You never have until now, though groups of them had been coming close to your town recently. They were a strong and often war like race and the land you lived on had once belonged to them. It was a miserable little town, dry and ugly, but they wanted it back and had been scaring your neighbors.
Maybe that’s why they had captured this one, to send a message to the others.
He was…beautiful.
His top half had dark brown skin and eyes so brown they were almost black. His hair was long, tied into a neat braid. He had tattoos across both biceps, black ink shining on hisx built arms. His lower half was just as lovely, the body of a beautiful mustang with strong legs and a long tail.
He was absolutely beautiful, you throught.
And he was fighting back, pulling at the ropes and shouting insults you couldn’t understand. The people around him jeered and attacked but you…stayed away. You always stayed away. Though you lived in the town, it was on the outskirts and away from the others.
They didn’t like you.
They never had, whispering behind your back as you walked through the dusty streets, your nose in a book. Any attempt to make friends ended badly so you just stopped trying.
You simply stayed away, like they wanted.
Watching in the shadows as they bound him between two poles in the middle of the town. He pulled and fought and spit at the people around him, but he was unable to break free.
“No food! No water! Nothing until his kind agree to our terms!” The general shouted.
General Cane was the unofficial leader of the town, the others following his words like dogs. He was handsome to others, but all you saw were hateful eyes and a mouth that spit venom.
You hated him with a burning passion.
Maybe that was why he constantly harassed you. You wanted to leave before you were really noticed but the only path to your home…was right past them.
So you walked quickly and quietly, clutching a novel to your chest and hoping that no one would notice you.
Sadly, the General did and he quickly approached you, just as you were getting closer to centaur.
“Morning, Miss Y/N.”
“Good morning.” You replied, polite yet curt as you quickened your pace.
“Quite a day, don’t you agree? Finally teaching that lot a harsh lesson.” He said proudly.
“No. I don’t agree.”
He confident grin fell but quickly returned.
“Maybe we ought to discuss our difference of opinion over dinner then?” He asked, reaching for your arm.
“No thank you, General.” You replied, stepping away from his grasp.
“Too busy?”
You paused, looking at him with a bored expression.
“No.”
And you continued walking. As the General glared at you, you heard the centaur cough. His face was hidden by his hair but…you got the idea he was trying not to laugh. And it made you smile as you walked a littled faster.
As the week went on in your little town, the General continued to bother you. You continued to avoid him, and the centaur continued fighting. But he was getting weaker, the lack of food and water weakening him…And it broke your heart to see such a beautiful man suffer.
So one late night, you snuck into the town and approached him.
It was late and cold and he looked…broken. Slowly, you came foward and reached into your bag. He heard your footsteps and looked up, tired and angry.
“I don’t agree with what’s being done to you. And I want to help you…but if you’re going to escape, you need to get your strength up.”
It was the first night you fed him food and water, standing on a rock so you could reach him. The next day, he still acted weak but you noticed a light in his dark eyes…and he secretly smiled at you as you walked by. You returned that night, feeding him again…but this time he spoke.
“Thank you.”
“So you can speak English! I thought so.”
He grinned and said,
“I like it better when people don’t know. But you are trust worthy…”
“What’s your name?” You asked.
“Chesmu.”
“I’m Y/N.”
You continued your secret meetings and Chesmu continued his charade, acting weak and broken until the day came. The day you had planned together and waited for…
General Cane untied him, boldly talking about how all “these wild creatures need to be beaten down” and “taught who owns them and this land.”
It was a disgusting speech but you still stayed, watching as the General did perhaps the dumbest thing anyone could ever do a centaur:
He attempted to ride Chesmu, without his permission.
He strode around as the people laughed…And then you caught the centaur’s eye. His dark, brilliant eyes that twinkle boldly. And in a second, he was bounding away, tossing the General off of his back as he shouted in his own tongue. People screamed, backing away as Chesmu bolted for freedom…right towards you.
You soon found yourself being picked up into his strong arms and placed onto his back as he ran.
“Hold onto me!” He shouted.
Still shocked, you did as told. And soon, the shouting and the chaos and the little town were long gone, left behind in the dust as Chesmu escaped.
“I don’t remember this being part of the plan.” You said.
“That dog found out! I heard him and another talking…they were going to hurt you. I couldn’t let him hurt you…”
Suddenly, Chesmu pretending not to know English seemed pretty brilliant. Who knows what the General had planned for you…Chesmu eventually stopped running, slowing down to a calm walk.
“Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you…someone I like as much as you. I did not want to leave you with them because I feel that…You belong with me.”
You smiled, kissing his shoulder softly. Your hands were resting on his bare chest and you could feel how wild his heart was beating.
“I’m happy you feel the same way, Chesmu. I was going to miss you when you left…”
His warm hand rested over yours, pressing you closer to him. To his heart.
“This belongs to you, Y/N. Will you keep it?”
“Yes.”
And with that, he started running again, bolting towards the new life you would soon build together. 🖤
(Is this shamelessly based on both Beauty and the Beast and Spirit? Yes. Yes it is.)
He wraps you in his arms at night, and you can’t help but feel safe. You taught him archery, and he taught you to bask in nature. Sometimes, you would wake up with flowers braided into your hair, and he would laugh. There he was, such a strong, tall centaur that could carry you with one arm. Laughing because, “Isn’t it funny that the flowers just seem to fall into place like that?” Even he knew it was a foolish joke- but he still braided flowers into your hair and pretended it was the wind.
You’d spend lazy summer days together, watching the sun dapple distant meadows and watching the sun set over forests alive with the chirping of crickets. Winters would come and you would sit beneath the eerily quiet trees, humming to each other to feel a little less alone.
He let you ride on his back so that you could travel to towns you could never reach on foot. You two explored to your heart’s content and when all was said and done you rested around a bonfire in each other’s arms. And what strong arms he had. All the better to hold you. And his lips, all the better to kiss you. Whenever your lips met, his curly hair would always flop into his face. It made you laugh. He was so sweet.
A collection of mismatched, sewn together skin. He was too tall, too skinny, too ugly to even look at. His eyes were large, one yellow and one green, and scary he had been told. He hid himself in the shadows like all of his kind did, covering himself beneath thick, tattered cloaks and masks that covered his monstrous face.
It was safer this way. Even if he hated it.
No one to scream at him, not torches or pitchforks, no stonings. He may be alone, living in darkest of places, but he was living and that was more then most of his kind could say. So it was enough.
At least…it was until he met you.
At first, he was content with simply watching you. You were so…lovely. You smelled sweet and you were so kind. He had noticed you as you took care of the strays in the alley behind your home. Instead of kicking them away or ignoring them like so many others did, you were gentle. You gave them food and water, even names.
He liked that. The naming.
He didn’t have a name of his own and had often wondered what his ought to be. He wondered if you would name him…it was that thought that convinced him to stay. He just wanted to be close to you.
He liked you.
Everyday, he would watch over your little bookshop. Knowing a bit of magic, he cast a good fortune spell, hoping to bring a little buisness to your shop. It worked too, a fact that filled him with pride. Feeling confident, he cast another spell shortly after. A karma spell, punishing the people who were mean to you and your workers. Hearing your laugh when another rude customer got hit with a bought of karma was music to his ears!
He had meant to cast a third spell.
He had seen them, humans who crept in the darkness and stole.
Some did it because they had too (as he often did), others did it because they wanted to. They were of the second kind. He began to worry that they might break into your shop and rob you, maybe even hurt you, so he immediately began searching for a good protection spell.
But he found it too late. Just as he had carved the marking into your doorway, he heard it.
A loud clatter.
The sound of heavy boots on old floors.
A scream.
He ran, ran faster then he ever had from the mobs. He rushed into your shop from the broken backdoor, finding two men. One was shouting, trying to break the safe. And the bigger one was holding you, your limp body in his arms. They both froze when they saw him, staring in shock.
He knew exactly what they thought, it was whst all humans thought. Ugly. Evil. Monster. The words hurt but this time he used them to his advantage. Rising to his full height, he glared at the men, his green and gold eyes glowing.
“Get. Out.”
When he spoke, his voice was no more than a low whisper but it did the trick. They fled, rushing past him into the darkness. The second man had dropped you but he caught you, he couldn’t just let you fall to the floor.
Looking around, he saw books all over and a couple of small shelves on the floor. The door would need replacing, he realized, among other things. Guilt racked his four hearts as he sighed sadly.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have cast my protection spell earlier…I should have stopped this.”
“I don’t blame you.” A voice suddenly said.
He almost screamed at you sat up, looking right at him.
“I…I thought…I thought that…they had hurt you.” He stammered.
“They tried,” you said as you smiled, “so I just played possum. I was really surprised when they dropped me so thanks for catching me.”
He could barely think right now let alone speak. Realizing that he was still holding you in his arms, he quickly let you go and tried to leave. But you stopped him, grabbing his arm gently and asking him to please wait.
“Those carvings, the spells, did you make them?” You asked.
He nodded, still to scared to say a word.
“Good fortune, karma, protection. You were trying to help me. Why?”
“Because…because you’re nice. To the cats. To everyone. You’re not like most humans.” He whispered.
You said nothing for a moment, only looking at him. He wondered what you were thinking and what you were going to do. A part of him feared that you would yell at him, hurt him, and that he would be forced to flee.
But you didn’t.
Instead you kissed his hand and thanked him for bring so kind. He was both baffled and enchanted, unable to do anything except for stare.
“What’s your name?” You asked.
“I…I don’t have one. We call ourselves Nobody or Nothing but I didn’t like those names…”
“Hmm…can I call you Tolkien?”
Tolkien. The author. He nodded happily, saying his new name to himself quietly. Tolkien…
“Well, Tolkien,” you said, “it’s nice to officially meet you.”
~
He stayed. For the first time in his long life, he stayed. Your basement was nice and cozy and, when the shop was closed, Tolkien would join you upstairs.
He had books and food and a warm place to sleep and a name of his very own but best of all…he had you.
Toad's Cave 