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So, Jean had been right about this one thing. The Witch is blind, there's no doubting it. There he stands in the doorway of his ivy covered cottage, looking at Eren with opal white eyes framed by lashes that seemed all the darker due to the contrast. Two thick scars cross his face in a lopsided X shape, each reaching from above one eyebrow and down to the opposite cheekbone.
It comes as a shock, since Eren has always been inclined to disbelieve anything that Jean might say. His mother hadn't ever mentioned the Witch being blind - though, she is a strict yet thoughtful woman, perhaps she hadn't meant to draw attention to this certain aspect of his face?
By all means, the Witch has a kind of elegance to him, Eren thinks; his nose is long and straight, eyes angular in shape; his pale skin reminds Eren of the Moon, marked and scarred but still ethereal; his long dark hair is pulled back into an elaborate braided style, a spring of rosemary tucked behind each delicate looking ear.
That morning Eren had mentioned dropping off an order to the cottage where the Witch resides, and right away Jean had leapt into a series of fearful declarations. He doesn't trust the Witch, and he made it very clear to Eren!
Needless to say, Eren had been confused, for his Mother never spoke of anything but compliments about the Witch. Even now, Eren cannot help but look past those glaring scars and see the larger picture. Eren is not frightened or disgusted as Jean insisted he would be, not in the slightest.
The Witch has always paid good money for Carla's knitting, his regular orders of woolen goods always a sense of ease for Eren's mother. Sometimes, she would even return home from deliveries adorned with gifts of gratitude - herbs and crystals packed into the drawstring pouches Carla knits herself.
Eren intends to speak, his mouth opening up before thrusting the brown paper parcel towards the Witch. He's beaten to it, however, the first words coming from the Witch himself.
"You're Carla's son," he says, voice rich and trustworthy. The birds flitting about the cottage garden sing along with his utterings, before falling quiet again. It's almost eerie.
Shock registers in Eren’s mind, oh? Not the sort of declaration one expects to hear from a blind person, but, without a doubt the Witch knows who Eren is.
Eren twists his mouth in curiosity, feeling his eyebrows knit together with the emotion, "I don't mean to sound presumptuous, but how could you possibly know that?"
The Witch clucks his tongue and Eren watches as his lips lift in a little smirk, his amusement subtle yet clear, "As you can tell, I am blind. However, that's not to say I cannot see."
Eren opens his mouth to say something in return, yet closes it again once he realises he hasn't given himself the time to truly digest those words… Okay. Well, maybe now Eren finds himself feeling just a tad unsettled. Blindness is an inability to see, so how can one have possession of sight at the same time? The two cannot coincide, surely.
Feeling his eyebrows furrow, Eren tilts his head in the same way that a curious animal might. A good amount of time stretches on, at least five minutes as Eren process his thoughts. The Witch even allows him to do so, his smirk in place and those mirthful pearl-like eyes looking on.
Satisfied with Eren's stupor, the Witch speaks once again, pulling Eren's mind away from the previous conundrum, "You have my delivery? Excuse my asking, but why hasn't Carla come herself?"
Ah, now this is something Eren can answer. He frowns upon recalling his Mother's condition, deathly pale and bedridden. Sighing deeply, Eren explains, "She's fallen dreadfully sick, though, she's trying her best to stave off any concern. My Father is treating her the best he can, says she should be right again within a week or two. Until then, I'm taking on delivery services!"
"Hm, that's troubling to hear," the Witch declares, waiting for no answer before he sweeps away into the house, beckoning to Eren with rose blushed fingers. "Now, you must come in and I'll fix her something to promote healing."
His twine wrapped parcel still in hand, Eren has no choice but to follow into the Witch's home. He passes over the threshold and the first thing to hit is the smell, sweet perfume filling up Eren's lungs - the fresh scents of lavender, sage and so many more that Eren couldn't hope to ever name.
Bundles of plants hang from the low wooden rafters, different collections in various states of dehydration. Some are still vibrant and fresh, others muted yellows and deep greens. Upon first glance it may seem chaotic, but as Eren follows the Witch into his home, he notes other things such as the complete lack of dust; the way everything has a place that looks purposeful and neat. It's beautiful, natural and refreshing.
Coloured rocks line the windowsills alongside planters of fresh herbs growing tall and lush; different coloured candles sit in decorative dishes, some untouched, others burned down until only a puddle of wax remains. A small open drawer is filled with soft white knitted goods and the Witch takes one in hand before moving to an array of coloured tins.
The caddies clink against one another as he opens the lids and sniffs gently at their contents, nodding at the scent when he finds the correct items. Reaching up to a shelf, the Witch takes a little wooden scoop in hand, filling the knitted bag in his hand with diligent care.
Eren studies the twists of vines and leaves carved into the wood, almost certain it is one he's whittled himself. He smirks, as well as her own knitting, it seems Carla has been giving the Witch Eren's castaway projects. He remembers that spoon in particular, how he had gotten so frustrated at the twisting pattern and discarded it, much to his Mother's chagrin. It seems she took it upon herself to give it a useful life.
Eren feels glad, as he studies the contrast of dark walnut wood against pale moonbeam fingers. All things should be appreciated, used and loved even if the creator gives up - Eren has been trying his best more recently to persist, honing his skills until one day he might be able to make anything asked of him.
"I've put together this charm, be sure she keeps it at her bedside," the Witch explains, his smooth vocal tone ringing about the little kitchen area and bringing Eren's thoughts to the present. "I'll also send you away with something she ought to brew and drink; one scoop from the jar, infused for two minutes in water that's not quite boiling hot. Understand?"
"Understood," Eren confirms, nodding as appreciation warms his bones right through, "Thank you, for extending your kindness."
"Hm," the Witch makes a small noise of recognition, allowing Eren's words to hang in the air between them. His hands still work, this time adding herbs and leaves into a glass jar with two crystals sitting in the bottom, hidden treasures buried beneath the dried plants.
Eren muses that had he been anywhere else, he might feel awkward, standing and watching with the parcel of knitted goods still in hand. Though, for some reason, he feels that he could stay here for hours. He listens intently to the sounds of precious stones ratting against glass and the crunching of wood against tea leaves.
The space feels warming, sunlight streams through the window panes in lacy curls of gold and casts purple shadows below the crystals lining the sill. Of course, it feels magical, the Witch's home buzzing with an energy that sets Eren's heart at ease.
When the Witch has completed the tasks at hand, he turns back to Eren with those entrancing alabaster eyes. Taking the tea leaves and knitted charm in hand, he places them upon the dining table set in the centre of the room.
"You'll see that she gets them straight away?" the Witch questions, if not for the nature of his thick scarring, Eren imagines a concerned frown marking the Witch's forehead.
"Of course, you're the last delivery of my day, I'll return home just before sunset," Eren assures, and the Witch nods in response, pleased with the reply.
Handing over the brown paper parcel as intended, Eren isn't startled when the Witch reaches out for it without verbal prompting. He would be lying if he said the Witch's sight, or lack thereof, didn't intrigue him.
Those eyes of opal sit so unassuming among pearly scars, yet they hold a kind of mischief; they speak of how little Eren knows in comparison, aged and wise where Eren is akin to the lambs born only this Spring. Eren craves to know so much more about this person before him.
Coins clinking, Eren's focus moves towards the Witch's hands, where a collection of silver and copper coins await him. Their hands brush as Eren scoops up the money, the Witch's skin stone cold but reassuring, somehow. Counting out the coins Eren grins, exactly as his Mother had told him - one extra silver coin and two copper, the same tip she receives each time.
"Thank you for your continued support," Eren rambles on, repeating the script his Mother had asked him to recite after each delivery. "We're to expect next month's order by post?"
"Of course," comes the reply, a smile blossoming after Eren's switch into his business friendly speil. Making his way down the hall towards the front door, the Witch speaks again, "Allow me to see you out."
Pocketing the coins and grabbing for the items set upon the table for his Mother, Eren follows the Witch down the hall. Embroidered images line the wall - depicted are flowers of all kinds, alongside animals complete with tiny black beads for eyes, watchful as Eren passes their cotton scenes.
The inside of the door is adorned with ears of wheat, sage tucked into the golden braids and decorated with shells from the far away shore. This home is like nothing Eren has witnessed before, the furnishings comfortable and tidy, oddities that inspire thoughts of the whimsical cover every surface. The magic of it all thrums in Eren's heart, unmistakable and warming.
As he steps out of the door, he wishes more than anything to return as soon as possible.
[o-O-o]
Return, Eren does. The next month, he knocks on the Witch's door as he did not too long ago. In his hands is another brown paper package, tied together with a bow of tattered twine.
Opening the door after only a few minutes, the Witch meets Eren's eyes and slight happiness pulls at his lips.. It looks almost like a small smile, yet it's melancholic and muted.
As he did upon their first meeting, the Witch skips the usual politeness of a formal greeting, "I feared that Carla wouldn't recover as fast as we all hoped - though, to know she is still knitting assures me that her perseverance has not wavered."
"I don't think my Mother would give up knitting even if she were on death's door," Eren agrees, a smile of his own fighting its way onto his features.
"It's good to hear," the Witch states, nodding his understanding. He looks as if he's to say something extra but suddenly the Witch's sentence is cut off, an expression of discomfort overcoming his features.
Worried by the uncomfortable squint of the Witch's opaline eyes, Eren searches for the source of the pain. He quickly realises that with all his movement, the long braid of the Witch's hair has gotten caught up on an elaborate brooch pinned to his shirt.
The Witch lifts his own willowy fingers up in an attempt to free the hair, but he fumbles, unable to see and unhook the braid from its silvery captive.
Hurrying forwards, Eren tucks the parcel under his arm, freeing up his hands to help, "Allow me."
Eren tries to be gentle, though, his hands have never been as graceful as he wishes them to be - apparently, no amount of intricate wood carving can ease up the natural clumsiness of his limbs. Fingers working diligently, Eren notes how soft the locks feel against his skin, taking in the scent of fresh rosemary alongside clean soap.
Eren hadn't paid much attention to their height difference upon their first meeting, but now he realises how much taller he stands in comparison to the Witch. Stooping a little, to get on eye level with his problem, Eren tries his best to avoid any awkward eye contact.
While Eren is certain that the Witch cannot see in a traditional sense at all, how much he can see is completely lost to Eren. If he were looking directly into the Witch's eyes, would he know? Or is his sense of sight more of an abstract concept.. Not actually seeing, but instead knowing and feeling; perhaps he is tapping into Eren's intentions? No, that's impossible.
Eventually freeing the braid, Eren smiles triumphantly, taking a quick look at the silver brooch that has caused all the trouble - a wild goose, flying with its wings outstretched on either side of its plump body.
When he finally steps back into his own space, Eren notes the distinct shade of pink dusting the Witch's cheeks, it reminds Eren of the dog roses that grow in his Mother's garden. Clearing his throat, the Witch fiddles with the braid that Eren just untangled. Pale fingers work at the hair, as if he is making it look as it did before it was misshapen by Eren's hands.
Eren chuckles nervously, "Sorry about that, I'm still working on being gentle."
The Witch snorts, his amusement bursting forth, "Not to worry, you were plenty kind enough to help."
His laugh taking on a more genuine tone, Eren feels grateful that he isn't being scrutinised for his poor detangling methods.
"Won't you come in again?" requests the Witch, his hands still working at the braid despite it looking just fine to Eren. "I could fix some more treatment for your Mother, and you're welcome to have some tea while you wait - the kettle only just boiled."
"I'd love to!"
[o-O-o]
That week, Carla makes a full recovery, much to everyone's relief. But Eren cannot help but feel a deep sorrow, for without his Mother's delivery when might he meet with the Witch again?
No matter what Eren finds himself thinking of, somehow his thoughts always come back to sharing tea at the Witch's oak dining table. The infusion had been home made, a peppermint and dandelion concoction that tasted sharp on Eren's tongue and soothingly warm.
He cannot help but think of the conversation - admittedly, it first came in starts and stops but in no time it had smoothed out into a steady back and forth. As the plants grow in their pots about the Witch's home, their conversation grew like tangling leaves reaching for the Sun.
Eren recalls the way the buzz of goodness filled the room around them, steaming tea in his hand, the afternoon's ambiance tumbling in through the open window. Oh, how he would do anything to relax at that table once again.
When the time for deliveries rolls around, Eren jumps at the chance to make them, despite her health being completely back to normal. As expected, she agrees wholeheartedly, her eyes glinting with mischief.
It isn't long before Eren sits at that oak table in the Witch's kitchen once again, his fingers following the signs of wear upon the knotted surface. Eren isn't sure how long he's been sat down, time blurring with the amicable company - they might have been talking only half an hour, possibly Eren has been there for two hours.
"I don't know your name," Eren muses, eyes lifting to watch the Witch as he moves about the kitchen, filling another of his knitted pouch charms. "It feels strange to only know you as 'the Witch'."
Turning back to Eren, a strange sort of smile plays upon the Witch's polite face, crinkling his scarred yet kindly eyes - truthfully, it's a frustrating expression, one that makes Eren feel as if he knows very little about the world.
"Names.. They hold so much power, to tell you mine would be irresponsible," the answer is infuriating to hear, yet the Witch's soothing presence calms any anger rising from the depths of Eren's fiery chest.
"You know my name!" Eren challenges, incredulous that he could be denied something so simple. "The ground is much too uneven, in that case."
The Witch has a sprig of lavender tucked behind his left ear, and he toys with it in an almost coy manner as he replies, "Well, I hope you can trust me not to abuse that knowledge, and perhaps, in time you will know my name in return."
Eren cannot help but laugh, the ludicrous nature of this conversation tipping him into irrationality. Names holding power? What an idea!
The blow, however, is somewhat soothed when the Witch settles down in his seat opposite Eren, his smile small yet kindly. Placing the knitted charm Eren had just watched him put together on the table's surface, he slides it over towards Eren.
Taking the woolen pouch in hand, Eren focuses on it's plush material and the way it sits in the palm of his hand just perfectly. Inside the components crinkle together, like the chirping of crickets in the Summer.
The stem of lavender is missing from behind the Witch's ear, and Eren smiles when he realises that the stalk tied about the drawstring fastening is the very same sprig. The little flowers look up at Eren, unassuming but smelling so strongly of sleepy evenings.
"For my Mother?" Eren questions, rubbing a thumb against the careful stitches of the knitted bag.
"This one's for you," the Witch replies, that same dog rose pink colouring his cheekbones as it had the month before. "I ask you to keep it on your person at all times, and perhaps it will provide you with some relief."
Eren feels his ear lobes gaining colour, burning hot and betraying his own feelings. His fingers close around the charm and his heart races, of course he will keep it on him - he wouldn't dream of discarding a gift so thoughtful. There is a weight to it, most likely some kind of crystal among all the herbs and such, it feels special.
"Provide relief? In what way?"
"Stress, anger, frustration.. The things that really stunt your ability to listen to the kindness that exists in your heart, hopefully the charm will allow you to express yourself in softer ways."
[o-O-o]
It becomes routine in no time, Carla fulfills all of her orders in the month, and once they're finished Eren makes deliveries for her. He drops off each parcel and collects the coins in exchange, every time leaving the Witch's house for last.
Knocking on the Witch's door with the brown paper parcel in hand, Eren waits patiently until the Witch opens up the door and invites him inside the cottage.
Eren is quick to learn that the Witch doesn't ever offer personal information, and so, it becomes almost a game to gain tidbits rather than simply sharing about himself. The Witch's reserved nature is a challenge, and Eren hangs onto each and every word he is awarded for his efforts.
Eren asks about oddities in the home, and the Witch asks Eren about his woodwork and current commissions; stories of friends and family pass between them. Eren had first assumed the Witch remained mostly solitary, but has found that to be untrue and he savours each time the Witch allows him information about his nearest and dearest. Slowly, Eren will break down those walls that the Witch upholds so firmly.
Soon, a black cat frequents the kitchen while Eren visits, too shy at first but now bold enough to settle down in Eren's lap while he shares tea at the old dining table. The purrs vibrate against his legs, warming and kindly. The Witch calls her 'Daphne', and around her neck she always sports a wreath of bay laurel, the leaves dark green and waxy against her onyx fur.
Today, Daphne sits tall on the windowsill and Eren pets her delicately, studying the crystals lined up along the perch. They're an array of colours, the afternoon Sun's glow shining in the window and providing them with an ethereal shine.
"What's this one for?" Eren asks, pointing to the rock at the very end of the row, his free hand still giving attention to Daphne.
The Witch turns to Eren from where he stands at the kitchen worktop, brewing today's chosen tea - a dark, grassy looking infusion. His face takes on a questioning look, and Eren feels accomplished to have learned to read the Witch's expressions, despite the limitations due to his scarring. Aware that he's being listened to, Eren repeats his question, pointing to the blue stone once more.
"Won't you pass it to me?" he asks, striding across the kitchen to stand by Eren, his hands reaching out for the crystal in question.
Eren does as asked, placing the pale blue stone into the waiting palm. The Witch rubs his thumb over the little crystal, feeling its smooth surface to identify it for Eren.
"Hm, that one is blue lace agate - a very beautiful stone. Recognisable by the pale blue and white bands, it has a soothing feel to it, allows the holder to heal from anger and release tension," the Witch explains, as if its second nature to know these things.
Nodding, Eren attempts to absorb the information, but surely he will forget as soon as he asks about the next stone. Taking his favourite crystal in today's line up, Eren asks again what the use is. The stone itself is green, with bands of light to dark marking its shining surface.
Passing the new stone to the Witch, he exchanges it for the blue one which he places back in its rightful space. The Witch's fingers work at the green crystal, his face pensive and serene.
"It's called malachite," he begins, his flower petal lips pursed as he thinks before continuing, "the green hue echoes the growth of plants, as a crystal it promotes change and balances out extremes in emotions."
Absorbing the information, Eren smiles, and takes the stone back. Holding it in his palm, Eren muses that he can already feel change in the atmosphere. The Witch's company is still something new in his life, but even after only a few meetings he can feel something between them. Their feelings are developing steadily, just like the little streams that inevitably flow into wider and deeper rivers.
Eyes travelling back to the Witch where he continues his work at the counter, Eren grins - his tea is already poured out and steaming gently. Giving Daphne one more stroke, Eren leaves her to her own devices, instead helping to place their cups and plates on the dining table.
They both sit in their usual chairs, and as soon as Eren is comfy, the Witch pushes a plate of shortbread towards him, "I baked them with rosemary, but I can't tell if they're any good - please, try one?"
Eren doesn't have to be asked twice, and so he digs in, taking careful sips of his dark assam in between sugar filled bites.
[o-O-o]
"Eren, you do know that you can visit me more than once a month?" the Witch says one day, his expression hidden behind the brim of his floral tea cup.
Heat rising in Eren's cheeks, he feels his body tense. His most recent gifted charm sits heavily against his chest, where it hangs on a long rope of leather; Eren is reminded of its grounding weight as it rests just over his heart.
"I wasn't certain that was something you wanted," Eren replies, because it's true. He hadn't been sure that the Witch would appreciate his company more than the usual visits, regular as clockwork.
The Witch laughs his breathy chuckle, and like a balmy Summer breeze washing over him, Eren's muscles relax. "You're rather clueless, if I'm being honest with you," the Witch says, a playful smile pulling at his enticing lips.
Eren is certain that his ears must be glowing bright with embarrassment, which only leads him to feeling further bashfulness. Stumbling to find any words to say, Eren dispares when nothing is supplied at all.
"Though, I find it refreshing," the Witch soothes, his feet finding Eren's under the table and resting there gently, a strange yet sweet gesture of closeness.
[o-O-o]
Consistently, things progress from Eren and the Witch meeting once monthly, twice monthly, and then weekly.
One afternoon, Eren arrives to find the Witch sitting outside. In the cottage's little herb garden, a large knitted blanket is laid out on the grass, set upon it a woven basket holding nothing short of a feast.
The bees fly about the garden, pollinating dutifully in the sunshine; in the far corner of the garden, butterflies flock on the vibrant flowers of the buddleia. Sat among it all is the most beautiful creature of all, simply breataking - the Witch.
His silky hair is tied into a single long braid as usual, but it wraps from ear to ear, almost like an ebony crown adorning his head. A feathery stalk of rosemary is tucked behind his delicate ear, reminding Eren of their first meeting.
"Isn't this a wonderful thing to stumble upon?" Eren comments, alerting the Witch of his presence. Opening the garden gate to let himself in, Eren enters, finding a suitable spot and kneeling down upon the blanket beside the Witch.
"Eren," the Witch greets, the happiness in his voice is tangible and it feels like sunlight caressing Eren's skin.
His tender smile reaches his cloudy white eyes, and Eren is reminded of the pearls found hidden inside oysters, rare and beautiful. Eren laughs, a giddy kind of feeling in his chest overflowing.
"This is different," Eren declares, his fingers absently toying with the waxy grass below him.
"It's always nice to do something new, why not today?" the Witch comments, reaching into the wicker picnic basket beside him and laying out some of its contents. "I've been waiting for you to arrive, the birds were ever so determined to get into the bread before you so I kept it all stored away."
As promised, a loaf of fresh brown bread is produced, the seeds on the top every hue of brown possible. Its followed by colourful cheeses and ruby red apples, Eren's mouth waters in anticipation.
"You've put so much effort into this, thank you, sincerely," Eren pours out his gratitude, a smile stretching his mouth wide and joyful. "I actually brought something for you too!"
"Oh? You did?"
"Yes!"
Reaching into his pocket, Eren produces the little mahogany pendant he poured his heart into over the last few days. Placing it in the Witch's palm, Eren bites his lip as the Witch feels each crevice of the wood, face scrunched up in concentration. It doesn't take long before recognition registers on his face and Eren feels relief flood his system.
"Its a cat," the Witch decides, his wide expressive eyes conveying his pleasure at receiving such a gift.
"Daphne, specifically!" Eren comments, explaining the carved pendant further, "I used a nice dark wood, to really stay true to her."
An affectionate smile softens the Witch's face, and Eren grins in return. His fingers finding both sides of the leather necklace, the Witch carefully loops it around his neck, the little cat resting prettily against his clavicle.
There's something different about the Witch's gaze, his fingers still caress the wooden pendant, as if he hadn't done it thoroughly enough the first time. The way he studies Eren seems changed, and Eren truly does attempt to decipher that strange look.
Before he has much of a chance to mull it over, the Witch leans into Eren's space. His hands reach towards Eren, coming to rest at his jawline, so so gently. Dark eyelashes, silvery moonlight scars, opaline eyes - the garden around him falls away as Eren's vision is filled with only the Witch.
"This is okay?" he questions, his fingers making little circles where they cup Eren's face.
"More than okay," Eren assures, his voice almost a whisper between their lips.
They're so close, the scent of rosemary and soap is almost intoxicating, fresh and clean like the most perfect Spring morning.
Their lips meet, and Eren closes his eyes as he leans into the tenderness. It's quick and shy, fleeting like the butterflies as they make their rounds about the garden. It's over much too soon, so Eren chases the Witch's lips to reconnect them. With the second kiss Eren feels satisfied, and so he pulls back to see a picture of sunset blushes and rosy affection.
Unable to stop himself, Eren lifts a hand and traces the shell of the Witch's ear with his thumb, resting his hand at the base of his skull. Leaning forwards into the Witch's space, the afternoon Sun beating down on his back, Eren feels full to bursting with fondness.
Eren wants nothing more to kiss the Witch's beautiful skin all over, starting by touching his lips to the place where those two thick scars intersect, just at the bridge of the Witch's nose.
His own forehead pressed to the Witch's, Eren asks the question that has been nagging at him for months, "What is your name?"
White eyes open up and look into Eren's own, like two half moons, they're celestial in the golden sunlight.
"I'm glad you asked," he says, his voice so quiet that the bees might miss his words if they don't stop their buzzing, "My name is Levi."
Eren's breath feels as if it has been knocked out of his lungs. He has earned trust, he has finally been gifted the most important piece of this puzzle he has been piecing together for months.
In this moment, Eren understands what the Witch had meant about names holding power. He cannot understand why, but the word has a presence of its own, it feels tangible, like a secret treasure held between just himself and Levi.
His name is Levi.
"Levi?" Eren calls, his voice light and hesitant.
"Yes, Eren?"
"Could we kiss again?"
"I'd love to."