Something Extra - Hungry Heart - Ch. 2 (Patreon)

Author's note: Hi, guys, here I am with another chapter of the Something Extra story, Hungry Heart. Dave left me free rein over the characters, his only requirement to me being to make it 'epic'.  So, here is a journey unlike others, which I hope you will enjoy! Toru's adventures are just beginning, and his path toward happiness will be a convoluted one (and I'm afraid that might be an understatement).

Chapter One 

Chapter Two – You’re A Stranger

Duril could swear his heart must have stopped for a moment or two. When was the last time he had been propositioned like that? He couldn’t recall the last lover he had taken to bed, and, without a doubt, no one as attractive as Toru had ever been interested in him. Not that such things mattered, but Duril still felt intimidated, flustered, and embarrassed, all at the same time.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his wits about him. Could it be that Toru was joking? Duril had grown accustomed to other people’s cruelty all his lifefor as long as he could remember. He was nothing but a half, someone who belonged neither here nor there, so everyone hated him equally. It had taken him all his life to prove that he wasn’t a danger, that there was no strange bloodthirsty beast lurking within him, and that he only wanted to help. 

Toru’s golden eyes were close, and Duril risked one longer look. “Um, I think I’m fine. We’re fine. We’re good. You don’t have to pay anything. I have potions to make,” he added abruptly and moved past Toru and into the backyard, his heart beating wildly now that it finally decided to resume its function.

He stopped in front of the boiling pot, not knowing what to do. It had been awfully rude of him to abandon his guest and patient, but when that person was a handsome young man that could make Duril’s weary heart leap and sing again, there was no other choice. He hoped Toru would take the offer of not having to pay anything and leave. 

Money was so tight now after the long winter. But there were few things Duril needed to buy since he managed to make most of what he needed by himself. Cutting down wood was almost impossible, though, and he had had to pay others to do it for him. But with the weather changing, he would only need it for his potions, so much less.

Still, with all the problems he had, Duril would never turn down someone in need. He was happy he could help Toru, even if he didn’t have any money to pay him.

***

Toru stood there, dumbstruck. Had he just been rejected? Well, maybe Duril liked girls with soft bodies and beautiful smiles. By what he had seen of the townsmen so far, he doubted the healer had a lot to choose from. 

There was a small prickle of annoyance bothering him. Toru was not used to getting pushed away. Could it be that he smelled badly? He tried to sniff himself, but that didn’t tell him anything. 

Another matter had to be settled, too. It wasn’t his habit to freeload and take advantage of nice people. Biting back his disappointment, he picked up the shirt Duril had washed and dried. He had a feeling Duril would be nice and generous in bed, and he had already seen himself making love to the gentle giant. Now, he had a debt to pay and needed to figure out a way to do that without running the risk of insulting his generous host.

Especially since there were other pressing needs he had to attend to, now that he had lost blood. Without some food in his belly, he wasn’t sure he could shift. His human shape had its needs, too, and if he couldn’t shift, that meant that he couldn’t hunt. Once more, he needed to take advantage of the generous healer and make him understand that Toru would pay for everything once he was strong enough to hunt.

***

“Duril.”

Duril turned on his heels, surprised to find Toru behind him. Had he been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard Toru walking into the backyard? He needed to keep his wandering mind and heart in check. Just to survive another day he needed to keep his eyes open, his hearing sharp and his health perfect. There was no room for daydreaming about handsome men in the kind of life he had to live.

“I thought you would be gone.”

He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but Toru’s simple presence made him tense. Toru had dressed, but he had left his shirt opened in front, and Duril’s eyes were drawn to the perfect muscles underneath. He had touched Toru in his role as a healer and the other his patient, but now he felt awful and guilty. Healers weren’t supposed to lust after the people they cared for, and he had just committed, although in thought alone, a crime. 

“I’m hungry,” Toru said simply. “And don’t worry, I’ll pay for everything. Once I can hunt.”

Duril examined Toru with suspicious eyes now. “Hunt? You don’t carry any weapons.”

“I have my methods,” Toru said with a small shrug.

Duril sighed. “I told you. You don’t have to pay me.”

Especially not with your handsome body. Duril shook his head, horrified by where his mind was taking him.

“It’s okay that you don’t like me,” Toru said.

Duril stared at him for a moment, puzzled. Wait, was Toru thinking that Duril had run away because of that? He didn’t know the young man, but he seemed genuine in his words and actions. Duril just didn’t want to get hurt, and now felt torn about causing Toru any distress.

“It’s not that, um, I don’t like you.” Duril sensed his cheeks catching fire. He turned brusquely toward his potion pot. “Inside, you will find some bread and cheese. The pantry is on the left.”

“Thank you.” 

Duril prayed that Toru would walk away now, but he didn’t hear any footsteps departing. 

“What’s there to do around here? Do people want hunters? Warriors?”

Toru was surely built like one, but he had no armor, no weapons. Duril worried about him. “There is a guild where you can ask if help is needed. It’s located in the center of the town, so you can’t miss it. But Toru, how are going to hunt? Or fight? You only have the clothes on your back.” Great, now he sounded like someone who stuck his nose in other people’s business. “Do you even have a place to sleep?”

Toru walked over to him, much to Duril’s surprise. A warm hand rested on his shoulder. “Can I sleep here, with you?”

Oh. And that had been a small trap he had set for himself quite beautifully. Clearly, his mouth had a knack for making him sound like a fool. Was it that badly that he wanted the beautiful young man around him?

Duril moved his shoulder a bit, but Toru didn’t seem to take the hint. He didn’t look at the man behind him for fear that his red face would give him away. “Not with me. I mean, there’s the bed on which I treat patients --”

“I can sleep on the floor. And don’t worry about that other thing. I get it that you like girls.”

Duril’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Good thing Toru couldn’t see him from the front or he would be able to read what and who Duril really liked. And then, he didn’t think he had it in him to run away again. What was he thinking? He shook his head again. He needed to get it out of his mind that someone as beautiful as that could be interested in him. 

A pang shot through his chest when he realized what Toru had tried to do; probably he was used to selling his body since he was so poor. Duril cursed at himself; all his childhood, he had seen his mother making ends meet through that alone. He had hated those men taking advantage of her condition, and now he had been thinking of behaving like one of them? He had every right to feel disgusted with himself. From now on, he needed to keep his distance from Toru. At least, as much as that was possible with him living under the same roof –

“Will you be here long?”

“I’m searching for someone.”

“Who is it? Maybe I can help.”

“I doubt it,” Toru replied. “I don’t know their names.”

Duril didn’t miss the way Toru had said that, his voice dipped in longing. 

“I’ll figure it all out by myself,” Toru added. “Thank you, Duril.” He suddenly pressed his head against Duril’s upper back. “I’m a stranger, and yet you do all of this for me.”

Duril was of a mind to offer some words of comfort to that, but the warmth spreading from where Toru touched him left him speechless. Just as fast, Toru moved away. “I’ll let you work now. I’ll just eat something and head over to that guild.”

He was no longer within earshot to hear Duril murmuring, “You’re a stranger, and I’m completely crazy.”

***

Toru nibbled on the bread and cheese he found in the pantry, but left enough for the other, since there seemed to be little other food around. He scrunched his nose at the cabbage stored neatly in a basket. The day he would eat vegetables willingly would be a cold one in hell. 

The healer seemed to be poor as dirt, but, of course, not as poor as Toru who had never cared about owning anything. Even this strange desire, to follow that scent, was something new and unlike him. Toru didn’t grow attached to people and places. He was free and took from life all that he could. 

He would make sure that Duril had some meat for tonight’s dinner, Toru decided. Shaking off the irksome feeling of having been rejected earlier, he stood up, ready to go. If Duril hadn’t been so nice, he would have just let it rest. But Toru liked affection, soft caresses, and a warm body wrapped around him; Duril looked like he had plenty of that, but he was so unwilling to share, the miser. What silly girls enjoyed his attention?

Toru threw the last bit of cheese he had allowed himself into his mouth and was out the door. There was a latch on it, but it probably remained unused during the day since it didn’t look like thieves would find anything worth stealing here.

***

The building housing the guild also served as an inn by the looks of it. The place was packed with people, smoke, and the smell of food when Toru walked in. Curious eyes turned toward him, but no one said a thing to him as he looked the place over. 

“The guild?” he asked gruffly, staring down a patron who appeared impressed by his size. Since people around here weren’t talkative, he would spare only a few words, too.

He was pointed toward the back of the large room, at a door that seemed to separate the space. Toru patted the man who had offered him the answer on the shoulder, amused at how quickly he flinched. As a general rule, he wasn’t vicious, but he knew well that, as a stranger, he needed to inspire respect and fast. 

As he approached, he noticed two heavily armed guards standing by the door to the guild. Two glaives crossed in front of him.

“Who are you?” one of the guards asked, his small mean eyes inspecting him from behind a metal helm.

“Someone looking for honest work,” Toru replied.

The guard looked him up and down. “There’s none for the likes of you. Beat it.”

Toru towered over the guard. “Are you the leader? You don’t look like one, little man.”

The guard clearly felt protected by the armor he wore, his glaive, and his companion. He moved his weapon to rest its sharp tip against Toru’s chin. “Won’t look so little when I skewer you with this, scoundrel.”

Toru smiled; his ears twitched. If that’s what had to be done to get noticed, so be it. He grabbed the guard’s glaive so fast that the air swished as the blade cut through it. In the blink of an eye, he broke the wooden pole on his knee and threw the pieces at the guard’s feet. “What was that that you wanted to skewer me with, knave?”

The guard’s companion didn’t hesitate for a moment to attack him, but Toru was prepared. He disarmed him with the same ease and pushed the wooden pole flat against the man’s chest, making him smack against the wall and bounce back like a child’s toy ball. Toru caught his assailant and pushed him back again, having fun, toying with him like that.

The first guard came to his senses and rushed to his partner’s aid. Toru only had to step nimbly out of the way, and then chaos erupted. It looked like the place had only needed a spark. The guard smashed into a table, making utensils and food plates crash to the floor. The men at the table jumped on him, probably unhappy with seeing their meal lost like that. 

From there, Toru couldn’t say what reasons the others had to join the fracas. He grabbed the guard he had been playing with, raised him above his head and threw him into the maelstrom of fighting bodies while laughing. Good, now that he had gotten rid of those dumb guards, he could walk inside and talk to the guild leader.

“What is going on here?” A sonorous voice cut through the fight sounds, but everyone was too hotheaded to stop.

Toru turned to see who was talking. In the door to the guild stood an imposing man who seemed past his first youth and had the scars to prove that he hadn’t lived in vain. He was taller and bigger than Toru, which was enough to command both attention and admiration. His body was strapped in leather and metal, but it wasn’t the armor of a rich merchant trying to impress. Toru could read a history of fighting and winning in the worn leather and in the scratches left in the metal.

The man wore his dark hair shoulder length and there was a single streak of silver grey parting it equally. Furrowed brows guarded intelligent eyes, now filled with surprise and anger as they scanned the room. Toru stared at him shamelessly, and finally, his eyes were met by the other.

His heart stopped. He knew those eyes. “Silverback,” he whispered.

The dark eyes examined him curiously. There was a glint of recognition, but it faded quickly, leaving Toru to wonder whether he had just imagined it. The man moved and grabbed one of the brawlers. Toru watched in disbelief as he threw the man effortlessly into a corner, and then proceeded to do the same with others. Soon, there was a pile of confused patrons scrambling to get to their feet.

Varg – it had to be him – carved a way through the rambunctious bunch until he reached a table in the middle of the room onto which he jumped. It felt as if some of the light was sucked out of the room. “People,” he shouted.

With some of the brawlers immobilized, and Varg standing tall on the table, the fighting sounds were finally dying down.

“What have you done to this fine establishment?” Varg demanded. “You. Talk,” he pointed at one patron.

The man tried to make himself scarce, but the others pushed him back. Varg scooped him up by the scruff of his neck and placed him on the table next to him. “Speak,” he commanded.

Unfortunately, the patron was so scared that he couldn’t mumble one coherent word. Disgusted, Varg released him and he scurried away.

“Answers. Now.”

Was Toru imagining things, or was Varg’s voice turning into a roar? 

The guards Toru had humiliated seemed to emerge at the same time. “It was because of the stranger. He broke our weapons and --”

“Stop whining! What stranger?”

Toru had the feeling that being of the impressive stature of which he had been so proud all his life would now work against him. Between him and the door was a mass of people, and shifting and running through them wasn’t an option.

The dark eyes turned to look at him, as the guards pointed him out.

“Sir Varg, kill him,” one of the guards said excitedly.

Varg knocked him over the head. “Don’t ‘sir’ me.”

The guard squealed in distress.

Varg caught him by the back of his neck and squeezed. “And don’t tell me what to do.”

Oh, he was in deep, deep trouble. Toru needed to make sure Varg didn’t recognize him, although there was slim chance of that. Mutts had a good sense of smell. If Varg couldn’t tell who he was by his looks in human shape, he would by a simple sniff.

That meant that there was only one thing left to do. He would charm his way out of this one.

“Everyone, out! And leave thrice the price of the meals you ruined on the table by the door on your way out.”

There were grumbles of discontent, but Toru perked his ears at the sound of coins thrown on wood. Varg was someone in that town, and Toru had gotten on his bad side. 

That was just great.

The guards lingered around.

“You two, out!” Varg gestured for them to move.

As the room emptied slowly, an opportunity arose. Maybe he could make a run for it. Toru tensed, feeling each muscle in his body getting ready.

“Don’t even think of running,” Varg warned, turning his attention fully on him.

Oh, all right. Maybe later. Toru leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He angled his head and offered Varg the most charming smile he could muster. Damn mutt. 

There was a small flicker of surprise on Varg’s harsh face, and the wolfshifter licked his lips. Toru’s smile broadened. It looked like this one wasn’t partial to pretty girls. As little as that was, it was something Toru could work with until he found a way to make a run for it.

“Why did you pick on the guards?” Varg asked.

For a moment, he appeared to make a move to come closer, but he reconsidered. Toru shifted and pushed hips forward just a bit. The wolfshifter wasn’t half bad, but Toru wouldn’t go further than a little innocent provocation. Mutts and tigers didn’t mix.

Varg moved his head away. 

“They picked on me,” Toru said. “I just told them I was looking for honest work. They wouldn’t let me pass.”

“So you trashed the place?”

Toru frowned. That wasn’t fair. “I didn’t. The others did.”

Varg grinned, and Toru wasn’t sure he liked it. Now, the wolfshifter didn’t look as easy to sway as before.

“Oh, Varg, thank you so much!” A young man emerged from one side. He was dressed in an apron, and he looked like a feeble human. Maybe he was the innkeeper, but Toru doubted it. He was too young, and a coward. He must have stayed hidden all this time. 

“Not much to thank me for, I’m afraid, Rory,” Varg replied. “They were in the midst of destruction before I succeeded in stopping them.”

Rory waved. “Nothing that cannot be replaced or repaired. I’ll just grab my broom.”

Varg stopped him by catching his elbow. There was something tender in how he did that, and Toru inspected the scene with curious eyes. Was the mutt tamed, then? By that human? The difference in size between them was laughable. The human was pretty with straw like hair, and his small body. But Toru doubted someone of Varg’s stature could take Rory without wrecking him.

“You can use the money they courteously left, to cover some of the expenses.”

Rory smiled at Varg. He patted his hand. “I heard you. Where would we all be without you?”

“Also,” Varg added, ignoring Rory’s blatant admiration and gratitude, “you’ll have help cleaning up the place.” He pointed with his chin at Toru.

Toru tensed his jaw. Was the mutt expecting him to do that? Clean? What was he? Some kitchen help? “I am a hunter,” he said, pointing at himself. “A warrior. I don’t broom.”

Varg threw him a derisive look. 

Rory appeared embarrassed. “It’s all right. It wasn’t really his fault. He asked for work.”

“And work he found,” Varg said with satisfaction.

“I’m not going to clean,” Toru insisted. 

“Then you should pay for the damages.” Varg gestured around.

“Those who did it paid you already,” Toru insisted.

“They wouldn’t have trashed the place if you hadn’t instigated them.”

Toru couldn’t keep in a smile. That brawl had been fun.

“Look at you, grinning,” Varg said. He frowned, and Toru felt his good mood fading. “Let me make it clear for you. If you don’t clean, you pay. If you don’t pay, you clean. And if you don’t do either, I’m coming for you. And don’t think I’m like the guards you played with earlier. You won’t get away from me. Here, in Whitekeep, we don’t tolerate laziness and brawlers.”

Toru looked around the room with dejected eyes. His wound was almost completely healed now, thanks to his body’s stamina and Duril’s skill, but he knew Varg was a vicious beast. And he still wanted to explore these parts. The scent was strong, and making the townsmen exile him wasn’t an option. He needed to be able to walk among them.

A good sign was that Varg didn’t appear in a hurry to give him away. So, he needed to make the best of the situation. He shifted his weight, scratched his head, and then nodded. “I’ll clean.” The worst part of that deal was that he would have to forget about the promise he made himself to bring home meat to Duril that night. It would be a wasted day, but sometimes he had to make do with what came at him. Toru was no stranger to the whims of fate. That was nothing. Plus, no one but Varg and the human Rory would be witnesses to his humiliation. And if they dared to laugh –

“Then get to work,” Varg said curtly. “Thanks to you, I’ll have to suspend the guild’s activities for the day.”

“If those guards keep everyone out, I doubt there’s anything for you to do all day long,” Toru said.

Varg threw him a sharp glance. “Just grab that broom. I want to see you get started. Rory, if he gets lazy or tries to run away, let me know. I know this one’s scent; he won’t get away from me that easy.”

Rory nodded, but he was hesitant as he offered Toru the broom. 

“And don’t you go easy on him, either. I know you would do that, just because of the kindness of your heart.”

Rory nodded again, this time even less convinced. So the human could be swayed; Toru counted on it. He wasn’t one for menial labor. And if Varg didn’t stick around to lord over him while cleaning, that meant that he could find a way to convince Rory to let him be. Maybe he could still find a way to hunt something for tonight’s dinner.

With that plan in mind, he took the broom from Rory. Varg walked over to him and patted him on the head. It wasn’t fair that he was that tall. “That’s a good boy.”

Toru bristled. “Who are you calling a good boy?” His teeth tingled. It would be so easy to bite Varg’s hand and teach him a little respect.

Varg leaned in and whispered into his ear, making his skin all goosebumps, “You, kitty.”

Toru froze. Any doubt left his mind. It was clear that Varg knew who he was. With newly found conviction, he squeezed the broom handle in his hands and walked away from Varg. “You’ll pay for this, mutt,” he murmured under his breath.

“Did you say something?” Varg’s voice was harsh, but amused.

“Just that I love to clean,” Toru said tersely.

“I’ll come tonight and inspect the place. If I hear from Rory that you misbehaved --”

“Yeah, yeah,” Toru stopped him. “You’re going to have my skin or whatever.”

Varg offered him a strange smile on his way out. Rory hurried to bid him goodbye, and Varg leaned in and whispered something to him. The other nodded, his face lit up with a smile. Both looked at Toru for a moment, giving him meaningful looks. Now, what was that all about?

***

Varg couldn’t keep from grinning as he walked out of the Tinker Inn. It was the best place in town to dine and board, and it didn’t deserve to be ruined by good for nothings. He was certain he had left it in good hands; Rory was the most hardworking innkeeper he had met, despite his young age. His parents had passed away before their time, leaving the inn to him, and all the responsibilities that came with it. Many had expected Rory to cave under that burden, but there he was, the second year at the helm, and he was still going strong. For a boy barely sixteen, he had the acumen, the determination, and the wits to make his inheritance flourish.

And now, he had help, so Varg didn’t worry. He hadn’t expected to see the tigershifter so soon. And he hadn’t expected him to be so handsome. The sun shone in his eyes, his hair was bright and golden. Varg could feel some of the stiffness in his bones melting at the sight. Too bad he hadn’t asked for a name. If he touched that beautiful skin, would it be warmer than others’?

Varg shook his head. What was he thinking? The tigershifter was a brawler and a troublemaker. If he wanted to live in Whitekeep, he needed to play by the rules. 

Good thing, he had taken the place of the guild’s leader for the day. As much as humans didn’t trust shapeshifters, they respected strength and authority, like anywhere else. Rory would put the money to good use.

Through the window, Varg stole one last look at the tigershifter. He surely wasn’t pleased that he had to clean, and moved the broom aimlessly across the floor. Rory hurried by his side and explained something. The tigershifter smiled, and that feeling of warmth came back strongly to Varg.

He would have to learn his name.

***

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so clumsy with a broom,” Rory expressed his astonishment. “It’s all right if you don’t wish to help. I promise I won’t tell Varg anything.”

Toru pursed his lips. That was what he wanted, but right now, taking in the disaster left behind by the brawlers, he felt guilty. Rory looked younger than he thought from up close. Dealing with all that on his own would be cruel. 

He took a look around. “I can straighten all the tables. And if you have a hammer and nails, I can repair some chairs.” Not that he was handy with human tools, but he knew of them, and had seen enough to know how they worked.

Rory beamed at him. “I’ll take this,” he said and grabbed the broom from his hand.

He disappeared into a side room for a while and returned with a hammer and a fistful of nails. Toru was already hard at work, straightening the tables and collecting the chairs that could be saved.

“Are these all right?” Rory asked.

Toru nodded. “They’ll do.” He would see about that.

***

At the end of the day, Toru was dead tired, moreso than when he went hunting or fighting. Just doing all the little things involved with putting the entire room back together had proved more tedious than he had imagined. Rory, on the other hand, was chirpy and looked like he didn’t have to rest. 

“Here,” Rory said as he placed a large plate of food in front of him. “Thank you for all your hard work today.”

Toru murmured thanks as he began to wolf down his food. But, soon, he slowed down. Duril probably had little to eat all day, if the sorry state of his pantry was any indication. And now he was feasting, although he was in debt.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like the food?” Rory asked with worried eyes.

It was stew with plenty of meat in it, although Toru didn’t care about the potatoes much. “No, that’s not it. It’s just that I have a friend who must be hungry, too, right now.”

“I thought you were new in town,” Rory said.

The young human was direct, and Toru liked him. “It’s the healer named Duril. He, um, helped me with something,” he said quickly, aware that he shouldn’t say more about himself.

“Ah, Duril.” Rory’s eyes became misty, for a moment. “He doesn’t take charity, you know.”

“It wouldn’t be that. It would be payment,” Toru said solemnly. “Could you put half of this into a pot or something? I promise that I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

Rory patted his shoulder. “Eat as much as you want. If you want seconds, just tell me. And I’ll fix something for Duril, too.”

Toru nodded. He wasn’t one to question the kindness of strangers. He felt relieved, too. Getting back in shape required more energy than usual, probably due to the harsh weather.

He thanked Rory when he came back later with a heavy sack, probably filled with food. But he was surprised when Rory took his hand and placed several shiny coins in his palm.

“You mustn’t pay me. I caused the trouble you went through today.”

Rory shook his head. “You have no shoes. And your clothes are too thin. Plus, Varg told me to pay you fair and square.”

Varg had said that? Toru was puzzled. He thought the wolfshifter hated him. He weighed the coins in his hand. “I don’t know about how much this is worth around here, but it’s too much.”

Rory closed his hand over Toru’s, closing his fist. “There’s only one thing I want in return. Your name.”

Toru smiled. “It’s Toru.”

“Welcome to Whitekeep, Toru. I hope we’ll see more of you.”

Toru didn’t plan on staying more than needed.

TBC

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