No, what he was angry at was that Elias had used magic on him without his permission and incapacitated him to the point he hadn’t been able to keep Elias safe. He hadn’t trusted Johan to have his back and support him, and Johan wasn’t entirely sure what else he could do to show Elias that he was devoted to him and Henrik. That he was in this for the long haul.
How did he forgive Elias for something he probably didn’t even regret? Would his love for Elias be enough?
Johan was an expert in repairing damaged, broken shoes, but what tools did you use to repair broken trust?
With a heavy heart, Johan trudged back to the cabin, where he found Henrik sitting on the bed with Elias’ head resting in his lap.
He glanced at the mattress set aside for Johan on the other side of the room and nearly crumbled.
Henrik must be angry with him for not keeping Elias safe.
But then, Henrik had done this before they’d even returned, so Henrik must be angry with him for something else. What if Henrik had felt abandoned when they’d left him behind? Maybe Johan was supposed to have fought for Henrik to come with them, and he hadn’t realised. He’d obviously messed up somehow.
He slumped miserably onto the mattress, wondering how it had all gone so wrong so fast.
“Wake me if… anything changes?” he asked Henrik quietly.
“Of course,” Henrik replied absently, gaze remaining focused on Elias’ still form.
Johan curled up with his back to them so he could hide his face in the wool blanket.
Sleep evaded him for a while as he ruminated on everything that had taken place in the last few days. They’d had a plan, and now Elias was unconscious and Henrik didn’t want him in their bed anymore. His chest was tight and painful as panic took hold.
Johan wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and prayed that Henrik wouldn’t hear the change in his breathing as he cried silently and alone until exhaustion eventually dragged him into sleep.
T
he sun was setting when Johan woke. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, still groggy from sleep.
Rolling to face where the elves lay, he spotted Elias first, exactly as he had been earlier that morning. Unconscious but breathing. It was cold enough in the little cabin that Johan could see Elias’ tiny puffs of breath in the air and be reassured by them.
Henrik must have fallen asleep sitting up because he was slumped against the wall, a hand resting on Elias’ chest. Johan suspected that Henrik had only found sleep because of the steady heartbeat resting beneath his palm.
Johan got up and snuck out quietly to relieve himself, and when he returned, Henrik was staring at him with bleary bloodshot eyes.
“How could this have happened?” Henrik whispered.
Johan’s shoulders slumped. “Should I… leave?” he asked, staring at the floor.
“What? Why would you leave?”
“I… sh-sh-should have pr-protected him.”
Henrik snorted derisively at that. “The Queen and… and any man who believes they have the right to keep people as their property are to blame for this, Johan. And the rest of my wrath is reserved for this pig headed, stubborn elf in my lap.”
Henrik looked as though steam might begin to shoot from his ears in anger, his eyes flashing darkly in a way Johan had never seen before.
“You don’t… blame me?” he asked.
“Of course I don’t blame you,” Henrik said more softly. “He destroyed your shop, your home, Johan. You have every right to be angry with him.”
Johan swallowed the lump of emotion lodged in his throat. “Not… why.”
“That isn’t why you’re angry?” Henrik clarified.
Shaking his head Johan said, “Used magic… I couldn’t… couldn’t… reach him. He…” Johan couldn’t get the words to come out how he wanted them to, and he groaned in frustration.
“Shhh. Shhh, it’s okay. This isn’t your fault, Johan. He used magic on you, didn’t he?”
