Things will never go back to normal, after today.
Alexander has tried countless times to heal his hands—as he always does—yet, even after eating a proper meal and taking a nap, his attempts have proven to be futile.
Yes, the pain that once was has long left him. And, no, he is not crippled across the floor anymore, and concentrated on trying to will away the deep, throbbing ache that had once resided throughout his palms. But there are scars that will not leave. Bad. Deep. Visible burn scars that are now a constant reminder of how long he has been playing with this. Fire.
He regrets it, having ignored this issue of being unable to tame his magic. Perhaps, one could even say Alexander was still in denial; until today, that is.
He is lucky that at least, he has managed to regain sensation in most his fingers, and some of his palms. However, it seems like it may very well be too late, when it comes to the state of his skin.
As Alexander attempts to heal himself once more, David reaches out to him. He wraps his fingers around the young enchanter’s wrist.
The young enchanter pauses to furrowed his brows at David’s sudden touch. He had purposely walked out of the cave again and isolated himself under a large, pine tree, in order to discourage David from being near him whilst he uses magic.
His new bard friend, however, seems to be of the resilient and persevering type. “What are you doing?” Alexander finds himself asking, without giving it much thought. Is David trying to damn them both, like last time?
“I, just…” David sighs. His shoulders deflate. “Sorry,” he admits. “I… I was actually watching you for a while, and I didn’t want to interrupt—scaring you was never my intention. But you looked like you were about to faint, s-so I just had to—”
“I’m fine.” Alexander looks away from him. He bites his lip. “My hands work now, I’ve no need for your assistance any longer.”
“But your magic doesn’t.”
The air is suddenly so silent—so thin—that Alexander is able to hear the wild hissing of mountain spirits, who laugh at the irony of his situation.
Stop mocking me, the young enchanter thinks, in a sudden, angered range, as his hands curl into fists. You need me.
Don’t be rude.
Oddly enough, they do grow quiet. This is by far one of the rarer times, where they have actually bothered to listen. If even these pests, who hold no mortal bodies, can tell that Alexander is unwell, then it is now painfully obvious to the young enchanter, what David must have seen.
Beneath the shade of the ancient tree, Alexander’s head snaps David’s way again. “And what can you do about my magic, David?” he asks the bard. “You are nothing more than a—”
“I could give you a hug?” David frowns. Then shrugs. “What?” he adds. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown two heads?” He pauses again, as he brings a palm to his chin. Terror swims through his gaze. His eyes widen. “Uh, just making sure, but you didn’t accidentally give me a second head during this brief encounter, did you—”
“No, you fool!” Alexander rolls his eyes. His own head finds its resting place between his hands. “No,” he repeats the word; it is a small, muttered statement this time. “I was confused,” he tells David. “I still am.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” The young enchanter’s gaze finds David’s again. “Why in the world would you want to embrace me? I am not that type of man! We’ve barely known each other for a week, don’t you think it is too early for us to—”
“Wait!” David blurts. He waves his hands frantically into the air. “You misunderstand! That’s not what I was referring to!”
To his words, Alexander crosses his arms, then spares David a curious glare. Above them, a small bird flies out of a branch not too far away from their figures. “If you were not speaking of me bedding you, then what—”
The young enchanter stops himself. David’s face has grown beet red, and it is likely that Alexander’s skin is in a similar state, too, for he can feel his neck warm, right up to his ears. “I—” David gulps. “First of all, why would it automatically be you bedding me?” the bard cries, in a scandalized tone. “And s-second, I didn’t mean that at all! I was talking about a hug! N-nothing more, I swear!”
There is a brief moment where both of them fall quiet. Before the sounds of the mountain and riverside have a chance at taking over, though, Alexander mumbles the words, “I still do not think I understand.” His head hangs low. “Forgive me. This is… all a tad new. And a bit… strange, if I am being honest.”
David cringes. Up until now, he had been hunched over to stare down at Alexander. It seems though, that he has finally gotten sick of remaining in this position for so long, because the bard soon drops to his knees, before he sits himself down across the dirtied grass, atop his behind. “Uh…” David rests both his elbows across his thighs. “I mean no offense when I say this, but, have you never been hugged before?”
In response to his question—and, after giving it a bit of thought—the young enchanter shakes his head. “Not as an adult, no. In fact,” Alexander brings a finger to his lips. He stares up at the roof of leaves that gently sway in the wind above their heads. “I do believe the last time I had such an experience, was as a small child. Embracing another…” He squints at the ground, as if that will give him an answer. “Is that not something reserved merely for one’s lover?”
David’s forehead collides with his palms. The bard buries his nose between both of his index fingers. With a groan, he shakes his head. “Oh, crap, I totally understand why you were weirded out, now, if that’s how you think…” He sighs, before looking up, to find Alexander’s gaze again. “Look, I just thought that maybe it would help you feel better. Or, less sad, you know? Or… well,” the bard clears his throat, “I guess you don’t know, my bad. But, um…” David scratches the back of his head. “To keep things simple, let’s just say I wanted to console you… I would have offered to healed you, but I’m not a healer, so this is probably… the best I can do. My apologies for… being so useless.”
“You are not useless.” Alexander blinks. He finds it quite interesting—how this man seems to care so much for his safety and well-being; especially after the endless years of being rejected by his entourage that he was forced to go through, before he finally decided he had enough, and left his village for good.
Well, this is certainly a first, the young enchanter thinks, as he pushes up against the soles of his feet, then stands once more. “We can try.” Alexander cannot say what it is that has compelled him to accept David’s offer. Perhaps, it is how earnest the man’s gaze is. Or, maybe it is the fact that David looks absolutely horrified, and that Alexander would rather get this over with, so that his new comrade does not feel completely rejected for the rest of the night.
David’s shoulders tense. Slowly, he raises his head, then looks up to observe Alexander again.
The bard blinks. He seems… rather stunned by Alexander’s response. “Really? You don’t mind?”
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