Wednesday, June 12, 2024

June Pride Flash Fiction

 

#Pride2024 - written for the Small but Mighty Facebook Group

#forgottenestate #flashfiction


I love doing these smaller (longer) flash fiction pieces. I've done four now set in this world that started with the elevator prompt for GRL 2022. The first piece was included in the Midnight in the Renaissance Elevator anthology collected and published by fellow author, Miski Harris. My goal is to eventually collate them all into their own anthology world. This piece was inspired by a prompt on the Small but Mighty FB group.

Enjoy and Happy Pride.

Prompt by Cathy Brockman: A gardener and a lost pocket watch

World: Forgotten Estate (Paranormal world where anything goes).

Characters:

Arden - Head Groundskeeper of the Forgotten Estate

Basil - Assistant to Arden. Squirrel shifter

Master Devan (vampire), Lucian (vampire), and Kestral (wolf shifter) - fated mates who rule the Forgotten Estate

Johan - Chatelaine of the estate

Bella - white tiger, favored pet of Master Devan

Clem and Heath - garden gnomes living on the estate.

 

The sun was just beginning its ascent when Arden, Head Groundskeeper of the Forgotten Estate, stepped through the glass doors of his greenhouse. He paused and breathed in the moist air, fragrant with the blooms of colorful orchids and geraniums. The petrichor of leaves decaying in the compost bin mingled with the scent of cut grass and the riotous wild roses.

As he walked the length of space between long benches covered with plants of all kinds, he spoke aloud, “Good morning, my fine leafy friends. The sun is shining, the day a pleasing temperature, but when isn’t it?” Arden lifted a small watering can, a magical one that refilled itself. It was quite handy for a gardener such as he was.

“Oh, dear.” Quickly, he doused a few daffodils with water and stroked their long green leaves, watching as their bold yellow heads raised to the proper height. “There you go. All better.”

He continued on toward the rear of the greenhouse, hearing the chittering of chipmunks and his earnest assistant Basil, a squirrel shifter. Basil’s lengthy sigh and put-upon whine of “Yes, I remembered the nuts and berries” had Arden chuckling quietly. The chipmunks had moved in when an owl roosted nearby. By the time he’d figured out the cause, the owl had moved on, but the chipmunks liked their new nest, safely tucked behind the foot of a statue that had been in place since even before Arden came to work at the estate.

Pausing again at the end of the row, Arden watched Basil kneeling in front of the statue, which seemed to glow in the early morning rays of sunshine. A halo of light framed the wavy shoulder-length hair and swirled around the chiseled features of a handsome face.

Once again, Arden was struck by how handsome the man was… Is? Well, how handsome the statue of the man is. Lifelike stone that never seemed to chip or fade. If it truly was made to size, the man had been several inches taller than Arden, and broader across the chest and back. Thick thighs pushed at the fabric of his trousers, and a peek behind showed a tight ass that would surely fill Arden’s hands if only they were flesh and blood.

Curious to know more about who the person was, Arden had inquired first to Johan and then to Devan. Neither the Chatelaine nor the Master of the estate, respectively, had any answers for him. The statue preceded their time. Devan had taken control of the lands half a century ago in an odd turn of events that no one but he and Johan knew—for the head of the household had been the sole companion of Devan at the time the vampire had seized possession of the Forgotten Estate.

Some evenings, overcome with the desire to discover just who the statue was, Arden retreated to the estate’s libraries, searching the histories for the man’s name. His occupation on the property was obviously a gardener. Or maybe a botanist. Either worked for the statue wore similar clothing to Arden’s, along with a belt hung with the tools of their shared trade.

“Oh, hello, Arden. Mister and Missus say hello, too.” Basil pointed to the chittering chipmunks.

“Good morning, Basil. Good morning, friends.” Arden slid his gaze upward from the tiny woodland creatures, skating up the long legs and muscular torso, to the crooked smile gracing the statue’s face. “Good morning, sir. I trust you kept watch for the evening and all is well.”

Of course Arden wasn’t expecting an answer to the variation of morning salutation he often spoke aloud.

“I’m sure he did,” Basil replied, drawing Arden’s gaze back to the shifter kneeling at the statue’s feet.

An odd niggle of jealousy bloomed in Arden’s gut. He wanted to be the one there, the only one. But why? He shook off his confusion and turned in a slow circle to survey his domain. Through the glass, he spied the garden recently disturbed by the gnomes destruction of Kestral’s fairies’ home. The greedy creatures hated interlopers. Moving them to the front of the house, into an even lovelier garden of flowers, had been a stroke of genius.

He’d been meaning to transpose a smaller shrub for a larger one, outgrowing its space. If he removed the lilac and planted a… Rose of Sharon… yes, that would look lovely. He could even keep the same color scheme. Besides, lilacs made him sneeze. Arden would be sure to have Basil replant it in a sunny spot well away from the mansion and greenhouse. Maybe down by the stream…

Donning his work gloves and with a hand rake firmly in his grip, Arden knelt in front of the budding lilac. Truly, it wasn’t the best time to move the shrub, but he’d have his assistant give it plenty of TLC once it was re-homed. He loosened the dirt around the base of the bush with the rake while inspecting the area for other plants or bulbs that might also be affected by the move.

An odd clunking sound stopped him cold. What was that? Arden cocked his head, listening, but when he didn’t hear the noise repeated, he dug his rake into the moist soil and pulled. A round disc of metal tumbled from the rake to lie at his knees. What’s this?

Putting his rake down, he lifted the disc, discovering a tail of thin chain ending in a clasp. He brushed away the dirt clinging to its surface, finding a push button at the top. A pocket watch… but how did it end up in his garden? Had the gnomes stolen it and buried it like pirate treasure? It sounded like something Clem and Heath might do. The front had an intricate design etched on it, but Arden couldn’t make out more than the general idea of a tree.

He thought about engaging the mechanism to see the interior but decided against it. It would be better to clean the outside before he attempted to open it, thereby keeping any more dirt from getting on the watch’s face. For the moment, he stuck the watch into his pants’ pocket, picked up his hand rake and continued on preparing the area.

Transplanting the lilac took most of the day, and it wasn’t until early evening, when he was washing his hands, that he felt the weight of the watch and remembered. He procured a small brush and several towels and placed them on his workbench before fishing the watch from his pocket. Though the sun still shone brightly, it was getting low on the horizon, so Arden retrieved a small oil lamp and lit it.

He started by gently wiping off as much dirt as he could, then used the brush to flick away any specks in the cracks and crevices of the watch. Much of the darkened exterior had a green patina coating it, marking the metal as probably brass with a copper coating. His own brass and copper pocket watch required weekly cleaning to keep it in pristine condition.

Satisfied the watch was as free from dirt as he could make it, Arden pulled out a magnifying glass and examined the front design. It wasn’t anything unusual, a Celtic Tree of Life with its twisted roots and branches touching at the corners. In fact… He pulled out his watch and laughed, for the design was one and the same. Tucking the antique into the palm of his hand, he placed his thumb on the crown before slowly depressing the latch and disengaging the locking mechanism. The cover popped open, revealing a typical glass-fronted watch face. The hands were frozen at just a minute past five. Again, Arden laughed at the coincidence. Only a minute to go.

Quickly, yet carefully, he wound the watch, lifting and turning the crown several times to wind it. The moment their times matched, he pushed the crown down to start it, praying that nothing was wrong with the interior because, while he knew flowers, watch repair was beyond him.

For a few seconds nothing happened, but then the second hand clicked forward once, twice, then in a steady tick, tick, tick.

“Finally.”

The breathed word hadn’t come from Arden. He spun to stare at the place where the statue had been, only now the lifelike stone had become blood, bone, and pale flesh with a mop of dark hair and a frown where there had always been a smile.   

Green eyes turned to gaze at Arden and that tiny smirk reappeared. “Hello, Arden.” Angry chittering arose from the ground, and the gardener looked down at his feet at Mister and Missus. “Hello, friends. Sorry to disturb you, but as you can see, Arden has broken the spell.”

“Spell?” Arden whispered. “Oh no.”

Bella was the first through the door, followed by Johan, Devan, and Kestral. They stopped and stared at the man who only moments ago had been a stone-cold mystery. 

Lucian sauntered in last… “Hello, Jacek. Welcome back.”

“Jacek?!” Arden glared at Lucian. “How do you know his name? I asked, and no one knew.”

“Well, I’m assuming it’s Jacek. My grands told me all about how the estate gardener disappeared one day, leaving only a statue of himself in the corner of the greenhouse. You know I never come out here, and” —he peered at Arden— “you never asked me.”

“It is,” Jacek confirmed. “I’m unfortunately tied to an enchantment, a spell put on my pocket watch. As long as it’s ticking, I’m alive, but the moment it stops… statue. It fell out of my pocket one day, and now, thanks to Arden, I know where. When I realized I’d lost it that day so long ago, I discovered I wouldn’t have time to try to find it, so I placed myself in the corner where I’d be undisturbed and likely to be left alone until the day someone found my watch and restarted it.”

Again, that bright green gaze fell on Arden. “Thank you.” He took three long strides forward to stand in front of Arden. Slowly, he raised his hands and gently gripped Arden’s forearms. “Thank you for freeing me from the enchantment. I’ve watched you for so many years, and—I know this will sound strange—but I’ve fallen in love with you. Seeing you daily kept me from despair, for I knew, deep in my soul, that one day you’d find my watch and bring me back to life.”

“Love?” Arden whispered. Sure, he’d harbored a nonsensical lust for the stone gardener. He’d always brushed aside those feelings, knowing they could never be real. And yet, hadn’t he felt jealous just that morning, spying Basil kneeling at the statue’s feet? Did they have some mystical connection? Had Fate kept Jacek locked away until Arden came to work at the estate? It seemed… fantastical. Absurd. Insane.

Preposterous. And yet, it could be true. The gods were funny that way. Devan and Lucian had seemed perfect together, but then Kestral had been thrown in their path and now the three were inseparable.

“I…” Arden wasn’t sure what to say. He should turn Jacek down gently. He couldn’t automatically love someone. And yet, his mouth refused to form the words. He couldn’t say “I love you, too,” but he couldn’t refute the claim, either. Something deep inside him wouldn’t allow him to turn Jacek away.

He took one of Jacek’s hands in both of his, turning it so the gardener’s palm faced up. Drawing his fingertips along the exposed wrist and roughened palm, he knew this hand, like his own work-toughened skin.

“We were born of different times,” he finally managed to say, peeking up from beneath hooded lids at the sharp cheekbones, pinked full lips, and soft green eyes.

“Different, yet similar,” Jacek countered. “I tended to this garden for decades, then watched as you did the same.”

“I’ve changed it, though,” Arden murmured, ducking his head, nervous that Jacek might hate what he’d done.

Jacek tilted Arden’s chin up and peered into his eyes. “For the better. I sense your apprehension, and you needn’t worry. I didn’t expect for you to return my love, I was, after all, only a statue until…” He picked up his pocket watch, checked the time, gave the crown a couple more twists, and then snapped the lid shut before tucking it into his vest pocket. “... fifteen minutes ago.”

Arden nodded mutely, unsure what to say. And yet, the words practically tripped over themselves in his brain. Yes. Please. Love me. I’m yours. Forever.

Again, that tiny smirk graced the corners of Jacek’s lush mouth, almost as if he’d heard what had gone unsaid. When Jacek turned toward the others, Arden felt the loss of Jacek’s attention keenly.

“Master Devan, I realize that my appearance is a surprise, but I was wondering if you might have accommodations that I could use until—”

“No,” Arden all but shouted. Fear gripped him. He couldn’t let this man out of his sight. He’d brought him back; responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders, but also need. Want.

Desire.

He wanted to feel Jacek’s lips against his, feel those rough fingertips drag along his skin. Those strong hands would wrap easily around the girth of his cock, biceps tightening with each stroke.

Arden wanted to remove the gardener’s clothing, piece by piece, like the petals of a flower opening to showcase the stiff pistil hidden inside. He could already imagine the pale porcelain flesh in juxtaposition to his tanned hands and arms. He’d kneel as he’d wanted, gazing up at the masculine visage, grip those thick thighs, open his mouth—

“Sweet eaglet,” Jacek’s thumb teased Arden’s lower lip, pulling it free from between his teeth. He hadn’t even known he’d done so. “Needy. Greedy. I like it.”

Arden attempted to step back, only to be stopped by his workbench. He scanned the greenhouse, searching for help from his friends, and discovering they’d drifted away while he’d been lost in thought… Don’t kid yourself. Those were erotic daydreams. You want this… so why are you fighting it?

The rhetorical question bounced around his brain while his body responded with quickening breaths, a rising heart rate, a hard length trapped in the confines of fabric, and a clench low in his gut. His fingers itched to touch, his tongue to taste, his ears to hear each breathless moan.

Why was he denying himself his heart's desire? Foolish, that’s what he was. And yet, sometimes it was the foolish risks one took that earned the biggest rewards. Raw determination steeled his spine. He met Jacek’s sparkling green gaze… and leapt.

“I don’t want you to stay with Master Devan and his mates. The mansion isn’t the place for you.”

“Oh?” Jacek’s eyes widened, his lips turning down slightly at the corners. “Where should I stay then?”

“With me,” Arden answered with a firm nod. “Stay with me?”

Jacek’s mouth curled upward, and Arden was lost to that brilliant smile, bright gaze, and deep laugh. “Yes. Of course, yes.” He pushed into Arden’s space, hugging him tightly for a moment before leaning back, then dipping down to catch Arden’s lips with his own.

Wrapped in Jacek’s embrace, reveling in the taste and feel of the man he’d dreamed about for so long, all the tension in Arden’s frame faded. A sense of peace and calm suffused him, not unlike standing in the middle of the garden as the sun crested the horizon at dawn or dipped below in a blaze of majestic glory at sunset.

And as if he’d waved a magic wand, the evening’s sunlight streaked through the glass ceiling of their greenhouse, surrounding them in its fiery hue. Fitting, as they burned for each other, now and forevermore.