The crackling fireplace throws warm shadows along the walls, providing a gentle backdrop to their cozy situation, as Therios dozes and Vanth reads, eyes firmly trained on the paper. He does not dare look up, for all that he knows the words by heart.

“A little of it, taken with as much as a grain of ervum, is a pain-easer, a sleep-causer, and a digester, helping coughs and abdominal cavity afflictions.”

He turns a yellowed page, “Taken as a drink too often it hurts, making men lethargic, and it kills.”

“Cheerful,” Therios sleepily mumbles.

“It’s a medical text,” Vanth says shortly.

“I admit, when I conceived this notion, I had imagined the text to be a bit more…romantic.”

Therios reaches out and traces along the edge of a book spine, coming closer and closer to where Vanth holds De Materia Medica, currently flipped open to the entry for poppy.

“I didn’t have much time to prepare before I fled here. I grabbed whatever I could carry, whatever I thought would be useful for a life far away from everyone else. I’m sorry I didn’t think of grabbing reading material to suit your taste.”

Therios ignores the barb.

“So, this is not your castle?”

“No, it was abandoned. I’ve brought it back to life, so to speak.”

Therios’s voice is deep and soft when he asks, “What were you running from?”

His hand has finished its trek across the tray of books, and his fingers gently brush against the back of Vanth’s wrist. He doesn’t take Vanth’s hand, he isn’t that forward, but he rests his palm on the tray next to Vanth’s as if teasing that they could be holding hands. Swallowing hard, Vanth risks a glance upwards. Therios is very handsome in the firelight. His expression is as soft as his voice, sleepy and open and curious.

“I know what you’re doing,” Vanth says quietly.

“Listening to you read?” Therios smiles, amused.

“You won’t charm me into letting you go.”

“Are you always so suspicious?”

Vanth scoots back, “I’ve had to be, and trust me, I know the game you’re playing.”

Therios rubs at his eyes, shoulders drooping.

“I’m a cheerful man by nature. I’m not the type to stew in misery, as you seem to enjoy doing. I’m just trying to get along.”

He spreads his arms wide, smile back in place, strained and sheepish.

“Though you’ve kept me here against my will, you don’t seem to mean me any ill will. You’ve given me some fine lodgings, servants to wait on me hand and foot, and whatever food I desire. Talk about playing games: you won’t let me leave, yet you treat me like I’m a visiting royal! So, I’ve decided to make the best of it. Nothing wrong with being friendly. Unless you’d prefer me to be mean?”

His smile is crafty now, teasing, but in a gentle way that Vanth’s never experienced.

“We can be…friendly,” Vanth says slowly.

He’s never had a human friend before.

Therios chuckles, rolls onto his side with difficulty, and then says, “Excellent! Now, your books are very educational, but how about a ballad?”

“I don’t know any.”

“That’s quite all right, I know plenty.”

Vanth braces himself for something bawdy, but instead Therios begins to hum so low that Vanth feels the vibrations in his heart. When he sings, it’s slow and ponderous; his words paint a portrait of a forgotten miner, trapped in caverns so deep that light cannot reach them. Oh, the wonders he found in the depths below: moss like jewels, diamonds as large as his hand, pools of clear water filled with glimmering crystal. Oh, the wonders he found there, and oh how he mourned, for he was unable to escape and share his treasure with his family.

Somewhere around the twelfth stanza, Vanth’s eyes slip closed, and he dreams of the poor miner, entombed in a cavern deep, finally free from his overseers and backbreaking toil, but imprisoned all the same.