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Imprint - 14. Ch. 3 Part V
V
Tallen was pressed tightly to his side, at some point the boy had grabbed on to his hand and was clinging hard, grinding his fingers together. Tallen's head kept turning, side to side, front and back, every time someone moved near them, passed them by, spoke too loudly. He could feel the other boy's anxiety, it was suffocating.
He leaned forward so he could speak right in his ear. “You okay?”
Tallen whipped around, pine green eyes wide and frightened, “There are too many people here.”
Tallen never did like coming to the city, of course the city during their new year's celebration would be worse; Tallen had begged to be left at the compound, but everyone else was going so it wasn't an option.
He nodded in sympathy, “I had to come last year,” he said, “I didn't like it either. Spent the whole night hiding.”
“I like hiding,” Tallen said, “Can we hide somewhere?”
“Okay,” he said, “Let's get food first.” He turned, trying to peer through the sea of much taller people to spot where the banquet tables were set up.
It was slow going getting over there, trying not to bump into anyone, trying not to get overwhelmed by the crowd. Tallen insisted on standing back and waiting until the couple of people at the tables moved away before darting forward and piling food on a pair of plates.
“Where are we going to hide?” Tallen asked him.
He thought about it. “Last time I used a ladder to climb on top of one of the stores, so I could still watch. The priest will be out later, there's a ritual and dancing and stuff.”
“Okay, that sounds...good,” Tallen was looking warily around them, his eyes wandering aimlessly up where they paused for some time. The corner of his lip twitched in what might have been an attempted smile.
He waited patiently for Tallen's gaze to swing back in his direction. “I remember those,” he said, pointing. He saw a bundle of herbs, thick pale green leaves and small purple blossoms, woven together in a circle and dangling over their heads from a tree branch, tied with a thin strip of pink cloth.
“We had those at our new years day, too,” Tallen continued, “It was...um, what was it? Rinn's crown, I think. For luck.”
The name sparked a vague sense of recognition; he nodded his head.
“I know how they work,” he realized Tallen was blushing faintly, his eyes turned shyly down, “what you're supposed to do.”
“What?” he asked.
Tallen's cheeks were very red, his scars near purple, “You want me to show you?”
“Okay.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
Tallen looked at him a moment, considering, before leaning much closer very quickly. He felt the other boy's lips pressed against his own, soft and brief, before Tallen pulled away again, mumbling, “Happy new year.”
“You're not supposed to do that.”
He near winced hearing that voice, something he was growing to resent with the trouble it brought. Tallen's mouth curled into a sneer, shedding that shyness and drawing himself up before turning to face Zane.
“What do you want?” he noticed Tallen taking half a step left to subtly block him from view.
Zane had his arms folded across his chest, a confused scowl on his face; four year old Tala was standing next to him, oblivious to the tension and eying the fruit platters on the table behind them. “Boys don't kiss boys,” he stated matter of factly.
Tallen's eyebrows lowered, “Yes they do.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Yeah.”
“No one here does.”
“So what?”
“In books they kiss ladies and princesses and faeries and stuff.”
Tallen blinked in confusion, shaking his head, “Gods, you're stupid.”
“Am not.”
“Stupid.”
“Shut up, Tallen.”
“Stupid little child.”
“You're a year older than me.”
“At least I know not to believe everything I read. Stupid.”
Zane's lips curled in an uncharacteristically vicious sneer, “At least I can read.”
Anger flashed through Tallen's eyes, he ground his teeth together, “At least I don't have dried up come for brains.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Come over here, I'll show you.”
Zane glared at him a moment, considering a reply, before shaking his head. “Whatever, this is stupid,” he turned his attention to the girl at his side, “Come on, Tala.”
The little girl happily made her way past them all to those much wanted treats; Zane walked more carefully around Tallen, the two glaring heatedly at each other. The expression slipped away when Zane came to a stop in front of him; sensing his disapproval he turned apologetic, shrugged a shoulder, “Sorry.”
He made himself speak, “I wish...you wouldn't.”
“I know,” it was hardly a promise it wouldn't happen again, but they both knew such an oath was meaningless; they were getting worse and their shared concern for his feelings only seemed to spark their rivalry rather than reign it in.
Zane's eyes glanced up at the spring crown above their heads, looking back at him with a shy smile. “Happy new year, Frost,” he hesitated just a moment before Zane also leaned closer to offer him a very brief kiss.
He just had time to register the look of murderous rage on Tallen's face; before he could even start to think of what to say Zane was gone from the spot in front of him, crashing on top of the table which immediately buckled under the assault, everything falling to the ground. The thud and clatter of breaking glass was very loud in the sudden silence that surrounded them.
Zane tried to crawl away from the mess, food in his hair, on his hands; Tallen rushed forward to kick him in the ribs before dropping down on the boy's back. “You stay there!” He put a hand on the back of Zane's head, pushing, grinding his face in the dirt, “You stay on the ground where I put you!” There were a few people that made a move to break up the exchange, until they saw who it was and reluctantly stopped; a murmur started through the crowd, the now circle of uneasy onlookers, spreading like a wave, out and away.
He felt a sudden touch on his arm, reflexively jerking away from it. The girl, Tala, who had clung to him as the nearest non threatening person, shot him a look of such hurt he wondered if he should feel guilty for shoving her off, but he couldn't handle that now. He opened his mouth but no sound would come out; he wanted to move, intervene, but couldn't.
Tallen's hands were around Zane's throat, “I'll kill you,” alternating between squeezing and beating Zane's head into the ground, “Little bitch, I'll kill you for touching him!” Red faced, green eyes narrowed, teeth bared, he looked like he meant that.
The murmur through the crowd rippled back toward the center and Elleth appeared, pushing her way out with Dalan close behind. “What is going on here?”
Tallen jumped off Zane instantly, backing cautiously away; arms around himself and head lowered, he watched the scene apprehensively. For once Tallen's fear was easily felt, it pained him to see, more that there was nothing he could do for him now.
Elleth pulled Zane to his feet, holding him steady as the boy doubled over, coughing violently. His face was a mess of food, dirt and blood, all of which he was also spitting up in alarming amounts. He glared at Tallen through angry tears, “You're crazy!” he choked out, half hysterical.
Tallen likely didn't notice the remark, he was entirely focused on Elleth; every muscle pulled so tight he trembled.
Zane was passed off to Dalan who, with a moment of silent communication with Elleth, took the screaming boy away. She looked helplessly around the crowd, equal parts question and apology; she seemed to have aged years in just that one moment while they all stood witness. It was Tala who broke the spell, rushing forward into the arms of someone who wouldn't push her away.
Elleth scooped the girl up, giving her a hug while visibly forcing the comforting motherly expression back on her face. “What's wrong, dear? What happened here, you know?”
Safety restored, Tala's mood quickly brightened some, “Zane took me to get some fruit and those two were kissing and Zane said they couldn't do that because they're boys, Tallen said they could and Zane was stupid and Zane said he wasn't because he could read, and Tallen said to come show him. But then Zane kissed Frost and Tallen said he couldn't, so do boys kiss boys?”
“Children don't kiss anyone,” Elleth promptly responded, her eyes glancing up to see the herbal crown in the tree, “Some luck's not meant you for.” He saw Tallen flinch, green eyes widening in shock.
Tala shrugged, entirely unconcerned, “Okay,” she said, “Is Zane okay?”
“Zane will be well enough, but I think you're going to have to find someone else to play with for now.”
“Okay. Can we go look for-”
“I didn't hurt him,” It was a clear effort for Tallen to speak and he couldn't manage any real force or volume; he kept his head raised, made himself meet her eyes, his hands had both curled into fists.
Elleth looked at him with exasperation, carefully putting Tala down before responding, “Oh yes you did, Tallen, and you know you did. I don't know what it is between you two but it has to stop, you've gone too far this time-”
“I didn't hurt him,” Tallen insisted, “I wouldn't – wouldn't do that, don't say I did.”
“Then what did you think you were doing with him? When you-”
“Just ask him!” And Tallen pointed but not in the direction Zane went, Tallen pointed at him. “Ask him, he's not hurt, I didn't do anything!” his protests had turned desperate, “Don't say I did something I didn't do!”
He saw Elleth's eyes widen as she put it together, realized what she'd said. Watched her anger give way to compassion, stepping quickly toward the boy with a gentle outstretched hand, “Oh Tallen, sweetie, I didn't-” and forgetting why should couldn't do that.
“Don't touch me!” Tallen didn't try to back away, just hunched forward, bracing himself, hands on his head, fingers digging roughly into his scalp, pulling at his hair.
He couldn't remember ever feeling so helpless, so frustrated with himself and his own limitations; he should be over there, he should be doing something, he was the only one who could. But everyone was staring, everybody had heard that scream and the silence that followed was near complete.
Elleth was on her knees in front of the boy, as close as she dared come, hands carefully placed in her lap. “Breathe, Tallen,” she spoke quietly, calmly, “You have to breathe, dear. Calm down, you're okay, just breathe.” Tallen was, deep shuddering breaths that shook his body, beating his panic back down. His fingers unwound from his hair and he raised his head out of his hands; red faced and disheveled, he appeared in control again, green eyes watching Elleth warily from just over his still raised fists.
She tried again, “Tallen, I didn't mean it that way, I didn't mean to say you'd – done, anything wrong. Not like – not like you think. Just that,” she started raising a hand, reaching for him again, unable to help the instinct; on occasion Tallen even allowed it if he could see it coming, if it didn't last long, but he was not in the right mood now. He flinched and she quickly lowered her hand again. “I only meant that...some things, you're too young for, things like – that's all I meant.”
Tallen stared back, face blank. “No, I'm not.”
Elleth closed her eyes, looking pained, taking a deep breath as she considered her response. “Perhaps...but don't you think Frost is?”
Tallen looked surprised to hear that, turning his head away, eyes seeking out and finding him. He met Tallen's searching gaze, unsure what he was supposed to be communicating; sympathy, support, trust, a strong desire to leave, abandon the crowd and be alone together, now more than before. He tried.
Green eyes remained fixed on him, Tallen's features relaxed further. “You don't have to worry about him,” he said, “He's got me. Anyone touches him again, I'll protect him. Won't let nothing happen.”
Again Elleth's eyes widened and she clearly regretted her words, “No, Tallen, I didn't mean to suggest that Zane had-”
But Tallen casually brushed her aside, stepping away and walking toward where he stood. Tallen held out a hand, “I want to go,” he said, “You come with me?”
Elleth was scrambling to her feet, “No, wait, I don't-”
He placed his hand in Tallen's, who grabbed on tight and tugged him forward.
“Stop, both of you. I don't want you going any-”
“Too bad,” Tallen rounded on her, glaring defiantly, standing half in front of him and squeezing his hand, “We didn't want to come in the first place and we're not staying.”
“You can run off if you want,” Elleth tried, “Frost stays here.”
Tallen shook his head, pulling him closer, “I'm not leaving him. He doesn't want me to, Frost wants to come with me.” Glancing over his shoulder, “Right?” and he nodded confirmation.
“I didn't ask what either of you wanted-” Elleth began, trying again, trying to sound firm and in control, but Tallen just mockingly snorted at her.
“People like you never do,” and Tallen pushed past her and through the unresisting crowd at a full run, dragging him along behind.
They perched on the roof of a clothing store, watching over the edge as the ritual went on just slightly behind schedule. The local priest offered blessings, public use aether stones were renewed, the true celebration began. Music could only be faintly heard from where they were, it had to be mostly imagined watching the patterns of movement in the dancers below. He enjoyed things more this way, at a distance, observing, it felt more natural to him. He spotted Zane down below, returned, cleaned up and looking much less shaken, being dragged into a dance by Tala who had been so relieved to see him she hadn't wanted to let him go; the boy looked to be having a good time in spite of half hearted protests, he was glad to see it.
“We used to have something like this, back at home,” Tallen spoke quietly beside him, “It was different, though. It wasn't about the land for us, it was the sea. Blessed the water for fish and the boats to not sink. If someone wanted something to happen in the next year, if they wanted extra luck or something, they'd jump off the dock into the ocean, and it was always really cold then so they'd have to really want it bad for that. We didn't dance but anyone who wanted to could play something, with all the visitors that were always there, we could sit and hear foreign music.” He smiled slightly, “And my father would give me and my sister a piece of sea glass that we were supposed to keep. It was a family tradition and when we came of age we'd do something with it, but I didn't know what and – well, guess I won't know now.”
(there were no celebrations I remember, back home...it was a day of work...)
“Sounds nice,” he mumbled absently, folding his arms over his knees and resting his head atop them; it was late now and the day had been long, catching up to him quickly.
“Hey Frost, watch this.”
He glanced over to see Tallen pull a single cigarette out of his pocket; he frowned, “Where did you get that?”
“Dalan.”
“Dalan gave it to you?”
“No. He keeps them in his coat, I take one whenever he comes over.”
“Elleth will be mad if she sees you.”
“That's why I don't let her see me,” he put the cigarette between his lips, “Now watch.” Green eyes focused down at the end of the cigarette, almost glaring; a small flame shot up there, igniting herb and paper before dimming down to a faint orange glow. Tallen inhaled deeply, watching him with a proud smile.
He was impressed. “Wow, you're getting really good at that.”
Tallen blew out a series of smoke rings, much to his delight. “I've been practicing.”
“By yourself?”
“Just this part,” Tallen smiled shyly, “I wanted to surprise you.”
He smiled back, “Its good.”
“I think its easier for me because I actually want it to do something – something specific, you know, instead of just, like, burning. You know?” More smoke rings blew into the air, “I still almost lit my hair on fire first few times I tried.”
“How do you do that?” he reached out and touched a finger to one of the dissolving rings, making it break apart and fade away.
Tallen shrugged uncomfortably, “Figured it out. Not that hard.”
“While you were practicing?”
“...no. I knew how.”
Sensing the shift in mood and not wishing to upset, he smiled softly, “I like it.”
“Yeah?” Three more rings formed. He smiled again, settling back to watch the smoke drifting away.
(peace...quiet...candlelight, incense and murmured voices)
(the light of a sacred flame reflected in young green eyes, small hands held out just at the edge of the intense heat)
(“Do they need it because they're cold?”)
(laughter, “I don't think so, honey.”)
“Frost?” Tallen's voice was low, solemn; he turned his head to meet the boy's serious gaze, “I didn't hurt you, did I?”
He frowned, “When?”
“Before,” Tallen mumbled, “I know I said I didn't, but...I really didn't, right?”
Confused, he shook his head, “No.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“You'd tell me, right?”
Nodded again.
Tallen seemed satisfied, even relieved; he went back to resting his head, closing his eyes.
“...did you like it?”
He looked up again, “Huh?”
Tallen was watching him, his previous shyness gone, what was left of his cigarette held between two fingers. “Did you like it?”
He nodded, “Sure.”
Tallen smiled, eyes moving away, taking one last pull of his cigarette before dropping it down over the edge. He lowered his head again.
“Hey, Frost?”
That was spoken near his ear; he lifted his head to find Tallen had moved very close to him, that he himself was leaning now against the other boy. He didn't remember that and wondered if he had drifted off. He twisted his head around to meet Tallen's eyes, making a soft, questioning noise.
Tallen leaned forward and pressed his lips to his own. Last time it had been quick, a shy hard peck, there and done; this was more gentle, lingering, his mouth soft, moving tentatively against his own, exploring. He tasted like smoke and spice; it was interesting, it was nice.
His face was very red when he pulled back again. “Happy new year.”
He flipped over on to his back, squirming as close to the edge of the bed as he could. The wind charged aether stone was not producing anywhere near enough of a breeze to combat the humid summer heat.
Of course the warm bundle at his side, taking up the other half of the bed, wasn't helping matters.
“What's wrong?” that blond head poked out of its cocoon of blankets; Tallen likewise seems more conscious than he should be at this time of night.
“Can't sleep,” he answered, “I'm hot.”
An arm poked out of the blankets, Tallen propped his head up, green eyes watching him in the dark, “You're always hot.”
He glared half heartedly, “You never are.”
“I never said that.”
“You're always wrapped up.”
“...doesn't mean I'm not.”
He was confused but didn't question further. Raising his arm he tried to feel for the breeze, tried to feel relief but it wasn't enough, wasn't ever enough. Tallen's presence was always more comfort than burden and the other boy couldn't sleep alone anyway, so he didn't consider escape to the room's unused second bed. Instead he pulled the thin t-shirt over his head and rolled onto his side, hanging half off the bed, trying for rest.
He felt Tallen's hand on his shoulder, very warm, gently pulling, coaxing him to return to his back. The other boy was entirely out of his cocoon, sitting up and hovering over him, reaching out with hesitant fingers to brush along his chest. “What's this?” his voice was a whisper.
He blinked, confused, “What?”
The feather light touch curved around, moved down toward his side, “What happened?”
He moved his own hand to touch the zig zag of jagged skin on his upper body; he hadn't realized that was what Tallen was talking about, it wasn't something he ever thought of. “Nothing.”
Tallen was skeptical, “It was something.”
Half shrugging, he corrected, “I don't remember.”
Tallen frowned, “How do you not remember?” He was running his fingers back and forth over the scar line, putting a little more force behind the touch when he received no resistance.
He gave another half shrug, “Long time ago,” he said, “Before I came here.”
It wasn't just fingers now but Tallen's whole hand, rubbing gently over his chest, comforting and soothing, “Did it hurt?”
A third shrug, “I don't know. Probably.” He looked up at Tallen's troubled face, “I never think about it.”
A long pause, almost reluctant, “...I would.”
He considered that, “It bothers you?”
“That someone hurt you.”
“Its okay.”
“No, its not,” a hesitation and Tallen leaned forward over him; he felt the boy's lips press gently to the jagged scar tissue before resting his head against him. He raised a hand and put his arm around Tallen, running tentative fingers through short blond hair. He wondered if Tallen planned to sleep there; he wondered how he could convince the boy to move over.
After a minute Tallen sat up again abruptly, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him up as well. Tired he obeyed, blinking at Tallen in question. But the boy just sat there quietly, watching him warily; he realized Tallen was afraid and he didn't know why. “Can I show you something?”
He nodded.
“Promise you won't tell anyone?”
He paused at that but nodded, worried where this was going.
Tallen didn't move at first, sitting still with his head down, fingers picking nervously at the edge of his discarded blanket. He could feel his own tension mounting and wondered if he should do something, say something, reach out and touch in a show of support; he was frozen in uncertainty. Tallen took a deep breath, gathering his resolve, bracing himself, before he too pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall from his fingers to the floor.
He hadn't seen Tallen without it before, something he hadn't taken conscious note of until now; with the ocean so close by and the water usually tolerably warm, people casually stripping down to near nothing to jump in and cool down, he had learned to take it for granted and pay little mind, but Tallen had never joined in on that, did he? Now he could see why. A shocked sound tried to worm its way up his throat and he swallowed it back down; he wanted to reach out but wasn't sure if he should, tracing along with his eyes, trying to take it all in.
“What happened?”
Tallen wasn't looking at him, his eyes turned away. “Don't know,” his voice was hollow, “don't remember either.”
“You don't?”
“I don't – didn't forget,” Tallen's hands rested at his sides, gripping the sheets tightly, “It was just...a lot, all the time. I was always hurt. I don't remember it all.”
He put his hand on Tallen's knee, staring in confusion, trying to understand. “Someone did this to you?”
A tear slipped out of Tallen's eye; he watched in what little light there was as it rolled down his face, over the pink-purple swollen ropey scar that marred his cheek. “Its ugly.”
He shook his head, inching closer, moving his hand up Tallen's thigh, “No, you're not – not true.” It wasn't, he didn't think so.
“It is, they made me ugly,” another tear dripped down his face, Tallen was biting at his lip almost hard enough to bleed. “So everyone knows and no one will want me.”
He shook his head again, fingers squeezing Tallen's leg, working to ignore the criss cross of cuts and cigarette burns he could feel on the boy's inner thigh; trying to understand.
Green eyes reluctantly met his own, lip quivering, “Please don't tell anyone, Frost. I don't want them to know, that I look – look like...”
The spell broke and he grabbed hold of Tallen, pulling him close and pushing his head down against his shoulder. It didn't help the heat, but that didn't matter now. His moved his fingers through the boy's sweaty hair, wrapping his other arm around his shoulders; he might have expected sobbing to judge from the way other children acted but it didn't come, even Tallen's tears had stopped. Tallen's arms wound around him, tentative at first but quickly tightening, fingers gently stroking his skin.
Tallen lifted his head again; he opened his mouth, wanting to say something comforting but got no words out before the other boy's mouth closed over his. Tallen's hands moved to cup his face; warm and wet, he felt something lightly stroking at his tongue.
Tallen pulled back just a little, green eyes searching his own, looking for any sign of reprimand; his expression remained neutral, passive, he was unbothered. Seeming relieved, Tallen moved closer again and their lips met once more.
- 8
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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