Buttercup was raised on a small farm in the
country of Florin. The farm had been in her family for
generations and it had been her great great great grandfather on her father's
side who built the main house all those years back. It had undergone numerous
changes over the years, just as her own family had. Her mother died when
Buttercup was very young, and Buttercup still missed her to this day. Her father
was starting to grow old. He no longer had the strength and energy to keep up
with the hard work that was running a farm, but he still drove the cattle and
sheep to market several times a year. Buttercup dreaded the day when he would
be unable to do even that or when, worse yet, he would leave and not return. And
then she would be alone in a farm of ghosts and memories.
Her favorite pastimes were riding her horse...
Though she was never completely alone, not really, so long as she had her
horse. Racer was a strong stallion, but his heart was warm and his heart was
kind. When she fantasized about the man she would one day marry, she oftentimes
imagined a man with similar qualities. And who could blame her? The most
thrilling part of her day was climbing up onto him and riding him through the
countryside and forests. He ran like the wind, his black mane catching the
breeze so that it lifted off his chestnut body and waved. She loosened the
reins and held onto his mane instead, liking the wild, unbridled spirit that
filled her as well. It was an escape, a freedom that took her far away from her
life and far away from what was expected.
...and tormenting the farm boy who worked there.
To handle the farm work Buttercup's father could not do, they acquired a hired
hand. He was younger than Buttercup had expected but youth was certainly an
advantage in his line of work. Also to his advantage was a quiet tongue. He
knew his place and he knew enough to obey at once when something was asked of
him, whatever it may be. At first it was a few small, strange requests here and
there which he had calmly and good naturedly complied with. When the tasks grew
in number or in difficulty, he gave her the standard answer and completed them
without complaint. That being the case, Buttercup had grown accustomed to
making requests of him that she would never do were he anyone else. But with
him, she actually rather enjoyed ordering him around whenever she saw him, just
to see how far he would go. And so far, there seemed to be no end in sight.
His name was Wesley, but she never called
him that. He was the farm boy when he arrived and he was the farm boy now
that he was there and settled. It seemed strange to even think to call him
anything else now, and he replied just the same as if she used his real name.
*
Nothing gave Buttercup more pleasure than
ordering Wesley around. And she always had something for him to do. From
the look of him during his first few days on the farm, it seemed that this was
a bad choice of work for Wesley. After what she saw, Buttercup had been certain
the farm boy would actually turn in his resignation and move on. But he had
surprised her in staying on, and continued to surprise her now and again, though
she would not make that known to him. No, their interactions were all rather
one-way.
"Farmboy?"
she called, guiding her horse out of the stable one bright and sunny afternoon.
As though pulled to her like a magnet, Wesley was there in an instant. She
might have thought that odd if not for the fact that it really was a small
farm. He walked over to her from the henhouse and wore an expression that let
her know he was at her command. "The stalls need to be mucked out. When I
return I want to see fresh hay and fresh food for Racer."
He looked
at her a moment, his head slightly cocked as though he wanted to say something
to her about the task. But then he smiled and nodded. "As you wish."
With grace,
Buttercup slipped her foot into the stirrup and mounted her horse. As the horse
went from a walk to a trot, she glanced back over her shoulder to see Wesley
heading into the barn. When he had disappeared from view, she clicked her
tongue against the top of her mouth and pressed her heels into Racer's side.
The horse sped to a canter for a brief moment, them broke into a gallop,
heading for the open fields.
It was a
full hour before she returned to the barn. Though her rides were usually longer
on average, she had a curious feeling about Wesley and wanted to return sooner
to see how he was coming along.
She led
Racer into the barn, noticing the fresh, yellow hay underfoot. His stall, as
well as those of the three other horses, had been cleaned out quite well. The
troughs all held crystal clear water and the buckets were all filled with oats.
To her knowledge, there was only one thing missing. And she took it upon
herself to point that out to him. "I assume you were just getting to the
alfalfa, were you?" She smiled slyly.
He paused,
hesitating far longer than was natural, then nodded and headed to the very back
of the barn. He was there for a few minutes before he returned, carrying two large
blocks of the green straw. Sensing Buttercup's critical eye upon him, Wesley went
first to Racer's stall with the block. He dug his fingers in, pulling at it until
it came apart with a small bit of green dust. Some went into the separate feed
bucket, and some went on the ground. Racer went straight for it with an
appreciative whinny.
Wesley
moved on to the next stall, rubbing his nose into his shoulder as he broke the
block apart. The horse nuzzled into his side to get to the alfalfa, chomping
and nibbling, Wesley had to move his hand out of the way quickly to allow the
horse to get to the food. Then he headed to the back of the barn again.
Buttercup
could not see him there, but she could hear him. There was the sound of
shuffling, which Buttercup assumed was Wesley picking up more blocks. Following
this was a pause and then two sharp, strong sneezes. "IHChoo! H'Choo!"
He was
rubbing the back of his wrist against his nose when he appeared again, holding
another block against his chest. He headed over to another horse's stall and doubled
over with sneezes before he could do anything. "HehhChoo! HihhChoo! IhhhChooo! IHHChoo!" He dropped the alfalfa and
cupped both hands to his face. "HIHChoo!
IhhhShooo! HihSHOO!" Blinking back tears, Wesley sniffed repeatedly and
reached down for the block.
Buttercup
took a few steps forward so she could see him more closely. She saw his nose
twitching and body tensing, and she knew he was fighting more sneezes. He
rubbed a thumb and forefinger at his eyes. A few moments later, he pinched his
nose and she could tell he was losing the fight. He was also only halfway
finished with his task.
"Farmboy?"
she said, clearing her throat just prior to sound in-charge. "You're not having
trouble with this, are you?" She smirked and amusement rang in her voice. She continued to watch him struggle.
He looked
back at her and shook his head. Then his breath caught and he pitched forward
again. "hehhhhChoo! H'Shooo! HuhhShoooo!"
With a hand cupped to his face, Wesley managed to set the block down on the
feed bucket and tear it into a few large pieces.
Figuring
the horse could do the rest, he backed up, holding both hands to his face now. His
blond hair flopped into his face and his blue-green eyes were slightly
bloodshot. "hehh-EHShooo! hehhhShooo!
Huhhh-Shooo!" He leaned against the door to the stall for support. "hahhhhShhhh!"
Buttercup
grew worried now. While it had been amusing at first to see him struggling a
bit, he seemed unable now to breathe or do much else, including retrieving any
more alfalfa. With the quickness of the arrival of the sneezes, Buttercup was
certain this could not be the work of a sudden cold. She had a feeling she knew
its cause, and she was starting to feel awful about it. "Farmboy," she began,
and he tried his very best to look at her between the onslaught of sneezes. "It's
the alfalfa, isn't it?"
"hahh-Shooo!" He managed a nod. "hihhhChoo!"
Buttercup
sighed and slowly made her way over to him. "Why did you not tell me it
bothered your nose so?"
Wesley was
doubled over now, hands to his face, sniffling as often as sneezing. The only
breaths he was able to get were gasps or build-ups. He rubbed at his nose and
his eyes but continued to keep at least one hand cupped to his face. "hehShooo! Hihh-Shooo!" However, even if
he had wanted to say something to her, he was completely unable to do so.
Buttercup
pulled a thin, lace handkerchief from her pocket and extended it to him. She
felt badly for him, and held it out with a sympathetic look.
Too busy
sneezing, Wesley did not see it in order to take it. "hehhh-Shoo! hehhShuhh!"
She sighed
to herself and walked right over to him, shaking the handkerchief so it
unfolded. She put it right into his hands, which were cupped to his face, forcing
him to take it and use it.
As his hand
closed around it, his fingertips just barely brushed hers. He pulled away from
her, sneezing into the handkerchief, then gathering his breath enough to blow
his nose.
Mercifully,
that slowed his sneezes enough for Wesley to give her an apologetic look. He
opened his mouth to speak, but snapped forward with yet more sneezes. "heh-Choo! hahhhShooo!"
Buttercup
thought again of the job she had given him, and did not want him to think she
was going easy on him. He needed to know what was expected of him around the
farm. However she could not possibly make him do something that caused him to
sneeze so very much.
Decidedly,
she took hold of his arm in order to guide him out of the barn. The fresh air
would do him good, as would a fresh drink of water. "Come," she instructed.
He stood
his ground a moment, blowing his nose. Then he sniffled and straightened up. He
followed her outside at once to a spot outside the barn. He knelt down on the
ground, leaning against the side of the barn and rubbing his eyes. Wesley
looked about, sniffling, and spotted a water trough just a few feet away. Without
a second thought, he moved over and dunked his head underwater.
He pulled
it back out, emerging wet and slightly cold, but refreshed. He threw his head
back, his back arching, with a stretch. His eyes did not seem to itch as much
now and his nose felt a bit soothed as well. The sneezes were not completely gone,
however. "ehhh-Chooo! hehh-Shoo!" He
sat back against the side of the barn with a sigh. Water dripped down, onto his
shirt, making him shiver slightly. Then he looked up at Buttercup
apologetically.
She
regarded him with a similar expression on her face. "Sit here until the sneezes
pass. I will go get you some tea." She patted his arm gently. "I will be right
back. Just rest and take deep breaths." Nothing
gave Buttercup more pleasure than ordering Wesley around.
He looked
up at her through long, dirty blonde bangs. Their eyes met for a long moment,
then he nodded. Buttercup stood and headed towards the house. Wesley smiled and
whispered after her, "As you wish." 'As
you wish' was all he ever said.