Chapter Text
With the arrival of harvest season, so had arrived rainy days and the earthy smell of fallen wet leaves. The apple orchard was alight with the beautiful red fruits. It was your favorite harvest season by far; without the sun beating down on you, an evening among the apple trees with just a rain jacket, a ladder, and a bucket seemed delightful; specially since your rainy day regimen always ended the day with a hot bath.
You were alone in the orchard this evening. Your sisters had taken some indoor work today to avoid the drizzles, with your father and mother in town. The farmhouse got a bit loud between the five of you, so being alone save for the pitter patter of rain was welcome.
With your bucket of apples full and your yellow rain jacket finally failing to stave off the wet chill, that hot bath was incredibly tempting. You hopped off the ladder, ready to pack up your bounty for the day. That’s when you saw them.
They were massive, both wide and tall. Completely cloaked and behind the mist, you could discern basically none of their details. Strangers taking leisurely strolls through the family orchard was nothing odd, but the rain had gotten a little much even for you. Something about their gait told you this figure was not having a good time, and the hood of their cloak sat strangely on their head.
With as friendly of a face as you could muster, you crossed over a couple of tree rows to meet them.
“Can I help you?” You said, having decided to treat this as a normal visitor interaction.
“This is your orchard, yes?” His voice was gravelly and deep. He uttered the words quickly, though, as if he detested speaking.
“It’s my family’s, but yeah, basically.”
“I’m willing to work in exchange for lodging.”
You weren’t expecting that, though to be honest your expectations hadn’t had time to coalesce. You looked at the remaining apples and thought about your rain-averse sisters; whoever this man was, he could probably pick up the slack from your shirking sisters. You considered his height, too; he probably wouldn’t even need a ladder!
“We could use some extra hands with the apple harvest...” you trailed off, sizing him up again. “Though I don’t think we have a bed that could fit you. We have a barn with plenty of room, but I’d hate to--”
“The barn is fine.” He said tersely.
“Alright, then,” you said, handing him a spare apple bucket, “Would you like to show you to the barn now or later, mister...?”
He froze or flinched when you asked his name, as if startled. This was the first bit of body language you could actually read through his cloak.
“...Goran.” He said after a rainy pause. “You can show me the barn after I finish my work.”
“Sure.” You said, pointing north, “The farmhouse is that way, just at the end of the orchard. You can’t miss it. I’ll be in there, so knock when you’re done.” He simply nodded and gestured acknowledgement with the apple bucket. “Um, just fill the bucket. That’s all I need you to do.” You turned away, feeling oddly trusting of the huge man. After all, apple theft was unlikely, and if he wanted to pull a tree out of the ground or something, what could you realistically do to stop him?
Perhaps you just wanted to get to your hot bath. Actually, that’s definitely what it was. You enjoyed every minute of it, figuring that even if the stranger was on par with the best farmhands, you’d still have time to dry your hair. When you emerged and did so, you decided to check on your helper. Instead, you were met by two full buckets of apples at the farmhouse’s doorstep, and no sign of Goran.
“Lilia!” You called your younger sister from wherever she was, “Where did these apple buckets come from?”
“Oh, that big volunteer guy left them. He must have been working all day.”
“Where is he?”
“What do you mean? I thanked him for his work and sent him on his way.”
“Shit, Lilia!” You cursed, throwing on your rain jacket once more and rushing out the door.
“What’d I do?” Was all you heard from your little sister before you were sprinting through the orchard.
“Goran! Goran!” You called, searching for his hulking, cloaked figure in the rain. Luckily, he hadn’t walked very far and you were able to catch a glimpse of him turning to face your voice. Again, you noticed the strange way his hood rested on his head. It almost looked like he had... horns? Nevertheless, you caught up to him quickly.
“I’m sorry, my little sister shouldn’t have sent you away. She didn’t know about our deal... why didn’t you tell her?”
Goran simply shrugged, the cloak outlining his huge shoulders.
“Come on, let me take you to the barn.” You extended a hand, and he gently took it in his. His hands were much larger than yours, which didn’t surprise you; what did, however, was how smooth they were. They were almost completely un-calloused, not something you would expect from someone who can pull two whole buckets of apples twice as fast as you.
As you reached the barn, you started to feel bad. Goran had done double the work agreed upon, almost been turned away by Lilia, and now all you could offer him was the barn. Sure, you had slept in the hayloft as a kid, but Goran... well, comparing him to your eight year old self was comedy. You swung open the barn doors and let him into its full, musty splendor.
“Sorry this is all I could arrange for you.”
“Don’t apologize. This is more than sufficient for me.” Goran rumbles. He starts arranging bales of hay into a bed for himself as you look on.
“At least let me take your cloak. It must be soaked through by now.” You reached for it, but-
“No!” He raised his voice for the first time, and the whole barn seemed to shake. He tensed up, then exhaled and relaxed. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to shout.”
“Why...” you muttered. Then you realized. Those were horns you saw under his hood. Goran wasn’t simply a fiendishly strong recluse.
He’s a Minotaur.
Your realization was easily readable, and he sighed before throwing back his hood. You saw the horns you somehow ignored earlier, and a golden ring dangling from his septum. His eyes allowed you no entrance into his thoughts, dark and featureless. A thin layer of brown fur caught the light in such a way that he appeared to glow.
“I’ll leave.” He says.
“No, there’s no need.” You said, standing resolute. “You wanted shelter in exchange for your work, so you’ll get it. In fact,” you grab his cloak, “I’ll launder your cloak, too. You picked two buckets of apples when we agreed on one.”
“I...” Goran starts. He seems taken aback. “You’re not terrified.”
“Me? Terrified? Of course not!” You proclaimed. You were, in fact, at least a little bit apprehensive. You had never seen a Minotaur before; you surmised something very serious must have happened for Goran to end up in this part of the world, but that was no matter. What mattered is that he completed work, and now he would receive payment. As for your family’s opinion, well... they were another matter entirely.
“I’m thankful.” Goran said, continuing to arrange the hay bales. “Most humans aren’t so understanding.”
“It’s nothing but honest pay, Goran.” You stated firmly. “Give me your cloak. I’ll launder it.” He nodded, undoing its clasp, and handed it to you in a wet heap. He was shirtless underneath with naught but a pair of ragged breeches held up by a length of rope. You had seen many a farmhand with an impressive physique over the years, but even ignoring the fur and hooves, Goran was like nothing you had ever seen. He caught you staring. He said nothing.
You averted your eyes as respectfully as you could. “Let me get some hay bales for you. I’ve slept on them before, it’s not too bad.”
“It’s fine. You’ve done enough already.” His dark eyes met yours. “Truly.”
You started folding up his cloak. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.” You said. With his cloak folded up and set aside, you started assembling some loose hay bales into a bed for him. He started doing the same, and in very little time at all there was a makeshift hay mattress suitable to his size.
He snorted. “It’s usually the reverse.” He laid himself delicately onto the hay bales as if expecting them to collapse. “Humans tend not to want me around.”
“Oh?” You asked. Sure, this area wasn’t diverse when it came to non humans, but you never thought they’d be intolerant.
“They’re not running me out of town with torches and pitchforks, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he adjusts his position on the hay mattress, his abdominal muscles rippling under his fur, “but I’m used to being politely, or... impolitely asked to leave after a day or two.”
You thought for a moment. Between you and your family, you had never had something like this come up. If you told them there was a minotaur staying the night in the barn, you didn’t know how they would react... but this was an opportunity to find out.
“Goran, you picked two bucketfuls of apples in the time it would take me to fill half of one.”
He nods. “I did.”
Your gut lurched a little, and you felt an upswell. You would be sitting down at the dinner table with your family in a little under an hour. Your confidence was strongest now, and would only wane later. You decided to go with your impulses.
“I want to hire you. You can continue staying here and I’ll pay you just like I would any other farmhand.”
For the first time, you could read a change in his expression. You guessed what you saw was surprise. “Really?” He asked.
“Really.” You affirmed. “I’d be a fool not to. You’re the best worker I’ve seen in the orchards yet.”
He sat up in his hay mattress, swinging his legs over the side to face you. His eyes met yours once again. “I accept.” He said, extending a hand. You took it, his fingers engulfing your hand completely, and shook on the deal. You immediately noticed how delicate his touch was. He had the strength and size to do all manner of terrible things, but the handshake felt no different than any other; maybe it was even lighter than the touch of a human.
Later that night, you sat at the dinner table and decided to take the straightforward approach. You plopped yourself into your seat and basically said, “I hired a new farmhand. He’s staying in the barn right now. Also, he’s a minotaur.”
You received a range of responses. Your little sister Lilia, for one, was excited. She had never seen a non-human before and you had to talk her down from rushing to the barn that very moment. Your older sister Reina and your mother shared the same vague, half-acceptance and half-apprehension, which you expected. Your father had sunken into himself as he always did before he delivered a “not angry, just disappointed” speech, but lightened up immediately when you showed him Goran’s skill.
“Two buckets in fifteen minutes!” You had said, bringing him the evidence of Goran’s handiwork. Your father’s gentle admonishment never came. Instead, he simply went to the kitchen and started filling a tray with a full dinner.
“He’s probably starving. Take this out to him, will you?” Your father requested. You decided to go a step further and took your own tray as well.
“Can I come too?” Lilia asked, beaming. “I wanna see him!” The look your mother gave you said “please don’t oblige her,” but you nodded at your younger sister anyway.
With three meals in tow, Goran’s portion befitting his size, you and Lilia reached the barn and knocked. His “Come in,” seemed to rumble straight through the wooden door.
Once inside, Lilia practically pounced on him after shoving her tray into your clumsy grasp.
“He’s fluffy!” Lilia shouted as she futilely tried to wrap her arms around him.
“Lilia, treat our new farmhand with some respect, please.”
“It’s okay. I think I’ll survive.” Goran said, the tiniest of chuckles escaping his mouth. Lilia finally detached from him and the three of you started tucking into dinner. Lilia had so many questions to ask that she mostly talked with her mouth full. She also called him “Mr. Minotaur,” which made your cheeks burn for a multitude of reasons.
“Were you born with those horns or do they grow in? Where’s your family? How strong are you? Could you lift that wagon?”
Goran answered in stride, saying respectively: They grow in, around Crete, pretty strong, and probably. After a few more questions Lilia had exhausted her curiosity. Dinner was finished soon after and Lilia's bedtime approached. You collected the trays and put on your best big sister voice.
"Lilia, I think it's time you go to bed." You said.
"But—"
"Lilia..." You paired her name with an appropriately targeted stare, the coup de grâce of inter-sibling disagreements.
"Fine." Lilia said, her gaze lowering. She gave Goran a hug as if she were to never see him again. "Bye, Mr. Minotaur."
"See you tomorrow, little one." Goran rumbled. Lilia released him from her not-quite encompassing embrace, then made a reluctant walk towards the barn door.
"Fluffy..." she muttered on her way out. You shook your head and started gathering up the trays, utensils, and other tableware you had brought to the barn. Goran sat on his haybale bed watching you.
"Apologies for Lilia, Goran. She has a mouth much faster than her mind."
"It's alright. I'm happy that she's fascinated by me. It's much better than fearing me." Goran ran a finger across one of his horns. "She didn't even ask if I ate people." He grinned.
"Do you get that question a lot?"
"Usually it's implied, but yes." He sighed, dropping his shoulders a bit.
"Well, don't worry about my family. They might not be as enthusiastic as Lilia, but they'll take to you in no time. When I told them I hired you they reacted well." You reassure him.
"Thank you, truly."
"Think nothing of it. " You said. You stood there for a moment, hands and arms full of tableware, not sure how to bid him goodnight. Looking at him in the barn's dim lighting you felt an upswell in your breast. You followed it, and with utensils clinking, leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. Pulling back and swallowing the surprise at your own boldness, you uttered a nonchalant "Good night, Goran."
"Good night." He replied. His signature rumbling voice wavered ever so slightly. You smiled, then turned away to exit the barn. You walked through the night towards the farmhouse, nothing but the sounds of silverware, crickets, and the glow of the stars above. You couldn't wait to pick apples with Goran tomorrow.