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Not all stories have a beginning and an end.
“I must be lucky.”
Some start in the middle of everything. They let you wonder and wander through hints and words to piece it all together. Sometimes at the end of the book not all ends are neatly tied up, and you are left on your own dreaming of how they would be.
Perhaps a story had a beginning and an end – but time is cruel, and pages go missing. Sometimes a story is but a patchwork of a glimpse of ideas, half born, half not yet alive, stored somewhere safe or left forgotten at the back of fleeting thoughts, too small to be a story in the first place. It is lucky, you know, a story that gets to see the light of day.
Yet, as all letters deserve to be delivered, so all stories deserve to be told.
Leon turns around.
Theirs was as unlikely to be born as any other. They were no more than two lonely souls, and either by chance or by fate, their paths happened to cross.
Some years and many words ago, that is when their story began.
“Lucky?”
“I enter one of my favourite inns in the entirety of Bransle and get informed all rooms are booked. My day is almost ruined, I am roofless in this summer heat, with little time to find another accommodation. I am on the verge of despair. And then, right as I am about to leave, down the stairs come you.”
“Ah, yes, I was about to go on a walk. So, then down come I, your saviour, and you invite yourself to share my room?” Leon smiles in question from his spot by a small writing desk next to the window.
“Is it a bother?” Dietfried quirks a smile on his own.
“Not at all.”
Leon pushes himself off the desk and walks towards Dietfried and a halfway-unpacked suitcase.
As always, always, an arm stretches out to invite him into a slow embrace. Undershirts and socks are left forgotten on the bed as the arm settles around Leon and pulls him towards his lover’s chest. The young man exhales and melts, and his eyes meet Dietfried’s. “You’re welcome to stay here, acquaintance,” he chuckles.
“I think I introduced us perfectly.”
Dietfried's lips smile over Leon’s temple. A warm tingle prickles his skin.
“Not complaining.”
“See.” Another kiss and hands entwined. “I am indeed lucky today.”
“I do not complain often.”
“You don’t. But I do not mind it when you do.”
“About my colleagues?”
Dietfried shrugs.
“I am well acquainted with incompetent individuals and share the sentiment. Albeit, I am grateful they are not bothering you with work these days, or I would not have found you here. Lucky, aren’t I?”
“Luck has nothing to do with this,” Leon mumbles. “It’s mostly me being efficient, and the only way to the Observatory needing renovations that will end in a few days. So I’m early.”
Despite the heat, Leon still shivers as a hand rubs his back.
“I don't doubt you've done well. I’m always proud of you, you know that?”
Oh, of course Leon knows. He hears it from the man often. If he does not hear it, he reads it over a letter. So often, in fact, that he has started to believe it. He had promised himself to one day find the right words to thank Dietfried for that. Until then, he tries to return the sincere compliment whenever he can, in one way or another.
“Mm.”
“I will gladly remind you,” Dietfried adds gently.
Likewise, Leon thinks and says it wordlessly with a kiss just below Dietfried’s collarbone. It’s as high as he can reach without stepping on the tips of his toes at this point in time.
“And, how comes you’re around?”
“Me? Hm…” Dietfried lets go and pretends to be pensive with a difficult tilt to his head, until he finds an answer. “State secret.”
Leon sighs, because it might as well be true, it has been before. And always as theatrically, and with a barely visible sparkle of playfulness in Dietfried’s eyes. One Leon has learned to spot easily.
“No other plans?”
“Well, you saved me today. I had no plans,” or none that can’t be postponed, “but I cannot remain in your debt, so you choose, starlight.”
“Uh…I don’t have much planned either.”
“Ah, nonsense. Anything you want, Leon.”
“There really isn’t much though.” Leon sits on the chair by the desk. The wind blowing inside is warm, but more pleasant than just heat. “I was going to go on a walk. Read some books, sleep in for once, and then…I don’t know. There are caves I’ve been wanting to visit, but I can’t quite do that, so no special plans on my side.”
“Caves?” Dietfried places the last pair of socks in the drawer and sits on the bed, crossing his legs with the usual effortless, infuriating grace Leon is forever enchanted by.
He nods.
“Solution caves here down the river. I’ve visited with transcribers once, since it's not far from Astrea, but I haven’t been able to get permission since. I remember them being pretty.”
“The caves, huh?” Dietfried leans on one arm. “That can be arranged.”
“Excuse me?”
“About half an hour by train from here, yes? We’ve done business before. You know my rule, always make sure they owe you a favour. Nothing big, but it was war and they were grateful. They’ve been begging me to come visit ever since, I’m sure they won’t mind if we show up.”
Leon stares.
“I wonder who the lucky one here is,” he says, more to himself than the other.
Dietfried chuckles.
“Get ready, we should be able to be there in time if we catch the next train.”
“Right.” Leon stands up. “Something warm too. It’s cold inside and the weather’s been volatile.”
“Ah, must be why I postponed going. I don’t enjoy places where I can’t look my best.”
Leon rolls his eyes with a smile and walks up to Dietfried for a kiss. They have more than enough time for one, and another with a thank you whispered between lips.
The sun shaded by trees on their way was pleasantly warm.
“Now that I think of it, I haven’t had the chance to ask you why you like this inn, back when you first took me here. It isn’t one of your usual places.”
“Ah, always the same. It is not expensive, and if it is not expensive my, well, actual acquaintances won't be here. I cannot avoid them in hotels, and fortunately none of them enjoys accommodations of this sort. I'm not too keen on looking at familiar faces. With some exceptions, of course.”
“Ah.” Leon smiles.
“And I enjoy the backyard.”
“It is very nice.”
“And you too must have spent quite a few nights here. Mind telling how you managed to convince the old lady to rent you the big room?”
“Mm…” Leon tilts his head to one side and looks at Dietfried walking next to him. He grins. “State secret.”
Down, down, further down the tunnel and steps, where air is cool and damp and ceilings plink on stone below, where the only lights are fleeting yellow lamps, the sole warmth of the caves.
Leon grimaced as a drop fell on the nape of his neck in the half-dimmed cavern. He wiped it away, from neck and memory, as the sight before him stole his attention.
“Look”, he tugged Dietfried's sleeve, “it's a-”
“-and this is a stalactite. Bet you've never seen one as big, sirs?”
Lorenzo's smile displayed some sort of unfounded pride when it came to the size of this particular speleothem. As much of an influence Dietfried's surname could exhibit, the two were not permitted to enter the caves guideless, and Dietfried's head was starting to regret it. He simply raised an eyebrow in answer. He had not seen any stalactite before at all.
“It seems about the same size as last time,” said Leon.
“Of course, they grow slow, terribly slow. No more than a couple of centimetres in thousands of years. Imagine what wonders this one has seen.”
The stalactite dangled firmly from the ceiling and like last time, Leon had the impression it could crack and fall at any moment.
It didn't happen.
“Must be quite old then?”
“Oh, very, sir. Older than my grandma, and she hasn't aged in years.”
Leon held back laughter at Dietfried's eyeroll and an are you sure you want to let her hear that murmured under his breath as Lorenzo enthusiastically turned on his heel and gestured to continue down the path.
“This right here we call a drapery. Looks like curtains, doesn't it? Although there are no windows to hide from the sun down here. And look at that stalagmite, here we have,” Lorenzo continued with a length to his a, “a soon-to-be column. So how that happens is…”
The two tips were almost touching, half of the pillar reaching up from the ground, half down from the stone sky. Separated by no more than the width of a finger, Leon felt his chest ache a little for the column-to-be. It would take years for the two to become one, what they were meant to be from the very beginning, from the moment the water dripping down the stalactite began forming its grounded counterpart, as if made of tears. No one could be sure that the column would come to life, either. There could be earthquakes, heavy floods, or a careless human motion. And thousands of years would disappear in seconds.
Another drop fell as he looked for the comfort of Dietfried's warm hand.
He found it and the hold tightened.
“Lorenzo?”
“Which is how the limestone- yes sir, how can I help!”
“How much longer do you think before this one becomes a column?”
“Ah, I get that question a lot. Hard to say, sir, but if you ask me,” the curly strawberry blond guide wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully, “I'd say twenty-five or so. Not long in the grand scheme of things.”
“Interesting. Should we visit again then? What do you think, Leon?”
“What? I…I'd like to, but twenty-five-”
“Book us in twenty-five years from now then, will you?”
Lorenzo laughed heartily and bowed in agreement at what he thought was a great display of humour.
Dietfried, however, merely smiled at Leon with a shrug, meaning every single word of it.
They moved onwards a few steps behind Lorenzo.
“How do you know?”
“Know what, dear?”
“Twenty-five years. How do you know you will still want to…be here?”
With me?
As Dietfried halted for a moment and searched Leon's face, despite knowing every line and curve of it, his eyes softened in tender affection he rarely permitted himself around anyone else.
“Well, Leon,” he hooked their arms and walked, “I have thought about it a lot. And after thinking it through, I only had a question left. Where could I possibly find a single reason not to?”
“Welcome to the main chamber, sirs, and at last…the beauty of our caves. Tallest column you'll find around here, although by here I mean a fairly large area. We call it…the Titan.”
“The…Titan.”
Leon shivered next to Dietfried. With a frown, Dietfried rubbed the younger’s arm, his eyes never leaving the big pillar in front of them.
Lorenzo smiled at him expectantly.
“Yes sir, Titan.”
“I…see.”
“Do you not like the name?”
“I fail to find an angle where I could see any shape resembling a face…or body.”
“Ah, well. It has nothing to do with that. We call it Titan because it's big, of course.”
Leon shook harder. He couldn’t contain his chuckles any longer.
“Can you guess what it’s called?”
“The river?” Dietfried quirked his brow. “It has a name already, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” Leon agreed, “but a different one is used inside the cave.”
“Fascinating. Would you be willing to tell me?”
Leon laughed and carefully bumped his head on Dietfried’s shoulder. The railing was cold beneath his skin, but he did not mind it much. “River.”
“Yes, the river?”
“River. It’s river River.”
“Leon-”
Before any complaints or disbelief could be announced, Leon was laughing again.
“Oh, I see you’re enjoying our River!” Lorenzo hopped from a lightbulb he was replacing. “It can be dangerous during floods, brings all kind of stuff in here.”
“Does it flood often?”
“Oh, don’t worry! If it happens it will be over before you know it,” Lorenzo grinned. “As the water rises there is less space for any echoes. Hence, we call this bridge area the Passage of silence. Pretty, don’t you think?”
“Pretty macabre indeed.”
“I was here right after a flood, I think.”
“You were?”
You were? Dietfried thought to himself, in a much graver tone.
“I think so. There were flowers everywhere.”
“Ah! Wonderful, isn’t it? You were lucky, we don’t usually let visitors in so soon after floods.” Lorenzo smiled. The river shone quietly underneath his gaze, reflecting the few dim lights of the cavern. “Seeds from above get washed up all over the cave. It does not last long, but for a short period of time everything is green. On few occasions I’ve seen flowers bloom. You’ll find no sunlight here. They wither away fast, fleeting as shooting stars. Nonetheless, beautiful…”
…
“…although a lot of wood gets deposited everywhere, it is very troublesome. And one time we had to get rid of an invasive species, but I think that is the fault of one of our cavers, he likes plants and keeps seeds and saplings everywhere. Shall we continue? There’s a lot more to see here.”
“Lorenzo.”
Dietfried waited for the young man to stop and turn.
“Yes, sir?”
“Tell me something, will you?”
“If I know the answer, gladly!”
“Is this bridge called Bridge?”
Lorenzo blinked.
“How did you know?”
This is as far as I take you, gentlemen. Up this set of stairs to the surface and then take whichever route you’d like. The long one is scenic, but, well, long. The short one…maybe if you tell the boss this one needs a bird fountain somewhere he’d finally listen, I suggested it at least four times already. It's a bit boring. Ah, don’t mind me! I hope you enjoyed the visit. And please come back some time, it was so nice talking to both of you.
“How was it?”
“I have to admit I appreciated it more than I thought I would. What about you?”
“Even if you couldn’t wear your best clothes?”
Leon laughed at Dietfried’s frown and gentle jab before locking hands.
“It didn’t have much to do with clothes. There were plenty of reasons to enjoy it.”
“Mm. I liked it. It hasn’t changed much, but I got to see the bats this time around.”
“So-called Lorenzo’s friends, apparently.”
“He’s having fun.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“…Do you want to stop?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you tired? Too many stairs?” Leon worried as Dietfried leaned onto him. Then, he grew confused, as Dietfried seemed to need him more for a hug than support.
“It is nothing but my old knee acting up as per usual. Once you reach my age, you’ll see how ungrateful bones are.”
Not without an eyeroll, Leon returned the hug. “You’re not old. Let’s hurry, it should get better outside in the sun.”
…
“Ah. So that’s why it started hurting.”
Downpour.
The two young men stared at puddles outside the exit.
“Never fails,” Dietfried patted the side of his leg. “Meteorological accuracy.”
“The station is-”
Rumble.
“…Let’s take the short route.”
“Yes, let’s do that. We need to see if the bird fountain is viable.”
“Maybe it’ll stop raining.”
It did not, in fact, stop raining. In fact, the rain poured down harder than ever, hard enough to make their coats appear useless and thin.
Soaking.
Leon attempted to use the last dry spot of his sweater to clean his face even a little.
Dietfried had given up and now sat with a few buttons of his shirt undone, knowing he was not going to be any less wet by the end of this short ride.
Outside the window reigned chaos.
Lightning shaped out silhouettes of clouds seconds before thunder came crushing and roaring. It was a simple summer storm, bound to be short, yet long enough to leave the two men in the state they were in.
Rain did not care who it fell upon, whether it fell on a smile or got lost among tears, whether there was drought or floods in the land. It did not care that people had to run to the station, nor that some have already been waiting there.
Rain did not care in the slightest.
And so it fell.
Upon streets, fields, mountains, rivers. Upon lovers and enemies and strangers and friends, upon a lonely flower by the road, upon a tree the train passed by.
And it kept falling.
Another thunder howled in anger.
Outside reigned chaos, but inside the train, at least some peace could be found.
So Leon pondered with his forehead leaning on cold glass.
“It's a bit of a pity we don't get to see storms like these around Leiden.”
“You rarely hear thunder,” Dietfried agreed from the opposite side. “It is surprisingly calming. Albeit not so much when I have to run through it.”
“Mm, I should've taken the scarf.”
“I’ll have to order us new clothes.”
“You have, recently.”
“Seasons will change soon. Summer colours will not be suitable anymore.”
“What would be good then?”
“On you? Everything.”
Leon’s mumbled words got lost between sounds of the train. Carriages wobbled lightly left to right as they passed a corner. Leon removed his face from the window after bumping against it for a third time. The jacket placed over his shoulders had little to do with old railway tracks.
“You'll be cold.” Dietfried was already returning to his seat by the time the younger one looked up surprised. “I rushed us to go today, I should have waited. Don't worry.”
“...”
Dietfried offered an apologetic smile to Leon's disagreeing stare. He watched the younger one rest on the window again, he watched the glassy reflection of a - Leon would rather die than admit it - pouty face in it.
Ah, Leon, he thought tenderly. All this time spent chasing stars in the sky and not one of them as beautiful as the one you would find in a mirror.
After a moment, Leon's eyes blinked the other way and were met with the same, sad smile.
“I wanted to go too,” Leon said.
Without batting an eye, Dietfried reached out, and without batting one either, Leon met him halfway and let himself be pulled into his lap.
Damp, sticky, cold, and as familiar as ever.
“Your hair is wet.”
“Mm. Yours too.” Dietfried pressed a kiss on top of Leon's head, held him tighter as he curled up closer to his neck.
“I'll just wash it when we come back.”
“Mm.”
“Let me wash yours too?”
“Of course.” Another kiss. “Does it not tangle like that?”
“In a bun? No. But I don't wear it like this often.”
“It's grown.”
“Not as much as yours.”
“Should I cut it?”
“You? Cutting? Heh, we can swap lengths.”
“No,” Dietfried laughed, “shorter.”
“Oh. I've never seen you like that. But you wouldn't be able to braid it anymore.”
“Ah, it grows back.”
“We could've waited an hour at the caves and be dry.”
“I suppose so. The next train is late though.”
“When is it?”
“Arrives at eight.”
“Ah, yeah, late. Well, maybe we can arrive at the inn not completely soaked now.” Leon nodded at the clear sky and fading dark clouds in the distance.
They took the road towards their room for the next few nights.
Late afternoon sun shone through leaves in the way only rain makes it sparkle, painting green leaves a sweet, fresh colour of lime and lemongrass.
“How comes you thought of cutting your hair?”
“Mm, who knows,” Dietfried hummed. It was quiet. There was no one but them, what was left of the raindrops and puddles, cold air and warm sun beyond lime-green leaves. A gentle breeze ruffled them. “It reminds me of simpler times, perhaps.”
“I see.”
Leon skipped a step and the pace matched his own.
They kept walking.
“Should we walk faster, dearest? You seem to be a bit cold.”
“I’m used to the observatory, sir, I’m not cold.”
“Are you now?”
“…We can go faster then. I could outrun you.”
“Oh? I wouldn’t be so sure, I surely make up for age with leg length.”
“No, that’s not fair, I can’t change that.”
“Ah, have you not learned yet, Leon?” Dietfried teased and slowly increased his pace. “Nothing is fair in love and war.”
“Wa- and which one would this be!?”
Leon yelled behind his lover and ran. It was stupid bickering, so meaningless Leon nowadays does not remember anything about it. Anything, save for a single little memory.
At the time, Dietfried turned around to look at Leon. His face was adorned by a beautiful boyish smile, the youngest Leon has ever seen him wear.
“It might just be both!” He shouted and ran forward, letting Leon chase after him.
“You’ve changed your shampoo,” Leon noted. The cold bedroom air came as a shock after exiting a steamy bathroom. He put some more effort into the towel drying his hair. “It’s minty. I like it.”
“Rosemary and mint.”
“Oh, and I like that too.”
“This?” Dietfried’s gaze left the mirror and he tilted his head just so, to properly show off his newly arranged hair bun. “I tried doing it.”
“It’s nice.” Leon slowly slid his fingers around and between and over Dietfried’s hair as if to explore the pulled-up hair. It was still damp, but much less than before. Much softer. “Do you want to try something else too?”
“Oh? I’m intrigued. What might it be?”
A pair of hands rested on Leon’s waist. The young man smiled. His arms slid around Dietfried’s shoulders and neck as he pulled himself closer.
“Raspberry pie. The old miss made it. It’s freshly baked waiting downstairs.”
“…Well, now you’ve got me. I can hardly say no to such kindness, hm? But you know, I didn’t really like eating sweet until I started seeing you.”
“Now you do?”
“Now I realised I do.”
“Heh,” Leon giggled, “charmer. But don’t worry, you would eat this pie regardless. It’s so good.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that. And how are you so familiar with this pie?”
“Ah, my state secret. I sometimes help the old man write things down. His fingers have been hurting a lot, and I get pie in exchange without even asking…and I can’t refuse it. It’s delicious.”
Leon felt himself being held closer. A head leaned against his chest and a smile was pressing into it.
“You’re wonderful. Let’s leave in five minutes.”
“…Alright.”
“Table by the chimney?”
“Yes, please.”
“Is it good?”
“It’s delightful.”
“I’m glad.”
“I’m glad to have connections with access to this pie.”
“Don’t tell me, say it to the old miss later and she’ll be more than happy to give you pie anytime you’re here. She said it herself she’s happy to find any excuse to bake more.”
“I will. Perhaps I get to take some with me on the way. What do you want to do for the rest of the evening?”
“Mm…read? I’m tired and I haven’t had time lately.”
“Of course. You don’t happen to have any extra books on you, do you? I have unfortunately already finished mine.”
“I do. I haven’t read them yet though, so only if you’re feeling daring.”
“I don’t mind a challenge.”
“Are you comfortable like that?”
“Hm? Mhm.” Leon snuggled further into the blanket covering Dietfried’s lap. Lying perpendicular to the bed was not his position of choice, but he was willing to reconsider it. He could see himself falling asleep like that. “How’s your book?”
“I think you’ll like it. How’s mine?”
“I can see why you liked it.”
“Cheeky,” Dietfried smiled.
Leon let out a quiet laugh on his own and leaned into the hand caressing his head. And he leaned further, and caught the palm in a kiss.
“Rain is not done for the night, it seems.”
“Huh? …Oh, you’re right. We’ll have to wait for the weather to warm up until tomorrow.”
“I do not dislike a chill morning.”
“Me neither. Dietfried?”
“Tell me, starlight.”
“They don’t happen to have a piano here, do they?”
“No, if my recollection is still intact, there is none. Why do you ask?”
“Nothing much.” Leon turned to his side. “I miss your piano.”
“Ah. I’ll play it for you when you visit me home, alright?”
“I’d like that.”
Dietfried softened. “It is nice hearing you say that. Or should I feel guilty for not being able to play you a piece now?”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Leon laughed.
“Ahah, I am jesting. Come under covers now, it’s getting cold.”
“It is…one more chapter.”
There was not much room for negotiations. Leon loved reading.
“…One more chapter.”
Dietfried put his book down, reaching instead for soft locks, dark, darker than his own, splattered across white sheets.
In silence, to not disturb the other, he combed through them with his fingers, placed them this and that way into a loose braid, swirled one around his finger and found out how lights brightened the wave of it.
Then carefully, to not wake up the other, Dietfried took the book away from Leon’s hands, slid a sheet inside to keep it marked and laid it to rest on top of his nightstand.
With lights switched off Leon looked different. Paler, colder. Colours much more suiting Dietfried himself. He dragged a blanket atop Leon and smiled when he saw him seek more warmth soon.
A knuckle ran over the younger’s cheek.
Slowly, so he would not break him, so he would remember the shape of it yet again.
He lay down, awake until his eyelids would start to feel heavy.
Sleep did not come easy to Dietfried, but he did not mind it when there were ways like this to spend the night waiting.
It's the light breeze that makes him shiver and wake up. Dietfried squints before shielding his eyes from white walls and morning light. He reaches over to pull the cover further up to his neck…it’s not there. With sleep-heavy lids, and to be perfectly honest, only one eye, since the pillow is too comfortable to lift himself up, he stares at his blanket discarded on the other, empty side of the bed.
On the floor.
He'd have to move.
Dietfried groans, pulls the thin sheet around himself and falls asleep again.
“Dietfri– oh, sorry. I heard you moving around and thought you were awake.”
“Mm? Leon? I am.”
“Almost?”
“Almost.”
A chuckle. The bed dips slightly next to Dietfried.
“Good morning.”
Dietfried would kill for the softness of Leon’s lips to be what he always feels first thing after sleep.
“Mm, mornin’. Am I still dreaming or do you taste familiar?”
“Here, raspberries.”
Leon offers a small cup of red fruit.
Dietfried makes another attempt at blinking himself awake as he takes one and puts it in his mouth. The bitter-sweetness melts on his tongue.
“Where’d you get these?”
Leon shrugs and takes one for himself. “I picked them in the backyard.”
“I’ve never seen any bushes there.”
“Were you ever looking for them?” Leon teases. “I’ll show you later.”
“Very much appreciated. I can show you the garden swing.”
Leon smiles. “I’ve seen it.”
“Ah, then I’ll show you to the garden swing.”
“Alright.”
“And we can read books there.”
“Yes, I’m close to finishing it. And I can braid your hair? It might be short by the time we meet next.”
“If you’re willing to, I’m always content to let you. And then…”
Leon runs a hand through Dietfried’s locks.
“And then?”
The love in Leon’s eyes shakes him, but he does not look away.
“And then…”
Not all stories have a beginning and an end.
Theirs happens to have a beginning, and a few chapters of what came after that. A bit like a pillar of limestone, the tips of their fingers found each other and did not let go. The rest of the pages are empty, still there, waiting to be filled with what yet has to come.
And as for the end still unknown – well, let’s hope it is one as sweet as the raspberry pie.