Page 15 of The Elves and the Shoemaker (The GriMM Tales #4)

Eleven

Elias

T

hey thanked and bid farewell to the sorcerer and his golden-haired friend in a daze. When they made it back into the forest, Elias could hardly recall how they’d got there.

He had magic back.

Once, back at the textile mill, Elias had dreamed of this very thing.

He’d been free and walking through a meadow filled with wildflowers.

The grass-covered earth beneath his bare feet had felt so incredibly tangible that it had never occurred to him he was dreaming.

Wrists free of magic-suppressing bangles, he’d felt the thrum of magic tingling beneath his skin.

Only now that he could really feel it, did he understand what a poor mimic his imagination had been.

He was also fairly certain that in his dream state he wouldn’t have hot, white pain lancing through his feet with every step.

They took a break a couple of miles from the tower, having all walked in a sort of stunned silence up until that point.

“Pass me your shoes?” Henrik asked both Elias and Johan.

Elias smiled, having a good idea of what Henrik planned to do and kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner.

Henrik accepted Elias’ pair of battered leather boots and clutched them close to his chest before his eyelids fluttered shut. Elias could feel the air shift as Rik used magic for the first time, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

When Henrik finished, Elias beamed. All evidence of where the sole of the boot was beginning to come away after four days of hiking was gone, and Elias knew the moment he slipped them back on his feet they’d feel like walking on clouds.

Confused, Johan frowned but still obliged when Henrik asked him to hand his own boots over.

Henrik worked magic once more, and Johan’s eyes widened like a shocked deer when he slipped his feet back inside. “In-Incredible,” he whispered as he took a few cautionary steps.

Elias took pity on their bewildered shoemaker and explained, “Rik has woven magic into the shoes, which will stop them causing any pain and also allow us to walk much faster.” The small elf wriggled his toes happily in relief.

It could have been the buzz of finally having magic back, or the spell Henrik had put on his shoes, but Elias hopped and skipped along the path with a bounce in every step, no longer weighed down by the burden of having magic constricted.

Even Henrik, whose expression usually appeared as though he’s chewed on a bitter dandelion, had a soft contended smile on his face as they began the long walk back home.

T

hat night, they set up their camp by the river again. While Henrik and Johan built the shelter and the fire, Elias wandered down towards the riverbank, needing a moment alone with his thoughts.

The river was a dark blue, lit up by the silvery reflection of the bright moon that night. It had yet to rain that week, and so the water was slow moving, meandering invitingly past Elias.

He couldn’t fight the temptation to strip off his clothes and immerse himself, cleansing his skin of the dust and sweat from days of walking through the Dark Forest.

“Ahh!” he yelped when he’d waded far enough that the icy water reached his balls.

A few steps farther and it hit his chest, peaking his nipples and stealing his breath all at once.

Goose bumps danced over his arms and legs.

All the fine hairs on his body stood on end and glittered under the moonlight, and Elias twisted his arms in the faint glow to admire the simple beauty of the moment.

It would use too much magic to maintain it for long, but he squeezed his eyes shut and mentally reached into the well of magic at the core of him.

He pictured himself carving some of it out and shaping it into what he needed until it travelled through his body and reached his fingertips.

The moment he released it, the water surrounding him heated up to a more ambient temperature, and he almost sobbed with joy.

From his spot in the river, he remained in full view of Henrik and Johan who were busy tending the fire in the distance, so he turned to face away from them when he could no longer hold in the torrent of emotions that had grown into a volcano that threatened to erupt.

It had been merely a fissure at first, silent tears spilling from his eyes and down his pale cheeks. Only, when he tried to swallow, it was as if a fist squeezed his throat. Even as he desperately tried to push it back down. Push it back inside the locked box he never opened. It was no use.

The noise he emitted was that of an animal injured beyond repair. An anguish no living thing was built to withstand, but he had .

He sobbed for the years he’d lost, the years that access to magic was stolen from him.

He wept for Henrik, knowing he’d suffered as he had.

But the true grief of it all for Elias laid in knowing that while he was free, possibly thousands of his people were not.

They remained chained, magic bound, and maybe would never swim naked in a river with magic thrumming through their veins ever again.

Elias had been so lost in his pain that he was startled when slim, pale arms wrapped around his middle and held him.

“Shhh. You’re okay,” Henrik soothed. “We are okay.”

Elias couldn’t find the words to explain to Henrik why that was the problem.

Why it hurt so much. He expected to see nothing but happiness in Henrik’s eyes, but when he twisted to face his lover and glanced up, it was all written there.

He did understand. Because in those amber eyes he loved so much, a tornado of relief, hope, and joy swirled paradoxically with grief, regret, and despair.

They just held each other in the water until Elias’ energy began to wane and the temperature of the water dropped low enough that their teeth were chattering.

Together they waded back to the riverbank and clambered out.

Patiently waiting for them was Johan, carrying the large wool blanket, which he wrapped around their naked shoulders.

Elias smiled weakly at him, exhausted from the outpouring of emotions, and it surprised him when Johan cupped his face and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

The two elves settled themselves in front of the heat of the fire while Johan busied himself with boiling water for some hot tea to warm them up.

Elias felt raw and flayed open, and yet, for the first time in his life, he felt that, between Henrik and Johan, he would be cared for and be safe. And that was no small thing.

T

he remainder of their trip home had been uneventful in the best way.

It had been filled with gentle smiles, harmless ribbing, and singing by the fire in the evenings.

Despite Elias’ boots being enhanced by magic, the walk was still long and arduous, and he was tired down to his bones by the time they stepped foot into the familiar comfort of Johan’s shoe shop.

Elias was too exhausted to address it, but he was almost bereft as he watched Johan’s retreating back when they parted ways to go to their respective beds that night. It felt wrong.

There was no fighting sleep that night, though. Elias had barely hit the mattress when his eyelids fluttered closed and he slipped into a deep slumber.

The next morning, the elves lay side by side in companionable silence. Elias had woken with a busy brain as he tried to process what it meant to have regained magic and to finally have found freedom.

Eventually, Henrik cut through the silence by whispering, “Eli, there’s something I must confess to you. Only, I’m scared you will hate me, and I couldn’t bear that.”

Despite his empty stomach, Elias suddenly felt quite sick, but Henrik only clung to him more tightly. He fought back against the icy dread that tried to spread through him.

“Wh-what is it?” Elias forced out, knowing that delaying whatever Henrik had to tell him would only drag out his suffering.

“Can I ask you a question first?”

Elias didn’t like that one bit, preferring Henrik get to the point, but he managed to say, “Okay…”

“Do you think it’s possible to… to love… more than one person?”

Elias was surprised to find that Henrik’s question melted away most of the panic that had been churning in his stomach.

He’d seen how Henrik and Johan looked at one another, and he would be a liar if he didn’t at least admit to himself that he’d also been admiring Johan.

Had in fact bloomed under the shoemaker’s warmth.

Johan was… steady. And solid. In a way that Elias and Henrik were not.

Elias often felt like the two of them were feathers that might lose each other if a strong wind blew them up into the sky.

But with Johan, it was like he’d safely store the feathers in his pocket, and Elias didn’t have to worry about any of them getting lost. Because Johan looked after his belongings, he wouldn’t misplace them or treat them as replaceable.

“Eli?” Emotion laced Henrik’s voice, and Elias realised he’d been lost in his thoughts for too long.

“I think Johan is hard not to love,” Elias answered.

Henrik audibly inhaled, evidently shocked by the response. “How—how did you… how?” he stammered.

Elias turned to face him. It was still predawn and so dim in the workshop that he could make out little except for his lover’s eyes. He reached out and found Henrik’s hair, tucking the long strands behind his ear before cupping his cheek.

“I love you, Rik. Too much, I think sometimes. But… you and Johan understand each other in a way that you and I do not.” Henrik opened his mouth to interrupt him, but Elias continued on.

“We’ve been through too much, and we lean on one another even when the other cannot bear the weight.

But Johan can bear our weight… I think.”

“You feel for him, too?” Henrik whispered.

“I… When I really consider it, I suppose that I do, yes. He is attractive in a rugged sort of way, but I don’t think that’s it.

He makes me feel like I could launch every disastrous, broken part of me at him and he would…

treasure it all. Take care of it all. It doesn’t lessen what I feel for you. It’s just different, I think.”

Henrik lowered his gaze like eye contact with Elias just then was painful.

“I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to bear the weight for you, Eli.

I wish so much that I could. But… these last few years have changed me.

I fear I won’t ever be truly strong again.

” Henrik’s voice cracked with emotion, and Elias wrapped his arms tightly around him.

“Maybe we won’t have to be. Maybe we just need someone else to share the burden.”

“What if Johan doesn’t care for us, the way we care for him?”

Elias pondered that thought for a while, letting ideas seed and sprout in his mind.

“I think we just have to show him what we can offer him in return. Show him what it means to be loved by an elf. There are two of us after all, that’s a lot of love to give, Rik.”

“Johan would be lucky to be loved by you, Eli. I know that I am.”

Elias kissed him and poured his heart into it all the while his brain began buzzing with plans and ideas for how they could woo their lovely, big, and strong shoemaker.