A/N: Okay. This was inspired by...a lot of things. First off, the way that Finn answered a question over that the WU formspring - sort of by the story Once Upon a Dream by anihyrmoonstar - and a big part by a certain huge list of songs, which will be supplied if anybody's interested (:

So this thing's in three parts, doesn't have too much of a point and it's unedited...but I hope you enjoy it anyway! :D

Words (total): 8,093

Warnings: HarvxFinn, fem!Finn, slight AU.

Sometimes, Harv actually wanted to get out of bed and go to school. This was not one of those days.

It was an endless dance that they were in; he would lunge for her and she would spin away, laughing as though she knew how much he loved her laugh.

Even with Big and Puck crawling over him and yelling (or not, in Big's case, Big didn't yell much, and Puck did enough of that for the both of them) Harv was content to stay where he was and try to snatch at the wonderful wisps of dreams that were quickly fading.

"HAARV!" Screamed Puck in his ear, grabbing a fistful of the oldest brother's hair and tugging at it. "Get up! Help me get Big!"

Harv swatted at Puck. "G'way," he muttered unhappily. He hated having to share the straw mattress with his younger brothers, but didn't think that the situation was going to be changed anytime soon.

The eight-year-old avoided the swipe and tugged at Harv's hair again. "Haaaarvey," He whined loudly. "Haaaarvey!"

"Fine!" Snapped Harv, sitting up abruptly and dislodging the child from his hair. He struggled out of the blanket and stomped across the 'bedroom', swiping up Big from their parents' straw mattress and dropping him roughly beside Puck.

It was way too early to be out of bed. He just wanted to go back to sleep and get those dreams back.

She'd flip her hair over her should as if she knew that Harv loved how soft and wavy and long it was, and made him pause, reach out for her hair. It had continued like that for a while, in the middle of the dreamscape of blue-black sky and silken ground.

Well…not the entire dream. Just parts of it, different parts of the different dreams. Only the parts that involved Finnily.

—but not like that. Even if a fair few of that sort of thing had crept into his subconscious, it didn't mean that he wanted to continue dreaming those parts of those dreams, because Finnily was his best friend. She'd never think of him as anything more. Ever. And he had to accept that and move on already.

(But that didn't mean that the dreams weren't nice while they lasted, he just wasn't wishing back those parts during the day.)

Ahem. Anyway. Harv blushed furiously, ducking his head as he moved through the kitchen area to the front door, in order to avoid his moms questioning gaze. He muttered a hello to her and ignored her—well, pretended not to hear her, but that was still ignoring—when she asked him to get down the salt for her please, honestly, why did their father insist on storing it so high up like that?

He really wished that those thoughts of Finnily would just get out of his head already. He kind of felt the need to bang his head against a wall, constantly, in order to clear those thoughts away.

Harv continually told himself it was for his own good, because Finnily would never return any sort of romantic interest, and it'd be better to just keep thinking of her as his best friend; only bad would come out of thinking about her in other ways.

But part of Harv didn't believe himself.

Then, Finnily had spun away and appeared behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her jaw on shoulder, where it met his neck, and breathed softly on the skin there, making him freeze as chills ran up and down his body.

Harv had no idea how he was going to deal with school today—it would be a nightmare. He didn't quite know what he'd do while 'hanging out' with Finnily that afternoon, either; he had a feeling it'd be a tad hard to go on as they normally did.

His dreams always went like this. This was the part when he always woke up. This was the part where he turned around, slowly, and dared to put his arms around her waist, the part there noses nearly brushed, the part where he was so close to her—the part just when he woke up.

He hurried away from the house, towards the well, to get himself a drink of water before facing the day. When he got the watering hole, he leaned over the edge and caught a glimpse of his face in the shadowed water way down below.

Dreams were stupid, he decided with a snort. The reflection of his red face didn't agree, though.

There was a cloud overhead that was starting to look like a duck. Harv frowned deeply at it.

He'd been having strange dreams lately, which involved a duck and Finnily and her purple dress, but it wasn't the dress that was the problem; it was the duck that continued to tell him to embrace his inner desires.

He was kind of afraid that those desires involved his best female friend, but he didn't want to think about that, now or ever, because it was never going to happen. (He knew this for sure.)

He rolled onto his stomach so that he wouldn't have to see the duck shaped cloud any longer, gave a gusty sigh and watched the helpless blades of grass bend under the force.

An odd moment of insight came to Harv. Blades of grass were so tiny and insignificant, helpless, nearly useless, and so numerous. They were so resistant, being stepped on all the time, but always stood straight anyway. He wondered if being compared to a blade of grass would be a good or bad thing—probably good.

It felt very quiet. Too quite. It wasn't normal for him to have a moment like this, alone, away from his siblings and without Finnily. For some reason, it made him nervous, like something was going to pop out at him at any moment—Puck or Big, or the phsycopathic unicorn or—


"AUUGH!" He let out a strangled yell, and had hauled himself to his feet within moments, only to find himself facing an extremely annoyed Finnily.

"God," she sighed, arms crossed. "You are deaf!"

He gave her an odd look and followed her with his eyes as she tossed herself down onto the grass beside where'd just been lying. Her blonde waves of hair sprawled out behind her head, pillowing between it and the grass; her arms flopped down at angles to her body. After tossing himself down as well, he asked, "What's your problem today?"

"What's my problem?" she snapped. "What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," he replied, a grumble. "Seriously, is something wrong?"

"No," Finn grouched. "Everything's just fine and dandy."

"Why'd you come over if you're gunna be like this?"

There was a long stretch of silence, then, in which the duck-shaped-cloud inched across the sky as though it had nothing better to do. In Harv's opinion, it could go ahead and evaporate already. The wind tugged at it bit by bit as it moved sluggishly along, yanking it out of shape little by little, and this was just fine with Harv.

He wouldn't have minded sitting in silence and watching the duck-cloud become deformed, thinking nothing, for a long time, but of course Finn spoke up and broke it; she'd never been good at meditation and the like, anyway.

"What I don't understand," she said loudly, causing Harv to glance her way. She was glaring at the sky like it had personally offended her. "Is why my mother is so intent on my learning witchcraft. I mean, hell-o, I don't want to get burned at the stakes!"

Oh, thought Harv, wincing a little. So that's what that was all about.

She went on like that, ranting and complaining about the stupid green-skinned witches that always were on the edge of their land, and had once poisoned her mother and stolen her invisible flying disk, and then admitted that okay, the invisible flying disk was pretty cool, way cooler than a broom, at least, and the tricky illusions were pretty neat, but she didn't want to be hated, she wanted to be liked and not feared and why didn't her mother get that?

Harv, unfortunately, didn't have anything at all to add to the conversation—hah, could it even be called a conversation?—so he listened, or tried to, to her going on about it all.

"—expected of me, since mother's one, you know, and all of her sisters too, my aunts, but that's totally unfair—"

Finnily was really pretty when she was mad. Her cheeks got flushed and her body language became excessive, but…it was cute.

Harv promptly pushed that thought from his mind. Not going to happen, he reminded himself. Ever. And besides, she's my best friend.

"—to do other things, like perfect my harp playing and maybe sing a bit better! But it's not like I'd ever want to do silly domestic tasks like sewing or cooking or something, besides, I'm rubbish at both—"

Harv could agree with Finn's point on cooking, not like he'd say it to her face. But she had agreed that of the two of them, his cooking was better. He did help his mom a lot with that, didn't he? And took care of his brothers a lot—if he ever had kids, he'd probably be the one taking care of them, mostly, and an image of himself and Finnily taking care of a little todder was promptly pushed from his mind, where did it get these ideas from?

"—don't care if it seems shallow, either, but I should be allowed to be sort of shallow about this, you know! As if I'd ever really be shallow, though, because, well. Obviously, I'm not, but anyway, it's alright to be like that about being liked and further, about dying—you know the punishment for practicing witchcraft! Mother only gets away with it because everyone's afraid of her, and she turned that one knight into a frog—"

"She WHAT?" Yelped Harv. "She turned someone into a frog?"

Finnily scowled. "Well, he deserved it! Anyway, that's not my point—"

The cloud that had looked like a duck was starting to become deformed. Good. Sudden, a hand obstructed his view of the sky and then there was a sharp pain in his nose.

Harv scowled and snatched Finnily's wrist from the air; she hadn't even realized she'd hit him, had she? He sat up quickly and pinned her hand down, and then the other, leaning over her, glaring.

"What are you—" Finnily asked; her teeth clicked together at the end of the word, he jaw clenching shut; her purple eyes were round.

"You hit me," he declared, giving her a sort of suspicious look.

"Sorry," she squeaked. "That doesn't mean you have to—"

Harv gave a bit of a sigh. "Look, Finn," he said to her. "If I let you up, you're probably going to end up smacking me again, with how much you're waving your arms."

She started to protest, but Harv didn't want to hear it: "I know you're upset about the witchcraft thing, but it'll be okay, won't it? Your mom won't force you into anything, and as far as I know, you're not going to be letting anybody tell you what to do for a while yet. So…you don't have to worry so much."

"I…" She blinked at him, and gave him a small smile. "…thank you."

It was Harv's turn to blink, now. "Did you just thank me?"

Finnily snorted and tugged her hands, trying to free them from the grip of Harv's fingers. She avoided his eyes when she asked, "Suddenly, saying thank you is so out of character for me?"

"I can count all the times you've said it to me and meant it on one hand," Said Harv dryly, and noting her attempts of struggles, realized their position. A blush lit his cheeks and he sat back hurriedly, snatching back his hands as though Finnily were suddenly on fire. She followed him up, keeping their faces about the same distance apart as before.

"You're still going to that Warrior University place," she stated, changing the subject. "To become…a knight?"

"That's right," Harv replied, feeling a tad awkward and a little upended by the change of topic. "What—"

"I wish I could go to," She sighed, "being a bard sounds pretty neat."

"Doesn't that—"

"Harv, you have to graduate with good grades and become a knight for me."

She said this completely seriously, looking straight at Harv. He felt the sudden need to gulp, but fought it; he said, "That's what I was planning to do. Why's it suddenly for you—?"

"You know," the girl interrupted him and stood swiftly, brushing bits of grass from her purple dress and the tops of her boots for a moment after the first two words, before continuing, "Ladies don't marry down."

He gave her a confused look. She snorted.


"And that's why you have to become a knight, Harvey."

"I don't—"

But she was gone, trotting off towards the dusty road which lead towards the forest in which her home was located, leaving Harv sitting atop the hill and blushing, wondering if his best friend had been serious just then, because, surely, she hadn't been suggesting they get married in the future.

He flopped backwards. The cloud still looked like a duck, albeit a deformed one.

"Rhodri!" Yelped Harv when he came across his younger brother behind the grain field (and behind a little hill, was he sitting in front of a hole?). The younger boy quickly hid a shiny something behind his back, but not fast enough; Harv had already seen the object.

"Nothing!" Yelled Rhodri, which, honestly, just made him seem even guiltier than he already did.

"Was that a—?" Harv stomped towards his younger brother, frowning. "Who'd you steal that from?"

"No one! I didn't steal anything!" the dirt-smudged younger boy glared up at his brother, a contest that Harv wouldn't let him win. After several minutes of staring, Harv attempted a lunge around his younger sibling, grabbing at the object; this failed the first attempt, but after several long minutes of struggling, Harv came out victorious. He held in his hand a necklace with a huge diamond as a pendant.

He tightened his fingers around it as he held it above his head, out of the twelve-year-old's reach.

"Give that back!" protested Rhodri. "It was gift!"

"Who'd you steal it from?" Harv demanded, ignoring Rhodri when he continued to insist it was a given to him fairly. Because, really. Who would willingly give Rhodri a diamond necklace? Those were expensive and rare!

"Nobody! I already told you, it was given to me," Rhodri stuck out his tongue at his older brother, and lunged for the necklace again.

"I'll give to mom and she'll take it to town!" Harv threatened. "Or I'll take it there myself! I can give it to the Headmaster, and he'll figure out whose it is!"

"No!" yelped Rhodri. "Give't back!"

Harv hoisted the jewels higher in the air. Rhodri went back to glaring at him, a favor which Harv promptly returned.

"Give't back," repeated Rhodri, trailing off into a whine. "I w's planning on givin' it to Finnily!"

At this, Harv froze. "What?"

"You heard me!" Rhodri stomped his foot. "Now give it back!"

"Why would I do that!" cried Harv, now clutching the jewel to his chest. Since he was confident the thing was a stolen object, he didn't necessarily want to hang onto it, but he couldn't give it back to his younger brother, either—he was planning to give it to Finnily?

It was so incredibly un-Rhodri-like.

And plus, Finnily was his, as much as it embarrassed him. Their last conversation had been halting and awkward, much to the female's confusion, and Harv didn't really know how to refer to her anymore—since the conversation that had gone down nearly a week ago now—but still, his. Rhodri couldn't give her expensive, shiny jewels. That wasn't right, and it wasn't fair.

But this course of action was so uncharacteristic of Rhodri…something had to be up.

Harv gave Rhodri a suspicious look.

"You can't give this to Finnily," said Harv slowly. Then he quickly stumbled over his words and added, "It's stolen! She won't accept something that was stolen!"

Rhodri snorted, scuffed his bare heel against the long grass and then dug his toes into the soil. "You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. She's my—" He cut himself off, paused. He wasn't sure what she was anymore. "—best friend," He finished with the safest route. "I know her much better than you do."

Rhodri raised an eyebrow at Harv, not believing him, somehow. "…what was that, just now?" He asked slowly.

"N-nothing!" It was Harv's turn to deny the obvious. Thankfully, Rhodri didn't press it; instead, he took the chance of Harv being off guard to attack him and wrestle the diamond necklace away from him.

Harv put up a good fight, but in the end Rhodri pried the jewel out of his fingers and fled into the grain field, leaving Harv to glare at the waving stalks.