Sweet Dreams

Hours had passed since Jerick and Rachel had begun talking. The festival had died down with the majority of the village folk passed out on the tables surrounding the fire. Mugs lay scattered across the floor with small puddles of ale surrounding a few, not quite finished mugs. The small man that had tried to get Rachel to dance with him, lay next to the fire, his hands resting on his gut, moving up and down with his breath. While Jerick never laid a hand on the small man, his right eye was a shiny black and purple hue, swollen shut from the debauchery of the evening.

Jerick and Rachel had been staring at the dancing flames for the last few minutes, sitting in the silent comfort of each others company. Jerick broke the silence by standing up, and extending his hand out to Rachel. She grabbed hold of his hand, helping herself up to her feet.

"Allow me tuh walk you home", said Jerick, cocking his mouth up in a half smile.

"I would like that." Rachel had her hands folded across her waist, one on top of the other. Jerick led her out to the road leading towards her house. Each step they took on the road was accented by light of the trillions of stars above. They walked in majestic silence, only the quiet chirps of crickets could be heard off in the distance. A soft breeze brushed against the faces of both, sending shivers down their spines, swelling their skin into a plethora of goosebumps.

"Did you enjoy the evening?" Jerick asked.

"Very much so." Rachel said excited about the subject. "The festive dancing and music was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. We didn't have anything like it back in Sydnathia."

"Oh, I had forgotten this was yar first festival. 'Twas a shame you had arrived mere days after last year's."

"Yes, when my father and I arrived, everyone in the village was still going on about last year's festival."



They had arrived at Rachel's home, Jerick walking beside her to the door. A candle was lit in the upper window of the house, its light shining down on the doorstep they were standing upon. They stood staring at each other for several moments, the light emanating off both their faces. Finally, Jerick bent down towards Rachel's face as if he was going to kiss her. Just as his lips were about to meet her's, he tilted his head to the side of Rachel's face. In her ear he whispered "Have sweet dreams," then pecked her on the cheek.

Rachel blushed as she smiled with more warmth than the festival fire up at Jerick, who stood, smiling back at her. "Goodnight," Rachel said warmly, tucking her head through the door, closing the door behind her.

Jerick left Rachel's house, making his way back to his own. After he was out of view from Rachel's house, he rushed home as fast as he could. Thoughts of the evening buzzed around in his head more excited than an angry hornet. As he got to his house, he opened the door and dashed up the stairs. He ignored the moaning sounds coming from his brother's room and went straight for his own. Once inside, Jerick plopped onto his bed, pulling his sheets over himself as he closed his eyes. He drifted off to sleep, grinning from ear to ear.

The Festival

People were already dancing around the fire, when Jerick arrived at the festival. Most had a mug of ale in one hand and the hand of their dancing partner in the other. Giant spits were mounted above the fire, each slowly roasting a pig. Grease dripped down into the fire, creating a flare that shot up with a crackle. Two village men stood beside each spit, rotating it every few seconds, each man with a mug of ale in his free hand. As Jerick glanced around, most of the villagers' faces were already rosy red from the ale, those that weren't were working on it.

Off to the side, Jerick's brother sat at a table covered with food. Christoph had each arm around a different lass, a mug in one hand and a turkey leg in the other. He was rocking back and forth with the women singing along to the music, ale spilling out with each movement. The three were laughing heartily, there faces curled up into a confused, yet happy, drunken expression. As Christoph went to take a bite from his turkey leg, he caught a glance of Jerick. He shot up onto his feet, nearly knocking his two lady friends off their chairs. His arms extended outwards, welcoming his brother.

"Jerick! Nice of you tuh finally join us! 'Ere, have a mug of ale." Christoph bent over grabbing one of the mug's of his lady friends, and handed it to Jerick. Before Jerick could question the actions of his brother, Christoph was pushing the mug to his face. "Drink, Drink! HAHAHAHA." He howled as he collapsed back into his chair, returning his arms around his two wenches. Christoph leaned over to the left, nearly sucking the tongue out of his lady friend's mouth, then turned over to the right and did the same.

Jerick found a chair a few seats down from his brother, and sat, taking a few drinks from his mug. He liked the music, and the overall atmosphere that the festival brought. The feasting, the dancing, the merriment of the drink, it was all good. As Jerick lowered his now empty mug, he found Rachel sitting beside him.

Rachel was relatively new in the village, moving in about a year prior. Jerick had only formally met her once, and that was when he was helping construct her home. But, over the course of the year, they had exchanged several, more than friendly glances with each other. It was always Jerick's intention to get to know her better, but that however was made difficult by the workload Jerick had had over the year.

"Hello, I believe we've met before,.... Rachel is it?" Jerick said, as though he was digging up the name from a graveyard of memories. In reality, Jerick remembered her name the instance he saw her.

Rachel smiled with a warm kindness, "You were one of the men that helped build my home, were you not?" Rachel asked falsely. Jerick could tell she also could also clearly remember who he was.

Before Jerick could reply, a man flew wildly out of the dancing crowd, crashing into the table next to Rachel. Out of reaction, Rachel leaped back, out of the way, being caught by Jerick. Jerick didn't realize he had caught her till after the fact. Her face blushed pink as she tried to hold back a smile. As Jerick let go of her, and the man who had crashed into the table got up, staggering to his feet.

"Ey dehr pretty ladty, why uhn ya come 'ance with meh." The man's speech was so slurred it was difficult to make out one word from the next. After making his offer to Rachel, he performed a provocative motion with his hips, thrusting them forward then back, and then forwards again. "'Um on litt'le ladeh, I can show ya a gud tiem. Heh heh heh."

Jerick stood up at that statement. Standing tall, Jerick was at least two feet taller and easily a hundred pounds heavier than the scrawny shrimp of a man. The man stumbled back, his jaw trembling in fear from the shear colossal nature of Jerick's size. The drunk man turned around and trying to make his way back into the dancing crowd, zigzagged back and forth, falling over several times.

Rachel turned, facing Jerick, a smile stretched across her face. "Thank you," she said, as she curled some of her long brown hair around her finger. Jerick couldn't help himself from staring at her. Her amber eyes glistened in the yellow flickering flames of the fire. Her voice was soft and melodic, enchanting with each spoken word. For hours, they sat, finally getting a chance to talk and get to know each other.

Preparing for the festival

When Jerick walked through the door of his home, he found that it was empty, his brother had already left. On the table, where his brother had been eating earlier that morning, was an empty grapefruit half turned on its side by the weight of the spoon sitting inside. Jerick shook his head at the absentmindedness of his brother and picked up the grapefruit, disposing of it by placing it into the compost trash. He took the spoon and placed it in the sink beside the rest of the dirty dishes. The dirty dishes his brother was supposed to clean.

Upstairs, Jerick was trying to pick out an outfit to wear to the festival. Dressing up wasn't something he did very often, and on this special occasion, he was hoping to impress a particular someone. A short, long sleeved tunic was pulled out from his closet, with a pair of hemp pants. The tunic was silver with dark blue trimming along the sleeves and neck. The pants were a soft, yellowish orange, honey color, with black buttons leading up to the waist. Jerick pulled both on with impressive speed, making sure to tuck the tunic into his pants. He finished off his outfit, by taking his brown belt with a black half dome buckle, and fastening it around his waist. After putting his cocoa brown, suede shoes on, Jerick left the house, excitement swelling in his chest.

Working the fields

Jerick arrived at the corn fields to find his fellow workers already working. He was puzzled that they had arrived before he had, since he had left just after the sun had begun to rise. It was unusual for his fellow farmers to be here on time, not to mention earlier. Piles of corn had already been bunched up beside the last standing row of corn in the fields.

"'Ts nice of you tuh finuhlly join us Jerick." Malvin said, as he threw an armful of corn stalks into a pile. Jerick and the other farmer, Malva, laughed at the irony.

Malvin was a middle aged man, at least twice Jerick's age. Where furrows normally burrowed into one's face, Malvin had permanent trenches dug out between his eyes. His expression appeared as though he was squinting to read the world's smallest text, or perhaps was just excessively angry. While a smile was drawn out along his face, Jerick was never sure if it was from being happy. The smile combined with his exaggerated brow was an unusual expression to say the least.

"Guess I'm not the only one 'cited for the festival tonight then, eh?" Jerick said in reply. Jerick approached the group of cornstalks beside Malva and begun to cut them down. He would grab an armful, throw them into a pile behind him, and then move on to the next group of stalks in the row.

After throwing some stalks to the ground, Malva reached over and dipped his thumb and index finger into a pouch hanging from his waist. His fingers came out coated in animal lard. He rubbed some onto his lips and then massaged the rest into his hands. He turned over to Jerick and asked, "Wouldjya like some lard for ya lips? I knows you gots gloves but dis weather is prime for lip chappin."

Malva was brother to Malvin, whether older or younger, Jerick wasn't sure. Both shared almost all of the same features, with the main difference being about three inches of height, in Malvin's favor. At one point, Jerick wondered if they were twins, but hesitated to ask. He didn't want to offend the older brother if there was one.

Jerick accepted Malva's offer of lard, removing the glove from his right hand to scoop some lard up from the pouch. Dipping his finger into the pouch was a bizarre experience. The contents felt warm and squishy and somehow almost wet. Jerick pulled out his finger and applied the lard to his lips, pressing his lips to together, sliding them back and forth. He couldn't keep the taste from seeping into his mouth, but didn't mind it once it had. It tasted salty like bacon, with a smokey back flavor.

Hours passed and the afternoon started setting into a twilight sky. The sun emanated red and purple light through strips of clouds lining the sky. Jerick swung his sickle severing the last stalk of corn from the field and threw it into the last pile. He wiped the collecting sweat from his brow, glancing over at Malvin who was bundling up the last pile of corn. Malvin took the bundle and carried it over to the cart containing the rest of the corn, and threw it in.

"Welp I guess were finished den." Malvin said, walking back towards Jerick and Malva. "Don'tchyu worry 'bout the corn, I'll wheel it into deh village."

"Thanks Malvin. I'll see you at the festival then?" Jerick said.

"Aye. Both me and Malva will be dehr; dat you can be sure of."

Jerick waved goodbye and headed back to his home, to ready for the festival that evening.

The Harvest

The sun peeked over the eastern mountains, shining its warm light through the window and onto Jerick's face. His eyes clenched uncomfortably from the brightness. He raised his hand to shield the sunlight while sitting up in his bed. The sunlight felt warm and comforting, like a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Jerick swung his legs over the side of his bed letting out a yawn, then got up and walked across the room to his dresser. He grabbed his grey work tunic with matching wool pants and pulled them on. After sweeping his leather gloves off the top of his dresser, he headed out his bedroom door.

Downstairs, Jerick's brother, Christoph, sat at the table eating breakfast. A spoonful of grapefruit was lifted to his mouth, but paused as it reached his lips.

"Headed off to work are ya?" Christoph said, inserting the spoonful of grapefruit into his mouth.

"Aye. Today is the day of the harvest festival and there is still much work to be done." Jerick walked over to the cabinet beside his brother, opened it, and pulled out his sickle. He grazed his thumb across the blade, measuring the sharpness of the edge. The blade scraped his thumb, demonstrating the sharpness it still had. Sickle in hand, he walked over to the front door. Jerick opened his mouth to talk, but was interrupted by the loud wet slurping noises of his brother. Christoph was sucking on his spoon.

"...Are you not working today?" Jerick finally asked over the suckling sounds of his brother.

"All the hides have been tanned, and all the meat cut. My work is already finished." Christoph's face stretched into a big toothy grin. "I am just going to relax and eat grapefruit all day; I need to be rested for the festival tonight."


"I wish I could do the same." Jerick replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Well unlike you, I do have work to do. I'll see you later at the festival." Next to the front door were his shoes, which he pulled on before leaving the house, heading to the corn fields.