Hey, everybody! This is going to be an ongoing fan fiction based off of a new run of Stardew Valley I'm going to do for myself. It's going to be a blend of a recount of my in-game days and achievements, and my literary license to dream a dream. I'm not going to have a defined schedule to update this since this is just a little ditty for me between work, friends, and rum, and my post formatting may be experimental early on, but I'll manage. This story will ultimately end up with my titular character marrying Elliot as well, I've already decided. So if you're an Elliot fan or want to be one through my personal headcanon of him, you'll have something to look forward to if you stick around for the long haul! Feel free to discuss or drop passing comments concerning my story here as well; I totally welcome it. ----------- Table of Contents: > Chapter 1. The Deed, Indeed: Part 1 | Post #2 >> Part 2 | Post #4
I. The Deed, Indeed Part 1 Spring, Year 1 If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change. Through the film of tears, I struggled to read the warped scrawl on the parchment. Somewhere in the ether still, I could hear his gruff yet hushed voice. It read along with me as I now recited from memory what I could no longer see with my eyes. I've enclosed the deed to that place... my pride and joy... Indeed: certified, signed, and wax stamped, there in my hands with his letter was the title deed to his remote estate of Lindenbrook. This property of his sat in a place on the southern coast. It was a valley town I've only ever heard of in his passing mentions of visits to a summer home, some several years ago. I clutched the documents in my hands as I lurched in my seat, a wheel rolling over yet more evidence that this road was less traveled. Shutting my eyes tight finally shed them of their building tears, and they rolled down my cheek and off my chin to dot the papers. I sniffed, only to sneeze for the umpteenth time. There was so much dust trapped into this beaten, rundown bus from a failing air conditioning system whose filters were caked with grime, I could only imagine. I stared through the smirched window and out into the lush, rolling landscape as my thoughts began to wander. For the second time, I was going to start life over again. Only now, I'm following in the footsteps of a kindhearted man, who I'm glad to call my grandfather. To recall him now, I'm reminded of our differences. As I shift my focus to the faint reflection in the mirror, I see that the dark tresses I've pinned into a tight bun, the warm tawny eyes, and the chocolaty brown skin are of a different kind of people than of he and his son, my step-father. "Hey," the driver called from up front. I snapped to attention. "You holdin' up back there?" "Oh, uhh, yeah?" I lean out of my seat to stare up the deserted aisle, catching his eyes in the rear view mirror. "Oh, yeah! Yeah, I'm fine, thanks!" I call back, laughing a little towards the end as I realized how I sounded so off-guard in an empty bus. He shared my laughter and continued. "We're comin' up to Stardew Valley just now. Ya wanna wait 'til I stop in just a few to get what you got in the overhang, 'lright?" Wiping my irritated eyes, I agreed with him before settling back in my seat. I slipped back my papers into their respective envelopes and held them dearly to my chest. An envelope from a loved one of my old life and an envelope to my keep in faraway land: to me, I could not afford to lose either. Just as the bus arrived to the stop, a terrible noise grinds and grates from below my feet before I hear the air escape the pneumatic brakes. The driver groans as I haul my only suitcase from the overhead cubby and clunk it on floor to drag behind me. As I approach, I notice he looks particularly distressed as he fiddles around with some levers I'd know nothing about. "Ooh, is everything alright, sir?" I ask, tweaking my mouth to the side as I crane my neck to see his dashboard, as if the answer was in his odometer. "Well the darn thing broke down on me!" He flung his arms into the air, and I couldn't help but imagine had a table been in front of him, how many yards it would have been chucked. "I always knew Bessie wasn't the youngest one in the shop, but she done plumb conked out on me! Now I've gotta get her done!" "Oh," I blurt. "Well..." I was already at my destination, so in all frankness, I wasn't too concerned about his trouble of maintenance, but I did try to console. "I'm sure there's a mechanic in town that can help you out, right?" "Like this backwater bush town's got any shops 'round here..." He began to grumble as he reached over his gut to unbuckle his seat belt. "Prolly gimme an ear of corn iff'n I ask for ethanol..." I tried to stifle a snort at that comment and from whom it came. I told him regardless good luck and thanks for the ride as I pushed through the doors and stepped off onto the road with my luggage. Sun and breeze hit me directly. It felt as if with just a few deep breaths, my head was immediately cleared of the gunk I suffered in the bus. The field before me was green with short grasses and a tame sprinkling of wildflowers, and the trees were the bright colors of early spring. Off to the side though, I saw figure in warm tones leaning against a stretch of hardwood fence, staring at the new arrival. I could see now as they approached that she was a woman who had one thing on her mind. "Hello, Melle," she greeted with a smile. She didn't waste any time to address me as I had stood there debating with myself if I should talk first, all the while uncomfortably staring her dead in the eye as she made the distance over. I broke into a crooked smile when it dawned on me that at that moment, I was socially inept. She introduced herself as Robin Nosurname, the local carpenter. Provided that she didn't provide me with her last name, I assumed either there was only one Robin in this valley, or she simply is the most popular and important Robin. Maybe she was just the Robin that was here first? Regardless, she continued. "Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He's tidying things up for your arrival." Lewis. The name was familiar. P.S. If Lewis is still alive say hi to the old guy for me, will ya? I recalled the name from my grandfather's note, and reflexively I glanced down at the letters in my hand. Lewis was tidying things up for me? What, was he cleaning my house? I hadn't understood. Was I that important of a person that the mayor was getting things ready for me? Lewis is still alive? Is the local carpenter letting an elderly man on the brink tidy my house? Wait--How did Robin know my name? I glanced back over my shoulder, as if the answers were behind me and not a squat, ruddy-faced man ducking his head into the drawn and smoking hood of the bus. Robin laughed as I turned back around with my telling face. "The farm's right over here," she went on with a smile, "if you'll follow me." As she began to talk about her position as carpenter and the little niceties of Stardew Valley itself, it dawned on me right then that I was actually expected. My grandfather had connections with the mayor of the town, and he must have sent word when I told him the date I planned to arrive. It must be a smaller town than I originally thought, but my nepotistic prestige was acknowledged nonetheless, something I would have never gained from the pyramid scheme for which day in and day out I toiled over JoJa Corporate's metaphorical limestone. No, I would be greeted by many because of the good works my grandfather had done, and already I would be in good graces. Life anew wouldn't be as treacherous and lonely as I had unreasonably feared it'd be. In my silent reverie that muted out her small talk, I nearly didn't catch that she had stopped walking as she turned to face me. "This is Linderbrook Farm," she announced, sweeping a lock of amber hair to pin behind her ear. I stared at what was before me. It was a vast expanse of overgrown and voracious weeds that spawned from the friable earth and clawed at the sky for more light to feed their masses, entangled with the leeching stretch of wild grasses, half of which appeared dead and dried from bad patches of hard and malnourished soil. Heads of stone--single, clustered, or even as giant, immovable, and misshapen conglomerations--could be seen poking over the lines of grass and weed, but more typically in plain sight of barren ground. If there was a forest near this lot, it couldn't be seen for the trees, as tall deciduous and evergreens sprawled some acres down. Dead wood from split and severed boughs seemed to be as ubiquitous as the grass, and yet still so many hardy trees to take the place of the broken and fallen. Giant dead stumps, leveled trunks of hardwood, and spruces still grew. It was an utter disgrace to the land, neglected and fruitless of any life not parasitic. "Is it past this dump or what," I ask her blatantly. She cants her head. "No, I mean, this is Linderbrook Farm." She motions to the abomination. When it finally sets in, I flick my head to Robin as my face contorts in panic and I search for the cruel joke in her eyes. No--I don't even permit myself that disappointment. I turn my back to her, slowly kneel down, and double over until my forehead is squarely pressed against the dirt. I concentrated very hard to will my spirit out of my body and leave this mortal coil. "What's the matter?" Robin asked, probably trying to stifle a witch's grin behind her dirty, callous-lined carpenter fingers. "Sure it's overgrown, but there's some good soil underneath that mess!" She laid a hand on my shoulder as she chirped, "With a little dedication, you'll have it cleaned up in no time." I didn't move. I just tried harder to die right then and there.
Hello, and welcome, fellow Elliott fan! I'm curious to see how someone else interprets him. Well, not a bad start for our new farmer, same as it is for all of us at one point. The real question is what happens next, and I'll have to drop in to find out, won't I? Also, I see that your liquid muse is rum, quite nice. I prefer beer myself, as drinking a bottle of that while writing produces a work of interesting and thoughtful prose, while a bottle of rum would produce something a bit more incoherent yet amusing.
Thanks for the welcome, and yes, sticking around tends to bear fruit when it comes to the storytelling business! I'm not drinking enough rum that I lose a bit of my sensibilities, at least, haha! Just enough to keep me warmed and ready to shamelessly spill the beans on Melle. As a general note, all of the formalities are finally out of the way with this second part. Next chapter will definitely be an organic experience. _________________________________ I. The Deed, Indeed Part 2 Spring, Year 1 After a minute or two failing to literally drop dead, I decided there on the ground to reconsider. I began to compose myself at Robin's polite and clearly amused behest. I stood myself up, dusted off my jeans at the knees, and took a deep breath before staring determinedly into her eyes. "Okay," I almost defensively laughed, "I'm- I'm over it." I grasp my papers to my chest and pull my luggage closer to my side. "Let's take the tour." Robin nodded with a smile, and as we stepped down a beaten path that had seen better days, we come across a small cottage. Aside from some busted floor boards on the deck and chipped wood paneling on the house, the little structure was admittedly quaint. It could certainly house one person well enough, but if the inside were anything like the state of the farm itself, it would only be more work. More work than I'd ever done back in life in the city, it seemed. "And here we are," Robin presented heartily, "You're new home!" Just on cue, the front door opened to reveal an older gentleman with a wiry, grey mustache and leather newsboy cap. At first he looked surprised himself, but then he tried to brush it off as if it were his own surprise to surprise me, saying, "Ah, the new farmer! Welcome!" He hurriedly hopped down the stairs of the deck to meet me with a smile. I just about lifted my hand off the handle of my luggage when he eagerly took my hand between his and gave it some fervent shakes. I could see under the brim of his hat the beads of sweat that formed on his brow. I could only assume he was doggedly at work, tidying. "I'm Lewis," the man greeted me, sounding a little winded. "Mayor of Pelican Town." He cleared his throat before leaning in as if to share a secret. "You know, everybody's been asking about you." I raised an eyebrow at that. So my little privilege fantasy was actually true! News of my arrival must have been the best thing to happen to this small town in a while, and he only confirmed it. Then he turned to gaze upon the house, taking off his cap to wipe his forehead before speaking once more. "So... You're moving into your grandfather's old cottage. It's a good house. Very 'rustic'." He glanced back at me and gave me a quick wink, to which I gave a halfhearted, obligatory chuckle, considering my circumstances. "Rustic?" Robin's shoulders shuddered as she pressed her lips thin to stifle a laugh. "That's one way to put it... 'Crusty' might be a little more apt, though." I gave Robin the side-eye. Even though it was exactly what I was thinking, it didn't help to know that she was thinking it, too. I would have been perfectly fine living in denial that my situation wasn't as bad as it seemed. Why, she was just optimistic about this jungle of a yard not but a few minutes earlier. Was the carpenter trying some sneaky tactic to push her services on me, already? The mayor chastised her as she finally couldn't hold back her laughter, but he called her out on yet another suspicion I shared. "Don't listen to her, Melle," he grunted, glaring out the corner of his eye at the heckler. "She's just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of her house upgrades." We both turned to stare at Robin, whose laughter was cut short and whose face turned into a look of indignation when she caught the cutting words. She looked away, crossing her arms as her desperation for fresh business was exposed. The mayor placed a hand on my shoulder, his mustached cocked to the side in a smirk. He suggested that I go and rest, something that I surely needed after a long journey. "Tomorrow you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that." 'Thank you," I began. "Oh, by the way, I, ah, I have proof that the property is now in my name, and--" Lewis puts up his hand to halt me right then. He shook his head with a smile. "That's for you to keep, not me. I already know who you are, Melle, and so does the county clerk. Now, have a good day." As I watched the green shirt walk away, I looked down at the papers in my hand. I had never been involved prior in the granting of this property. I was expecting the legalistic approach that the big city adopted for most things: lawyers, party proceedings, delegations and relegation. I supposed then that country living was far more straightforward--or so my grandfather had arranged this entire process to be--and I felt just a little bit more relieved. "Oh, I almost forgot," called Lewis, a few paces down the beaten path, motioning me to approach. I looked back over at Robin to see if she'd come with, but her back was still turned as she apparently needed time to collect herself from her earlier embarrassment. Paying her no mind, I trotted up to the mayor. He moved toward something that I had previously overlooked coming in: a large wooden bin. He slapped his hand on it and said "If you have anything to sell, just place it in this box here. I'll come by during the night to collect it." "You sure do a lot of manual labor for a mayor," I lightheartedly speculated. He burst out laughing, taking a finger to his brow to wipe off the beads of sweat that shook loose from his forehead. "Well, you know what they say: 'If you want something done right'..." Then from under his 'stache was a broad grin, as he lifted his hand in parting. "Good bye, Melle. You'll be a fine edition to Pelican Town, we all know it. Well... Good luck!" I thanked him, and as I watched him walk away, I gripped my luggage tighter before turning back to my new house, a small sense of reassurance lit somewhere inside of me. While I tried to get my single load up the steep, creaky steps to the deck, I saw Robin wordlessly head off without so much as a signaled goodbye. I caught a glimpse of her face, clouded with a brooding look and a distance in her eyes. Robin left a poor impression on me.
Well, time to unpack and see if this new home is sturdier than it appears. As long as it keeps out the rain and critters it's better than nothing, right?
