“Just Grytha,” Hullvardr assured him.
“Yes, quite, but…” Ephraim’s brow furrowed.“She is perhaps… a huldrekalless?”
Ah, Hullvardr thought with a smile.Aloud, he gently replied, “A huldra.”
“A huldra!”Ephraim echoed, beaming anew.His lawyerly mind, Hullvardr had learnt, delighted in precision, and it was doubtless a relief to him to not have to worry he might give offense by applying the wrong title to her.“Just so, thank you.”
Given this, Hullvardr could hardly do otherwise than draw him down for a kiss, which only made him blush all the rosier.
As this scene repeated itself every morning, convalescence gave Hullvardr ample hours in which to reflect.The evidence before him offered but one conclusion.Tending to Hullvardr’s needs and wants brought Ephraim evident joy, a joy which Hullvardr belatedly realised he had denied his mortal lover all this while.He resolved to find a way to continue indulging him in this delight after his own recovery without straining Ephraim’s frail form any further than absolutely necessary.Perhaps it might suffice for Ephraim to gather the tea-tray together each afternoon; Hullvardr baulked at the thought of Ephraim arising before him after he’d healed up.
The only hour in which Ephraim left Hullvardr’s side was dinner.He did so with evident reluctance and could only be convinced he did correctly with ample reassurance from both Hullvardr and Grytha that his fae lover would not perish if left alone.Hullvardr was quite content eating what was left-over after Ephraim ordered double their usual luncheon from the tavern.This did not prevent Ephraim from fussing over him upon his return, oft producing further delicate morsels from his pockets as he did so and apologising profusely for their somewhat crushed state.Hullvardr dutifully accepted them, more out of affection than any hunger, but they suited his palate all the more for the earnest nature of the offering.
Each evening, after dinner, Ephraim slipped into bed beside Hullvardr.At first Ephraim had hesitated to join him abed lest he should stir in his sleep and bring his beloved still greater harm.Hullvardr, however, knew first-hand that Ephraim was a very sound sleeper.Upon hearing this, Ephraim seemed surprised and quietly confided that he had not known this about himself; he hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since university.It was yet another fact of Ephraim’s life offered up casually and with a smile that nonetheless speared Hullvardr’s heart.There were some folk who could dwell quite happily with only themself for company; Hullvardr knew Ephraim was not amongst them, and therefore sat heavy with the conclusion of what quiet lonely agonies his dear man had suffered for decades.
Aloud Hullvardr declared (truthfully) that he would himself sleep far more serenely with Ephraim in his arms.He did not mention that the thought of Ephraim slumbering alone in the garret ignited only despair beneath his breast-bone.He instead poured this feeling into curling his long body around Ephraim’s delicate frame and soaking in the satisfaction of feeling his beloved’s ribcage expanding against his own chest.Ephraim might protect him during the day, but he reserved for himself the pleasure of defending his mortal all through the night.
While they were together and awake, on the hour—regular as the ticking clock itself—Ephraim offered Hullvardr his arm (alongside his crutch) and asked if Hullvardr would do him the honour (Ephraim’s words) of accompanying him on a turn about the room.It was dull enough for an invalid and couldn’t possibly prove any less so for a man with two good legs still under him; and yet as Ephraim’s smile never waned and a genuine spark ignited in his eyes when Hullvardr accepted his invitation, Hullvardr very much feltchosenand stalking the perimeter of the bed-chamber to keep his blood flowing felt somehow like a promenade through Hyde Park.Ephraim’s unstudied charm made Hullvardr desperate to dance with him when he was properly on his hooves again.Perhaps, he hoped, he might coax Ephraim into joining him at Ostara.‘Til now he’d avoided bringing Ephraim to the fae realms lest they overwhelm his mortal beloved’s admittedly-fragile heart.(Hisliteralheart: Hullvardr had felt it flutter out of time beneath his touch more than once and did not dare to test its limits.) The orgies of Midsommar and Mabon were obviously out of the question given how they over-set even the Holly King.Ostara, however, had only dancing, and while Ephraim might not participate in the ceremony himself, surely it could do him no harm to witness it or to twirl on Hullvardr’s arm in their own rite.
Likewise regular as clockwork, before and after every promenade, Ephraim gently laid his silk-crepe fingertips against Hullvardr’s wrist to take his pulse, cross-comparing the result with his pocket-watch and noting it down in his memorandum-book.Grytha had not asked him to do this.Nonetheless he had taken it upon himself to keep track of any potential changes in Hullvardr’s pulse.Perhaps Dr Hitchingham had put the notion in his head.Or perhaps he merely wished to assuage his own concerns.Whatever its source, Hullvardr felt touched by his evident devotion.
Part of Hullvardr—the larger part—was beyond grateful for the dedication shown by his mortal lover.It was a far greater thing than he’d dared to anticipate, and he did not take it lightly.Part of him savoured it, indulging in the simple yet exquisite pleasure of a loved one looking after him.
Another part of him, small but growing louder by the hour, felt guilty.
As dearly as he loved Ephraim and appreciated his efforts, it nonetheless seemed a reversal of all that ought to be.Hullvardr was older, stronger, nimbler, and in every accountable way the one better suited to look after Ephraim.He had entered into his clerkship assuring the Holly King that he would do his utmost to protect and nurture the frail mortal lawyer.And when he’d dared to deepen his clerkship into companionship, he’d made the same vow to himself.Ephraim would want for nothing so long as Hullvardr lived.
And yet here Hullvardr was, laid up and useless whilst his mortal beloved fretted over him.
It wasn’t that Hullvardr had never experienced failure before.One could hardly escape seven centuries without a single mistake.But he’d neverfeltso much a failure as he did now.
Still, it was hardly Ephraim’s fault that his fae protector had failed him, and so Hullvardr swallowed down his pride and wore smiles for his dear mortal.
All the while, his hunger grew.
On the second evening after Hull’s injury, Dr Hitchingham expressed his profound relief at Hull’s absence, that he and his old friend might at last speak freely without curtailing their conversation lest a mere clerk hear more than he ought.As the ensuing conversation deviated not a whit from its usual track, regardless of Hull’s presence or absence, Ephraim set the comment aside on the little shelf in his mind that he reserved for his oldest friend’s oddest remarks.
On the third evening after Hull’s injury, Dr Hitchingham began their dinner in much the same vein, but as the minutes wore on towards the hour mark, he lapsed into a brooding silence more oft than not.Ephraim, concerned for his friend, discreetly-yet-earnestly enquired after what might trouble him, but Dr Hitchingham merely sighed and blamed the fog for aggravating his rheumatism.As Ephraim could do very little about the fog or the rheumatism, he endeavoured to brighten the mood with his own chatter, which seemed to alleviate at least a part of his friend’s unease.
On the fourth evening after Hull’s injury, Dr Hitchingham appeared downright gloomy.
Ephraim gently enquired whether the rheumatism were to blame again.
Dr Hitchingham mulled over his answer for some time.At length he heaved a great sigh and replied, to Ephraim’s astonishment, “Have you any word from Mr Hull?”
“None,” Ephraim lied.“But then again, he can only have just arrived in his homeland, and writing to his employer can hardly be his first priority when he has gone to look after a wounded friend.”
Dr Hitchingham conceded the point with an inarticulate grumble before adding, “You oughtn’t have permitted him to take such a long and sudden holiday.”
“How could I have prevented him?”Ephraim wondered, baffled.Another gentleman might’ve spoken rhetorically.He, however, wished to hear his friend’s answer in earnest, and Dr Hitchingham knew him well enough after their decades together to give a sincere reply.
“By threatening to sack him if he should go,” Dr Hitchingham said decisively.“And by following through on the threat if he still went.”
“My dear fellow, how would that make me any better off?If the threat worked, I would then have a clerk in my employ under duress—and, on top of worrying over his friend, I can scarcely imagine that would improve his performance.If the threat failed, I would permanently lose a most satisfactory assistant; a circumstance which I think we may agree is far worse than merely losing him temporarily by permitting him to go.”
Dr Hitchingham grumbled again.
“I won’t deny his presence is missed,” Ephraim admitted.“But I would hope my more long-standing record has proved to you that I’m capable of looking after myself for a few weeks.I was quite alone for months between Mr Lofthouse and Mr Hull, you recall.”
