Grumpy Old Dude Become Substitute Father To Wild And Angry Child So She Doesnt Get Found By Others And Get Herself Killed. - Tumblr Posts
I know all I have done since I posted stories here is write a chapter/2 chapters and not continue, I will continue them I promise but I really wanted to write this as I am a slave to the found family trope. Enjoy grumpy old man (unwillingly) becomes guardian to a chaotic little girl. Inspired by Tlou Ellie and Joel as well as GoT the hound and arya.
Thorn in my side
(Prologue)
The actual story will be MUCH longer but this is just a lil intro
Triggers: cursing I guess? But that will be the case with most chapters because addie knows some colourful words and likes to throw them around
>:)
If anything could be said without any argument it would be that the man wasn't what one would call welcoming. While he hadn't got much nice virtues in his favour, he had got a colourful array of other descriptive words to choose from. Brutish, nasty, bitter, ill-tempered (-short tempered too) and those were just starter options to a more deliciously verbal main course.
From what could be gathered while sneaking around the alleys, some villagers deemed he wasn't all bad, even vowed that 'so long as you leave him alone, don't talk to him, look at him and depending the day, you don't breathe insufficiently around him, you'll be fine'. That advice seemed to have spread like a wildfire, and slowly but surely, it appeared as if an unavowed agreement was set to leave him be to his indulgences, far out in his small cottage home at the edge of the kingdom.
Despite it all, he didn't pay their mindless gossip any attention- if anything it seemed he reveled in it, loving that it ensured the most loud and obnoxious 'citizens' would stay far far away from his vicinity. And should they get too close, the simple solution was one hard glare over the shoulder from his peripheral to send them running back home- some in tears. Some might say he was a bit of an 'old prune' or 'sad sour vessel of a man'. A man filled with nothing but grotesque hatred for anything and anyone around him, be it the townspeople, village or the whole damn kingdom.
And unfortunately, the old man didn't do the rotten rumours any favours. He never cared for the unbidden pesky pokes and prods at his life, and had he cared, he may have even humoured their outlandish claims.
Though all that being said he wasn't devoid of finding solitude. It was quite clear he did like quiet things. Being devoid from sounds of sappy children and stumbling drunkards eased such simplicite interests. The only sounds he seemed to find solace in was the buzz and hums of wildlife while tending his crops, the pitter-patter of rain hopping about like grasshoppers against the stone wall and the crackle from the hearth as its warmth billowed about his only comfort, his home.
He didn't confide and he didn't care, he was just a isolated gruff man who seemed alot deeper than the wretched rumours had precieved. From any other perspective however, it could fairly be assumed that his heart had been thorn out many moons ago, or perhaps buried, deep deep down, into depths of tarnished emotions.
It was too bad Addie couldn't aid him in his predicament.
From afar she could pity the man, and she'd only been there a fortnight thus far, from what she gathered he just needed..something, maybe a hound, hounds couldn't talk as far as she knew. Though perhaps a lazy one, that wouldn't bark at the slightest jitter.
It was clear from her restless week long trail through the kingdom that his behaviour towards townsfolk and himself personally were two different matters entirely- from what she picked up from gossip of course. He had been in the markets that day, and from the coverage scrouing the grimy streets from the plants, drains, carriages and the sort, all she could gather was the pitiful whispers about town, that 'the old troll had left his cave'.
It was abundantly obviously to even the thickest of minds this man's home was void of any life besides his own. That had been good enough for her. Despite hiding for dear life from all those around her, it had been a rare occasion were she had been happy to be around someone of such..stature. A ticket to an easy few weeks, unbothered by children, maids or fiendish cats. But still, from her time 'spent with him' (if you could even call it that) she had become divided in her own mind. Part of her found sorrow in seeing him all alone, even a little anger towards all the dreadful hushed chatter she overheard before she had happened upon his satchel, slipping inside unbeknownst to the gruff old man, in his pursuit of purchasing..whatever it was he was buying. Another part of her played offence, accusatory in the nature that he had formed the reputation himself, had he shown even the inching of a smile maybe, just maybe, his situation wouldn't be so dire. But he dug his grave and now he had to lie with his misery and consequence. And that made sympathy a rather hard feeling to render him by.
Either side of her inner turmoil could agree on one thing when it come down to it. Lest he change his ways there was no saving him.
Once she was stocked up she'd be moving on, she was quite conflicted on wether she'd feel relief or regret on leaving such a sad husk of a man, but there was nothing to be done. Nothing she could- would do. Especially given that even with her conflicted pity, he was still one of them- hatred toward others like him or not.
If it came to priorities she was putting herself first. It was a dangerous world for those one twelfth of the average height. Even more so when said people were believed to be a dying species. And were a rarity for two gruelling reasons- both stemming from blood. Its taste, and its qualities. Humans in these times were sought out now for a palatable delicacy or for cures, tinctures that could cure even the deadliest of diseases- or so the presumptuous prodigious pricks had persuaded one another into believing. Either way, the thought made her sick. All that loss, to satisfy the mind, or the stomach. But this was life now, and she was determined to live it. Endure and survive it.
Alas, she hadn't planned to stay long. A few weeks at most, with a week spent grafting the streets and fourteen nights in his abode it summed to three tiresome weeks thus far. It was stock up and carry on. Take what you can, leave what you must. There was codes to follow, they had been set out by her family, and in the time she got to have with them, each member followed them wholeheartedly. Her dad had been to teach her. God she missed him. His absence had hit the hardest. Despite the years that had past, his loss was still so vivid. In the waking world and dream realm alike. Her mother was a sweet traditional lady, well kept, strict but tender, loving to all those around her. But her father, he had shown her everything, taught her everything. He crafted the person she had become and he was partly her biggest motivation to keep going.
In theory, being reunited with her family wouldn't take long. All she'd really have to do was let a single giant see her. In whatever morbid twisted fate she’d be granted, it would eventually lead home. Home to the warmth of her mother's embrace, the lingering whispers of love and meaning in her fathers voice. Home as both held her tight and never let go. Despite its gruesome reality, it was a nice dream- but her families memory was worth more than ending up as a garnish on a plate, a plate already full of greed and an unquenchable thirst for more and more. For them, she'd keep going. For them she would reach the haven. Be amongst her people once more, bring normality back into the world, despite being born into the current way of life for humanity. To her in a way everyday had become the status quo. But the faith of getting to experience what life had been. Now that would be something.
So she would deal with this grouch for another few weeks or so, then continue her journey. Her long long journey, to salvation.
At least. That's what she hoped would happen. That was the plan after all.
Getting caught was not.