Johan’s home was small but clean and tidy, and he pulled out a chair at the table for Elias to sit down. Once Johan had fetched them both a drink, he dipped his chin at Elias in a way that he assumed was asking him to explain what had happened.
Elias took a large gulp of his drink and then some steadying breaths. At first, he wasn’t sure how much to say since he knew that men being with men was generally kept behind closed doors in this kingdom in contrast to the norm of it amongst the elves back home. But then he looked into Johan’s kind, warm chestnut eyes and trusted his gut. Henrik had already told him that Johan had seen them curled up together the night they’d arrived here, and he had been nothing but kind to them regardless.
“Henrik has been… more than a friend to me?” he phrased it like a question, and Johan nodded in understanding and, thankfully, without judgment, so Elias went for it. “Well, I love Henrik. I thought he was my… my forever, you know? But itseems he was with me because he thought I was the only option.” Elias hiccupped again.
Johan looked sadly at Elias and shook his head.
“It’s the truth,” he tried to explain.
“Your truth,” Johan rasped out. Elias was momentarily shocked by hearing anything at all come from the silent man’s lips that it took him a few seconds to register what he’d said.
“No.Thetruth,” Elias insisted.
“No,” Johan spoke again and wrapped his big hand over Elias’.
Somehow, Elias knew that Johan had reached his limit on words, and so he merely huffed in response. They finished their drinks in silence before Johan guided Elias over to a large mattress on the floor.
“I can sleep on the ground; it’s okay,” Elias tried to argue.
Johan just shook his head, and Elias found he was too exhausted to really put up a compelling fight. He crawled into the far corner of the bed, leaving the blanket for Johan on the other side.
Johan, however, picked up the blanket and placed it over Elias, tucking in the edges and making him feel like a cocooned caterpillar.
“Thank you,” Elias whispered.
A short while after, Elias could hear footsteps fading and the front door closing.
Why was it that Henrik could rip out Elias’ heart, crush the only thing that had kept him alive the last few years, and yet he was left to comfort himself while Johan sought out Henrik? How was that fair?
Elias almost laughed. Nothing in his life had been fair. Why would life change its mind now?
Seven
Henrik
A
tight fist closed around Henrik’s lungs, stealing his ability to breathe as he watched the door close behind Elias. Still naked and suddenly shrouded in shame, he wrapped the blanket around himself and tried to take a breath. Only, he was fairly certain that he must have been struck by a spontaneous, deadly illness because he couldn’t breathe!
Henrik’s heart began beating as if it was attempting to burst free from his chest, and his vision blurred. All concepts of time warped, leaving Henrik unsure of how long he’d gone without breathing.
He was sure he should have met his end when large, firm hands gripped his shoulders. The persistent ringing noise in his ears had drowned out the sound of approaching footsteps, but the big hands shaking him were the least of his concerns. Evidently, this deadly illness included sudden blindness as he couldn’t get his eyes to focus, and to top it off, he was no longer able to feel his legs.
Anguish held him in its clutches as he lamented over how he’d hurt his love, and he could never make things right with him because he was going to die from this; he had no doubt.
The hands persisted and cupped his face, making shushing sounds. Arms that were much too large and strong to be Elias’ wrapped around him, squeezing around his chest so tight it ought to be suffocating, but instead of making it harder to breathe, they somehow made it easier.
When the familiar scent of leather and musk broke through the haze of panic, Henrik deduced that it was Johan who was holding him and rocking him from side to side. Instead of Death coming for him, only Johan had. And Johan seemed to have some kind of connection to magic himself because as he rocked Henrik like you might a babe, he found that the fist around his lungs loosened its grip slightly, allowing him to finally fill his lungs, and as he calmed, his vision slowly came back into focus.
Eventually, Johan relaxed his arms from around Henrik. Shame and embarrassment almost threatened to send him spiralling back into panic as he absorbed what Johan had just witnessed. What he’d thought was some kind of sudden illness was clearly a ludicrous response to his argument with Elias. He shuffled away from Johan then, trying to hide within the thick wool blanket as though that would make him appear less foolish, or at the very least, protect Henrik from seeing what must be a look of judgement on the shoemaker’s face.
It wasn’t successful because Johan patted his back through the blanket until Henrik eventually gave in and poked his head out.
“Is Elias…?” was all he could get out, his voice raw from his hysterics.
Johan nodded his head and pointed up the stairs to where he lived. Henrik had assumed as much, given Elias didn’t really have anywhere else to go.
Henrik was grateful that Johan didn’t press for more. He just sat next to him on the mattress, patting his back occasionally, but his presence was like having a calm, immovable rock nearby that made all of Henrik’s fears seem a little less scary, and the judgemental expression he’d been expecting was nowhere to be found.
