Page 7 of The Elves and the Shoemaker (The GriMM Tales #4)

Six

Elias

E

lias’ cheeks bloomed with embarrassment, but he had no reason to be. It wasn’t as though he’d chosen to be starved for however long he’d endured this hunger for. “I enjoy the taste, though,” he added.

“Why?” Johan coughed and pointed at Elias. “Longer?” he asked, and it looked like a strain for him to force the words past his lips, more so than usual.

“I wasn’t taken like Rik was. My family was extremely poor, and so they sold me.

” Elias gulped, trying to force down the pain that spread like a poison to his heart at the memory of his parents standing at the door of their small hut while a slaver dragged him down the path as he kicked, screamed, and begged them to reconsider to no avail.

While his big brother, Bjorn, had wept silently in the window, and the neighbours he’d known his entire life, looked the other way.

Discovering you were disposable was a degree of anguish that Elias didn’t wish upon anyone.

“I spent my first few years enslaved in a factory that made offensively ugly clothes,” Elias joked to try to lighten the tale where he could.

“Through nothing but sheer dumb luck, I was bathing in the outhouse when one of the other captured elves found a way to set a fire in the factory. The entire place went up in flames at a speed I didn’t know was possible, but it killed almost everyone inside. ”

Elias nearly gagged and had to put down his food as the story of his past unearthed the memory of that smell—the stench of burning flesh as he watched from outside, unable to do a single thing to help.

Even still, sometimes he would close his eyes, and the light from the flames would dance behind his eyelids, haunting him in his dreams.

“Anyway, a handful of us survived, and the owner’s son sold us on as the factory was too destroyed to repair. Fortunately for me,” Elias grinned. “I was bought by the owner of a silk textile mill.”

“Fortunately? You cannot be sound of mind, Eli, to consider that turn of events fortunate.” Henrik shook his head in disbelief.

“Well, on the bright side, my talents were finally being put to better use, and… there is the small matter that I met you, Henrik. I do not regret my time at the mill.”

Elias could tell that Henrik didn’t know what to say or where to even look in response to that.

He also knew that Henrik didn’t necessarily feel the same way.

Which was okay. He couldn’t hold it against Henrik that, given the choice, he wouldn’t have been enslaved and therefore never would have met Elias.

Okay, maybe it stung Elias a little, but he knew it wasn’t rational.

“And that, is the cheery tale of how I ended up a sack of bones with the appetite of a baby bird.”

Neither of them even cracked a smile, and Elias once again had the sinking feeling that he’d missed the mark with his sense of humour.

Henrik turned to look out of the window, his jaw tense and his lips tightly pressed together.

Johan, however, reached across the table and took Elias’ hand between both of his and stared into his eyes with an intensity that did something weird to Elias’ stomach.

Without any words at all, Johan’s eyes managed to say, I’m so sorry that happened to you .

And, more to Elias’ surprise, I will never let that happen to you again.

“Thank you,” Elias said quietly, no longer pretending to be so jovial about the worst years of his existence.

The rest of their lunch was quiet and a little awkward, but Elias felt lighter for having shared his story with Johan.

Later in the afternoon, Elias joined Johan in the shop as he continued whittling his elf figurine.

Only, Elias couldn’t help but take the carving and began including more intricate details, making the elf look almost the spitting image of Henrik.

He made the long-pointed ears smoother, the elf’s nose and chin a little sharper.

Elias enjoyed the juxtaposition of Henrik having a slightly severe, sometimes harsh-looking face with such a soft, timid heart beneath.

They sold only one pair of shoes that day, but they were a large pair of leather boots—one of the more expensive items for sale, Elias noted—to Willhelm, the local blacksmith.

When Willhelm had entered the shop, Henrik had scurried off into the back, but Elias had remained out front, curious about how Johan sold shoes to customers without his voice.

It turned out to be a good thing, too, because evidently it was a significant struggle for Johan, so Elias stepped in and answered Willhelm’s questions, putting his charming personality to good use.

Elias could tell from Johan’s soft smile that he was grateful for the assistance, and it made Elias feel like he actually had something to offer the shoemaker in return.

That night, once the three of them had eaten their evening meal together and Johan had left them for the night, the two elves returned to the bundle of clothes and the sewing kit.

They quickly set to work using a few of the softer cotton items to make themselves some simple shirts and shorts to sleep in at night.

“We could embroider some flowers onto the shirts?” Elias suggested.

Henrik gave him an exasperated look. “Not everything needs to be a work of art, Eli. These are just for us to sleep in. We are the only ones who will even see them.”

“What is wrong with wanting to look good for each other?” Elias asked, already retrieving the thicker threads from the sewing kit and going ahead with the embroidery regardless of Henrik’s sour mood.

“Fine. Do as you please. I don’t know why you bothered to ask me.”

“Be careful, Rik. One day the wind will change, and you’ll be stuck looking like you’re sucking on a lemon for the rest of your life.

And what a shame that would be because you’re quite stunning when you forget to scowl for a moment,” Elias said as he began using a black thread to create a sprig of heather over the chest pocket of the shirt.

Henrik huffed, blushing in embarrassment, Elias presumed. Despite the drastic turn in fortune for the two of them, Henrik seemed as miserable as he had been in the mill, and it infuriated Elias. What would it take for Henrik to be happy, he wondered?

They continued in silence after that, but Henrik waved the white flag first by passing his own garments to Elias so he could create similar patterns with the threads. Elias smiled smugly.

When they climbed into bed that night, with food in their stomachs, their own nightclothes, and a warm blanket, Elias realised he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy and content.

He snuggled into Henrik, who pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

For once, the fire that burned between them didn’t feel rooted in a fear that it could be their final night.

It felt to Elias like it came from a place deep within him, a place of want.

Elias brushed his lips in a featherlight touch to Henrik’s, at first, letting their breaths mingle and the heat build.

He luxuriated in the freedom to take his time, to savour the sweet taste of Henrik’s mouth.

The larger elf’s wandering hands teased Elias under his nightshirt, stroking the sensitive parts of his skin, over his peaked nipples and down his ribcage.

Elias shivered, but for once it wasn’t from the cold.

Over the teasing, Elias passionately kissed Henrik, who opened his mouth wider, letting Elias press in with his tongue and tangle them together.

Elias was so stiff and aroused his hips moved of their own accord, pushing his groin against Henrik’s and groaning at the sweet friction against his already aching cock.

Henrik tugged down both their shorts and took—in Elias’ opinion—his sweet time removing their shirts.

But once they were skin on skin, all was forgiven.

Elias would freeze time in these moments if he could.

The intimacy of nothing between them, every bead of sweat shared, not even a breath of space separating them, it was what he longed for, eased the ache of loneliness and abandonment that Elias carried with him.

Henrik flipped Elias onto his back, and for a moment, Elias wondered if Henrik planned to enter him. Unfortunately for Elias, neither of them had been brave enough to sneak off with some of the butter from lunch, so they would have to forgo that for now.

Desire flooded Elias as Henrik loomed over him, kissing him hard and rutting against him.

The feel of their cocks rubbing against one another as precum leaked from them both was enough to completely shut off Elias’ brain.

He wrapped his legs around Henrik’s waist, chasing all the friction he could get.

They both moaned, and probably not as quietly as they should with Johan upstairs and not wanting to get caught.

Well, mostly didn’t wish to get caught. Elias couldn’t deny that it was a little thrilling to think of Johan hearing them down here.

When he got really excited, Elias could picture Johan walking in on them, hardening at the vision before him.

Maybe he would reach into his breeches and tug on himself a little for relief.

He might lick his lips and step closer, the need to see them overpowering propriety.

Elias whimpered, reaching down and rubbing the skin behind Henrik’s sack, causing him to buck even harder than before.

Gripping Henrik’s hips, Elias tugged him as close as he could, getting the pressure he needed to find his release, and he’d never felt so alive.

Henrik let go like he hadn’t ever before.

He rutted against Elias with an energy and passion Elias hadn’t seen in him until now, and it was as though Elias was feeding off it.