by Megan Derr
A tingling warmth started in his chest, where Rohese's hands rested, then began to spread until the whole of his body felt it. It eased just as gradually, seeming to recede back to the very starting point, until he felt only a flush much like that which came after a bit of light labor. As it faded entirely, he realized most of his pain had faded away with it.
He looked at Rohese, aching to touch him, knowing he could not. "You did not have to do that, but I appreciate it."
"I want to," Rohese said softly. "Somehow—" He grimaced, shrugged and looked away, hands sliding slowly from Alcor's chest.
Alcor missed the feel of them already and called himself a thousand kinds of fool. "Somehow what?"
Rohese shrugged again, looking embarrassed. "It probably sounds stupid, but—well, you remind me of what I thought someone else to be, and which he wasn't. That doesn't even make sense, does it?"
"Yes, it does," Alcor said firmly, barely hiding a wince. Really, if it did not hurt so much, he would find this all amusing. "You thought someone you knew was something that he turned out not to be."
"Precisely," Rohese said, smiling. "You are what he was not."
"I see," Alcor said softly, not certain what else to say. "I sense you give me entirely too much credit."
"Not at all."
Shaking his head, Alcor motioned to the door. "Shall we have breakfast?"
Rohese smiled in amusement, but nodded and followed easily as they made their way back along the path Alcor had carved out, snow high on either side of them. It would likely be days before it was possible for Rohese to travel home again. Alcor felt awful that the thought pleased him.
Back inside, he made more tea and then set to work on porridge, pleased to see that there was honey and sugar among the things Rohese had brought. When it was ready, he served it up and sat down across from Rohese with a cup of tea.
"I do not know how you are still alive, if that is all you ever eat," Rohese said with a frown. Alcor shrugged and waved the matter aside. Rohese frowned at him a moment longer, then sighed softly and began to eat. "You are a fine cook," he said after a moment, "so it seems rather silly not to enjoy it."
"I manage," Alcor said, almost smiling. "I promise you, I will not die of hunger any time soon."
"All the same," Rohese said, but the rest of his words were drowned out by the sudden howling of the wind. He sighed and stood up to go glance out the kitchen window. "It looks as though I shall have to impose upon your kind hospitality for a few days." He laughed and shook his head, looking over his shoulder at Alcor. "I came only to thank you for the roses, I swear it."
"I do not mind," Alcor said quietly. He shrugged and took a sip of tea. "I seldom get company, as you already know. A new, friendly face is always appreciated."
"Well, now that I know you are here and do not mind it, I shall come and visit when I'm able," Rohese said and returned to his breakfast. "For now, however, I am afraid I do not know what to do with myself. I was never very good at being kept inside. My parents knew the best way to punish me was to lock me indoors." He smiled ruefully and held up his hand, displaying the beautiful ring that Alcor remembered from when they had first met. "I borrowed this ring one day from my mother. Nearly lost it…" Sadness flickered briefly across his face, but he went on. "After someone helped me get it back, I ran home. They did not let me out of the house for an entire month. I vow it was the longest month of my life."
Alcor laughed. "I was always beaten when discipline was wanting. Locking me up would not have accomplished much; as a child I mostly preferred the indoors anyway."
Rohese smiled. "My parents were never fond of beatings, though I think I made them consider it strongly a few times. I was not a very well-behaved child."
"I doubt that," Alcor replied. "Truly monstrous children wind up like me; you seem to have turned out quite well."
The cheeks flushed with pleasure, and Rohese ducked his head. "Well, thank you, especially since my family is often given to thieving."
"My garden will not notice the loss of a rose or six," Alcor said dryly. "Indeed, knowing my strange garden, it has already grown them back. Shall you spend the day reading? You expressed interest in my books."
Rohese nodded, finishing his porridge, and carried the dishes to the wash basin. "I admit I'm more curious about the house itself. It's beautiful. I think I would feel completely at a loss with so much space to myself."
"I seldom use more than the kitchen, the study, and my own room," Alcor agree with a nod. "It is a bit much for one person, but the location suits me. I admit I have not explored the place much," he continued thoughtfully, not adding he had no need to explore it. "You are welcome to do so, certainly. I have some paperwork to address, and then shall I come find you?"
"Are you certain?" Rohese asked.
"I would not offer otherwise," Alcor said.
"Very well, then," Rohese said, beaming. "I will take myself out of your way, then." With that, he indeed departed, and Alcor listened until his footsteps faded.
He moved to clean the dishes and get started on a soup, which would take the entire day to make. By the time he was finished in the kitchen, he was nearly ready for a nap, but he did not want to skew his sleeping patterns more than he already had.
Instead, he went to the study and tended to his finances for as long as he was able, until he began to nod off by holding still for too long. Putting his things away, he debated on what rooms to clean, but decided not to bother and gave in to the long-fought temptation to find Rohese and see what he was about.
Finding Rohese was not hard. The door to the attic was wide open, and he could hear shuffling and muffled banging simply standing at the foot of the attic stairs. Climbing up them, he fought a sneeze brought on by the dust, but finally lost the battle as he reached the head of the stairs.
Rohese looked up at the noise and smiled sheepishly. "My lord. There is quite the accumulation of stuff here."
"Quite," Alcor said, looking around. Rohese had lit several lamps, and thin sunlight slipped through the windows and crack here and there, giving the long, wide attic a sort of dreamlike appearance. "I had no idea so much junk was up here." He nudged a nearby trunk with his foot, wondering what in the world it could contain. Why would his parents keep so much stuff? It would have been better to get rid of it, give it away—
He knelt and fumbled briefly with the old latch, but finally managed to throw the lid back. The smell of dust and old fabric, the pungent scent of herbs used to keep away moths, washed over him. He coughed briefly then began to go through the contents, curious despite himself.
Old fashioned clothing for a gentlemen. In fact—yes, he recognized the puce jacket as one his grandfather had worn in an old portrait. Fancy that. But why would his parents see such things were kept?
Perhaps he was giving his parents too much credit. Likely, they had simply ordered the stuff packed up and put away and promptly forgot about it thereafter. He looked in amusement over the lavish clothes worn in generations past, grateful that such extremes of lace and pattern and ornament were currently de trope. Not that he had to worry about such things any longer.
Rohese abruptly started laughing, and Alcor looked up—and laughed himself.
"Why do I keep opening up things to find gowns?" Rohese asked, shaking his head as he held up a gown of dark crimson trimmed in touches of black and gold. "I admit that because of my sisters, I know a great deal about women's clothing, but I have never been inclined to wear it."
Alcor chuckled. "Oh, now, with the proper stays I am certain we could get you into one, and the crimson would look lovely, though the gold of last night suited better."
"Ha ha," Rohese said and stuffed the dress back into the trunk, closing it with a resounding bang before moving on to another. A garbled, choked sound caused Alcor to abandon his own trunk and go see what had Rohese gawking like a fish.
He whistled when he saw. "My, oh, my, who could have forgotten such things were up here?" He pick
ed up one of the leather cases Rohese had opened, staring at the costly jewelry within. Surely they must be paste… but no, he knew the look of real jewels versus fake, and these were real enough. They must have belonged to his grandparents, or even further back, but they were beautiful. A choker of rubies and diamonds, another of sapphires, still more of emeralds, pearls, more diamonds, and one whole case contained nothing but cufflinks and cravat pins, nearly as costly as the necklaces. More still contained broaches, hat pins, bracelets, watch fobs…
There must have been a fortune of jewels in the trunk. How in the hells had his parents forgotten of their existence? Alcor realized he would never know. Anyone who could have told him was either long dead or had forgotten his family's existence.
"I cannot believe—" Rohese shook his head and reached out to lightly touch one of the emeralds.
"Nor I," Alcor said. An idea suddenly occurred to him, but he did not speak of it, knowing Rohese would refuse. Now he was torn. He wanted the snow to linger so that he had Rohese a little longer, but once it cleared, he could put the ridiculous amounts of costly jewels to use. "I shall have to put them to proper use, later." He smiled and closed the trunk, then rose. "Shall we continue to explore? Or shall we break for a bit of tea?"
Rohese shook himself and glanced away from the trunk, finally standing alongside Alcor. "Um—tea, I suppose. I think I have pawed through your belongings long enough, hmm?"
"They are not mine," Alcor said dismissively. "Though, certainly I will see something is done with all of this, now I know it is here. Strange that I never thought to look through the attic before. I always assumed it was empty or filled only with old furniture."
He led the way back down the stairs and to the kitchen, fixing tea for both of them, working upon his soup while Rohese sat at the table.
"That smells very good already," Rohese said. "You really are a fair hand in the kitchen, my lord."
Alcor lifted one shoulder in dismissal. "It would be better if I could make the bread to go with it, but I am afraid that would only be a waste of foodstuffs."
"It's lucky I brought bread then, hmm?" Rohese said and poured more tea. "What shall we do the rest of the day, my lord? I did warn you I am not good at being indoors."
"I believe we will manage," Alcor said, shaking his head in amusement. "Do you play cards?"
Rohese's eyes narrowed in thought. "I know one or two games moderately well. They try to get me to play them at the tavern from time to time." He grimaced.
Alcor recalled the image he had seen, the one time he had used his mirror to gaze upon Rohese, the way someone had slung an arm around Rohese's shoulder and said something to make him turn bright red. He turned toward his soup to hide a scowl. "Well, I know a great many more than one or two, but have had no one to play. If you are inclined, I can teach you. It will pass the time."
"By all means," Rohese said and followed him through the house and back to Alcor's study.
The cards were in the desk, right where he had put them after cleaning and reorganizing the desk. They were a well used set, but that was all to the good. Building up the fire, he pulled the chairs and table closer together.
They settled in, and Alcor began to teach Rohese a few of the card games he knew, playing each one a time or two before moving on to the next, until they at last settled on one of which they were both fond.
He finally stopped at the end of what must have been the tenth hand, give or take, as the clock was striking the fifth hour. Setting the cards aside, he excused himself to go check on his soup. The kitchen was fragrant with the smell of it, and Alcor smiled, pleased. Moving to his racks of spices, he selected several and stirred them into the soup, taking a small sip of the broth to ensure it pleased.
Perfect. He was even almost tempted to try a bowl of it come supper time.
Leaving the stew to simmer, he put together a late midday meal and carried it back to the study. Rohese had pulled a book from the shelves and was thoroughly immersed in it. A quick glance showed him to be reading an historical book, one of Alcor's favorites, in fact. "I would have thought you would know all there was to know about the faerie, unless I presume? You look as though you possess faerie blood."
Rohese looked up with a start then motioned dismissively with one hand. "You are correct and do not presume. I am half bright faerie on my mother's side. I do not know much about faerie, actually. I'm quite magically adept—sort of necessary, in the art of healing—but given how tense people are about faeries, even bright…" He shrugged. "My parents chose to deal very little with it, though I think sometimes my mother wished to teach us more."
"Well, I cannot say I like dark faeries much," Alcor said, managing only with great effort to keep his voice even, "but I would not hold them against you."
"I saw a dark faerie once," Rohese said quietly, not looking up. "I—went to see someone—and he was there, and I wondered why, but I was too afraid to approach him. I wonder sometimes—" He shook his head, and with an obvious effort, banished the sadness from his face. "Anyway, I know very little of my mother's people. Only what was necessary for me to master magic."
Alcor nodded. "Well, it's a fascinating history, and that is a good book with which to begin. I have others; you are welcome to take them with you when you are finally able to escape the lair of the beast."
Rohese nodded. "Indeed. I would describe many a patient's home as such, but not your fine company, my lord."
If the situation were not so ridiculous, Alcor thought he might cry. "You are the first to say so," he managed to say lightly. "Eat, enjoy the books, I think I shall read one of my own."
"Thank you for the food," Rohese said and obediently went back to reading.
Alcor perused his shelves and at last chose an astrology book he had meant to give a second read, settling into his own chair and surrendering his attention to the neatly printed pages.
It was only a growing chill that finally drew him from his book, and he got up to throw another log on the fire, bringing it back to life. Then he turned to see how Rohese was fairing, realizing from a glance out the window that it had long grown dark and he should have gotten dinner some time ago.
Rohese, however, was fast asleep in his chair. Alcor's mouth twitched, wondering what kind of host he was that his guest kept dropping off. Smiling openly, he moved to Rohese and carefully withdrew the book, shelving it before pulling a throw from a chest beneath the window and gently tucking it around Rohese.
Then he went to see to his soup.
It was, he acknowledged with a sigh, far too nice to have company again, someone who laughed and smiled, who was willing to help, to play cards, and even someone with whom he could simply sit and read for hours. Even Meir had not been capable of holding still for very long, never mind to read for hours at a time.
He smiled briefly, thinking of Meir, and tried a sip of the soup broth, murmuring satisfaction at the final flavor. When Rohese awoke, there would be a fine meal awaiting him. Leaving the kitchen, Alcor pulled on a cloak and whistled for Mutt, who came eagerly.
Petting Mutt, he stepped outside into the moonlit snow. A proper walk was impossible, but he could enjoy the cold air, walk along the path he had cleared from house to stable. Here and there, even, his roses poked through the wall of snow on either side of his little path. He dug into the snow, heedless of the cold seeping into his fingers, finally prying enough of it away that he was able to pick one of the roses.
Even in the cold and buried by the snow, it smelled like a sun-soaked rose of summer. Alcor smiled faintly and bent his head back to stare at the sky, picking out the constellations he had relearned bit by bit with help from the books in his library.
Mutt moved back and forth along the path, occasionally thrusting his nose into the snow as if in hopes of finding something of interest, occasionally throwing a bark or growl or playful whine back at Alcor. Chuckling, Alcor whistled for him, and petted him until Mutt calmed a bit.
The sound of boots on s
tone drew him, and he turned to see Rohese standing on the front stoop, framed by the hallway light spilling out behind him. He still clung sleepily to the throw, obviously not having thought to put it down.
Alcor smiled and resisted an urge to go to him, because if he did he would do something he could not, should not do. He was a beast and needed to remember that, even if warm, sleepy smiles made it easy to forget everything. "Good evening, healer."
"Good evening, my lord," Rohese said. "I am sorry to have fallen asleep on you. Your home and company are fine enough I doze off as though at home."
"That makes good hearing," Alcor replied. "Supper is ready, if you would like to eat. You should not be out in the cold, anyway."
Rohese laughed, but obediently went inside, leading the way to the kitchen and making all sorts of pleased noises upon discovery of the finished soup. "Honestly, my lord, if you continue to cook this well, you may have trouble getting rid of me."
"I'm sure I would bear up under the terrible strain of your company," Alcor drawled, making Rohese smile. He wondered when he had become fond of torturing himself.
"Are you going to eat my lord? The broth, at least, you should attempt."
Alcor sighed. "If it will please you, I shall attempt the broth, but do not ask more than that." Rohese beamed and dished it all up himself, and he looked so damned happy about something so silly that Alcor suspected he might have even tried real, solid food if Rohese had pushed it one more time.
The broth was good, as he well knew, and he sighed quietly to himself when it settled on his stomach as easily as the tea. It would seem he was back to where he had been when had Meir died. Swallowing, he finished the last few sips of broth and returned to his tea, content to watch in a comfortable silence as Rohese polished off his own food.
*~*~*
