Comfort in the Snow: chapter 3
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Lamgarnu's POV
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I had no idea how... rewarded... I'd feel when he lifted his arms in an awkward manner to wrap them around me. I felt surprise along with the warmth as well, and I parted and looked up at him.
It was easy to tell he wasn't used to being pampered and fondled in any loving way, and was simply uneasy with showing emotion. So I was surprised that he'd hugged me back. And by the shy, startled look he wore, I could tell he was as well.
"You'll get the hang of it soon, Gil," I said, meaning more than one thing though I was sure he only caught the easy one. The meaning about his speaking. Which he still hadn't gotten a hang of. The other meaning was about getting the hang of expressing himself.
He nodded and sat back, continuing in his relentless pursuit of the water. I watched, like I had for the past couple minutes, just watching. Watching and wondering.
His darkly tanned hands, pale scars dashing across, dipped in the clear, crystalline water of the brook we were currently sitting at, then lifted slowly, and he watched the blue tinged liquid run and slide past his hands, back into the brook, where they would be carried by gravity and the current, until the water reached the vast place simply known as the ocean. A cycle.
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Gil's POV
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This was so strange. It had been decades since I'd last enjoyed myself purely like this, had time to relax, to think. No, that wasn't right. I'd had plenty of time to think before. In my cold, dark cell, reeking of rotten food, decaying rats, infested with bugs, revolting me every second I was in there. Sometimes, I even welcomed the harsh training sessions, or the torturous sparring time with other demons just because it meant I could leave that rotten hellhole. Not for long though, by the time I was done with whatever activity had thrown me outside, I was ready to welcome time the time to heal the most assuredly present wounds I'd acquired that day. I'd gotten sick a lot the first couple years, but soon my youkai body had adapted, even if my mind hadn't. And I could remember waking up in the middle of the night, the cold stone floor seeming to shift as various night pests scurried across it, and scream, cry in anguish, in pain and disgust and misery.
I'd tried so hard to die, but I was important to them, and they'd do whatever was possible to keep me from dying. They being Shydeman and Shyrendora. And before that, Kharl. So I'd turned cold and emotionless to myself, a way to protect myself. If I didn't think about the pain, if I didn't think about myself and thought of my life as their living puppet show, their doll for them to do as they wished, to control, it didn't matter what they did to me. It hurt less that way. Ignoring myself. I was a doll, my life was meaningless, I didn't really exist. I'd tried to imagine that I was only pretending I was alive, that I truly had no feelings, and I was only imagining the pain. I realized now that it was a twisted way to think, but... it had offered protection.
In the damp corner of my cell, as I huddled in the cold and fingered gingerly the shallow cuts on my arm, I wondered what it would be like to live. For real, to cease to be a puppet. To shed the skin of a doll and have wings, and fly. Have my own life, make my own choices, live my way... and be free. Then I realized I was dreaming, but I didn't try to wake, because dreams were so much sweeter.
I never spoke. Not during the fifty some years I was their prisoner, that was also part of the reason it'd been so hard to speak again. I blinked. Well, there was one time I did speak. When I'd first been bought by Shydeman from Kharl, and I was being led by Fedelta into the Nadil's castle. I remembered that as I sullenly trod behind the fire youkai, I'd instinctively turned to look up and met the inquiringly curious gaze of a youkai with orange and white hair swept upward, two long golden bangs falling down as he looked down, body sitting, casually leaning against the wall of what appeared to have been a room whose front wall had crumbled, leaving a blank space to look down. What had surprised me was the candid gaze he gave me. No discrimination, hatred, wish to hurt or manipulate. Just pure curiosity, along with a certain degree of indifference that appeared to be a natural part of his character. For some reason, I'd felt inclined to just pause and gaze back at him, my own indifferent gaze on him. But then Fedelta had scolded me and told me to keep going, and I just glanced back for a second before continuing.
But then I'd met him again. Surprisingly, as I was wrapping myself in a blanket Shydeman had graciously thrown at me to cover myself after my first meeting with him, before the animal spell was placed on me, I heard yells and a general commotion going on outside.
Lifting an eyebrow in surprise, I'd recognized the youki of the orange haired youkai and bid him in.
"This is Shydeman's private chambers. No one is allowed in here, not even those guards that were chasing you. Shydeman just stepped out so he won't be back in a while. You can leave out the back window," I allowed myself a dark grin, "I never saw you."
"But what will you-" I didn't want him to continue. A part of me was surprised that he'd even thought about me, considered what I wanted, but the other part want the rest of the question to remain unsaid, lest the feelings and barrier I had carefully constructed fall apart. That didn't mean I didn't think about it though.
"I don't think about myself. It's easier that way. I'm just their doll. They do with me as they will," I said impersonally, turning my head down to the side. But then I looked up, not at him, but up, "Still, every once in a while, I wonder what it'd be like to be free. Make my own decisions. Is that so wrong?"
Now I realized that I had been so enveloped in my own theory that I was theirs and I didn't really exist as a person, that I'd actually wondered if it was wrong to think outside of that reality I'd set myself into.
His response startled me, made me feel some sort of sorrow inside of me.
"No," he said shortly, "Maybe I'll help you out with that one day," he looked at me, his parting message filled with some sort of compassion. Not a loving compassion, or pitying. More like he knew what I meant, empathy, and somehow making me feel that I had lost the meaning of life. And somehow, I felt like I'd gained the closest thing to a friend I'd ever had since I'd been turned into the monster I was now. And then lost it as he leapt out the window, a last quick glance in my direction as I stared sorrowfully at his retreating figure.
That night, I'd cried. For my new home, for the loss of my life, for the falsity of the mentality I was brewing for protection, for the foreboding feeling of things to come, for myself. And for the one person who ever saw me as a person, when I was denying that fact to myself.
That's why, after all that, it felt so strange to be happy again. I stole a quick glimpse at Laamgarnus. I couldn't believe that there was someone else like that orange haired youkai I'd met in Nadil's castle. Somebody who saw me as a person, who acknowledged and cared for the feelings I had. I felt like I could trust him. And it was just so strange. I was completely unused to the scene I found myself in.
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Lam's POV
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His face, the same shade of golden, dark tan as the rest of his skin, watched the water as he mindlessly repeating his pursue of the water, entranced, enchanted, with a pensive look. Weighing everything, reflecting on what had happened over the past couple days. I guessed he was thinking about the past, considering the serious look in his face, the flashes of pain I saw in his eyes. So I moved behind him, sliding my arms around him, trying to provide comfort. He jumped a bit, startled out of his thoughts, and looked at me for a second, eyes wide, before they softened and he dropped his gaze again, a slow almost sad smile on his face. His hand slid up, touching my arm briefly in quick thanks. Cold. Reasonable since it'd been in a freezing winter stream's water.
And though I was saddened that he was sad, I smiled yet again. Every minute I was with him was a smile. Either out of amusement at his actions, or happiness at them. I was better at expressing myself with words usually. I used actions plenty, but I was a talker. He was a doer. I'd noticed that fairly quickly. At least so far. If he was a talker he would have tried to talk a lot sooner than now. It stood to think that he was more of the quiet type. And he was good at showing his feelings simply with actions. He didn't need words.
I looked up, past the icicle ridden trees and the almost blinding white of the snow. Although quite some time had passed, I could tell from the cold that was biting at my face and hands. And even the rest of my coat-covered body was beginning to feel the chill. Another easy way to tell was that the sky was taking a very slight pinkinsh tinge, the sun getting lower every minute in the orange horizon taking the blinding glare from the snow. Hard to think that we'd spent the whole day here. A well worth day in my opinion though, I thought, giving Gil a glance.
Standing up, I arched backwards, stretching, just stood there, looking out onto the white covered woods. In front of me, Gil suddenly coughed and shivered, rubbing his arms repeatedly.
"Aah! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have let you out here too long!" Darn it, that cough hadn't sounded good, and if he'd admitted to being cold by rubbing his arms, then he must have been very cold. I cursed silently at myself for getting distracted and knelt by his side. He shook his head as if telling me nothing was wrong, but I was afraid his fever had rekindled. Sure enough, as I pressed my hand to his cheek and forehead I pulled back from the highly uncomfortably hot skin. And the shivering indicated chills.
"Let's get back now," I fretted, pulling him up carefully. He stumbled a bit, holding tightly to my arm. It was my entire fault too, I thought, biting my lip. This whole time I'd passed the flush on his face as simply a blush instead of realizing that he shouldn't have been out in the cold so long. I shouldn't have asked him to come out so soon, he'd only just woken up yesterday after being so sick...
I pulled him along carefully, keeping an eye out for stray rocks and longs, watching him vigilantly. Going back to the cabin was much slower than coming from, I realized.
He gripped my arm tighter, pausing to catch his breath. I stopped, watching him worriedly. How could I have been so stupid as to let him get sicker? As if his health wasn't bad enough as it was right now. He released the pressure from my arm, not letting go though, and began walking again, stumbling slightly in the process. I walked in front, leading him slowly, listening to his breath becoming heavier with every step. I was about to turn and make him sit down when he finally slumped against my back and I turned to catch him before he fell. Gil looked at me apologetically and I shook my head sternly.
"You're tired, just going to the stream was too much exercise for today, let alone coming back. I'm sorry, I thought you'd be up to it..." I said quietly and picked his light body up, hefting it precariously against me as I tried to favor my right arm when dull pain spread from the wound. He leaned into me, taking a slight hold of my jacket and closing his eyes as I ambled the rest of the way back home.
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Kicking the door back into the house open, I walked in and set Gil back into my bed, stripping off the heavy jacket and covering him with the blankets and sheets. I pressed my hand to his forehead, wincing at the heat. It was as bad as the first couple days he'd been here, and that said a lot. His breathing had calmed though, and that came as a relief, one that quickly dissipated when he coughed again. Chills and fever, I'd just improved the situation so much.
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Gil's POV
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I didn't care that I'd gotten sick again. But I could tell that he felt guilty. It was evident in the way his hands moved, the way he looked at me, as if asking sorry and trying to make up for it by being extra gentle and caring. There was no way he could be any gentler than he already was. I tried to say something, to shake my head, anything, but I felt so tired... There was a strange heaviness to my body, as if weights were attached to my limbs, and even doing nothing made me feel tired. It was like a curtain had fallen on my head, cloaking my senses, clogging my ability to perceive and think correctly. Coherently.
My mind drifted, my sight blurry so I couldn't tell that his mouth was moving. I tried to catch the drift of a couple words, but they stopped and he looked at me anxiously and put both his hands on my face, turning it to look at me carefully, and repeated the same words. This time, I caught them, and finally realized he was asking me if I was still cold. I would have tried to use my newly reacquired speech to say that I was. I was freezing. Nowhere near as cold as I was the night he'd found me, but I was uncomfortably cold. The warm bed and clothes helped a lot, but I was feeling unnaturally cold. This wasn't outside cold, this was cold that came from nowhere and hence ate you from inside. But since I couldn't speak, I simply opted for a nod, which I guessed turned out to be the barest of acknowledgements, a vague tilt of my chin. He caught it nonetheless and frowned, beginning to get up to fetch presumably blankets, but I pulled on his arm, stopping him. I noticed my hand was shaking, and glancing down, was met with the same thing from the rest of my body. I hadn't even realized I was shivering.
"What?" the questioning look on his face asked. I made a short negative noise, trying, with my relatively lacking amount of strength, to keep him here by pulling once again on his sleeve. A gaze of pity mixed with barely discernible guilt was turned on me, and though I usually hated something like pity, from him it didn't bother me.
He smiled gently and pulled my hand off, where it fell limply leaning over the side of the bed before he patted it. I hoped my message had at least gotten through. I wanted him next to me, not to leave me for even a second.
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Lam's POV
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I didn't know what was it about him that he didn't want me to even leave his side. Did he need company so badly? Had his years as a captive in Nadil's army been so lonesome and inhuman? In truly wondered what went through his head, what memories he had that kept that haunted, tormented look in his eyes, much as I tried to dispel it, much as it cleared every once in a while, it was there. I was torn between forcing him to dispel it, or indulge it so that it dispelled on its own. Indulging it seemed better for him.
I patted his hand again, speaking slowly, "I have to make you some soup though. You need food. And it'll help get you warm again and get rid of those chills."
The maroon-haired demon turned his head away, biting his lip, and pulled his hand back, his way of saying that it was ok for me to go. I hesitated.
"I... have to go out back to get the things for the soup, so... I'll be back in five minutes, alright?"
His eyes widened slightly, and his head began to turn towards me, but then he seemed to fight the urge and his face set into stone, staring evenly at the wall though his hands tightened on the bed. I sighed, running a hand through my hair, and walked out.
Minutes later, as I came back in carrying all the vegetables, all the spices and things like that, I found that Gil was already asleep, face troubled underneath the layer of sweat already forming about his face. I wanted to run to him and hold him, and ease the shivering, and warm him, but right now he needed food, something substantial to draw energy from. Then I could do the rest.
I almost felt amusement at myself. Give me someone to care for, and I turn responsible. I begin dicing up the vegetables, still favoring my right arm as the wound hadn't yet healed. I turned my head to look at Gil again, then swept my gaze over the room. It was unaccustomedly clean. Like I said, I'd turned responsible and given up... most, of my lazy ways over the past few days. After all, I could have a messy house with him here. It'd taken me forever to find the things I'd needed to take care of him in the mess of floor. So then I'd decided that I needed to clean things up and keep them that way.
A sudden boiling and bubbling noise at my side brought my attention back and kept me from nearly becoming left-handed, and I gathered all the veggies and dropped them into the scalding water, mindful of the splashed. Didn't wanna become burnt as well as left handed in one day.
It'd take a while for the soup to be ready, so I finished adding the spices and the like and cleaned up. Responsibility, I thought to myself sternly, then just dropped all the materials in the sink. To clean up later. I had said I'd gotten rid of most of my lazy ways.
Settling my body into the plush chair I'd placed next to my bed, I reached over to my bedside bookshelf and withdrew a leather bound book. Read a book and you suddenly become a dork, I though, remembering how the other demons in Nadil's army had made fun of me for being the meek, gentle, bookworm. Now though, I found it more amusing than hurtful, as I had before. I shook my head and opened the yellowed pages to the marker I'd set to mark my place. ...Obviously.
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My hand paused right above the sleeping youkai's shoulder, hesitating since he was so peacefully asleep, but then moved resolutely forward and shook the darkly tanned shoulder gently.
"Hey, Gil, wake up. I have the food," I said, bringing the steaming plate near his face in an attempt to have the smell wake him. It apparently worked, because he slid open his eyes, mumbling something incoherent, and groaned.
"Sorry to wake you up, I really am, but you need energy, and food is just that," I said, setting the plate down on the bedside table and easing him up carefully. He just kinda laid against my body, clearly not awake, judging by the glazed look in his eyes. The feverish flush on his face had deepened during the time he'd slept, but his shivering had turned more violent.
"Here, this should warm you up," picking up the silver spoon, I dipped it in the minestrone sea and brought it up filled to the rim. It was the small spoon, so he'd be able to swallow faster. Still half slumped against me, he opened his mouth just enough to allow the spoon to enter and quickly closed it again. I removed the spoon and watched amusedly as his eyes widened and he swallowed quickly, panting slightly. He turned a slight glare at me, obviously much more awake now.
"Oops, is it hot?" I grimaced playfully. He just glared a little more.
"Here, I'll blow on it to make it cooler," I also stirred the soup. I gave him another spoonful, which he swallowed without much trouble. And another, which he actually leaned forward to slurp clean, and another, until the bowl was almost done.
But Gil was looking extremely sleepy by now, his eyes half lidded and movements slow. That was, after all, the effect being full with something warm did. He looked at me pleadingly, a small mew forming on his lips.
"Nope, you have to eat the rest. It's just three more spoonfuls," I said firmly, sliding another bite in his mouth. The small youkai swallowed heavily and groaned slightly in that cat-like way of his that always just made me want to smile and squeeze him like I had a kitten that I'd had when young. Of course, I resisted. He looked at me piteously.
"C'mon, have you looked at yourself? You're underweight, skinny as a worm that's been stepped on– several times. I'm gonna make you... well, right again," I told him, finding no word for healthily heavier.
He gave the slightest of sighs and opened his mouth for the next spoonful.
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Gil's POV
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I caved in completely into Laamgarnus as I finished swallowing the last of the soup. I felt like I was floating, my stomach so full I was having trouble breathing, just looking at things with a daze. It had helped though. I felt a bit better. I was still cold, and shivering didn't make the bloated feeling in my stomach very pleasant at all. I felt him shift beneath my limp body, setting the bowl to the side, and then he turned me gently around, settling me back into the bed and stretching me out.
Slipping the soft cover over me, I was surprised to feel that his body was next to me still, I could feel his chest pressing firmly onto my back.
"There's only one way to make this silly fever and chills go down. I'll keep you warm," he said softly, mindful that my ear was right underneath his mouth. The smile was almost audible in his voice.
I struggled up onto my elbows, trying to swivel around to face him, ignoring his hands on my back that warned me, my breathing suddenly becoming great wavering gulps of air before I collapsed onto my new position, facing him. He looked at me worriedly.
"You shouldn't have done that..." he said. Yes, I did. I shifted myself closer to him, relishing in the warmth his now bare chest provided. His arms moved to wrap around me, warming my back as well, the covers falling softly, draping over our two bodies. I rested my head in the crook of his neck, feeling completely at peace. It helped though that I was full and immobilized by the fever. But what helped more was simply the feeling of the larger, protective body holding me close, the soft, silken feel of purple hair in my face and the soft voice that murmured into my ears.
"G'nite, Kitten."
I didn't realize I had started making a pleased, purring noise deep in my throat, living up to his nickname of me.