Haley Thistle
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Roann the Warden: Part One (complete)
🕑 Added 2022-06-29 19:00:05 +0000 UTC
Male Reader x Male Monster (both cis)
At the beginning, you weren’t afraid about making this journey on your own. You had traveled it many times with your father before, so you knew the route like the back of your hand. Or...so you thought. You had assured your family you could do this on your own. As your father was ill, he was apprehensive to send you out, but the money was needed. With a heavy heart, your family bid you farewell that one chilled morning.
The chill was long gone though and it was frigid now. Snow had covered the earth in the span of one restful sleep and you could no longer tell your left from your right.
“Confarned snow.” Your grumbling came out in thick white clouds. It had been lucky that the inn keeper had given you an extra scarf and gloves when you left. Your horse was doing his best, trudging through the cold snow while no doubt being frozen himself.
“We’ve got this Mortimer.” You stroked his neck and he huffed as if disagreeing with you. “I’m pretty sure we’re on the path.” Your eyes darted around, trying to recognize the scenery. The snow made it almost impossible to tell what was new and what was familiar.
“Yeah,” you agreed with yourself. “We’re on the right route.”
Time went on, and while you expected another small village to be around the bend, all you found was a frozen lake.
“This is new.” You stopped Mortimer and climbed off his back. You approached the lake, staring across it as your stomach sunk into the deepest depths. “I don’t think there was ever a lake on our trips before.”
Mortimer huffed.
“Okay, you were right,” you grumbled. “Let's head back. Maybe we can get our bearings.” You climbed back up onto Mortimer, jostling the saddlebags that contained the silverware you were supposed to be selling.
“We’ll give this one more go, okay boy?” You patted Mortimer’s neck, but he didn’t seem too pleased to be turning around.
It was getting dark and you were growing hungry. All day you’d been traveling a path you thought you knew, but now you were realizing you had just traveled two completely unknown routes.
You stopped and found a place where the trees had kept a lot of snow from falling on the ground. As you cleared it out to make a fire, you smiled for Mortimer.
“We’ll rest here for the night. Okay boy? I’ll build us a nice fire and you can graze on these bushes.” You knocked snow from them. “We’ll head back in the morning!” You tried to sound optimistic, but your stomach hadn’t risen back up since the lake.
Once your small fire was built, you leaned back against a tree and ate something from your bag. The fire crackled and popped, flickering shadows everywhere. The way the snow twinkled in the light of the flames was almost beautiful.
The heaviness of sleep settled on your shoulders and eyelids. Though you knew you needed to stay awake, the exhaustion of the day was getting to you. If only you had stayed at the inn a day longer, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. You drifted to sleep against the tree.
A crack on the side of your head roused you from slumber. You looked up to see an attacker standing over you, delivering a kick to your face. You fell to the ground, laying on your stomach to cover yourself. Mortimer was making a racket as other voices were hollering about the silver in the saddlebags.
“Stop!” You cried out, but it was a worthless endeavor. Your attacker hit you again and they started searching through your clothes. They bent your arms back to keep you still while someone else stood on your legs. When they found nothing they both kicked you over, and over, and over.
You thought you were going to die. You started crying, praying you could see your parents one last time. You covered your head and prayed you didn’t suffer for long.
A roar that chilled the air more than the snow stopped your robbers. They moved away from you, breathing panicked words.
“Leave the fucker for the Wardens!” One said.
Another roar shook the wind and the attackers fled.
You laid there shaking and breathing, watching as the snow turned pink then red. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you reached out your hand to try and claw at the earth. You couldn’t feel anything and feared this was the first step towards death.
Footsteps approached you and something stepped through the trees and underbrush. You saw great big feet covered in white fur. Your eye was swollen shut, so you couldn’t look up to see who was approaching you.
A deep voice spoke in a language you couldn’t understand, or maybe the attackers had kicked the brains from your head. The creature came closer, sniffing the air and muttering to themself. After a moment it knelt down and placed something warm over you. This, you thought, meant you were dead, and the creature was giving you some privacy in your final moments. Some comfort, whatever it was.
You woke a second time, warm but still in pain. You breathed in the scent of a fireplace with a cauldron simmering over it. The savory scent of meat and broth with crackling firewood. Your whole body hurt, not an inch was spared.
“I didn’t think the afterlife would carry over any pain,” you muttered to yourself. A bit of blood collected on your tongue from a bite you’d left in your cheek. “Fuck.” You cupped your hand over your face and there were bandages on your head.
“The human rises.” The deep voice flows through the room.
You turn slightly, wincing at the pain in your shoulder as you did. Across the room there is a great figure by the fireplace.
“Be you angel or demon?” You asked.
“Neither.” The massive creature stepped towards you. “I am warden.”
You looked up, only able to make out a cascade of thick white hair. “Oh, an angel,” you murmured softly.
“Warden,” your angel repeated. “You are not dead.”
“How did that happen?” You muttered.
A candle was lit and you could see the creature above you. He was all pale, soft white and shades of rosy pink. He had long white hair and a beard tied off into two sections. He had tusks and ears that pointed back like horns.
“I found you in time,” he replied.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “Must have ruined your day.”
He cut his eyes at you, all black except for the ring of summer sky blue in the center. “You can heal here,” he stated. “Roann will see to it.”
You were just relieved to be alive. “Oh how nice of them. Who is that?”
“Kicked hard,” he sighed. “I am Roann.”
You smiled dreamily. “Well, aren't you lovely?”
Roan frowned and placed his massive palm over your forehead. “Slight fever, but it will go down with some rest.”
You placed your hand over his, feeling the soft fur on the back of his palm. “My horse,” you gasped. “Mortimer. Where is he?”
“Taken. But I know who attacked you.” he moved his hand away and placed yours back upon your chest. “Can you eat something?”
“Can I?” You chuckled. “I can eat anything and everything.”
Roann sighed. “It’s best you eat something to help build your strength.” He then placed his hand behind your back and propped you up on pillows.
You growled in pain, wanting to fall off the bed and flop like a fish.
“I know it hurts,” Roann murmured. “But it is temporary.”
“It feels like forever,” you whined.
Roann left your side. And whether it was the pain causing you some clarity, you were starting to take in your situation.
“I didn’t think wardens took kindly to humans,” you murmured. “I must have been in a real sad state for you to take me in.”
Roann filled a bowl with whatever was in his cauldron. “We don’t get along. But we do not leave souls to fade.”
You wheezed as you looked down at yourself, seeing ugly blotches and bruises all over your body. “That’s nice.”
The bowl Roann offered was massive, but the food inside looked beyond appetizing. Chunks of meat and vegetables floated in a gravy like broth. It was all so tender and soft you barely needed to chew, which was a good thing, as the right side of your face felt like a crumbling muffin.
“What is a man like you doing alone out there?” Roann asked.
“Being lost,” you huffed. You were aggravated with yourself.
Roann nodded. “Obviously.”
You sighed heavily. “I should have stayed home. But with dad being sick we needed the money. Now I lost Mortimer and the silver.”
“Your horse will be returned,” Roann said, sounding rather cryptic. “Silver, I cannot say. For now, you eat and rest.”
“All my life I’ve wanted someone to tell me that,” you murmured.
Roann grumbled something under his breath in his native tongue. He rose and returned to his seat by the fire.
No matter how much you ate, the bowl never seemed to empty. Then again it was almost the size of your mother’s favorite serving dish.
“Your stew is really good. What is it?”
Roann barely looked up from the fire. He glanced back over his shoulder where his white hair shimmered just as beautifully as the snow had.
“Venison,” he answered. “And whatever I find in the woods.”
“You found a winner, but I don’t think I can finish all of this.”
Roann came to your bedside, taking the bowl from you. “You are rather small.”
You pouted, but since he saved your life you let it slide. “Thank you. Once I’m better, I’ll try and repay you.”
“I didn’t do it for a reward.” Roann walked back to his seat, turning up the bowl and finishing off your leftovers with one mouthful.
To your surprise, his mouth opened further than what you’d seen. The jaw unhinged at his tusks, cutting back along his beard-line and to his sharp ears. You had heard lots of stories about wardens as a child. Your father said as long as you respect them, they’ll respect you. Others claimed they were vicious and cared not for the lives of humans. They were massive beasts, eight feet tall, and every inch bloodthirsty. But your father always reminded you that sometimes stories were created to excuse one's fears.
You faded in and out a lot for the first few days. But after a while you felt the need to get up and move around. Roann, despite his size, was a gentle presence as you tried to amble about.
“You heal well,” Roann said as he checked the bandages on your head.
“I have a good doctor,” you laughed.
Roann looked into your eyes for a brief moment before taking off the bandages. You felt tender, but at least your eye wasn’t swollen anymore. You smiled, touching the warm, bruised skin.
“They really did a number on me, didn’t they?”
Roann’s thumb smeared a sticky slave over your bruises. “Could have been worse. I have seen them use knives more than I have seen them kick. Consider yourself lucky.”
You hissed. “I really was lucky. I didn’t get stabbed and you came to my rescue. Considering how lost I had gotten, I should be dead.”
Roann’s touch smoothed down to your chest and your stomach twisted into knots. “You have more to do. So they keep you here.”
Your throat was dry, so when you opened your mouth your voice cracked at first. “They?”
Roann just grunted as his strong hand rubbed slave into your skin. “I will go tomorrow and find your horse.”
You looked into his eyes. “You don’t have to do that. You’ve done enough.”
Roann acted like he hadn’t heard you. “I will ask someone from the village to come check on you. But I should not be gone long.”
“No, I’m serious. You don’t have to stick your neck out like that for me. You really have done enough!” You tried to sound forceful. But compared to Roann you knew you probably sounded like a yapping dog to him.
Roann put his hand on the top of your head. “I will do as I please. Those thieves don’t just hurt you, they have hurt the village many times as well.”
You gulped. “Hard to believe looking at you.”
“I don’t fit in well with the village, but I do what I can to keep all of us safe.” He stood and placed the jar of salve away.
You slipped your tunic back on, fumbling with the ties. “I still feel like I should owe you something. You saved my life, it’s not much, but it’s worth something.”
Roann didn’t answer, he just returned to his business around the fireplace.
The next morning you woke and there was a different warden in the house. You sat up with alarm and the female warden looked you over. Her long hair was tied in separate braids, and she wore a dark purple poncho. Under it, there was a baby whose head barely peaked from the collar.
“Where’s Roann?” You gasped.
“Gone,” she stated calmly. “He asked me to check on you. Which was a surprise from Roann.”
As the woman turned you saw golden strands woven into her poncho. The eyes of the baby opened and looked at you from it’s snuggly cave.
“How so?”
“He is a loner, even when he was a child in our home,” she replied. “Rarely comes into the village, and has never taken a mate.” Her eyes fell on you again. Hers were more lavender than blue, like Roann’s. “Seeing him keep a human was a shock.”
“Same here,” you murmured. “So...are you his sister?”
“I am. Roka is my name.”
“Nice to meet you. Do you know when he left?”
Roka sat by the fire and bounced her baby. “He was gone before I arrived. He likes dealing with the thieves though. He says that since he does not participate, then he should protect.”
“I really was lucky then.”
“You were,” Roka laughed. “Anyone else and you might have been taken to the nearest human village. But my brother has always had a fascination with humans.”
“Really?”
Roka smiled down at her baby who was cooing happily. “Roann always got in trouble for getting too close to them. He said he found your kind cute.”
“I see-” You weren’t sure why that revelation made you feel disappointed.
Over the next two days, Roka came and checked on you. Sometimes while she dealt with food or something around the hut she left her baby with you. The baby was tiny and chubby, but compared to you the little one was actually quite big. But the baby was cute all the same.
In the evening on the second day the door opened and Roann walked back in. He dropped a heavy sack from his shoulder onto the ground and he exhaled heavily as he stepped inside.
“Is it done?” Roka asked.
Roann nodded.
Roka patted his cheek and Roann rubbed the head of the baby. “I will return home then. Your human is back in your care.” She left, shutting the door behind her.
You approached Roann nervously, unsure of what to do or say as he stood there breathing hard.
“Are you alright?” You asked.
“Only a knife,” he grumbled. He went to his seat in front of the fire, removing his clothes and leather armor. You saw a stab wound on his abdomen and cuts all over his hands.
“You’re hurt!”
Roann shook his head. “I am fine.”
You got the salve he had been using on you and opened the jar. “Here, let me help!”
Roann caught your hand before you touched him. There was a look in his eyes as he gazed down upon you, one that tied your stomach in knots again.
“It’s the least I can do,” you said shakily.
“If you touch me-” Roan’s voice faltered and he looked away.
You hesitated before speaking again. “What?”
“It's fine,” he growled. “I would use the salve anyway.”
You stood before him, seeing his chest bare for the first time. You swallowed and tried to apply the salve as gently as he had all those times before. His stomach flinched, tightening as you put your hand upon him. He grunted, keeping his head turned and his hand around his jaw.
“Does it hurt?” You asked.
Roann shook his head. “No.”
There was a twitch of his leg and he tightened his thighs together. You could almost see something along his leg, but he cleared his throat and turned your attention.
“Your horse is in the stable in the village,” he grumbled. “And I gathered what silver that had in their stash.”
Your eyes widened. “You got Mortimer back?”
Roann’s eyes flicked to you. “It was nothing. Honestly, they were less of a threat than I had originally assumed. The journey there and back took me more effort than dealing with them.”
“I don’t think you get what this means to me. I’ve had Mortimer since he was born-” You started choking up. “You’ve been so kind.”
“Hush now.” Roann cupped his hand around your face. “I told you before, this was something that needed to be done.” He kept his hand on your face.
“Besides that.” You looked up into his eyes. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Roann’s brow pinched. “I don’t want it.”
There was a calm between the two of you, a stillness that felt eternal. His hand rested on your cheek, your fingers on his belly. There was a breath and you thought it might bring the whole world down. Instead Roann kissed your forehead and let his lips linger there.
“You missed my mouth,” you murmured. You sat up more, standing on tiptoe, pressing your lips against his. He remained still and inside your stomach was dancing.
