Better than the Oil of Fermented Figs

by Engot1206

Summary:

Rolf receives a mundane visit at his farm, and offers some typical Old Country hospitality. (set around season 5/6 I guess)

It was a cloudy November Saturday morning, and Rolf was in his shed, milking his cow Beatrice. A respectable activity as any in the farm, in the absence of any distraction (especially any ruckus coming from the three Eds). He’d been happily absorbed in his activity for a while, humming traditional songs to himself, when he suddenly noticed some whistling and pricked up his ears - it came from nearby outside the shed.
He recognized the song, much to his dismay - it was a tune which had recently been playing on the local radios, and was annoying him to no end.

“Curse the wicked drilling sounds of torture! Who lollygags onto Rolf’s farm singing the song of the devil?"
He glanced at the open door frame, and just at that moment a face peered into the shed.

"'Sup, Rolf!"

“Oh hello, Kevin! A surprise visit, hm?”

His softening expression put Kevin more at ease as he moved into the frame, hands in pockets. He shrugged.

“I guess.”

Rolf examined him curiously.

“...What?”

“You do not look very colored today... hmmm, let Rolf guess, a tricky business happened, yes? Ho-ho, are the Ed-boys making circus noise again?”

“Nah... I dunno, I’m just feelin’ kinda off. Whatever.”
He was feeling the cold air more than usual, but he brushed it off and finally walked inside, pointing a finger at Rolf.
“And don’t jinx it by mentioning the dorks, got it?”

Rolf smirked - he could never keep a straight face watching the jock’s mannerisms, especially when he was pulling stunts to impress Nazz. Spending time with him was worthwile just for the entertainment alone.

"Kevin-boy is not steaming from the ears, yes? Then Rolf is content!” He turned back on his stool to focus on his task.
“So... what brings you to Rolf’s farm?”, he asked off-handedly.

Kevin kicked at the ground. “Just bored.”

“Hah!” Rolf scoffed. “You have nothing to do? Then do as Rolf’s papa says...”
He turned again towards Kevin’s puzzled face.
“Open and close the door until it sweats!”

His hearty laugh was met with an unamused frown.

“Ahh... almighty-chin-faced Kevin likes to stand and pout, yes? Well..."
He nodded at the placid cow standing next to him.
“Care to join Rolf in his humble milk-work? Or is your backside made of lead?”

Kevin looked at the large animal and slouched, groaning.
"Man... do I have to?”

“Would you like to eat burst corn seeds and watch Rolf toil, mmm? Perhaps judge his labor-”

“Alright, alright..." he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Come, then! The sun eats the hours!" Rolf whined, pointing at an imaginary watch on his wrist as the visitor trudged over to him.
“You must work to earn the food! Don’t do like the man who stands under the fig tree and says ‘fig, fall into my mouth!’”

“Ugh, I don’t wanna hear about figs..."

The jock was thankful it wasn’t a heavy job – he felt strangely tired, as if he’d ridden his bike too much. It would have been normal if Rolf had roped him into a hard day’s work on his farm (much to his chagrin), but he hadn’t done much so far in the morning, and yet he could hardly bend to lift a milk churn.

A few minutes passed before Rolf finally looked over to check on him - the farmer boy shook his head, unimpressed.
“Tsk-tsk-tsk! Are you tired?”

“I’m not! Hmph, I’m trying, dude-whoa!”
He suddenly tripped over a shovel lying on the ground, falling on his butt in a way so embarrassing and clownish it made Rolf cackle.

“Kevin-boy cannot even stand on his feet!”

“Stupid shovel..."

“The only silly shovel here is your noggin, slippery-foot-Kevin-boy! Does baby have boo-boo?” He sneered.

“I’m fine..." Grumbling like an idling engine, he managed to get back up to his feet, when he suddenly saw stars. He grasped at his surroundings in a blind daze until he stumbled against the wall.

“What are you doing? Are you losing your roof tiles?”

Kevin felt nausea build up inside of him as Rolf approached with a puzzled expression.

“Why do you droop and sag like Rolf’s nana?”

“Dude... something’s up."

Rolf’s eyes widened in worry.
“Your face is turning the color of cabbage, Kevin!”

“My head’s s-spinning... oh man, I think I’m gonna..."
He dashed to the nearest bucket he could find and dropped to his knees.

"BLEEEAAARRRGH!!!"

Rolf gasped in fright and uttered something in his native language before running to his aid.
He recoiled and had to plug his nose while the sick boy coughed and hacked into the tin.

"A-are you okay?"

“Ech... what does it look like?”

Rolf rubbed his neck and chuckled sheepishly, reassured by the jock's typical gruffness.
“It is a good thing the bucket was empty, or we would have a caffe latte, yes? With oats, hoho!”

“Sounds delicious,” he snarked, almost retching again before Rolf helped him up on his unsteady feet and led him to the water trough - he would have refused to drink from it, if his throat wasn't in desperate need of clean water.

“Refresh yourself, Kevin!”

“This is great...", he mumbled, “I’m feelin’ like one of your animals now..."

“Hmm?” Rolf scratched his chin.
"What animal are you speaking of?"

"I don’t know. Just sayin'."

"Rolf thinks you are... a duck!” He giggled. “He-who-walks-like-a-duck-Kevin-boy!”

“What do you- oof..."

His knees trembled a little and Rolf kept an arm around him for support before placing a hand on his forehead, imitating his own mother’s precautions when he was ill. He frowned in concern.
“Oh no, Kevin, y-you are not sane!”

“Hey, speak for yours- whoa!”

Rolf threw an arm around his chest, lifted him up effortlessly and rushed into the house to the sound of moans and complaints.
Once they finally reached the living room, Kevin was unceremoniously plopped onto the couch, and before he could even settle Rolf grabbed his ankles and abruptly removed his shoes.

“What the... aw, man, ya kidding? Do I have to stay here-” He was pushed back down onto the couch.

“Do not protest when you are Rolf’s guest!” The farmer boy placed the shoes on the floor.
“It is good we have stopped toiling, for Rolf is overcome by hunger! Rejoice, Kevin..."
He reached into a nearby basket and pulled out a big, thick blanket before leaning closer with a smile.
“We will nourish ourselves with a good meal, yes?”

“But... I just threw up.“

“Oh-oh, don’t be a fool, Kevin!" He squeaked in surprise when Rolf reached to rub his belly.

“The vile scum you spit out was the sickness, yes? Now you are finally free, but you must refill!”

A faint growl broke the silence.

“See? The stomach does not lie!”
Beaming, he patted the bewildered boy on the chest before covering him with the blanket.

“Gee, Mom, I could have done that myself. And warn me when you hit me like that-”

“Hush, hard-pumpkin-Kevin-boy! The son of a shepherd is proud to be the master of the house!" He rubbed his hands with enthusiasm. "Rolf shall heat up some of Mama's remaining soup, yes?”

“O-okay... brrr..." As Rolf walked away, a shiver ran through him and he curled up beneath the cover.

Not having anything to do but wait, he took in his surroundings and his eyes landed on the lonely item sitting on the coffee table, which he recognized as a snowglobe. He shifted his aching joints to reach over and grab it, before settling back under the blanket, sticking his arms out just enough so that he could examine it.
The bulb contained a little figure of a sheep on a patch of grass, but whoever made the knick-knack seemed to have run out of fake snow. Instead, the grainy powder had an odd gray color. It looked like...

“Here comes the hot nectar of the gods!”

Rolf walked back into the living room, carrying a wooden bed-tray - the trail of steam was a comforting sight that made Kevin smile as he peered out from under the cover.

“Aw, m-man, you sure know how to treat guests.”

Reaching his bedridden friend, Rolf gently placed the tray in front of him - just as he had promised, there was a bowl containing some kind of soup, along with a chunk of crusty bread and a glass containing a familiar purple liquid – he wasn’t crazy for Rolf's home-made beverage, but it was better than water.

“A good cup of geshlurdosdt is always welcome, yes?”

“Gesh... what’s it called again?”

“Gesh-lur-dosdt! A fine drink from the cellar! Ah, yes..." He reached over and grabbed the snowglobe from Kevin’s hand.
“Rolf forgot this. Does Kevin-boy like the Great Nano urn?”

“Huh?”

“My Great Nano was a proud shepherd, and his ashes still protect the land!” He moved to the fireplace and shook the globe before placing it on the mantelpiece, letting the not-snow fall once again.

Kevin blanched as realization struck him.
“Huh, that’s... cool.”
With one hand wrapped around the bowl for warmth, he grabbed the spoon, puzzled by the presence of a knife.

“The knife is for the stew, yes?”

Kevin looked at Rolf, then back at the bowl, still confused. When he dunked the spoon into the dense liquid, he felt something more solid and decided to stick the knife in, trying to get a good look at what it was. A tentacle... an octopus... a squid? What the hell is that?
He felt like gagging again, glad that Rolf was looking away for a moment. Unfortunately, the 'master of the house' decided to sit on the coffee table – he was going to wait for him to eat.

“What does not kill you makes you fat, Kevin!”

He looked back down at the bowl, not convinced by Rolf’s words.
He tentatively cut off a chunk and pulled it out with a spoonful of soup, examining it with suspicion. Knowing Rolf, he didn't look forward to enraging him by not eating, and now the farmer boy was just staring at him with an uncertain expression.

Kevin glared back at him. “What are ya staring at? Ya gonna watch me eat?"

Rolf’s hurt frown immediately made him regret his manners.

“Why don’t you eat? Must Rolf make the airplane like with babies?"

"Whu-" He froze as Rolf grabbed his hand and simply shoved the spoon into his mouth. He was left to taste the solid and liquid concoction, slowly munching on the meat until he realized it wasn’t that different from an ordinary stew, and he found the soup itself was actually really good. He couldn't help but hum in approval, and a toothy grin spread on Rolf's face.

“It warms the soul, no? Mama was always a renowned cook in the old village!”
He cheerfully scooped some more soup and fed the sick boy - it wasn't until the spoon was in his mouth that Kevin realized what he was doing. His eyes went wide and he swallowed loudly.

“D-dude, I can handle myself!”, he sputtered, getting hold of the spoon.
Grouching, he continued eating on his own, staring at the contents of the bowl to hide his reddening face. He dared to lift his head after a few more scoops, only to see Rolf smirking smugly.

“Stop lookin' at me like that!”

“You wear an angry mask, but it is clear to Rolf that you yield to the delight of the soup, yes?”

Kevin grunted. “I’m just hungry as hell.”

“See? Like Rolf said, your stomach is empty. Let the son of a shepherd join your meal!”

He stood up and jogged to the kitchen, coming back immediately with his own tray before sitting at the other end of the couch. His slurping could be heard clearly in the awkward silence.

“Soooo, are we gonna... watch TV, or something?”

Rolf’s eyes fell.
“No ‘tee-vee’, Kevin. The distant-seeing screen has broken. The cursed electric box!” He shook his fist in the air.
“But Rolf’s papa promised he will soon spend the bread for a new one! Perhaps a greater device, like the one Kevin-boy has, yes?”

“Choice!”

“Do not worry, friend Kevin. Rolf does not like twiddling of thumbs either, so... let the son of a shepherd tell you tales of the old days, yes?”

Kevin thought about it for a moment.
“Whatever... s’not like I got anything better to do.”

“Ahhhh... let Rolf remember..."
He leaned back, eyes closed in recollection as he stirred his soup.
“There was a large tavern by the river, yes..."

It was exciting to have someone he could talk to about the times before his family had decided to cross the seas. His joyful tales regarding his land featured plenty of humorous anecdotes, which tore lots of laughter out of Kevin, and Rolf’s sheer hunger made him power through his bowl of soup, while Kevin himself trailed behind, enraptured by his stories. Eventually, Rolf brought his tray back to the kitchen while continuing his happy rambling but, after washing the dish, he returned to the living room to find Kevin had fallen asleep.

His heart sank in disappointment - how long had he been talking to himself? He felt yet another pang of loneliness, and once more he couldn’t help but miss his old home terribly.
He often pondered on his Nana’s wise words as they took on their journey – about the paths of life, the forks in the road, and the people you meet along the way. Back when he was first settling into his new surroundings, a strange new feeling slowly entered his life - some kind of heartache that appeared sometimes, at bedtime, when all he could do was lay awake in his room and rub his watery eyes.
How he wished he could share his burden with someone... Kevin probably wouldn't be the best confidant - he always seemed aloof and even callous when it came to matters of feelings. Rolf tried to reassure himself - there could always be another time. Perhaps the Ed with a sock-hat could lend a good ear, or maybe even Nazz.

Rolf’s gloom immediately vanished when he moved closer to Kevin and noticed he hadn’t simply finished the soup, but also wiped the bowl clean with the bread.
A surge of newfound happiness filled Rolf - in his homeland, this amount of appreciation from a guest was a great source of pride. He reminded himself to tell his mother later as he kept staring at his friend - he was surprised to find him an unexpectedly endearing sight, sleeping so peacefully and with a tiny hint of a smile on his face. It made Rolf wonder if he was dreaming of something.
Careful not to wake him up him, he leaned closer and gently lifted the tray up. Kevin’s only reaction was to snuggle up under the blanket and mumble in his slumber.

“Hmph... Rulfh...", he yawned.
“Yer muh... buhrst fruhnd..."

Rolf's mouth curled into a smile of his own, and he bent down to peck Kevin on the forehead.
"Golden dreams”, he whispered, chuckling under his breath.
Glancing at the low winter sun shining through the windows, it suddenly occurred to him how easily he’d made friends with the neighbors here, and how fun they were to be around, too.
Before leaving with the tray, he noticed Kevin’s hat had fallen on the ground and he picked it up, placing it onto his head with glee before walking away to the kitchen, merrily whistling a tune he'd been hearing a lot from Nazz’s ‘wonder-of-no-cables radio’ - the music of this modern go-go world wasn't that bad, he figured...

Well, some of it.