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II.
"Really, Hilda? Did'ja need to tackle 'im to the floor like that?"
Ford stirred. He could smell a pleasant aroma wafting around the air, the kind that one could associate with food and a homely meal, and also faintly became aware of the scent of smoke lingering after the broth-like smell. His fingers flexed and he dimly registered the sensation of lying down on a bench and atop a pile of pillows, and somewhere to his right he heard voices, lowered but perfectly hearable, as they only had the crackle of a merry hearth fire to contend with in the silence.
"Sorry! Sorry..." Came a somewhat high-pitched, female voice that he recognized as Hilda's. She sounded sheepish and rather ashamed, "I didn' really believe it were him, y'know, I got excited..."
An exhasperated voice answered, the voice of his brother, "Goodness, Hilda, you're lucky no one else came by t'investigate the ruckus, unless you were hopin' the butcher's son would pass by?"
"No!" Hilda squeaked, "It weren't like that at all! You'd have done the same if you saw him!"
"Not knockin' out m'own brother, no, but I think I'd have though' he'd be an illusion or somethin', and then punched him to make sure."
"Finn!"
Ford opened his eyes. The man found he was indeed lying on a bench, covered in a blanket along with the sensation of something cold pressing against the back of his head. He winced as he briefly poked at the tender bruise forming there and looked around. Hilda and Finn were both standing in front of the hearth to his right, both brown-haired like him, although unlike him and Finn, Hilda's eyes were a shade of light green that Ford had assumed was inherited from his mother's side of the family. Hilda was wearing an apron over her nightgown and Finn was dressed in a simple green tunic and blue trousers, a slight smile on his face. Hilda, however, looked less than amused, and upon seeing Ford raise his head rushed over to his side.
"Ford!" She said, reaching over to hold his hand, "Are you all righ'? Do you feel dizzy? Sick?"
"Don't knock him into the bench." Finn quipped, smiling slightly. Hilda kicked out behind her with a foot and struck Finn's knee, causing him to wince.
"I'm fine, I'm fine..." Ford mumbled, sitting up and groaning a bit. He saw that he had been resting on a water skin, "What happened? Why'm I suddenly inside?"
"Hilda knocked you out when she leapt at you." Finn explained, to which Hilda sheepishly looked away, embarassed, "Poor mister Keaton were walkin' by and dropped a box of cakes in fright, poor man, he helped us carry you inside."
Ford blinked at the mention of being carried off by multiple people. He had barely stepped a foot into his own house and had already managed to embarrass himself spectacularly. Finn in particular, instead of seeming angry like he had predicted, simply appeared amused at the current situation, and Hilda was already stood up and fussing over him. He would have much preferred it if he could melt into the floor instead and felt his cheeks grow hot with embarassment.
"Er, he's no' going to tell anyone about this, is he?" Ford asked wearily.
Finn shook his head, "Don' worry, I've told him that you'd prefer if no one knew you were here. Man migh' be a bit of a nervous wreck at times but he'll keep his word."
He sighed in relief. He didn't come to the village at sundown just to get himself exposed and have the entire town talking about his return, especially with the risk that Ellie and Hudd might end up getting a wind of his visit to Combe.
Stars. Ellie and Hudd. He thanked his lucky stars that he didn't come across them at the village square. The Red Anvil was luckily situated on a hill leading up to the old lumber yard, which meant that he would have had to walk past his own house if he wanted to visit the old forge. He wondered whether the two were still out and about or sleeping, and glanced out the window. Night had long since fallen over the horizon, so he guessed that he must have been passed out for quite a while.
"Where's mum and dad?" Ford asked, furrowing a brow.
"Went to the Comb and Wattle I reckon, it's just us for now." Hilda replied, sitting down on a wooden chair next to the hearth. Her form had gotten more slender and curvier in the year that they hadn't seen each other, and somewhere in the back of Ford's mind, he wondered whether this was the sort of figure normal men desired in a woman and whether he was going to be chasing off potential suitors with his hammer in the future.
"They'll get a righ' shock when they see you, so they will." Finn mused, sitting in a chair opposite to Hilda's. He crossed his legs and eyed Ford studiously, before slowly saying, "Took you a while to visit, eh, Ford?"
Ford fell silent. Finn might have been the joker among them while growing up, but he always went straight to the point and was serious when he wanted to be. Hilda frowned at her older brother and looked at Ford, uneasily stating, "Eh, Finn, he needed to get out of here, I reckon I'd have done the same if it was me."
"You don't know why exactly he left though, do you, Hil?" Finn retorted, his own frown deepening. Ford could see that he was looking at him with a questioning stare, his eyes flicking over to Hilda with the smallest of head tilts. It was an expression that he could plainly read: Are you going to tell her or not?
"No..." Hilda conceeded, now eyeing Ford with furrowed brows, "Was there somethin' else that made you leave, Ford?"
His fingers twitched and he touched the back of his head. Finn had known about his preferences for years as a result of a drunken slip up when he was sixteen winters old, but Hilda they kept in the dark as they didn't think it necessary to tell her while she was still so young. With Hilda growing up and now almost nearing her sixteenth however, it had seemed unfair to Ford - and he was sure Finn felt the same way, as they often spoke of her when exchanging letters - that she should be excluded from the little secrets they shared with one another.
"Er, well..." Ford began slowly. Finn gave him an encouraging nod.
Hilda, however, frowned again, "Something you never told me, was it now? Don't pretend I can' see Finn giving you looks like that."
Ford sighed. Hilda was ever observant, and deflecting in a situation like this was not going to do him any favours, so he opted to be truthful, "Remember when I left, you told me to bring back beautiful women?"
She nodded.
"Well, see, it weren't really beautiful women that went through my head when you said that..." He said sheepishly. He wished he had a drink in his hand. Stars, this was much easier to talk about when he was tipsy. So, so much easier. He was starting to sweat and panic again, but Finn's ever-present stare was the anchor that rooted him to the bench.
Hilda stared at him blankly, clearly lost. He surpressed the urge to smile at her confused expression and instead searched around the foot of the bench for his messenger bag, which he found resting against the leg of the bench. He picked it up and peered inside to look at the repaired teddy bear, drawing it out and standing up to offer the bear to Hilda with a nervous smile, "I might've been thinkin' about the opposite."
Hilda blinked at the bear and reached out to take it in to her arms, looking baffled, yet at the same time touched by the fact that he had even managed to repair it with his poor sewing skills. She thoughtfully hugged it, visibly stewing over the thoughts in her mind as she pieced together the implication, and raised her head with widened eyes when realization hit her.
"Oh."
(OOC: Any feedback for the writing and narrative would be appreciated. 
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