Note- Sangeaux, Toki's country house, would be pronounced 'Sahng-O" and would mean something close to 'Blood Waters' in terrible, terrible French. I wanted something close to Blood Ocean that would sound like an actual place. Toolazytologin, I can hardly believe your username because you aren't too lazy to leave the best, loveliest reviews ever. You should sign up so I can PM you!
The woods outside the small estate of Sangeaux were thick and dark, filled with fungi and some said strange beings- lutins, goblin like creatures were said to roam the woods of Normandy and occupy the houses of the humble people, helping out or causing mischief depending on their inclination. One of these, the Nain Rouge, or red dwarf, with his red eyes and rotting teeth, had a more malicious turn. He would attack without warning, and leave a stream of blood in his wake.
It gave Toki a strange kind of comfort to think of these beings, even the sinister ones, as he traversed the path strewn with rotting logs and vague shadows. It took him to the better part of his homeland, to his bond with his nurse Alva and Hjalmar, and of course Fjosnisse, the barn elf. It was as though he was traveling through an early world beyond reason, where he would not be judged by etiquette or the details of his costume. He wondered if the sinister or mischievous elements of his being were taking fruit after his humiliation, much like the thick fluted mushrooms that sprung from fallen trees around him.
But exhaustion finally won over, and he was forced to make his way down the damp path towards the house. He realized as he stepped out of the woods that it had been raining heavily during his walk; he had only felt a few drops under the heavy curtain of the branches overhead.
He saw a small, round figure part the curtains as pulled his coat over his head and broke into a run. Toki's housekeeper at Sangeaux was mute. Marinette was a remnant of his father's rule. His parents had never believed in speaking except in cases of the utmost necessity, and his father, having no need for a chattering servant, purposely chose one without the ability to speak. After his father's death, the woman had frightened him during his brief visits to the estate, and he had considered firing her. She reminded him of his parents, and he assumed that under her stare and her unsmiling mouth she was judging him.
But it occurred to him that Marinette had was as frightened of him as he was of her, and his unwillingness to engage her had only pushed her deeper into herself. With some kindness, some teasing and cajoling, her found her to be a good-hearted and loving woman, not too different from his dear Alva at home. It had been his father who had trained her not to smile, and when she realized that happiness was permitted, she engaged in it wholeheartedly. Marinette was the only living being that knew of his toy soldier, and she always polished him and cleaned his clothes when Toki brought him home. She had even made Rockso a new suit, courtier's clothes that matched Toki's own. Toki didn't want a host of people around him in his retreat so he only kept on Marinette and her son, a fourteen year old named Jean who served as a groom.
Toki stayed out as long as he dared. So long as he was in motion, he seemed to be able to control of his thoughts and direct them, but as soon as he would relax, they would overtake him again.
.He slumped into an armchair, and Marinette hurried toward him with a steaming cup of coffee, prepared in the Norwegian style, and a thick slice of kransekake, wreath cake. It was typically only served on special occasions, but she hoped it would cheer him up.
When Toki took over Sangeaux, Marinette thanked God she had someone to really cook for, as the old Count had preferred a depressing oat gruel. But Toki was different. With his childish greed, he had a tendency to eat an entire cake in one sitting. Marinette had no speech to admonish him, but she would put her hands on her hips and laugh while he was eating, and make a clucking sound that distinctly meant 'I told you so' when he lay in bed afterwards, groaning with his hands on his distended stomach.
But this time there was no greed- and no laughter. He held the coffee in his hands, but didn't drink, and didn't even touch the beautiful cake, and Marinette left the room with a sigh.
Now, left alone, Toki gave way to his thoughts. The room around him was brighter and cheerier- even the grey tones of the paint couldn't dull the inherent charm of the building, and Toki had taken the time to make alterations. Here was a place he could truly retreat, almost a home.
He had committed no crime, but he felt a deep, overwhelming sense of shame. He had fallen to his knees before Skwigelf, before the entire court. He had had the audacity to challenge the greatest guitarist alive, and had paid the penalty. Toki knew how the courtiers viewed him- a provincial, an outsider, and his only saving grace had been his skill at the guitar. And now he had proven that he was a pretender, a swindler almost. He knew the court, and that they would not quickly forgive being hoodwinked. If only he could explain himself to Marie, to Yolande…but no, their disappointment would be worse than anything. He could not return to court.
He sincerely regretted that he had not insisted on a proper duel- with swords and blood. He was sure now, sure that could have cut Skwigelf to shreds…
His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on the door. He was not supposed to answer it, and he called out for Marinette. But she was caught up in the kitchen, probably supervising a meal he wouldn't eat, and the knocking continued. It jarred him, and in spite of his fatigue, he pulled himself out of the chair, released the bolts, and opened it.
It was Skwigelf.
The Swede was soaked through. The rain had ruined his curls so his hair fell in long golden waves down his shoulders. He seemed stronger, more masculine, like the hunters in Lillehammer who scoured the woods for prey. He had the same ferocity in his eyes as well, and in spite of his shock, Toki stepped back in alarm.
He wanted to shut the door on him, he wanted to tell him to go back where he came from, but Skwigelf was shivering. Toki peered behind him- a brown Arabian stallion stood by the gate, its nostrils expanding and contracting from exertion.
He was cautious and didn't trust his words. "Where ams your manservant?" he asked.
Skwigelf was silent, and wrapped his damp arms around his body.
"You comes alone?" asked Toki with shock. He couldn't slam the door on him now. "Well, comes in," he said reluctantly, and the Swede stepped in the foyer, dripping on the black and white checkered tiles.
Marinette now appeared, and looked on in surprise at the tall, soaked figure at the doorway. Her eyes flickered, and Toki shook his head in exasperation. Even with his damp skin and sopping hair, Skwisgaar had the power to entice. But he wouldn't be here long enough to seduce her- Toki wanted to keep at least a few his friends for himself.
"Marinette, fetch a blankets. And sends a grooms out for that horse." Marinette curtsied briskly. There was a small smile on her face, and it occurred to Toki she was enjoying herself.
Skwigelf had still not said a word. His face was pale- alarmingly pale, and Toki's heart contracted. He hated this man, but it was hard to watch him suffer.
"Come," he said, "Off with the jackets." Skwisgaar did not move, and Toki grimaced. "Used to having a servants do everythings for you," he grumbled, and pulled the long riding coat off the shuddering form and flung it to the ground. He then proceeded to pull off the embroidered vest. The Swede's damp silk shirt clung to his body, outlining his chest, his ribs, and curves of his stomach.
"Marinette!" Called Toki frantically. But Toki didn't have to go farther. Skwigelf's eyes were still glazed over, but he loosened the cravat himself, and then slowly unbuttoned the shirt and peeled it off his back. Toki noticed the strength of his arms twisting down to the sinews of the wrist, powerful from playing, and he frowned. He lifted his eyes warily. The Swede was standing immobile, still shivering. His skin was chilled over, pure white, and his firm chest rose and fell in shuddering breaths.
Toki turned away, and Marinette appeared. But her eyes went wide with concern as she scanned Skwigelf's body and she dropped the blanket she was holding. She snatched Skwigelf's wrist, and hurried him down the hall to spare bedroom.
Toki followed her. "Is he in dangers?" asked Toki, and Marinette nodded frantically. Toki stood helpless as Marinette pulled off his shoes, his stockings, his breeches. Toki tried to avert his eyes, but it was too late. He caught a glimpse of the long, slender form before Marinette threw a dressing gown on him and stuffed him under the bedclothes.
Marinette took Toki's shoulders and held them in place, motioning towards the bed. He was to stay there, and watch. She shut the door behind her and he stared down at Skwigelf. His eyes were glazed over, and his damp hair clung to his pale cheeks. It would only increase the risk. Toki reluctantly brushed the strands from his face, and lifting Skwigelf's head, pulled the hair away from his head so it fell like a halo over the pillows. Toki cursed himself for his compassion. He rubbed Skwigelf's cheeks, and a small bloom of color came over them. Swigelf's gaze fell on him, and his pupils flickered with a hint of recognition.
"It ams so cold," he said like a child, and his lids went heavy.
"It ams summertimes, and only a stupid rainstorms, and you should not bes here," grumbled Toki.
"My hands…they ams freezing," said Skwigelf. Toki would have thought he was taunting him, but the man's head tossed on the pillow. Mercy was a brutal thing. Reaching under the cover, he pulled out Skwigelf's hand, with the long fingers that had humiliated him, and rubbed it between his palms. Skwigelf let out a sigh, and a rosy flush appeared over his forehead. Perhaps it was helping him.
Toki reached across the bed for the other hand, his torso brushing the Swede's, and he felt a hand lazily grazing his back. He rubbed the other hand, before pushing the covers up to Skwigelf's chin.
Skwigelf didn't look so haughty, or so cruel now. His lids had fallen, and he appeared to be asleep. His full lips were slightly parted and he was breathing gently through them. And with his hair in disarray, he seemed less cold and formal. Toki felt a strange urge to touch it, but pulled away. Why was this man even here?
Marinette hurried into the room with a warming pan. Skwisgaar groaned and twisted his body as she pushed it under the bedclothes. She touched his right cheek, then his left, before running his hand over his forehead. She sighed deeply, and smiled.
"What-what ams it? Will he be okays?" asked Toki. She nodded, and pushing the covers over Skwigelf's shoulders, led Toki out of the room.
Toki tossed in bed that night. It seemed so strange, that the last man he wanted to see was sleeping in his house. He was sick with curiosity- why was he here? Why did he come alone on the dangerous north road, with no servant to accompany him? It did not occur to Toki that he had made the same trip the week before.
One thing was certain- he wouldn't have taken such pains to mock him. Toki was alarmed at the relief he had felt that afternoon, when he had known that Skwigelf would be all right. His eyes opened as a thought occurred to him- sometimes the chill took a while to take effect, and the fever would appear later.
Toki slipped down the hall to the guest bedroom, and carefully opened the door. He slipped up beside the sleeping figure, and placed his hand on the forehead. It was cool. He sighed deeply, before a hand took his.
"It ams you," whispered Skwigelf.
Toki said nothing. He released the hand and placed it gently on the Skwigelf's chest. He returned to his bed, quietly, but with a full heart.