Bit of a feels break, since I'm failing to write anything else at the moment. It's kind of weird to section it off so many times, but it won't let me do it any other way. Rated T because I'm a bit paranoid, it's nothing all that bad. As always, enjoy.


In this world, there was once, and still may be, a beautiful creature that traveled throughout the wilderness of Europe. The creature had seen much. He watched many animals live their lives as nature intended, observed the seasonal cycle of life that the plants followed through, and watched a very peculiar species thrive. This creature found that humans were the most remarkable and interesting organisms that made up this wondrous planet. He noticed that these things didn't follow patterns as well as the other creatures did. They changed their societies quickly and efficiently, and thus one change could affect the different groups of humans that lived across Europe, and he found it extraordinary. He loved these humans, and though their good times had been matched with equal bad, he took on the form of a human to represent his love.

Now, despite watching these people live their lives, the creature was incredibly lonely. People had seen him before, and people believed in things like him, but they would be unable to see him again, he was frightened away, or he had to leave before he could really make a bond with them. He wasn't sure what he was to do. He loved the people, yet his spirit begged for him to wander more and more to places he had visited before, to see how much the places he saw had changed over time. There just wasn't something that would root him down. Keep him in place somewhere. So, he just had to keep walking and wandering - hoping that one day something would come along and show him that he wasn't just some immortal spirit destined to walk forever. Something that could make him happier than traveling.

Many, many years had passed...


It was now a time where streets starting were made of pavement, cities were being created, and the migrations of people who wanted to leave Europe to go to America had finally come to a close. At least, in Europe, most people wanted to stay put in their homelands. The creature was still around, and he still loved looking at the people that made up this newer, ever-changing, world. On this particular day, he was hidden in some trees near a park, watching as mothers and fathers pushed young children on swing sets, and reclined on benches while the little ones chased one another around. It was a sight that filled him with both happiness and loneliness. He had never known what those cute kids had known, he wanted to be a part of it too.

Everything as was normal, until he felt part of his clothes being tugged on by something. He turned to see a small child standing behind him, looking up at him expectantly. A human child. The creature had seen many humans before in his incredibly long life, yet, he couldn't recall ever seeing someone as remarkable in appearance as this child. Kneeling down, he observed the child more closely. He had sandy golden blonde hair, big green eyes, and he had never seen eyebrows so thick and dark as the ones the lad sported - especially not on a little one to say the least.

The creature, who appeared to be a mere human, spoke gently, "Have you run off from your family?" His voice had followed several accents, considering he traveled around a lot, but the boy could hear distinctly a french accent within the words.

The boy shrugged, "I'll go back before they notice," switching the subject off from himself, he asked, "Why are you hiding back here?"

He was amused, "I'm not hiding, I'm watching."

"Why are you watching from back here then? Do you want to play?"

"I would love to play," the creature's smile faded off of his face, "but I can't."

"Why not? Just because you're different doesn't mean that you can't play."

Different? The creature looked at this boy with curiosity, "You can tell that I'm different?"

"Yeah, you're...um, I don't know...you look kinda magical?"

"Magical," it was more of a statement than a question.

"Mhmm, you kinda remind me of the creatures and stuff in those fairy tale books."

"Oh, I see. Well, I suppose that's what you could call me."

"Are you like a guardian creature? Where you watch over people?"

The creature looked sad, "Not really...I wish I could be, though."

"Why can't you be?"

"Because I can't make friends with people, I always end up leaving before I can make a friend."

"I want to be your friend."

That warmed his heart up, "I'm happy to hear you say that, but I'm afraid that I may have to leave before we can become friends, and you'd forget about me." It wasn't as if he could help his nature to continue traveling around. His spirit envied that of a gypsy traveler.

"I wouldn't forget you."

"Really?"

"Really," the boy then asked, "If you keep traveling, where is your home?"

"I don't have a home."

"No home?" the boy looked surprised, "Then you should live with me, at my home!"

Astonished, the creature felt incredibly happy, no one had ever had a conversation like this with him before. No one had ever offered for his company, for him to stay. Those who spoke to him were more interested in wondering what exactly he was, and why he lived for so long. No one had asked him anything about becoming friends, not before this child. And, although the creature knew about the possible dangers about going home with a child, considering that a child wouldn't be aware of such consequences, he decided that he was too happy to care about any of that. He smiled, "You have such a kind heart. Of course I will," he then said to the child, holding a finger up to his lips, "but you can't tell your family about me, okay?"

The boy nodded, "I won't tell. My brothers would get jealous if they knew."

That wasn't his concern actually, but it would do to keep him quiet, "I will travel to your home through the forest, and make my home in the woods, past the copse."

"But how will I know where to look?"

"I won't be far inside, and you'll know me when you see me, tres bien?"

And thus his life with the boy began.


Every time the boy wanted to see him, he would run into the woods past the copse on a hill, and head down the sunlit path to a clearing in the wood. The trees around would drop either flowers and leaves alike, but one tree stood out from the rest in the grove. It was a large beech tree that grew in the center, and there were climbing roses that coiled around the trunk. When the boy first went to find him, he could tell that he had found his friend once he saw the tree, and realized the friend he had made was likely some male version of a nymph. The tree had begun to shrink down, and take on the shape on the human-like figure that the boy recognized, hiding the true form behind skin, eyes, and hair. From there, the two would talk or play or do whatever the boy wanted to do.

On their first day, the creature had quickly learned that the boy was called "Arthur". He really liked the name, it sounded like a name fit for an intuitive and intelligent person. When asked in return what he was called, the creature simply said, "I don't have a name. I never bothered to think of one, and no one ever gave one to me."

"Is there something you'd like to be called?" Arthur asked, the boy curling up with his nymph, yet human-like, friend against the base of a sturdy tree.

"I don't know," the creature sighed aimlessly, but quickly thought of another idea, "Why don't you could give me a name, instead?"

Arthur was keen on the idea, but had to think over names to compliment his new friend perfectly. It had taken him awhile before he finally settled on one and told it to him: "Francis."

The creature tried it out on his tongue, "Fran...cis. Francis...Francis," he smiled appreciatively, "I like it, merci Arthur."

"You're welcome," the boy said, snuggling closer to his friend and whispered, "Francis, will you promise that you'll never leave me?"

"I will never leave you Arthur, I have no need to go anywhere else."

"Thank you," and with a short hushed reply of, "I love you," the boy fell into the depths of sleep beside the immortal, comfortable in his warm embrace.

And with that, Francis was happy.


For several years, Francis and Arthur would play together almost every day. Life was sweet and happy within those long afternoons. They would play games, talk to one another, and simply enjoy one another's company. However, unlike Francis, time had an effect on the mortal Arthur - and he was growing. Francis would always wish him a happy birthday every time Arthur grew another year older, but it took a couple years to go by to really see what was happening to his little friend. As years went by, he began to get not so little anymore, and he was changing. Their conversations became different.

He talked about how his parents were moving away to a larger manor, his brothers were as well - in order to run companies that they had specialized in, his lessons, and ladies and men alike who had caught his attention. Even so, Arthur continued to come back every few days to his tranquil grove where he knew that Francis would always be.

He still wasn't big enough to match Francis's human height, but he was catching up as the years went on and on. Francis took that as a good thing, that he would be able to share his love more equally with Arthur from now on, where cuddling would be more proportional and warmer perhaps on his end. Arthur, on the other hand, didn't take it in the same light. The taller and more knowledgable he got, the more he felt that Francis was becoming less and less magical to him. When he was a child, he felt that the human-like nymph was larger than life and beyond comprehension. But Arthur was wiser now, and he grew less interested in sitting and talking to a tree whose stories had been run through at least twice by now. But, that didn't mean that he didn't still love him.

Arthur relied on Francis for comfort, and to listen to his plights. Francis would always listen and soothe him of his worries after the long hours of hearing of problems. Whatever advice he could think of, considering that a creature like him had less experience in these kind of problems, he would tell him and it all appeared to be okay in the end. Arthur even would fall asleep with him on occasion, like frequently did when he was a child.

Francis still cherished their time, even though Arthur didn't come as much as he used to anymore, and that he still sought comfort from him. If Arthur wanted something from him, he would give it to him, no questions asked. He would do so, because Arthur was the first one to ever say that he loved him.

And with that, Francis was happy.


Likewise, years continued to pass on, and Arthur was turning into a dashing young man. He had matched Francis's height by now, though it was likely that he wouldn't be getting any taller. He had grown more serious, and didn't much prefer to play anymore. Talking was another matter in itself, but he would often only be around long enough to talk about his life, as opposed to asking how Francis was feeling in return.

Francis didn't mind though, he was just glad to see that Arthur would visit him in the grove every so often. In truth, as the years went by, the number of times Arthur would visit grew less and less. He claimed to be busy, which was more or less true, considering that the last of his elder brothers had just left the house, leaving it for Arthur to take care of. His newfound responsibilities prevented him from visiting his old nymph friend whenever he wanted, but over time...he was growing less regretful of leaving his friend out in the lonely wind.

Oddly enough, one day Arthur peered through the windowsill to see that large beech tree - it was large enough to be seen above the other trees - and felt somewhat lonely and sad. He remembered his early years of playing with his strange friend, whom he loved so dearly, and thought that something needed to change.

Making the trip through the flowering meadow towards the little copse on the hill, he went into the woods once again. Following the sunlit path, more clearly defined now because of how many times he traveled down it to visit Francis. He looked to the pale rocks that lined the pathway, he and Francis had done that whenever he was eight. He also looked up to organized arranging of the branches above his head, how they interweaved and made it seem like a tunnel through the trees. They did that whenever he was ten. He could remember handing ties to Francis as he climbed up the trees, thinking how tall the trees were to his small height (now it wasn't as tall to him), and how when he tried to tie off a couple branches, he fell out of the tree he was in and Francis held him in his arms for the rest of the afternoon. He also looked over to the leaf ropes that followed the path, and couldn't hold back a smile at remembering making them with Francis when he was nine. The memories were as sweet as honey, but he couldn't live them again - he was getting to be too old to want to play and invent make-believe things anymore.

This is why he had to talk to him, present his idea forward.

When he came to the clearing, with a flat blanket of leaves pressed to the forest ground, he looked up to see the large beech tree ever present in the same spot. The roses appeared to be wilting, due to the season likely, but they still struggled to cling to life in the cold soil. The bark of the tree wasn't as pure and sleek gray as it once had been, brown and green unsightly spots were starting to dot the tree, but it was taken as insignificant through his eyes. Instead, he called out to the tree, "Francis, I need to talk to you."

Almost immediately, the beech tree began to shrink down, taking on Francis's human shape. Arthur had clearly grown familiar to his long heart-shaped face, long pale blonde locks, scruffy beard, and bright periwinkle blue eyes. The nymph gave his friend a smile and said, as ever in a charming tone, "Bonjour, Arthur."

Cutting right to the chase, the younger man replied, "I have an idea, and I want your opinion on it." He was already pretty sure what the creature would say, but calling this a "request" felt rude.

"Of course. What is it?"

"You probably know that I'm unable to come out here and visit you as often as we would like," he reminded him, though that factor was likely different between the two of them.

Francis nodded, "I'm aware, but it makes me happy that you continue to visit me whenever you can."

"Well, I have a theory that could solve this problem, considering that I'm the master of the house now, as my family has moved away."

"Oui?"

"Why don't you come to live in the house with me? That way we won't be separated for several days at a time."

"Live at the house?" The creature was somewhat stupefied, but he wasn't sure if it was entirely good. He would love to be closer to Arthur, and though he didn't vocalize it, he wished that he could see him more often than just once every week or so. However, nature was his home, and nymphs weren't created to live inside. It was in his nature to share his life as a tree and as a being who could travel. But...at the same time... "You're so kind, Arthur. I'd be honored," he loved Arthur more than anything. He would do anything to be with him more than they had been before.

The younger man smiled, "Then lets go home." Francis nodded, and reached out to take Arthur's hand, but the man had already began turning around to walk out of the grove. Dropping it, he began to follow him out.

This would be something very new to him, but he would be with Arthur, so everything would be okay.

And with that, Francis was happy.


It all started well in the beginning, but Mother Earth and Father Time weren't always compatible together. More years went by, and Arthur continued to change as he became several years older. Francis had noticed, sort of. To him, Arthur's non-observant changes were only in his words and in his requests. Before, he could only see difference between "I want to play" and "I want some breakfast, make me some" in the letters that made up the sentence. He was just starting to understand what that actually meant. In truth, Arthur's view and attitude towards him had changed. He was no longer a mystical nymph that lived in a grove near his house, he was practically a human-like thing who was with him almost every hour of the day. Arthur treated him more like a human nowadays, though he still would keep in mind that he was immortal and that the nymph had a devotion to him - and that devotion was becoming more and more...troublesome. Sadly, Arthur's memory of his childhood years were becoming more and more dim. Those memories weren't as treasured or valuable to him anymore. Francis, on the other hand, held those thoughts as close to his heart as he could, he remember every second of every day he spent with Arthur as clear as crystal. He truly loved Arthur more than anything, but Arthur's love for him was slowly beginning to slip away.

It just didn't come into realization until one morning, whenever Francis was making breakfast for Arthur.

"You have such long hair," Arthur mused, curling his fingers into the strands that rested at the base of Francis's neck. He stepped away from Francis's back, which he had been pressed against, and stepped around to the side.

Francis looked up to him and nodded, "That I do. I've worn it that way for a very long time, as you know." He loved his hair, he thought it was his best feature. When he was a tree, he liked it especially, because that meant he would have a plethora of leaves. He took his time to brush it and take care of it as well as he could.

"Cut it off."

The words suddenly cut through Francis without warning, and his smile quickly dissolved, "Cut it off? But why?"

"Only girls have long hair, Francis. At least cut it so that it's to your ears or something," Arthur looked completely serious, his green eyes somewhat narrowed to accompany the order. What else could Francis say? If this would make him happy...

"I'll cut it after I make your breakfast."

"Okay," Arthur spoke in a more pleased tone. He sounded happy.

And with that, Francis was happy.


Francis always wore his hair shorter from that day on, it curled outwards rather than inwards now, and it was still distinctive to be his own. So, Francis wasn't troubled by it all that much. If Arthur liked it, then he liked it.

But more problems began to arise as time continued to flow.

The nymph was used to being able to sleep outside every once in a while, considering that he needed to have at least some contact with nature for a good period of time in order to stay healthy and happy. However, that changed just as quickly as the length of his hair had.

"I don't like that you sleep outside on Saturday evenings," Arthur told him tartly.

"But Arthur-"

"No! You told me as a child that you would never leave me! You're basically stepping on that by being away from me for the night," the young man frowned, "I'm lonely those nights. You're supposed to stay with me."

Logically, Francis could have countered it that they hadn't stayed together for a night for many, many years. Only until recently did they start sleeping together in the same bed, in the same house even. However, Francis assumed that due to their situation changing, that meant that the rules were a little different.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I won't sleep outside anymore," he wrapped his arms around his love in a hug and said, "I'll stay with you forever, as I promised." He submerged himself again in his selfless and unconditional love, glad that he could fulfill another of Arthur's desires.

"Thank you, Francis. That makes me happy."

And with that, Francis was happy.


A few more years passed by, and Arthur was growing more distant, emotion-wise and proximity-wise, from Francis. Arthur scolded Francis more often about things that were supposed to be different now, due to their situation. He once scolded him about how he spoke to a couple of guests whenever they came to have a tour of the house and talk about business with Arthur. Apparently, Francis's behavior towards them was unacceptable.

"You stupid git!" he snapped after slapping his nymph on the cheek, "You can't just behave like a loon in front of my guests!"

"I was acting like myself, Arth-" he was struck again.

"Exactly! You can't act like you're a nymph whose spent his whole life prancing through the trees, being one with nature and shit! Bloody hell, at least try to act like a human being!"

"But, I am a nym-" Another punishment.

"Just because you are one doesn't mean you act like one! What would people say if they knew who you really are? They'd think you're a freak!"

Francis blinked, and ceased rubbing his sore cheeks. He supposed he never considered that thought. Sitting more upright from the floor, he nodded at Arthur, who was kneeling above him, "I'm sorry Arthur, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Arthur stood up, leaving Francis on the floor and said, "It's alright, just don't do it again," before heading away.

Also, Arthur began to start having friends over, or going away for one or several days at a time to be with his friends. Although he wasn't receiving it from himself, it was important that Arthur appeared to be happy.

And with that, Francis was happy.


Two more years had gone by, and Arthur's friends were regular visitors in his house. They knew Francis by name, but they wouldn't speak to him. Francis wondered if it was because they happened to know what he was, but he never confronted Arthur about it.

He began to watch Arthur with his friends, and he wasn't sure about what he saw.

Usually, there would be a lot of reckless drinking involved with these visits from his friends, and they would normally talk in slurred sentences while they lounged practically on top of one another.

There were a couple girls as well, one of them clearly very close to his beloved Arthur. He even saw them share a kiss two or three times, likely more whenever he wasn't around to see. He was discovering new feelings that he didn't know that he had, but they were very toned-down from a normal human reaction to these feelings.

He never acted upon his jealousy when he saw them cuddling together on the sofa, he never cried whenever seeing them kiss hurt his heart, he never yelled whenever Arthur would leave in the middle of the night and come back several days later. He also never thought about lust whenever he was giving his love to Arthur.

At least, not until he had to.

After the sun had set, and the moon was reaching it's peak in the sky, Francis was once again left alone at the house. He was tidying up their bedroom whenever Arthur flung the bedroom door open and stumbled inside. Clearly ready to collapse, the immortal held Arthur in his arms so that he wouldn't fall to the floor. He smelled of alcohol. He probably snuck out to drive to the bar with his friends.

Francis was only happy that he made it safely home, "Are you alright, petit lapin?"

"Shut up," harsh words burbled from Arthur's lips. His fingers gripped onto the fabric of his shirt and curled in the short strands of his hair.

"Cheri?"

"Told you..to shut up..." he leaned up and pressed his lips against Francis's, to which the latter jolted in surprise. Arthur had never been intimate with him, never gave any clue of wanting to be intimate with him. But now that drink had washed away some of his thinking ability, he growled, "I'm horny...do something Francis..."

"But Arthur-"

"Now Francis...!" Forcefully, Arthur pushed him onto the bed and crawled on top of him, sputtering, "If you won' screw me...then I'll jus' have t' screw you..."

So he lied back and obliged for his beloved. At first he wasn't comfortable with it, but seeing Arthur brimming with pleasure made him feel good that he was able to do this for him. It didn't matter what he felt, it only mattered about what Arthur felt, and Arthur seemed happy.

And with that, Francis was happy.


So much more time went by, and things continued to change as Arthur grew older and older. Now, they were nearing the end of their time together.

Arthur had gotten married to that girl he had always been with, Michelle. He had been happy. They had two beautiful children together. He had been even happier. Those two children both grew up well, got married themselves, and had children of their own. It had been a long time since Francis had seen Arthur so happy. He still lived in the manor house, and Arthur was still there as well. Michelle had died several years ago of cancer, and it appeared that Arthur wasn't that far behind from the clutches of death as well.

Throughout the majority Arthur's life, Francis had always been there - happy. He loved Arthur as much today as he did whenever he first met him as a little child, and his love had never lessened. If anything, it had grown.

He had given Arthur so much, and didn't expect anything in return. He hadn't bothered to think negatively on any time they had together, because this man had shown him what is was to be loved. The poor naive nymph just had no idea that Arthur's love had shrunk down to next to nothing by this time now.

Now his mortal friend was lying on his deathbed, with only Francis as his company.

"It'll be alright, love. You'll be okay," the nymph tried to soothe him.

"Are you blind, idiot? Of course I'm not going to be alright," Arthur coughed, sighing, "I know that death is inevitable for me now. I feel it wrapping it's fingers around me."

Francis kissed him on the forehead, "Don't talk like that, please. I'll do whatever I can for you, just name it and you'll have it," he smiled, tears peeking through his eyes, "I love you more than anything else in the world, and I owe you something for making me feel loved."

"Then please," Arthur said slowly, "please bury me right next to Michelle after I die. I want to greet her properly when I enter heaven." There were no sweet words for Francis, nothing for the man who spent his entire life by his side, but Francis didn't care. He was just so happy that if he could do this thing for Arthur, he would be a happy man in the spiritual realm.

Arthur died a few days later; and, as promised, he was buried right beside Michelle. Francis liked to think that his corpse would smile upon knowing that he was next to his wife, but he supposed his spirit would only smile. The reality that he wouldn't have Arthur anymore sunk into Francis, but he wasn't unhappy. Instead, he transformed into the beech tree again, right before Arthur and Michelle's graves. He couldn't see himself as a tree, but the poor trunk was covered in scars, as it was a tree that scarred easily. Yet, the roses climbed back up the trunk - even if they weren't as radiant as once before, and the leaves grew out - even if they weren't as plentiful as once before, and Francis bowed the trunk's head over the two headstones. He thought to himself that he would watch over the two of them, as they were happy together on the other side. He would sit there until the end of time, remember his blessed life with Arthur, and cherish the memories forever, even should the headstones fade and Arthur were to forget him in his spiritual life. All because he loved him dearly, and he would never love someone so fully in all of his endless days.

And with that, Francis was happy.


Largely inspired by Shel Silverstein's "The Giving Tree" if you couldn't tell. I apologize if I gave you a bunch of unwanted feels by the end of this.

Thanks for reading. :)