The Fourth Piper: Extras

Three Offers

Enjoy this non-canon, fluffy modern au of our strongest ship (to alleviate TFP pain for two to three hours—drug facts, nutrition information, and active ingredients not listed)

When Rowan had originally put in an offer for the house, he had expected a request for a higher offer—that, or a swift-but-gentle refusal. It wasn't as if there was much competition from other bidders. The price asked for by the owners was lofty even for someone who who could afford it or even for a house that had ten acres, and for a cheapskate like Rowan, the concept of overpricing itself was something he found great discomfort in. But it was the pictures of the property on the online real estate site that had intrigued him, the location of the property that had drawn him in, and the house itself that had led him into attending an open house and eventually placing an offer. A low offer, perhaps, but an offer all the same.

So, when the offer was accepted, much to his surprise—the contracts signed, the owners moved out—Rowan had taken it upon himself to plan his own surprise.

As he trudged up the stairs to his apartment, swinging the lanyard that held his keys, he texted Marehnn he would meet her outside the complex at seven to go for a drive together. Long drives out in the countryside were a common pastime for the couple, and that fact would serve as a perfect cover story. It wasn't an untruth—the house was in the countryside, after all. But Rowan had a feeling they'd do more walking than driving that night.

Unlocking the apartment door and closing it behind him, he sighed as a helpless smile crept onto his face. Something in his chest stirred as he walked to the sink and, though he couldn't quite place it, he thought he had a pretty good idea of what it could be when he removed the ring on his left ring finger. Washing the soil leftover from work in the barns off his hands, Rowan twisted the ring back on, his grin making the stirring in his chest warm.

6:55. Marehnn, ever punctual, would be here sooner than later. It was good, then, that he'd eaten dinner at the sheep farm beforehand. Lambing season was at its peak and there had been no telling how busy he would be, but the farmhand had sent him home early enough for him to spend some time with his fiancée.

A buzz echoed in the small apartment, and Rowan picked up his phone. 

"Yeah?"

"I'm just pulling in, Rowan."

"I'll be down in a second."

Rowan gathered his wallet and keys once again, opening the door and locking it behind him.

"You're not still filthy from the sheep, are you?" Laughter trickled through her words.

Climbing down the stairs to the lot and spotting her, he cracked a smile and walked out of the complex. "I washed up, I promise!" 

She hung up, meeting him and immediately grasping his still-wet hand. "Well, you washed your hands at least. You've still got straw in your hair, vanya, let me get it."

On tip-toes, Marehnn brushed off his red hair with an expression so warm Rowan thought he'd melt. Some fluttering thing inside of him imagined her in the house, a motherly figure with nobility and grace in the way she carried herself. He imagined her caring for a garden in the front yard, hands soiled as they'd plant vegetable seeds together. Caring for animals in the back acreage, perhaps. Maybe some children playing in the land between . . .

"There," she said softly. 

"Go for a drive?"

She nodded, and they walked to his worn truck. Opening the door for her in outrageously courteous fashion that raised Marehnn's eyebrows, Rowan got in on the other side and rested his hands on the wheel. 

"Am I forgetting something?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"What's the date?"

"June 4?"

"And it's a Friday." She laughed. "Well, that helps."

"Hm?" He started to pull out onto the road, beginning their normal route. They drove a while, silent and content. Rowan recalled breaking the hush to say something funny, but the only thing that mattered afterward was her.

Always. Her smile, curved and infectious and bright, always made something with soft wings flit inside of him. It flapped in its birdcage and chirped laughter. It sung inside him and threatened to burst. Even though he could only see her smile from the corner of his eye while driving, he could feel it. The joy, the peace. What was it about her that emptied him of nothing and filled him with everything? 

Mehella, he loved her. 

"What?" she asked, eyes alight and glimmering.

He shook his head with a grin, biting his lip. "Nothing."

Marehnn suddenly perked up, peering out the car window. "Did you take a wrong turn earlier?"

"I don't think so," he said as he turned the steering wheel and spotting the house. His heart leapt into his throat.

"We've never been through this part of town. Should I pull up a GPS? Wait, why are you—Rowan . . ." she trailed off as he pulled into the driveway, shifted into park, and turned off the truck. "Where are we?"

Rowan gestured, as though a short wave of his hand would explain the wave of inarticulate emotion and excitement within. "Home?" 

"Rowan," she breathed, eyes sparkling, brimming, fixed onto the house as her hand unthinkingly crept into his. "You—you—"

"I bought us a house." 

That smile. That smile. 

"Ten acres. A pole barn in the back, two bathrooms. Four bedrooms." 

"Four." She turned to meet his gaze, and Rowan's soul soared as he realized they were both thinking of the same thing. He imagined a tiny, pudgy hand holding his pinky finger and squeezed Marehnn's hand.

We can start a family here.

"We can look inside if you want. I signed the contract and the house is ready for move-in after the . . ." He almost choked on his words. "Our wedding."

They stared at the house for a time together before getting out of the truck. They walked along their sun-tipped fields, across the swaying spring pastures, slow and aflame with thoughts of what was to come. They passed through the pole barn which smelled of past horses and future livestock. They opened the door to the house and walked—up the stairs, into the bedrooms, down the stairs, and into the main area. They stopped and held each other.

Rowan wondered how many times they would do the same in that very place. How many embraces here would be happy and warm? How many would be anguished and tearful? How many would be holding children and how many would be holding the world on their shoulders and how many, how many—

Marehnn tilted her head up and as blue irises filled his vision, everything but that smile melted away. Her voice was low, as if speaking too loudly would break something. "You've still got straw in your hair."

She reached up and plucked the straw out of his hair, Rowan breathless. 

"And your jacket is covered. You forgot your watch." She sank into his arms and held him again, saying softly, contentedly, "You left your phone in the truck. Your tires are going bald. You've got to shave tomorrow." 

But all he heard were the words behind: I love you. I love you. I love you.

He replied with a kiss.