How To Fall From Grace [MxM]

Step 25: Fall like rain

They were so in over their heads.

Frey stared out over the country house grounds, wincing at every hedge and weed covered path and withered, overgrown flower beds, and that was just the garden. He'd asked his mother to send their servants over for some minor preparations before their arrival, but apparently they'd chosen to focus on the interior.

"Looks like you got your work cut out for you," Vidar Fjærhaug, the farmer living closest to the estate and subsequently their neighbour, said after introducing himself to Marius. "I'd offer to help but there's a lot to do back home and I'm afraid time is working against me. It's already rather late."

"You're already doing so much for us," Marius insisted with his signature charm, gesturing to the big cart tied to Vidar's horse. "You brought us all this hay and food. We couldn't ask for more."

"Well, the money we would have made on selling our produce to the grocer in town cannot compare to using Lord Clausson's land for free just to provide for the two of you." He turned to Frey. "Whole family's happy to see you back, you know? The children began pretending this was a haunted house, what with the overgrown garden and dark windows all around."

"It's... regrettable." Frey was unsure how to handle the criticism. His family's reason for not showing up for a few years was understandable and he had every chance to make a snarky remark or backhanded comment, all with a smile on his face, but he suspected Marius wanted him to be nice. Wholeheartedly, non threateningly nice. "Different properties aside, being surrounded by neglect leaves a poor impression of the whole area, and I as the land owner should take that seriously."

He conjured a disarming smile.

"But we will set things right again, and we're ever so grateful for your assistance with food and hay."

"Yes, speaking of that..." Vidar looked up at the sky while taking out a snuff box from his pocket, giving the dark cloud above them a nod. "... I fear rain's upon us, so I would get the hay inside soon if I were you two."

Frey grimaced as he tilted his head back to watch tree crowns being brutally tossed around by harsh gusts of wind. Quite the poor weather, then.

"Well, Revna's got her hands full with the children, so I best hurry back to save the laundry hanging outside." Vidar smiled apologetically, tucking what looked like a home-made blend under his lip before heading for the cart. "I'll leave this outside the stable so you won't have to carry the hay far, but you'll be on your own after that."

"It's much appreciated, Mr. Fjærhaug." Marius followed as Vidar steered towards the stable on the other side of the grounds, and Frey reluctantly did the same, trying to disregard how the wind was ruffling his hair beyond recognition. He had to help. He'd promised Marius that he wouldn't have to do everything.

"I don't need the cart until tomorrow, so use it as you please and I'll pick it up in the morning." Vidar gave Marius a pat on the shoulder and Frey a nod before gently spurring the old mare to head back home. "See you then."

"He's rather casual about your title, isn't he?" Marius' eyebrows were raised as he gathered up some hay in danger of being whisked away by wind, having waited until Vidar was out of earshot. "Any time I've heard people talk to you it's been 'What an honour, Lord Clausson' this, or 'Of course, my Lord' that. Even the Glowells use your title."

Frey shrugged, more occupied with hating how the hay so desperately wished to elope with the weather and how it stabbed his fingers despite him wearing gloves than with being upset about a farmer's way of referring to him.

"I've never talked to the Fjærhaugs before. I don't think anyone but my..." He paused, almost out of habit. "... My father paid much attention to them. He was hands-on about the way he worked and not too strict regarding titles, so it's likely they've assumed I'm no different."