Chapter 11 Pansy
Pansy
As much as the people of Halvenshire enjoy an easy, peaceful way of life, laziness is not something any halfling can ever be associated with. One need only look to their fields for proof: vast, immaculate and rigorously maintained.
ON THE SUBJECT OF HALFLINGS
“A little overgrown?” Pansy repeated, staring at the tangle of vines that spilled across the plot of earth Ren had assured her was their aunt’s pumpkin patch. “Ren, if there’s a pumpkin under all this, I certainly can’t see it. And no, it’s not because of the dark.”
“In my defense,” Ren said, stiffening against the assault on their pride, “Running Beans grow absurdly fast.”
“No kidding. When did you even plant these?” she asked, squatting down so that she could slide a hand beneath a trio of long, flat shells, each about as broad as her thumb. From this vantage point, they reminded her of sugarsnap peas, though who knew how the inside might surprise her.
“Near the start of the last ten-day,” Ren answered.
Pansy whirled around, eyes bulging. “That fast? Wow. You weren’t kidding about it being absurd.”
“It’s why we plant so much of it.” No sooner had the words left Ren’s mouth than they were snapping it shut, a wide-eyed look of horror slicing across their face in a jagged arc.
It was as if they’d revealed something they shouldn’t have – though what, Pansy couldn’t say.
To her ears, their statement sounded utterly innocuous, an interesting bit of trivia that would serve her well if goblin agriculture ever came up during one of the quizzes held every Fifthsday at the village pub.
Still, as laughable as that particular prospect seemed, it was probably best to reassure Ren that their Secret Goblin Gardening Techniques would remain entirely between them.
“Don’t worry,” Pansy said, patting Ren gently on the boot, the only thing she could currently reach, crouched down as she was.
“I think the halflings back in Haverow are perfectly content with their own varieties of green bean.”
Ren gave her an odd look, confusion digging a deep wedge between their thick brows. “What? That’s not what I—Never mind.” They shook their head. “Anyway, as you can see, we’ll need to clean this up first if we want to get at the pumpkins underneath. Sorry.”
“Oh, there’s no need to apologize,” Pansy assured them with a smile. “How were you supposed to know that I was going come up with such a crazy plan?” She laughed.
And yet, despite her easy attitude, the guilt spreading across Ren’s face, saturating their features like an ink blot on parchment, persisted.
Their mouth twisted, revealing a pained grimace.
“Maybe I didn’t know exactly,” they said, “but I did plant these beans in the hope that you’d find them a nuisance. Of course, I had other reasons, too.”
“But you mostly wanted to annoy me?”
They nodded. “Like how you wanted to annoy me when you brought home Mushroom.”
“And look how well that turned out.” Pansy chuckled, nodding towards Mushroom, still snoozing away inside Ren’s hood. “You even gave him a name and everything.”
“I’d say it turned out about as well as the Running Beans,” Ren replied, the corners of their mouth quirking up ever so slightly.
“Definitely a cautionary tale against taking rumors and stereotypes at face value. Granted, I can’t bring myself to regret adopting Mushroom. He’s very cute.”
“He is,” Ren agreed, their expression softening as they reached over to give Mushroom a gentle scritch.
The sight struck Pansy like a lightning bolt to the chest. She quickly jerked her gaze away, her breathing stuttering as a rush of heat surged into her cheeks.
By some miracle, she managed to keep her voice steady when she spoke next, asking, with what might’ve been a touch too much enthusiasm, “What do these beans taste like, anyway?”
Ren shrugged, their gaze still fixed on the sleeping kitten. “Like Running Beans. We usually steam them before dusting them with rock salt.”
“In the shell?”
“Yes, but you can also peel them beforehand if you want to throw them into a soup or a stew.”
As always, food proved to be the perfect distraction.
Pansy let out a soft “ooh”, her face brightening as her focus shifted away from the strange current that had hooked beneath her skin.
“Gosh, I don’t even know what I want to make first,” she said, tapping one finger thoughtfully against her chin.
“Maybe this one tomato-based stew I really love. It’s perfect for autumn, and these beans would fit right in. ”
“I don’t know…” Ren mumbled, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, their expression equally restless.
“Don’t worry!” Pansy chirped, flashing them an exuberant grin. “It’s completely vegetarian, so you can enjoy it too!”
“That’s not what I— Ugh.” They gave a frustrated little stamp of their foot, their hands balling into fists at their side. It wasn’t until Ren let out a steadying breath that they finally started to unclench. “Fine,” they grumbled. “I guess I can spare a little bit. But only a little!”
Abruptly, Pansy found herself yanked back in time to the day of Blossom’s visit, self-consciousness crashing over her in a familiar storm of white-hot pinpricks. She ducked her head, ashamed of the ease with which she’d once again helped herself to Ren’s garden.
No wonder Ren thought her gluttonous, her thoughtlessness somehow always running parallel to her love of food.
Sure, she cooked primarily for others rather than herself, but Ren didn’t know that.
Not really. So, what else could they reach for but the “selfish, greedy halfling” they and who-knows-how-many other goblins had constructed over the years, a monolith to rival the “evil thief” Pansy’s own people had built in turn?
Except, perhaps, Ren was beginning to understand her.
They could have just as easily lashed out like before, snarled a few heated insults and stormed off in a huff.
Instead, they had opted to meet her halfway, offering compromise in the place of an unbending line.
The fact that Pansy even recognized this was, maybe, proof that she, too, was beginning to understand them just the same.
Of course, with Ren it wasn’t exactly crystal clear, her understanding of them more like a cobbled-together patchwork than a complete tapestry.
Because even when they did open up to her, Pansy couldn’t shake the feeling that they were always holding something back, drip-feeding her the truth in tiny, frustrating little increments.
As much as it grated on her, Pansy knew that trust wasn’t something she could force. She’d simply have to wait. Wait and hope that she could show Ren she was someone worth trusting.
“No, no. It’s okay,” she said quickly, waving a hand in front of her.
“If you already have plans for the beans, I can figure something else out. I’ve made quite a dent in your pantry as it is.
In fact, how about we plant the rest of these seeds I have?
I think there are a few different vegetables in here.
As much as I tried to be realistic about the whole thing, I couldn’t stop myself from dreaming. ”
Ren blinked, seemingly taken aback by her suggestion. “You want to help me plant more seeds?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Honestly, I wish I could plant them on my own, but, as I’ve already said, I don’t know that much about gardening, and I’d hate to ruin anything you’ve already put work into. This garden is your space, after all.”
For a long moment, Ren seemed at a loss for words. Several times they opened their mouth only to shut it a second later, until, finally, they said, in a soft, barely there murmur, “Most of the food I grow here, I grow for my clan. It’s why the role of Caretaker is so important.”
Understanding dawned on Pansy like a sunbeam piercing a storm cloud. No wonder Ren was so upset with me, she thought, her nerves sizzling beneath a fresh swell of acid-like shame. I might as well have plucked the food right out of their clan’s mouths!
“I’m so sorry, Ren,” she said, almost breathless with sincerity as she shot up onto her feet.
“I didn’t know. I— Of course, I understand why you didn’t tell me, but I do wish you had.
I truly just wanted to”– she made a helpless motion with her hands – “share with you. But I managed to do just the opposite.”
“It’s all right,” Ren said, shifting awkwardly. “I realize now that you didn’t mean any harm. But…” They trailed off, their jaw working. “Do you really want to plant all those seeds, knowing that the end results will just go to my clan?”
Admittedly, it hurt, the way they looked at her then, like they were terrified she was going to take it all back. Still, Pansy swallowed past the sting, forced her biggest, brightest smile and said, “Ren, knowing all that makes me want to plant those seeds even more.”
“Oh.” Ren looked down at their feet, their expression suddenly – maddeningly!
– unreadable. The only hint Pansy received as to what they were thinking was the slight upwards twitch of their ears, which she hoped was a good thing.
She thought it was, but… well, she wouldn’t put it past herself to engage in a bit of wishful thinking.
“Really, don’t worry about me,” Pansy continued, probably babbling at this point – not that she could bring herself to care. “From now on I’ll just go to Haverow for my groceries, okay? I still have some coin left over from my last catering job.”
They gave her a sidelong look. “I’m not saying this to be rude, but weren’t you banned from town?”
It was only by some miracle that Pansy managed not to flinch.
She gave an easy wave of her hand, determined to appear unbothered even though the laugh that tore free of her throat sounded hollow to even her own ears.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Surely Councilor Millwood wouldn’t go so far as to post guards by the gates. ”