

“Suit yourself, man. We’ll see you down there!”

They traipsed off—Abigail with a slight limp, Achilles briefly noticed before turning his attention back to the problem at hand. Perhaps he could pick a bunch of raspberries and class them up in one of his nice fruit bowls. Yeah, that could totally work, right…?

You sad, dumb bastard…

“Hello, dear!”

Evelyn was coming out of Dusty’s pen, a large jug of water in her hands. Dusty himself was on her heels, ready to follow her back to the house. Too hot to be outside! the slow, low wag of his tail seemed to say.

“Let me get that for you,” Achilles said, hurrying over and taking the jug.

“Oh, that’s very kind of you!”

They made their way over to 1 River Road.

“Are you excited for the luau, dear?”

“Ah… oh yes! Looking forward to it…” He opened the front door for her and Dusty first, taking off his shoes in the foyer before setting the jug in the kitchen.

“You just missed Alex, he and Haley usually make something together for Luau Day.” She must’ve caught him peaking his head around the space. “You know, dear, George and I would actually love some help with our own dishes. I’m just finishing up the poppyseed muffins, but if you happen to have some time, I would be incredibly grateful if you could peel these potatoes and chop those veggies over there. I know George would very much appreciate it, he hates cutting up vegetables.”

In response to his name being dropped, George croaked an aggressive “What?” from the living room.

“Morning George!” Achilles called.

“I can’t talk right now, young man. My favorite program is on.”

Achilles, who strongly suspected Evelyn had overheard his conversation with the trio and was simply rescuing him from Lewis’ wrath, nevertheless wasn’t one to let an opportunity like this slide when it had been dropped so deftly into his lap. Even if he hated cutting vegetables.

“Happy to help, I should be thanking you.”

“Oh, nonsense, nonsense…”

He joined her at the counter and began to peel the potatoes for the potato salad. With George’s scornful retorts safely out of the way, this seemed as good a time as any for the pursuit of Project #2.

“Actually, Evelyn, this is perfect timing all around—I was hoping to ask you about the junimos. The forest spirits?”

“Oh dear. Have you been spending more time with the Wizard?” Evelyn was pouring her batter into four separate tins. Those thin arms must’ve been packed with stringy muscle, the bowl was huge.

“Hmm…” Achilles thought back to his most recent visit to the tower. “Not particularly. I’ve just been… seeing them around…”

“Oh! Have you now?” She looked up from her pouring, her widened blue eyes beaming. “How nice that must be for you!”

“Yes, well, perhaps. They don’t… do much. I actually didn’t know what they were at first, but Alex suggested I ask you about them. He said you had been able to see them before?”

“Oh yes. When I was your age, or perhaps a bit younger, the Valley was a different place. There was a… glow to it. A brightness to it all. Stardew was filled with those little forest spirits back then— junimos, you called them? Charming little things, I remember them well.” She smiled, thinking back to a simpler time. “Now, I always said, if I ran into one, I knew it was going to be a lucky day!

“In fact, I saw two of them—a pink one and a green one—hopping through Cindersap the morning of my first ever date with George. He could never see them, but what a wonderful day that turned out to be!” She sighed, taking a minute to savor the memory before somberly shaking her head. “But as I grew older, they became scarcer and scarcer, and I’m afraid to say, dear, I haven’t seen them in quite a long time.”

Evelyn paused to put the now-filled tins into the oven. “But if you’re seeing them, they must be allowing you to! What a special blessing—perhaps they will bring you good luck, too!”

With the muffins now in the oven, she reached for the celery and began to swiftly dice the stalks, her smooth speed all but confirming she never needed Achilles’ help with the dishes. “Now you keep an eye out for the bad spirits, though, dear. I’ve never seen them, but I’d hear the rumors.

“Sometimes, when I was a younger girl, I’d feel a bad smell in the air up by the mountain, something really rotten I knew to avoid. Now not to say you’ll feel them, too—I pray you never do, dear! But I do feel it my duty to warn you; if you’re seeing the forest spirits, I feel it’s best to be prepared for the unsavory sort as well.”

At her words, a chill began to creep up Achilles’ spine as he remembered the purple smoke that had kept him captive in the Wizard’s tower—was it that same whisper he was suddenly hearing right now? He shook his head, and the voices faded to silence. Just your imagination…

“But enough of that—I believe such things, good and bad, can be spoken into existence. Now pass those potatoes, please, dear!”

*****

“Stealing my grandparents, are you?”

Achilles had arrived at the beach with Evelyn and George carrying a giant bowl of potato salad while George balanced 47 muffins in his lap (Achilles had eaten one—with Evelyn’s encouragement—before they left. It had ruined muffins for him, never would any baked good from Pierre’s, from even Hyacinthia’s award-winning bakeries, ever be able to match).

“What can I say, they just like me more,” Achilles ribbed, placing the potato salad next to the ginormous fruit salad Alex and Haley had brought. “Nah, your grandma just took pity on me…”

As with the previous festivals, the beach was fully decked out in decor. Totem poles ten feet tall had been dug into the sand while red and yellow flag pennants fluttered alongside string lights in the wind from above. Mats of giant leaves served as the dance floor—Robin and Demetrius were already jiving to a tropical song blasting from the speakers.

Four long tables clothed in gold and green had been set up in a rectangular formation on the beach, each straining under the weight of all the dishes that had been—and were continuing to be—arranged. In the center of them all was the largest pot Achilles had ever seen—so large, a ladder had been erected next to it for folks to add ingredients—and which was emitting a cacophony of scents.

Alex followed his gaze. “That’s Stardew’s famous Luau Soup for you… four years ago everyone got super sick after drinking it, and I’ve never trusted it since. Not really sure why it’s still a thing… what’d you bring for it?” Right now, Penny was perched on the ladder preparing to drop something in from a cloth bag.

“Shit, I was supposed to bring something for the soup, too?”

“You didn’t bring something for the soup?”

It wasn’t Alex, but—of course—a nearby Lewis who had just happened to overhear Achilles’ question. Before either boy could get a word in edgewise, the Mayor stalked over, pulling on his mustache.

“This-is-the-most-important-dish-at-the-luau-how-could-you-forget?”

Achilles straightened himself to his full 5’11” and looked Mayor Lewis squarely in the eye.

“Bringing something for a soup wasn’t mentioned in the letter.”

To be fair, him even reading the letter had been a complete accident, but Lewis didn’t need to know that.

Unfortunately, the mayor was not one to be intimidated. He gave his moustache another yank before sticking his wrinkly finger straight into Achilles’ chest and declaring, “The tasting isn’t until noon—you’ve got two hours to get something.”

Lewis’ fingernail was digging right through the linen of his button down, and Achilles had to force himself to take a breath before answering. Oh fuck you—

“Have you got a checklist, Lewis?” There was venom in Achilles’ voice now that he wasn’t bothering to disguise. “Just lurking about with a clipboard, making sure every member of this community contributes?”

The mayor huffed and puffed before lowering his voice to a dangerously cold tone. “I’m looking out for you, Achilles. I want to introduce you to the governor. We need a good impression from you.”

“And we’re going to get that from me dropping something into a giant ass pot? Does he have a checklist then?”

“Language!” Lewis jabbed his finger again for stalking off. “Two hours!”

“Goddammit… what’d you bring?” He looked at Alex, who had been silently bearing witness to the spat.

“Uh… some tomatoes.”

“I am not making the trek back to my farm for this…”

Instead, similar to Lewis, he stalked away from Alex and made the exceedingly short walk to Elliott’s beachside cabin, giving the door a knock or two before letting himself inside.

“Elliott, my dear, dear friend… Oh shit.”

“Ah, Achilles!” Elliott, startled, jumped up from his kitchen table where he had been sitting next to Leah, the two apparently deep in conversation.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt—”

“No, not a problem, my friend,” said Elliott, clasping his hand. “Please, how may I be of service?”

Achilles shot Leah a quick glance before turning back to Elliott.

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to bring something for this… soup… Mayor Lewis is watching me, don’t ask me why, I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure he’s getting ready to prepare my eviction notice as we speak… what do people normally put in this thing?”

“Ah! The soup. A rather ghastly tradition, if I may so—in fact, my very first year here, everyone had a terribly rotten time. Sick stomachs all around! Dear Dr. Harvey had quite a field day… But any ingredient you can think of, my friend! Part of the, allure, for lack of a better word I suppose, is the mystery surrounding this soup. Everyone brings an item, and then the governor takes a sip before we distribute to the crowds.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“I am glad to hear we are of one mind. I refuse to partake—and must bear the mayor’s wrath every year—but dear Leah over here has brought some raspberries.”

“So does that mean I can’t bring raspberries?”

Leah rolled her eyes and joined the two by the door. She opened the Tupperware she had been holding and dumped several berries into his hands. “You can bring literally anything Achilles, nobody gives a fuck. The tourists drink it all up.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“OK—thank you. Again, so sorry to disturb,” Achilles said, ending his sentence with a strange jerky little bow before scurrying out.

He made sure to give the mayor a big show on his way back to the pot, staring unblinkingly at Lewis as he climbed the ladder at an exaggerated snail’s pace and hurled the berries with all his might into the soup.

Lewis, to his credit, also refused to break eye contact throughout this little performance of Achilles’, and in fact proceeded to beckon aggressively once he had made his way down from the ladder.

But Achilles chose to respond with a cheery wave and teeth-baring smile, before turning and heading back towards the grills instead, where Alex, a brown Stardrop Saloon apron tied haphazardly around his waist, and Maru were chopping up burger and hot dog toppings ahead of what would likely be the lunch rush in an hour or so.

“Burger duty?” Achilles asked, conveniently placing himself so that he’d be in Alex’s line of sight and out of Lewis’.

“Every year, baby!” Alex looked up from his methodically diced onions. The lime green of his Tunnelers cap seemed to brighten his eyes just a tinge, adding just yet another level of mischief to their usual gleam. “You hungry? The line gets pretty crazy once all the tourists start arriving around noon.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure? I’ve got other things, too if you don’t want a burger or a hot dog right now…” Alex bent down to dig through the shelves that had been erected for the event. He popped his head back up, lifting the cap to run a hand messily through his hair. Achilles couldn’t help but squirm slightly in his sneakers. Perhaps it was the heat… and the sand…

“Want an egg?”

“Well, I can never say no to an egg.” Achilles looked briefly away from Alex, who had cocked his head like an overeager beagle in response. “Over easy?”

“One over easy egg, coming right up!”

With one hand, Alex deftly cracked the egg onto the grill, his arms flexing ever so slightly with the movement. It was all too much. Achilles was transfixed, eyes continuing to follow the veins in Alex’s hands as they tossed the shells into a nearby bucket, and it took Penny’s nudge to break the spell.

“Hmm?”

“You’re drooling, Achilles.”

“Like hell I am,” Achilles grumbled, but he surreptitiously wiped his mouth just in case. “In my defense, I’ve had very little to eat today.”

“Hey, same—you know, I always like to starve myself the day before so I can leave room for ALL THIS DELICIOUS FOOD.” With a howl, Alex flipped the egg a foot into the air, letting it hit the grill with a bit of a splat.

“That’s not healthy at all,” Maru said drily, looking up from the tomatoes she was cutting with significantly less gusto.

*****

He would’ve stayed and chatted with Alex and the troublemaking trio for the rest of the luau if he could (Maru had traded places with Sam after being accosted by her father over a matter of “scientific importance” and had left for the boardwalk), but since he was also determined to stay away from Lewis, he had been forced to change up his plans.

Luckily, it was Elliott who gave him his preemptive escape—his friend had sidled over with Leah and invited him to walk with them just as Lewis had begun to make his way over to the grills.

“I’ll save you a burger!” Alex called as the three left, Achilles half-pushing Elliott to walk faster ahead as Lewis began to also increase his walking speed.

“Oh dear! I didn’t mean to pull you away from young Alex—” Misinterpreting Achilles’ heightened urgency, Elliott began to turn back.

“No worries, no worries, just go.” Achilles gave Elliott another, less gentle shove, tripping slightly over the back of Leah’s boots. At 6’5”, Elliott was pretty much a lightning rod for Lewis’ searching gaze.

The tourists had begun to arrive in droves, however, which made it much easier to disappear into a crowd. Folks were piling their plates sky high. Damn, not even an entry fee? Achilles thought to himself, given that most tourists didn’t seem to be contributing anything to the potluck, though Achilles noticed the soup remained untasted and untouched for now.

Thanks to Alex’s swim lessons, Achilles had no hesitations now racing towards the water. Together, they made their way to the boardwalk, where a separate little crowd had formed. Rather shamelessly pushing his way through to the front, Achilles found Maru surrounded by a multitude of different colored bottles and sheets of paper and pens which she was passing out to the tourists.

Catching Achilles eye, she waved him, Elliott, and Leah over.

“Helping out the ye olde parental figure with his latest science experiment—you know, the usual,” Maru began with a good natured roll of her eyes. “He’s conducting an experiment on the currents of the Gem Sea.”

She held up one of the bottles—a purple one, semi opaque—and gave it a little tap. “Going to be throwing these into the sea later today. Hopefully in the upcoming months we’ll see when and where they eventually turn up—they’re actually made out of that polycarbonate I told you about last season, Achilles.”

“Oh! Nice, did you get the patent?” He took the offered bottle and gave it his own experimental tap before handing it to Leah who conducted a much closer examination.

Maru beamed. “I did! The material is nontoxic and won’t shatter, so it should be safer for wildlife than a typical glass bottle, and there’s not anything that’ll leach into the water.”

Elliott tutted in hearty approval. “Absolutely fantastic—what a wonder you are, Miss Maru!”

A small blush appeared on Maru’s cheeks. Achilles couldn’t help but look around to make sure Demetrius wasn’t anywhere nearby. The last thing they needed was the man falsely believing some 33 year old, unemployed beach bum in a ratty red blazer was flirting with his precious daughter.

Maru coughed. “Well, anyway—I just thought I’d make the experiment a little more fun and everything with the luau, if you three are interested in participating?”

They nodded, and she eagerly handed each of them two sheets of paper along with a pen.

“The smaller card is the science stuff—most of it’s filled out already, but if you want to see what and how we’re recording, it’s all there. And then the second sheet is whatever you want it to be! You can write a letter, draw a picture, maybe even leave a phone number—any kind of message in a bottle you want to leave for whoever eventually, well… finds your bottle. Thought maybe it’d be fun, turn it into a pen pal sort of thing!” She shrugged, seemingly suddenly a little embarrassed by her enthusiasm. “Or, I don’t know, maybe that’s boring… but the folks so far seem to find it fun… anyway, just come back and give them to me when you’re done!”

After assuring her it was a good idea, the three swiftly made their way back through the crowd to a rare empty space by the edge of the boardwalk. Leah, unsatisfied with the two inch wooden strip railing, instead had Elliott turn around and used his broad back as an easel for whatever picture she was inevitably choosing to draw.

The man instantly turned scarlet, though of course from her new vantage point, Leah couldn’t see. Achilles on the other hand, gave him a squirrelly nod before leaving Elliott to write, also inevitably, what was likely to be an incredibly long winded letter.

Achilles, however, wasn’t quite sure what he’d do. What were messages in bottles typically used for? Love letters? That was a thing, right? He thought of Alex at the grill, arms bare from under his white UMF tank top, that baseball cap jauntily tilted just a few degrees to the side, laughing at even the most awful of Achilles’ jokes…

There were other options, too, of course. He had forgotten the most obvious reason behind messages in bottles—distress signals. SOS. Cries for help and the like…

At that thought, he was, with a flip of his stomach, reminded of a intoxicated night on a boardwalk and a beach and a sea. He obviously hadn’t written a note then—nobody, including himself, had thought that night was going to end the way that it did, but note or no note, it had most definitely been a night of distress.

His pen was raised half a centimeter above the page. Perhaps it’d be cathartic to finally put those thoughts—the anxiety, the hopelessness, the frustration, all still stewing inside him—to page.

Eva did always recommend journaling, didn’t she?

His old therapist—surely it wouldn’t hurt to revisit some old exercises.

But he was doing better now, right? Sure, relapses were a thing, but as a whole, Summer had so far been… nice. At least, compared to the end of Spring. Swim lessons and museum visits and other small tasks had kept him… somewhat busy. Why dwell on the past like that when there were brighter, if more mindless and silly, thoughts to share with the fish? Thinking back to what Evelyn had only said this morning about the spirits—why risk speaking anything distressing into existence? Even at the thought of it all, he felt a stir in the whispering voice at the back of his mind.

Oh, but it wouldn’t hurt to get it all out, right? Even if he was past it. Which he definitely was. Right?

He spent another five minutes wrestling between the two ideas. Why did it even matter which he chose, who the hell was ever even going to read this? A quick glance to his right notified him that Elliott (whose handwriting was neatly cramped and probably half the size of Achilles’) had already fill out the whole front side—geeze. Fine, if he was going to be like that—not that it was a competition… Achilles made his decision, put his pen to the page, and began to write.

*****

He had only just turned the assigned materials to “Miss Maru” when Lewis, his face an intriguing shade of plum Achilles had never seen in a person, finally caught up to him. Gripping his shoulder with what must have been the combined might of all the mayors before him, Lewis dragged him away from a bewildered Elliott, Leah, and Maru. Off the boardwalk they went, across the sand, and back towards the festival entrance where a large, equally mustachioed man stood bedecked in a vibrant shade of purple not unlike the color of Abigail’s hair.

“Governor.” Lewis cleared his throat and gave Achilles a slightly pointed smack on the shoulder, not that Achilles’ perfect posture needed the encouragement. “I would like to introduce you to young Achilles Robinson, our newest resident here Stardew Valley. He recently moved into old Dan Robinson’s farm—his father is, of course, Perry Robinson, I’m sure you remember him, and his mother Apolline Desrosiers. We are delighted to have him join our wonderful community here in Stardew!”

Ah… Hoping to look good in front of the Governor, huh Mr. Mayor?

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Achilles said taking the Governor’s pudgy hand. It may have been sweaty, but the Governor’s eyes were kind—much kinder than Lewis’ beady little things at any rate.

“Ah, young Achilles! I knew your father and grandfather well, he was a good farmer and an even better man, I was sorry to hear of his loss. I hope you’ll be following in his footsteps? This county could use some more locally grown produce!”

Achilles shook his head somberly, biting down on his lip to prevent the smile threatening to break through when he caught site of Lewis’ impressive nostril flair. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a farmer—”

“—oh, but he’s found ways to support the community in a multitude of other ways,” Lewis said, rushing in. “He made a generous donation to help fix the old mining carts, you know, and together we’re working on rebuilding the museum and library.”

Together, huh?

“As you can see,” Lewis continued, “The Valley truly is a vibrant place that’s continuing to grow and attract such wonderful young people, and I do believe that you should reconsider—”

“It’s always a joy to visit Stardew Valley,” said the Governor, interrupting Lewis with admirable ease. “I take it you’ve liked your time here?”

Armed with his brightest, smarmiest, most obviously sycophantic smile, Achilles threw an around around a visibly fuming Lewis’ shoulders. “Oh yes, the Valley has been wonderful. Of course, we’re all indebted to our Mayor here—over 20 years, I’ve heard, hasn’t it been?”

“Oh. Well yes, yes… why, always unopposed…” Lewis’ halfhearted attempt at modesty was halting.

The governor chuckled. “Well it was good meeting you, Achilles. Now go run along, no need to stay here with us stuffy old gents any longer. Perhaps, Lewis, we should move forward with the Luau?”

Achilles didn’t need to be told twice, scurrying away back to Alex and Penny at the grill as the governor and Lewis together made their way to the giant pot in the center of the beach.

“Sucking up to the governor, I see.”

“Alex, let me tell you, I’m not the one doing any of the sucking there…” Achilles hopped deftly onto the edge of the table. The line for burgers had temporarily dwindled down; most folks were now either on the dance floor or hitting the water.

“Figures… Hey, you want that burger now?”

At that moment, Lewis took to a small stage that had been set up next to the giant pot of soup and picked up a microphone.

“In a second, I want to see what the fuck is the deal with this soup.”

Alex barked a laugh and set his spatula to the side, wiping his hands on his apron. “Right-o.”

Lewis gave the microphone a few shrieking taps and then began. “Well folks, it’s time once again for the potluck ceremony. I trust that you all put high-quality ingredients in the pot this year—Carl, you heard me! You better not’ve put in that eggplant dip again—we don’t want the governor to regret his visit to the valley!”

The crowd chuckled politely as the governor (and Carl, wherever he was) shook his head in mock consternation.

“Well… Governor? Would you do us the honor of tasting the soup?”

“Of course,” the governor said, moving forward. “I’ve been looking forward to this all year.”

“Wow, no taster or anything, hmm? Could be a pretty straightforward assassination method, shame Lewis doesn’t taste it first,” Achilles murmured as Penny and Alex, who had leaned closer to better hear, held back snorts. “Al, didn’t you say people got sick once?”

Penny laughed lightly, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Oh, it was awful… and we never caught the culprit. Lewis had always believed it was a tourist, but some of us have our suspicions…” Her eyes darted about the crowd.

The governor made his way precariously up the sagging ladder, a ladle in hand. When he reached the top, he spooned a boldly large spoonful and gulped it down without hesitation.

A pregnant pause. All eyes were on the governor.

“Ah…”

The governor set the ladle down.

“That’s a very pleasant soup. The produce from Zuzu never disappoints!”

“I put in a cheese that I’m 95% sure came from Castle Village,” Penny whispered.

“Now, who else wants some soup!” Lewis, all smiles now, waved a new ladle from atop the ladder as the townsfolk and tourists began to line up.

*****

Alex was still on burger duty, which was beginning to pick back up (poor guy doesn’t get a break, huh?), so Achilles left to, despite his better judgement, grab a small bowlful of the mysterious potluck soup. He was now standing under the shade on a mat of palm fronds waiting for Elliott and Leah who were grabbing their own bowls, when Abigail joined him.

“Once, like four or five few years ago, Sam and I dropped a pufferfish in. Straight up wrecked everyone.”

Achilles immediately lowered his spoon back into his bowl. “Aren’t pufferfish… poisonous?”

“Yeah…” Though Abigail didn’t look quite as remorseful as her tone may have tried to suggest. “We thought it’d be better than anchovies… hey, in our defense, we didn’t realize it would be that bad… like, nobody died… or had any longstanding health issues or whatever, so all’s well that ends well, right?”

Achilles raised his eyebrows, unwilling to swallow the tiny mouthful of soup he had spooned before this revelation.

“Don’t worry, we just put in some onions this year,” she said, watching him slosh the soup between his cheeks as if it could weed out any potential poisons. “Now,” Abigail leaned closer in and lowered her voice, “Nobody except Seb knows it was us though, so don’t say anything.”

In an unusual turn of events (after assuring Abigail he wasn’t a snitch), he caught Shane trying to catch his eye from across the dance floor. He pointed to himself quizzically to confirm (when did Shane ever want to chat?), and received an urgent, almost conspiratorial, beckoning wave in response.

Saying farewell to Abigail—although he wasn’t sure if she heard him, as Sebastian and Sam had arrived with plates heaping with food—Achilles navigated his way through the crowd over to Shane, who was now wearing his JojaMart polo, the bright blue cap clutched in his thick fingers.

“What in the world have you got that on for?” Achilles asked, waving aside the beer Shane was offering him.

“Gotta leave for a shift in 15,” he grunted. “Damn store doesn’t close during the holiday—doesn’t close any time, they’re open pretty much 24 hours every day in the Summer because of all these fuckin’ tourists…”

“Ahh… I’m sorry about that.” Achilles took a seat on the wicker chairs, ready to give the man a much needed comforting pat on the back, just as Shane began to stand.

From above his blue collar, Shane’s neck had turned slightly red, as Achilles realized it was oft to do when he was about to ask for even the smallest favor. Also in typical Shane fashion, the man turned his gaze to the ground.

“Wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on Jas after I head out—Marnie’s a little… distracted.” his eyes wavered over at the bushy haired woman who was already rather red in the face, one hand grasping the stem of a cocktail glass, the other touching Lewis’ arm as she laughed heartily at a joke Achilles refused to believe warranted any level of teeth showing.

“Hmm? Sure, no problem.” Jas, easy to find due to her purple hair, was currently down by the shore with Vincent.

“She’ll probably stick close to him, and Jodi’s watching of course, but, ya know… just in case. Can never have too many eyes out, especially with all these strangers out here.” He glanced around, his eyes rimmed with red and suspicion alike.

“Yeah, of course. No worries, I’ll make sure she gets back before dark.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

*****

After a few hours spent chatting with Elliott and Leah, the sun had begun to set. Rather than wait for the tiki torches to be lit, Achilles made for Jas who was still splashing in the shallows with Vincent (Marnie had since disappeared…).

“Hey Jas. I think it’s time we head back to the ranch.”

She stopped mid-splash to glance distrustingly up at him. “Who are you?”

It took a concerted effort not to roll his eyes. “I’m—”

“I’m just yanking your chain.” Definitely must’ve learned that phrase at home. “You’re Uncle Shane’s friend, the farmer man. Okay. Let’s go.” She reached for his hand and began to lead the way. “Bye Vincent.”

Didn’t need much persuading, huh, Achilles thought to himself. Jas’ hand was small and damp in his, but she led with youthful confidence. At her touch, something ached ever so slightly in his chest—as the second oldest cousin of six, he had always (to some people’s surprise) liked children, though being an only child, he’d had no nieces or nephews.

“Do you want to grab some leftovers?” he asked her as they neared the potluck tables, still laden with a fair amount of food.

“Okay.”

He grabbed her a plate and she reached for a few lukewarm hot dogs. “Why is your hair like that?” she asked suddenly, pointing at the streak in his hair. He was surprised she could make it out in the orange light. “You don’t look old enough to be going grey.”

“Why is your hair like that?” he shot back at her. “You don’t look old enough to be going purple.”

Jas giggled, as Achilles continued. “I got hit in the head hard as a kid, so you better be careful or the same will happen to you.”

“You smell like grass.”

“All right, well you smell like seaweed.” Achilles scratched his head. “You ready to go now?”

He glanced around the beach again, but Marnie was still nowhere to be found. Neither, he noticed, was Lewis…

“Hey, Achilles!”

Both him and Jas turned—Alex was tossing a volleyball between his hands.

“You wanna play a round with Sam, Abigail, and I? We need one more.”

“Ahh…” Oh he wanted to, that was for sure, but… “I can’t, gotta take this one back.”

“You can play with Mr. Alex if you want,” Jas said, accompanying her somber nod with a clumsy pirouette. “I don’t mind.”

A better wingman than your Uncle, Achilles wanted to say, but he shook his head instead, just as Alex strolled closer, bouncing the ball with his forearms. “It’s okay, Jas. I told your Uncle I’d get you back before dark.”

“Oh, I see—babysitting duty, huh?” Alex knelt to offer Jas a high five. “Now Jas, you better take good care of Achilles, okay? Make sure he brushes his teeth and is in bed before 9.” She giggled as he stood back up, tucking the ball under his arm. “Well we might still be here for a bit if you come back. If not, I better see you Saturday, all right?”

*****

It was over a half hour walk through Cindersap Forest with Jas determined to stop at every other rock or river to look for crawdads and roll polys and the like. While a part of him wanted to tell her to pick up the pace so he could maybe head back to the beach, Achilles forced himself to knock that bubbling impatience aside, instead joining her in her quest for to identify every species of bug they came across.

Finally, they reached the ranch. But a knock on the door was met with silence.

“You haven’t got a key, have you?” he said, looking down in the shadows at the pigtailed girl. She shook her head and took it upon herself to send a hailstorm of tiny fists down upon the door.

He sighed, prepared to bring her back to his own cottage if needed, when a breathless Marnie wrenched open the front door, her hair rather askew and… to Achilles’ discomfort, her blouse unbuttoned incorrectly.

“Achilles! Ah! Thanks very much for bringing Jas back.”

“Bye Mr. Robinson, thank you for bringing me home.” Without even a second glance, Jas sprinted into the house straight for her bedroom.

“I’m happy to take her back to my place if you’re… busy…”

“Huh? Oh—no, no. Everything’s good here. Thank ya again!” With an abruptness that rivaled Jas’ unceremonious exit, Marnie shut the door with a goodbye.

There was an empty sort of hollow in his chest, now that he found himself alone under cover of dusk. But figuring that nobody in their right mind would be playing beach volleyball now that it was this dark out (and would be even darker by the time he arrived back at the beach), Achilles shook off his solitude with just the tiniest sigh and made his way back to Strawberry Farms.

#llnks #sunspray peak #stardew valley fanfic #stardew fanfic #stardew alex #stardew valley alex #alex sdv #stardew valley oc #stardew farmer

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sunspray-peak · 1 year ago

Text

Ch. 67: Winter Star

THURSDAY - WINTER 25

“Rise and shine, Alexander, it’s Winter Star!”

Achilles could’ve been banging pots and pans, and the aforementioned Alexander still likely would’ve only rolled over with a snore if the former hadn’t also jabbed him hard in forehead. In between a sputter and a yawn, Alex managed to murmur, “Is it Winter Star already?”

“Mmhm.” Achilles took advantage of Alex’s wide-reaching stretch to duck under his arms and lay himself underneath. “And look, it’s snowing, baby—well, I guess you can’t look, the curtains are closed…”

Alex yawned again. “Never expected you to get excited over snow…” He gently swatted Voltaire, who had also joined the party, aside and pulled up the bed covers.

“Oh, I still hate it, but it’s not too bad, and I’ve always wanted a White Winter Star. In Monstera, our Winter Stars are usually dry and… vaguely tannish.”

“Yup, yup, makes sense…” Another yawn. “Geez, you’re already dressed?” Still bleary-eyed, Alex had pawed at Achilles’ chest only to encounter the soft knit of a wool sweater.

“It’s 9am.”

“Oh heck, seriously? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because it’s Winter Star! It’s your day off, you deserve to sleep in! Don’t worry, I made breakfast!”

“I’ve never seen you so excited for a festival…” Yet another yawn. Clearly Alex hadn’t slept well—dark dreams, perhaps?—but his assessment was nevertheless fair. Winter Star had always been Achilles’ favorite holiday

Back in Monstera, his parents had thrown a lavish, annual Winter Star party. It’d always been the talk of the town; there was live music and festive costumes and the most delicious food—roast beef and sweet potatoes and deviled eggs and lamb; the list went on and on.

And Perry and Apolline had always made sure to order Achilles’ favorite—a chocolate cranberry pavlova. Oh, just thinking about it now made his mouth water… as Alex knew, he wasn’t usually a chocolate person, but the pastry chef for the Robinsons’ go-to caterer could not be beat. The pavlovas from the bakeries in Hyacinthia had never been the same, but Gus had promised him he’d do his best…

Alex, however, clearly did not seem to share his enthusiasm for the holiday.

The two had been grabbing a drink with Emily and Haley the night before, and when they had left the saloon, Pelican Town was in the midst of its transformation for the festival. Multiple red carpets had been rolled out in the square encircling the massive Tree of the Winter Star.

It had to have been nearly 50 feet tall, a real hefty pine tree Lewis had made sure to inform them had been sourced “right from our neighboring community in Sunspray!” And they had left the Stardrop just in time to see Willy flick on the lights, tiny silver bulbs illuminating baubles of gold and blue and red. And at the very top—a star that shimmered like a jewel under the moonlight.

Privately, Achilles thought his parents’ tree was prettier, but even so, he had marveled at the towering sight. To his surprise, however, Alex had only made an uncharacteristic little “Hmph,” and hadn’t stopped to give it more than a second’s glance as they made their way back to Strawberry Farms.

He could have chalked it up to familiarity—after all, Alex had lived in Stardew for nearly 13 years now, the tree wasn’t anything new to him—but in the carols Willy had begun to bellow, Achilles was reminded of Spirit’s Eve, and the memory to which he had borne witness.

I think this was the first time I realized my dad wasn’t a good man.

Even now, there was a heaviness to the way Alex was holding the glass of water Achilles had brought him. But perhaps he could help Alex create some new memories for the holiday.

God, you’re giving yourself too much credit, you narcissist…

But Winter Star had always been only the most joyous of affairs in the Desrosiers-Robinson household. The parties were fun, but what Achilles had always loved most about Winter Star was the time with loved ones. Cheesy, but true. He had numerous fond memories celebrating with his family— holiday sweaters, the traditional breakfast of gingerbread muffins and peppermint hot chocolate, and then the presents! It was always a full day, packed to the brim with activities, and though there was no party here (perhaps he’d throw one of his own next year), he wasn’t planning on slowing down just because he was in Stardew.

Achilles scurried up from the bed to draw back the curtains and welcome in the white shaft of sunlight that broke immediately through the blinds. It cut through the room like a knife, illuminating one half of Alex’s face and setting the bit of gold in his emerald eyes aglow. And even with Alex frowning and squinting hard into the glare of the glass in his hand, Achilles couldn’t help but stare.

With his nose scrunched, Alex tossed Achilles a perturbed look as he scooted himself up against the headboard. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Come on, you should know that anytime I’m looking at you, I’m admiring that overwhelmingly beautiful face of yours, my beautiful, beautiful boy.”

Alex cleared the phlegm from his throat and rubbed the sand from his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean just look at that nose. Your favorite part of your face!”

“That is true, it is my favorite—oh, okay—you’re in a—extra good mood—”

Achilles had hopped gently back onto the bed—he was straddling him now, holding his face in both his hands before leaning forward to kiss the aforementioned nose. He had taken their conversation two nights previously to heart. It had hurt to learn Alex had been anxious, but Achilles was determined to make it up to him now. Alex had been right—Achilles wasn’t naturally a touchy person, but he’d promised himself he’d be more considerate now for Alex’s sake.

“Do you want to know what my favorite part of your face is?”

Alex drummed his fingers along Achilles’ thighs and fought back another yawn. “Just dying to know.”

“All of it.”

“Ha ha, Ash.” Alex rolled his eyes, but the morning’s melancholy seemed to be melting slowly away under Achilles’ touch, for he was now smiling as he slid a hand under the back of Achilles’ sweater. “Real, uh, diplomatic an answer.”

“See, I’m sure everybody else says your eyes, but since I’m just so incredibly unique and quirky, I decided I’d—” But he cut his rambling joke short after witnessing the wince that had flashed across Alex’s face for just a fraction of a second. “What, you don’t like your eyes?”

“No, no…” Alex gave his head a little shake, ran a hand though his bed head.“I dunno. I just wish they weren’t my dad’s.”

Oh.

“Hmm. Let me get a better look.” Achilles had, of course, committed the whole spectrum of those iris’ shades to memory quite a long while ago, but he took his time as he cupped Alex’s chin and studied him closely with a sideways tilt of his head before concluding his examination with a smart pat on the shoulder. “Hmm. I say, Master Mullner, I’m no artist, but yours are quite different a shade. Much warmer—an earthier tint, if you will. Sure, they’re both green, but you wouldn’t call an avocado peel the same color as a lima bean, now would you? Leah would be outraged.”

Then, he kissed him once atop each eyelid as Alex laughed. Achilles was being silly, that was obvious enough, but even so…

“Thank you,” Alex murmured, burrowing his head under Achilles’ chin and hugging him close.

They sat like this for a minute or two. Under the sunlight, in the silence. Achilles could feel his breath, warm against his chest, slow and soft—in fact, he wondered whether Alex had fallen back asleep, until his voice rang out, small and slightly muffled against his sweater,

“What are we, Ash?”

Oh no.

“Hmm?”

Achilles had, of course, heard him the first time, but he was choosing to buy himself a minute or two to formulate his response.

“I just… I mean, I guess I understand if you feel it’s too early to have this conversation, it’s just that after Tuesday, I guess, I was just wondering… I don’t know. It’s been a few weeks, now. What are we?”

This is so unfair.

Achilles leaned back to better facilitate eye contact and almost immediately regretted it; those puppy-dog eyes—it was too much. “Well, what do you want us to be?”

“I asked you the question first.”

“You actually asked a different question, technically—”

“Achilles…”

Your nose is twitching. Your nose is twitching! Drag it out, at least until you can get to the kitchen—

“We’re dating. Do you want more?”

Alex bit his lip. “Do you want more?”

“I asked you the question first.”

“Okay, okay, okay—”

Just kidding, don’t drag it out, can’t you see how stressed he is! Ugh, forget about it. Just do it.

Achilles sat backwards onto the heels of his feet and pinched his nose. “I had a whole thing planned out, you know. For Saturday. A beautiful bouquet of flowers, a nice speech, a wonderfully romantic walk along the boardwalk. It was going to be a whole thing, but I guess you’ll never see it now.” He sighed and tapped Alex’s forehead. “I want you to be my boyfriend, Alexander Joshua Mullner. How about that? Would you like to be my boyfriend, hmm?”

It was clearly not the response Alex had expected from the rate Achilles’ nose had been twitching—his lips parted in an ‘o,’ and it was several seconds before he managed to say, “Um. Oh. Yeah. I mean, sure. Yeah!”

“Great.”

A pause. Then both of them began to speak.

“I’m sorry, this would’ve been significantly less awkward on Saturday—”

“I’m sorry, I really futzed up your plan didn’t I—”

Achilles shrugged, smiling, though Voltaire seemed to give an emphatic “Mew.”

“Nah, it’s okay, it wasn’t anything particularly fancy. The weather forecast says it’s supposed to be pretty warm, I thought perhaps we could have a picnic on the beach, we spent a lot of time there together this past year… Sit on the boardwalk where I, one could say, once regurgitated the contents of my alcohol-filled stomach with great gusto. You know. Very romantic.”

“Oh, yeah, real romantic…” Alex chuckled and then looked back up at Achilles. “Well we can still have the picnic, can’t we? Like, do I at least still get the flowers?”

“Absolutely not, you get nothing.”

“I get you.”

The quip came quick, and Achilles couldn’t help but blush as Alex crawled forward to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, whispering, “Happy Winter Star to me.”

Oh hell, in the span of three minutes, he’d nearly forgotten it was Winter Star—there was a schedule to keep! Achilles jumped off the bed and hurled Alex a dark green sweater he’d purchased for him the week before.

“Get dressed and brush your teeth. I baked some muffins and they taste best fresh.” He had scurried halfway to the kitchen when he remembered his promise and dashed back to give Alex a kiss of his own, only to be accosted with,

“You baked muffins—?”

*****

The muffins were good, the peppermint hot chocolate marginally less so (too much peppermint), but they took their vittles to the living room to lounge by the fireplace among the poinsettias and other decorations Achilles had put up in the two hours before Alex had woken.

He’d someone, somehow, forgotten to purchase a tree—absolutely ridiculous, who even was he? Truly, never mind all the half-eaten takeout, that was the real indication of his mental state earlier this season…—and worse, had only realized it after purchasing a (wildly expensive) set of silver and gold glass ornaments. With no choice but to improvise, he’d hung them from the mantel like stockings and strung the white string lights and ribbon across the beams of the ceiling.

As for the crystal star topper he’d spent two days scouring the web for—he had tied it to the top of the potted plant Elliott had gifted him so many seasons ago and placed it in the center of the coffee table alongside an admirable stack of gift bags and presents, each neatly labeled with the name of their recipient—Elliott, Leah, Emily, Shane, among others.

One gift bag was already empty, its contents and swathes of wrapping paper strewn across its giftee’s lap—a smart watch (the latest waterproof model, as Achilles had previously promised); a plush, embroidered towel; a pair of sneakers he knew Alex had been eyeing; and a bright blue bandana, a bag of treats, and a thin leather collar.

“But that’s all for Dusty, not you, just to be clear,” Achilles said, taking a peek into the gift bag Alex had handed him just as Alex experimentally unclasped the collar. “I mean. Unless you want to wear it, I won’t say no, exactly…”

Like a kid—the true Winter Star spirit—Alex dissolved into a fit of giggles so “disgustingly, overwhelmingly adorable” (as Achilles would say later that evening in a marginally more inebriated state) that Achilles’ cheeks couldn’t help but hurt from smiling so hard. To cap it off, Alex crawled across the couch to tackle him in a tight squeeze of a hug. “Thank you, Ash.”

For Achilles, Alex had gathered a selection of small goods, each accompanied by a handwritten little note: a mini umbrella (“Because you still haven’t baught one, you punk. Remember that time you left Penny and I in the rain?”); a cat shaped mug, complete with a lid with ears (“Because you always spill tea on yourself”); a nice set of waterproof notebooks (“Because I accidentally totally ruined that one notebook of yours that time we went out on the boat, and especially now that you write around water a bunch”); a sheet of colorful temporary tattoos (‘Because your always doing a good job every day!’), and finally, a framed photograph that Achilles didn’t quite recognize.

“It’s from my birthday party, when Haley was taking photos—she showed me this one a few weeks ago, and I just thought it was… nice.” Alex shrugged from over Achilles’ shoulder.

Now that he was taking a closer look, he recognized the game of beach volleyball going on in the background. It was a candid shot, for sure—Achilles half sprawled in the sand, laughing, after spiking the ball across the net. Alex grinning, kneeling down to help pull him up under the glow of the sunset.

Achilles held the frame between his hands and stared resolutely down at the photo, his eyes beginning to burn just the tiniest bit. “Thanks, Al.”

“Oh, but Voltaire, I’m so sorry, I’m the worst, I didn’t get you anything—”

With a small start, he looked up to witness Alex scooped up the maine coon in one fluid motion and bury his face in his fur.

*****

“So, which one of those is for the gift exchange?”

Post-violent cuddling, Voltaire had wriggled himself from Alex’s grasp and found a comfortable spot in Achilles’ lap, while Achilles himself had chosen to stretch across the sofa, his head in Alex’s lap. Alex subsequently had no lap to lie on, but he was now donning a giant green bow that Achilles had managed to violently stick to the top of his head after a couch-side tussle. Stuffed on muffins and hot chocolate, they had only a few minutes to go before they were to head over to Pelican Town for the community celebration.

“Hmm?” Achilles glanced back over at the presents surrounding the Potted Shrub of the Winter Star. “What gift exchange?”

“The one for the festival?”

“Fuck. What one for the festival?”

“The one—well it’s why the town shows up an hour early—Lewis didn’t tell you? I told him you never check your—”

“Fucking hell—”

“Oh, Achilles, when will you learn—”

Achilles bolted from the couch, sending Voltaire sprawling with an indigent “Meow!” to the ground, and sprinted out the door to the mailbox. With a huff, he wrenched the little flap open and scooped the entire contents to the snowy ground.

“Put a jacket on, put a jacket on—sheesh, man, you’re gonna get pneumonia again—” Alex, hopping bowlegged among the snow drifts, caught up a moment later, throwing a coat over Achilles’ huddled figure.

Advertisements, bills (that he paid online), and letters, so many letters—seriously, who was sending him mail these days? He hurriedly dug through the stacks of paper fluttering about on the ground, keeping an eye out for the pale green envelopes he knew Lewis was apt to use.

“‘Starting tomorrow, a traveling merchant fleet…’ No...”

Alex was helping now, too, squatting next to him, squinting at a cream sheet of cardstock in his hands. “‘Dear Ah—Ah—’ Geez Louise, is that really how your name is spelled or is my dumb bunny brain just kicking into overdrive? ‘One… week from today…’ Man, this is from last season, Ash—”

“Gift exchange? Like a Secret Santa-esque event? Fuck, I didn’t even opt into this, does Lewis just assume everyone wants to participate?” Achilles flung a belated invitation to Spirit’s Eve into the “discard” pile.

“Yeah, it’s kinda tradition…” Alex studied another sheet of cardstock carefully before adding it to the growing pile. “But heyyo, maybe you’ll have like Leah or Elliott, someone you already bought something for—”

“Oh, it’s going to be someone like… Demetrius. Or Caroline. Fuck, this is going to be so embarrassing—wait, oh my god.”

“What?”

“‘This is embarrassing… “

“It’ll be fine, we’ll figure something out—”

“No, no,I’m reading aloud—listen to this—

‘Achilles, this is embarrassing. I lost my lucky purple shorts. I’m telling you because I think I can trust you. If you find them, bring them back to me DISCREETLY. I’ll pay well. Th-th-thanks. M—Mayor—’” Achilles, whose voice had been remarkably increasing in pitch into teakettle territory as he read the note, began to succumb to his fit of laughter, barely choking out the final words. “‘Mayor Lewis.’ Pay well? Pay well? Does he realize who he’s trying to bribe?” He passed the note to Alex. “I can’t…”

“Holy moly—”

“I can’t. I wish I had found this earlier—”

“Yoba, why the heck does he think he can trust you, you literally just moved here this year—”

“God, and the thing is, now that I think about it, I have seen a pair of purple shorts—”

“Oh, Ash, we have five minutes before we need to go—”

“—but what did he expect me to do—”

“Ash—”

“—just waltz into her bedroom and grab ‘em from the floor—”

“Achilles—are you listening to me, we have five minutes—”

“All right, all right, all right….”

They continued to search, until finally, a little “Bingo!” indicated Achilles had found what they’d been looking for. He waved the envelope under Alex’s nose in celebration before unfolding the rest of the note.

“Read it aloud!”

“Why? You got the same damn lett—okay, okay, fine…

“’Dear Ashe Achilles…’”

He glanced up. “How is it that the bastard still can’t spell my name?”

“Maybe if you opened a letter once in a while you could’ve corrected him earlier.”

“Sassy. Ok—

“‘I would like to give you some information about an upcoming event: the Feast of the Winter Star. It’s a time for the community to come together and think back on all the good fortune we’ve had this year. A favorite tradition is the ‘secret gift exchange,’ where everyone in town is randomly assigned to someone else. On the day of the festival, everyone brings a gift for their secret friend—‘ Secret friend? Who says that? That sounds like something you’d call an affair partner—”

“Keep reading you punk!”

“’And surprise them with something special! This year, your secret friend is—” Achilles flipped over the letter. “Please don’t be Clint, please don’t be Clint, I haven’t spoken to him in— Oh. A thing like that.”

“Who is it?” In his anticipation, Alex nearly lost his balance from leaning so far over, but Achilles gave him a light shove.

“Well you know,” he folded the letter and gave it an aggravatingly pompous little tap as he inserted it back into the envelope. “Lewis says I’m not supposed to tell anyone…”

“I’m trying to help, man—”

“You. My ‘secret friend’ is you. Well.” Achilles stood, both arms full of mail that he fully intended to use as kindling that evening. “That makes it easy. Come on, let’s just put something back in the box, I’ll rewrap it and bring it to Pelican Town. Can’t show up empty-handed, don’t need Lewis telling me I’m a disgrace to the community or something…”

He padded back to the porch before turning back to Alex. “Damn, I’m sorry, Al. Could’ve surprised you with one more gift had I been a normal person and checked my mail…”

“It’s okay!” Alex opened the door and gestured for him to go in first. “You’re my surprise gift. Although if I can be honest…”

From behind, Alex embraced Achilles as they reentered the farmhouse, and, lifting him slightly off the ground, gave him a little spin—god, he would never in a million years get used to the feeling of being wrapped in those arms—“I think ya boy may have low key been calling you my boyfriend in my head since like our first date.”

“Oh yeah? You want to make Winter 13 our anniversary date instead? I’ve always felt sharing with a holiday halves the fun of both the holiday and the anniversary, so while you do get the same amount of fun overall, everything somehow feels… less… hmm. Saturated.”

“I’ll take your word for it, you of all people would know.” Alex sighed at the pile of mail Achilles had dumped unceremoniously onto the living room floor before unclasping his new watch from his wrist. “Let’s rewrap this one, let me flex my rich boyfriend on all those other Zuzu townies…”

*****

Crisis averted. Achilles had rewrapped the shoes (he had persuaded Alex that a gift as expensive and pseudo-flashy as the watch wouldn’t be in good taste for a public gift exchange, even though “Everyone knows you’re rich, Ash,” “I don’t even know how everyone knows, it’s not like I go around talking about it, that’s tacky as hell,” “Achilles, both your parents and you have Wikipedia pages and you singlehandedly fixed the town’s mining cart system.”) in a jiffy, and before they knew it, they were bidding farewell to Voltaire and making their way east to Pelican Town.

“Achilles, this is where we first met!”

Alex had given Achilles’ arm an eager little tug. He glanced at the approaching bus stop bench that Alex was gleefully pointing out. A year ago, they’d both dove under the stoop to hide from the Spring rain, but today the benches were soaked with melted snow that’d been blown under by this Winter’s temperamental winds.

“Oh. Sure, I suppose.” He craned his neck for a better look—why was Alex pointing this out?“We walk by this almost every day, Al.”

“Titanic?”

“Pardon? Now you’ve really lost me.”

“I was quoting Titanic. Remember? You quoted Titanic?”

“No, when did I quote Titanic?”

“Here, at the bus stop! Oh, wait no, my bad, actually, I take that back, you quoted Titanic that night on the boardwalk…”

“Oh, no wonder I don’t remember—”

“You called yourself a poor little rich girl.” Alex chuckled at the memory. “I hadn’t watched it at the time, but I rented it with Haley a couple weeks after...”

They were now parallel with the bus stop, and both stopped, standing side by side, to take a look.

“If it hadn’t rained that night, do you think we’d still be friends?”

“Oh, for sure, we would’ve met each other sooner or later…” Achilles shrugged. “Small town. Even smaller number of people who could pronounce my name correctly, appreciate mediocre children’s literature, and enjoy House of the Phoenix.”

“Yeah, that’s true…” Alex gave the bus stop a little tilt of his head before leading them onwards. “But even in a big town I like to think we would’ve found each other.”

They entered Pelican Town walking in step, and as their shoes hit well-shoveled cobblestone and the sounds of carols filled their ears, Achilles slipped his fingers through Alex’s, prompting a little “Ope!” to escape his lips.

“I thought you didn’t like holding hands?”

“Mmm. But you do.”

*****

Pelican Town was awash in pastel fairy lights twinkling like cotton candy stars across the snow. Massive candy canes, taller than Alex, rose from the ground alongside newly erected pine trees— smaller than the one in the center of the square, but ornamented with the same colorful cheer.

The fences had been wrapped in garlands of green and red and wreaths hung from ever home. There were no actual carolers, but the music was blasting merrily from speakers hidden deftly within massive, faux gift boxes scattered among the town.

Between the obvious festive cheer and the man standing next to him, Achilles’ heart couldn’t be set more aglow; he was holding onto Alex with both hands now, pulling him close as they laughed at nothing under the bright Winter sun. Yoba, even the temperature was perfect. Not a hint of wind now, and the snow was quickly fading to flurries… He hadn’t felt so carefree in years.

“Oh my! Aren’t you cold, dear? It’s freezing!” Evelyn, herself in a bright pink puffer jacket, greeted them with a hug each. “That coat looks much too thin, Achilles… perhaps you can grab one of Alex’s before Lewis arrives…”

The Festival didn’t open to the public until 1pm; the hour before was reserved for the townsfolk to celebrate, and they were all currently waiting for Lewis to kick off the gift exchange.

Achilles laughed—he was doing a lot of that lately—and waved aside her concerns. “I’m fine, but thank you, Evelyn.”

He was happy to see George greet his grandson, though the old man offered him only a stiff nod. Achilles wasn’t surprised; he was quite mindful of those beady eyes watching him grip Alex’s arm. But even so, it was an improvement over the silent treatment they’d both been receiving before.

But as Evelyn ruffled his hair, he felt something slap his thigh and he looked down to see George force a single, still-steaming snickerdoodle cookie into his hands.

“Oh. Thank you… for this, George, these are my favorite.”

George grunted.

Soon, Mayor Lewis arrived, and after gathering the townsfolk in front of the tree in the center of the square, gave a lofty speech espousing the usual values of community and friendship and holiday cheer before finally kicking off the gift exchange.

Achilles was given a tub of clay from Jas, which he accepted with a significant degree of feigned enthusiasm. Perhaps Leah would appreciate it. Shane’s god-daughter however, also handed him a second box that was revealed to contain a multipack of typewriter ribbon. He strongly suspected Shane must’ve intervened, a theory all but confirmed by the stout man’s intense stare as Achilles thanked the girl for the gifts.

They could hear the crowds beginning to form—the Feast of the Winter Star was allegedly the third most popular festival for the Valley (behind, of course, Zuzu Time’s #1 Ranked Spirit’s Eve Celebration 10 years in a row and the County Fair), though Achilles wasn’t exactly sure why, given the lack of activities. Truly, outside of Haley’s photo booth, the Feast was, as its name suggested, mostly just a feast.

It was free to attend, but donations were welcome. Achilles himself had donated five hundred dollars the preceding week, though apparently that hadn’t been enough for Lewis, who had cornered him halfway during the gift exchange, waving a metal tin under his nose and shouting something about “esteemed representatives of the community.”

But all things come to an end—including Lewis’ nagging, and when 1pm hit, Lewis had no choice but to leave Achilles alone and open the gates for the public. The Feast had officially begun!

*****

They had managed to snag a table before the majority of the newcomers streamed in, but the moment Gus declared the meals ready, Alex quickly leapt to his feet. “I can get us food—no, don’t get up! I’ll grab it, you stay here, don’t worry.”

He skipped over to wait in the already egregiously long line, leaving Achilles to fend for himself when Haley slipped into the seat next to him. She set her camera between them and folded her arms primly atop the table, giving a curt little nod in Alex’s general direction.

“Look at him,” she sniffed, not waiting for Achilles to follow her gaze. “It’s a strange thing to see, after knowing him all these years… Don’t get me wrong, he’s always been nice to all his girlfriends, you’re not special there. Keeping chivalry alive singlehandedly.”

Someone—a stranger, likely from Zuzu—approached them to take an open seat, but Haley shot the man the most disparaging look down the bridge of her nose, and he scampered away. She continued as if nothing happened, tracing a line down the tablecloth with a perfectly manicured finger.

“It was… different then, though. I always thought there was something… not inauthentic, per se, but you could tell the boy’s heart wasn’t really ever into it… Can’t believe I never called it, who even am I. Gay and asexual. Gaysexual? Who’d have thought, really, given the way that man allegedly fucked his way across campus sophomore year, though perhaps the ‘allegedly’ was really carrying all the weight this whole time—”

“Such a lovely way with words, you always have—”

“Anyway, all that to say, he still seems quite different with you. I don’t know how to describe it, exactly. Hmm… With you… Well.” Haley took a sip from her cider and slowly curled her fingers around Achilles’ gloved wrist. “He just worships the ground you walk on, doesn’t he?”

Achilles watched Alex chat with Stardew’s favorite troublemaking trio in line. He was easy to pick out from the masses; the bomber jacket he’d pretty much stolen from Achilles at this point; the way he stood, perfect posture with his heels slightly off the ground, like a bird ready to take flight; the precise angle at which he tossed his head back when he laughed.

Achilles smiled and turned back to Haley. “And I the air he breathes.”

“Quoting something? That sounds like a quote.”

“Mmm. Elliott’s novel, actually.”

She tittered. “What were the chances you think, of him actually choosing you?”

“I choose not to dwell on such inane, trivial matters.” Achilles took in her single raised eyebrow and rolled his eyes. “I don’t think about it. Why, you don’t approve?”

“Oh, please.” It was Haley’s turn to roll her eyes. “Do not ever ask me again if I don’t approve.”

And with a sharp flick of his nose, she stood and flounced away.

*****

Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam joined Achilles and Alex at their table, plates heaping with food rivaling that of even his parents’ party. Roasted carrots popping against slices of honey glazed ham, gravy-laden goose next to crispy green bean casserole, cranberry sauce dripping into steaming corn bread—Alex had made sure to grab him a slice of chocolate cranberry pavlova as well (“You gotta get the desserts right away, otherwise they’re all gone”).

As to be expected, Elliott and Leah soon followed, along with Penny and Maru. It was turning into quite the little Stardew Valley party over at their table; unfortunately Emily was stuck helping Gus with the catering, and Haley had returned to her photo booth.

“Oh darn it, I forgot the drinks—I’m going to get some hot chocolate, I think. Do you want one? No, no, you stay here, I’ll grab you one!” Alex bounded from his chair for the drinks station.

“Hi!”

A girl seemed to have popped out of thin air—early 20s, if Achilles were to venture a guess, with gold ringlets and rather blinding white teeth. Instinctively, Achilles found himself stifling a groan.

“The guy who just stood up—are you guys friends with him?”

It was Leah who responded, in her usual sardonic tone, hands perched primly under her chin. “Well, seeing as we’re all eating and talking together, I would venture to say… yes.”

The girl admirably remained unruffled and gave a little nod to another woman at the neighboring table. “My friend over there was just wondering if he was single, she was hoping to give him her number if so.”

Elliott let out a hearty guffaw, and, with Leah, naturally looked at Achilles.

This always happens, why does this always happen… He turned to look at the girl. “Ah. He’s my… partner.”

But she only furrowed her brow. “Partner? Like… business partner…?”

This time, it was Leah who snorted into her mashed potatoes, though Abigail and Sam’s eyes had both turned as wide as saucers at Achilles’ reveal.

A reveal it seemed he’d have to further clarify. “No… like, a boyfriend sort of partner. He’s my… boyfriend.”

It took everything in him to keep a straight face as Abigail and Sam flopped dramatically in their chairs and began beating the dining table with their fists.

“Oh—oh.” The girl turned red and took a step back. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing—of, course, I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot—I’ll tell my friend, but you two—you two make a gorgeous couple— like, gorgeous, so cute—okay, bye! Sorry for disturbing you, have a happy Winter Star!”

“Is this my life for the next… I don’t know, for the rest of my life?” Achilles asked just as Alex returned with two mugs of hot chocolate.

“Is what your life? Who was that woman you were talking to?”

“Jealous?” That was Abigail, jabbing her fork towards his general direction for emphasis.

“What?” Alex’s brows knitted in his confusion. “No—why would I be—”

“What else do women ever want went they approach us?” Achilles patted Alex’s hand as he took a swig from the mug. “You.”

Sam continued the bombardment, adding with a mock groan, “We get it, Alex, you’re hot. God, leave some for the rest of us, will ya—”

“—now doncha worry, Achilles told her you’re his partner—”

“Partner?” Alex turned from Abigail back to Achilles, who gave a little shrug. “Like… business partner?”

Oh, Alex…

But before he could explain, Maru jumped in. “A rapidly growing number of people around the country are using the word ‘partner’ these days in lieu of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when referring to their significant other. It’s a much more inclusive term, I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before—”

Achilles quickly cut in. “I’ve personally just never particularly loved using the word ‘boyfriend.’ But I don’t mind if you do, you can use whatever you’d like.” He placed a hand atop Alex’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze.

“Partner…” Alex seemed to roll the word around in his mouth, savoring the feel of those two syllables. “It sounds very adult. I can see why you like it, seems on brand.”

*****

After the feast came a performance from the Meteor Elementary children’s choir. Familiar faces, Achilles saw, peeking above red and white turtlenecks. He cheered alongside Penny, standing to applaud as the students took their bows.

Near the tail end of the Festival, as the sun began to set and the holiday lights began to flicker on, Lewis and his crew began to clean up the food-laden tables to clear some space in the square. The jolly carols that had been playing slowly transitioned to a more crooning series of tunes, as those who remained headed for the dance floor.

Neither Alex nor Achilles were particularly inclined to join, both rather full on one too many servings of ham; the former was deep in conversation with Megan and none other than Tanya from Orange Grove, while the latter was jotting down a sudden idea into a notebook propped against the edge of the table. But when his favorite Winter Star ballad came on, Achilles stood and offered his hand.

“Sorry, I don’t know how to do this right,” Alex shyly mumbled as Achilles led him to the floor and slid his free hand around his waist. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to put my hands—never done this with… well, you know…”

“Your boyfriend?”

“My partner?”

“In crime or business?”

Alex laughed and followed his partner��s lead, placing his hand on his back and leaning into his body, his cheek against Achilles’, with a small, satisfied sigh.

*****

“Well. Now comes the painful hour where I must release you to your forebears…”

Achilles, slightly tipsy now from a handful of unsuspectingly strong hot toddies, gave Alex a low bow before accidentally tripping forward.

“I’m not drunk,” he insisted, though he allowed Alex to scoop him up and then subsequently buried himself in his sweater, breathing in the lingering scents of garlic mashed potatoes and gingerbread, enveloping himself in his comforting warmth. “I just… lost my balance.”

“You don’t need to defend yourself. Need me to walk you home?”

“I don’t need it, but I mean… it is dark… who knows, I could get lost in the woods…” He walked his fingers up Alex’s chest as Alex chuckled softly and ruffled Achilles’ what had been meticulously styled hair.

“Woods my butt, the only thing between your house and town is the bus stop. But come on. Let’s get you back.”

The Festival had ended, the crowds had dispersed. The tree would stay up until the end of the season, but the rest of the decor was already being packed away by Lewis, Marnie, and the rest of the usual team.

Having lain claim to Alex that morning, Achilles now had to bid the man farewell, for Alex was to spend the evening with his grandparents. They walked back to Strawberry Farms, Achilles with his two-handed grip around Alex’s arm (“This is not for stability, because, again, I’m not drunk. I actually just really like you, believe it or not.”), with only the sound of snow crunching underfoot.

But he broke the silence as they passed the “Strawberry Farms,” sign Leah had carved for him, the paint looking just as fresh as it had when she’d given it to him that Summer, and half-tittered the chorus of a carol before asking, “Did you have a good Winter Star, baby?”

“The best.” Alex gently pulled himself out of Achilles’ grip to wrap his own arms around his waist as they walked. “This morning was my favorite part, though, I think.”

God, he was absolutely intoxicating—more so than any drink Achilles had had that night. Every part of him—his touch, his smell, even his voice, like whiskey burning through every one of Achilles’ veins.

“I love you, Alex,” he murmured. He could see Alex smile under the faint glow of the approaching porch light. Achilles stepped forward, kissed him softly, and whispered again, into his lips, “I love you so much.”

Alex responded by giving his nose a pinch (“Ow, what are you doing, it’s not even twitching.”). “Hey, you drink lots of water before you go to bed, you hear me?”

Achilles waved him off. “Yes, mother—I told you, I’m not drunk.”

“Sure, sure.”

“No I’m not, I had maybe two drinks… as if I’d dare over indulge in public like that. And in front of Lewis, no less… but don’t you worry, Voltaire and I are going to make a very strong cup of tea tonight with our new mug.”

“Good.” Alex kissed his cheek. “I love you.” And then, just before stepping off the bottom step into the dark, he turned and added, “Thank you.”

#llnks #sdv alex #winter star #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley oc #stardew valley alex #sdv fanfic #sdv fic

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