EL Official BK5 Chapter 39 - The Ruins of the Vanir Village. (Patreon)

Nathaniel takes Eric to look at his old home...

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“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked my Vanir casually. He stood just ahead of me, and before us loomed the cold remains of a mansion. Vines and tree limbs had grown into the windows, shattering the glass, while the winter weather had frozen the floorboards solid.

“I don’t know…” Eric answered, sedate.

“It’s your choice.”

“Remind me again why you’ve decided now is a good time to let me make decisions again?”

“Don’t be a brat. Go inside or don’t, but let’s not stand out in the cold for too long.”

Eric snorted softly to himself before stepping forward. His footsteps thudded lightly up the stairs and I followed after him with caution. It had been years since the Vanir were banished, and these lands were mine, but it still felt strange to walk so freely through the area. 

Their village was tribal, almost primitive, enclosed by a low stone wall, and protected by magic runes. A shallow creek twisted alongside the boundary, jittering unnaturally as it traveled through the barrier and temporarily trapping unsuspecting fish. In contrast to the simplicity of the layout, the houses were more modern, so to speak. Something alike to 19th century mansions, with hand carved embellishments.

Oil lamps lined the streets, but power lines connected the houses. It was as if they had built their homes with aspects from each century up until recently. Still, without its residence the area was quiet, nature was beginning to reclaim the buildings and the silence was eerie.

Eric’s family home was more run down than most, he guessed no one had dared touch it since his father’s disappearance, and I suspected he was correct. Inside it was dusty with patches of ice, paint chipped off the walls and the furnishings were moth eaten.

My Vanir moved ahead of me with trepidation, stopping occasionally as his attention fixated on specific points of the home. I could only guess he was remembering things, although he didn’t share, and I didn’t ask. Truthfully, I disliked seeing him so tense. He flinched back when birds erupted from one of the rooms. They fluttered frantically as they escaped through one of the broken windows and Eric stepped back into me. 

His heart beat hard enough in his chest that I could feel his body trembling, and mild regret swirled in my stomach. I shouldn’t have let him do this, being here terrified him and I should have known better. 

“Just birds,” I assured softly.

“I noticed,” he muttered bitterly, as he rested back against me, “They came from my father’s office. They have no idea how lucky they are that he’s not here.”

“We can turn back,” I offered.

“No, I’m okay… I just keep expecting to see my father. He would be very upset to know a fae set foot in his house.”

“I’m not exactly thrilled about it myself,” I commented, as he began to move. 

No emotion crossed his face, but I kept a light hold on two of his fingers. Allowing him forward with mild restriction, like a dog tethered to a leash, I wouldn’t let him stray too far this time. Cautiously Eric stepped into what remained of his father’s office.

It was frosty and unkempt. Books sat abandoned and weathered, while loose paperwork had long since disintegrated into mildewy piles. There was a rug in the center of the room, not dissimilar to that in the entryway of Eric’s mansion, and when I nudged it with my foot it crumbled. Beneath it was a spell carved into the wood. A protection of some kind, likely against decay, but it had worn out overtime with no one to renew the magics. 

Cold dust coated the shelving and I stopped to pluck a picture frame from the bookshelf. Wiping the grime off with my thumb revealed a black and white photograph, a family portrait of Eric and his parents. He must have been no older than a human toddler, sitting on his mother’s lap. However, the child was turned away from the camera, focused entirely on the man beside them. Mercury, I guessed.

Tilting my head slightly I glanced past the photograph to where Eric stood beside his father’s desk, fiddling with one of the drawers. He looked remarkably alike to Mercury, especially his eyes. He must’ve gotten his long lashes from his father and I briefly wondered what he would have been like if he were raised by his family. It was hard to imagine, perhaps he would have been a monster.

“What are you doing?” I asked at last, when the rattling became too much to ignore.

“The drawer is stuck,” Eric replied calmly.

“What are you trying to get?”

“I don’t know. Some clue about what happened would be nice.”

“Let me,” I mused, pushing him aside gently as I came to stand beside him.

“Don’t break it,” he complained, holding onto my forearm as I worked.

I ignored his fussing as magic crackled at my fingertips. He either wanted to see what was inside or he didn’t. With a small pulse my energy broke the seal and the drawers all came open at once. The first contained very little, more fragile paperwork and a writing quill. The ink had spilled at some point, damaging the paper, but they were well enough intact that I could recognize our old boundary lines.

The second drawer had small tins of long out of date candy, and the third was half way filled with more photographs. The top few were damaged beyond recognition, but those in the middle had survived. Cautiously Eric looked through them, “My father didn’t take these…” he murmured at last.

“How can you know?” I mused, taking a moment to pull cobwebs from his hair. 

“For one, they’re too warm, for another he’s in some of them… I think my grandmother must have taken these. There’s a lot of my grandfather, and my cousins…” he trailed off, hesitating on one.

“Someone you know?”

“Brigetta… the one who left me at the orphanage,” he explained in disinterested monotone.

“The one who’s necklace you wear,” I added and he scowled slightly, “Keep them,” I added.

“The photographs?”

“No, the cobwebs,” I teased.

“You’re not funny, and I don't want to keep them.”

“They’re your family.”

“You’re my family,” he corrected, and I sighed. Did he always have to argue with me?

“Fine, then I’ll keep them for you.”

Eric’s nose scrunched, “You’re insufferable. You can’t-” his contract caught him and he stopped mid way through the lie.

“I can, now stop being a brat,” I mused, taking the photos from his hands. I was going to keep the framed one as well.

***

We moved on, taking time in each room. In the kitchen Eric told me how his father used to bake with him, and in the hall across the way he remembered how he’d caught his mother cheating with his uncle. There were few empty rooms in the house, but when I noticed my vanir skip a closed door I stopped to open it.

“Nathaniel- wait!” Eric turned back too late when he realized I had veered off.

Inside the room was a small bed surrounded by decaying toys, that had once been clearly placed with precise neatness. In the corner were metal walking aids and I hesitated understanding as Eric pushed me back. He closed the door again, and leaned against it as his breathing shallowed.

“Don’t look in there.”

“That’s your room isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer, but when I moved to reach past him to open the door again he grabbed my arm as my hand touched the door handle, “Please… don’t…” he begged softly.

Emotion was starting to show through the cracks in his facade and he trembled with anxiety, “Eric…-” I began.

“No, I don’t want you to see.”

“Why…?” I pressed gently.

“Because you’ll remember… and you’ll be disgusted again…”

“What are you talking about?” I sighed in exasperation as I set my free hand on his cheek to reassure him.

“…My leg braces…” he murmured, “You hated me when I had to use them…”

“You’re fussing for nothing, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Yes you do! When I was a child, you always avoided me because I couldn’t walk properly!” he spat venomously and I blinked surprised.

Of all the poor reasons he might have come up with, I certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“...Eric, nothing about you disgusts me. I avoided you because I couldn’t be seen to care about you or you would have been a target.”

My vanir stared back blankly as if unable to process what I was telling him. Perhaps that belief was too deep in his mind.

I waited a long moment more before exhaling softly, he wasn’t going to budge. Taking a moment to kiss his forehead I retracted my hand from the door handle and stepped back. There might have been a time where I would have disregarded his unnecessary feelings as useless. But I had no desire to stir his fears and I supposed the best way to show him I didn’t care about his limitations was to show him I didn’t care about seeing proof of them.

“Come, I’ve seen enough of these rudimentary Vanir buildings, and surely you must be hungry by now?” I mused, taking hold of his hand to pull him with me.

Eric followed after slower, as if uncertain he could trust me before his arms slowly wrapped around my torso from behind, stopping me in my tracks. 

“...Thank you…” he grumbled into the back of my shirt.

“That’s pointless, I haven’t done anything,” I assured calmly, I can’t say I didn’t enjoy having him hold me like that, just as I always did.

“You have… you’re just too dumb to realize…”

I turned in his arms to hold him, petting his hair in the wrong direction before smoothing it back down, “...You’re such a brat…” I murmured mostly to myself. 

Truthfully I was glad he was rude. It was a sign that he was healing, and I knew then that he would be okay.

***

We stopped for dinner in the next human city. Valet took my car, and we were seated as requested at a quiet table in the back. The restaurant was human owned, but elegant. Light danced of the chandelier and gentle music brought a calm ambiance to the air. 

It wasn’t overly busy, purely because guests were limited, but the wait staff were well trained. They brought out the appetizers while Eric and I sat side by side instead of across the table from one another because my love is clingy. He leaned against me as he prodded at his food with lackluster. Pushing the serving portion across the plate like a moody child, despite his neutral expression.

“Stop playing with your food,” I commented, as I ate a small savory pastry

“I don’t think I’m hungry…”

I snorted to myself, placing the back of my hand to his forehead. “You’re not feverish,” I taunted gently. I expected that he would scowl, or push me away, instead he averted his gaze downward and I sighed. He’s a lot of work. 

“Eric… If you don’t tell me, I can’t help.”

“…You’ll be mad if I tell you.”

“No, I’ll be mad if you try to take matters into your own hands and run away to ‘save’ us, again.” 

He swallowed hard, fidgeting in his seat and I took a firmer grip of his arm, “Eric.”

“It’s not- I’m not…” he assured quickly, before explaining in a whisper, “…I want to find my father…” 

“You think he’s alive?”

“No… I just want to know where he is…” 

I considered a moment, gradually releasing my grip to caress his face instead, “Okay.”

“…Okay?” he repeated softly and I nodded.

“Yes. If you want to find him, that’s what we’ll do.”

“You’re not mad…?”

“Why should I be? He’s dead and you’re mine. A ghost is no threat to me.”

Eric watched me with uncertainty, “I thought you might not like it if I brought up my family too much…”

“If I didn’t want to hear about your family, why would I agree to take you to your old home?” 

“I don’t know…”

I exhaled, holding his face in my hand and stroking his cheek with my thumb, this one is endlessly fussy. “You did well to tell me,” I assured and his cheeks warmed.  “We’ll begin tomorrow, so long as we return before Markos’s wedding, and before my brother causes too much damage running the castle then it’s fine.”

My vanir rested into my touch, closing his eyes as he held my hand to his face, “I love you an unnecessary amount…” he mumbled and I faltered.

“…There’s no need to say such things here…” I recovered calmly as I released him. 

He is sweet, at least. Although many remain wary of him. 

Markos is hesitant to allow Eric near his son, and Achaicus, while not outrightly displeased, regards my lover with cautionary suspicion. It’s taken some years for Eric to recover… His relationships are slowly healing, Calla trains with him again and he has gone on a handful of small jobs with Charles. They still make him nervous of course, but I believe they will forgive him in full with time.

The most concerning aspect of his recovery has been the night terrors. Often he wakes in a sudden panic, dripping in sweat with tears in his eyes he turns over to hide in my arms. Sometimes he sees those he cares about dead, other times he sees that we will leave him. There’s little I can do to help but hold him until he calms, and it’s rare that he will make it through the night without an episode. 

Worse still is that we can’t be certain whether they are simply nightmares or glimpses of the future. We don’t know the extent nor the impact of his Vanir abilities, but there are records of some being able to see through time, and that’s what scares him the most. He fears he’s seeing a future he can’t prevent. 

For the most part he doesn’t use his talents. It makes him sick when he does, he becomes sluggish and tired with fever… moreover, there’s no point to using it. Our contract grants him use of my magic when he needs it, and I've begun teaching him how to wield it. If he had told me in the first place that he wasn’t human, I could have helped him sooner. Not learning when you’re young impacts how well you will be able to learn it later and he’ll likely never be as strong as he could have been…

My thoughts were interrupted and I took a moment to readjust. Eric had been running his nails along the top of my thigh under the table, but when his hand slipped lower into my inner thigh I had to stop him. Now his hand rested on top of the table, trapped under mine. 

“I wasn’t going to do anything…” he complained in monotone. 

“Then there’s no need for you to hold onto my thigh like that.”

“You’re too modest… how am I supposed to seduce you?”

“Perhaps try again in private,” I chastised but he ignored it. 

“Fine. Then I need to go to the bathroom… Come with me?”

“I won’t go anywhere while you’re gone,” I assured.

“Then come with me.”

I glanced over to him exasperated and he returned my gaze with a steadfast determination. 

“Fine,” I agreed at last. He was truly insecure. 

The bathrooms were adorned with marble finishes, dimly lit and clean. I wasn’t paying particular attention when we entered, I expected this wouldn’t take long, and chose a place by the sink to wait, but Eric made no move to leave my side. 

Instead, he briefly checked the stalls before turning back to me, “There’s no one else in here.” 

It was a calm statement. But it was as I opened my mouth to respond that he began pulling my shirt up, untucking it, and unfastening the buttons. “I- what are you doing?”

“This is private enough,” he mused.

His hands traveled up my body and the corners of his mouth pulled into a faint, savage, smile.

“Eric,” I warned sternly.

“Shh~” he silenced me with a kiss. 

My lips parted for him and he pressed closer. Unzipping my pants, he slipped his hand into them as he pushed me back against the basin. My breath caught when he touched me and I reached up to cup his face in my hands. 

“This is a high end- … establishment…” I scolded him lightly between kisses.

“So-... stop me,” he countered.

It was too late for that now… I pushed his shirt off and pulled him closer. It wasn’t like we hadn’t done this in public places before, but perhaps not in one with quite so high of a risk. 

“This is for keeping me safe, and helping me, and loving me…” he breathed, as he knelt and I put my head back. 

He’s far too good at certain things.

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