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It was almost unfair for the day to be so serene only to be cooped up in the palace. A tragedy but one that Laurent would tolerate only because he had his husband by his side.
Very rarely did he ever wake up before Damen. In every instance that he had, Laurent would lay in silence, observing the golden glow of Damen’s skin and hair as the sun rose. He was beautiful in every sense of the word, having become even more so as they had gotten older. Time was kind to Damen, his most prominent wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. His joy was permanently carved into his face.
Laurent would like to think time was kind to him as well. Damen was as enamored with him as he had been decades before. This sort of happiness was not one that Laurent had ever envisioned for himself, never even once considered he would one day be closer to living for half a century than his own birth. He was alive in every possible way, and nothing or no one would ever take it from him.
Damen snorted, snapping Laurent out of his reverie. His eyes slowly opened, warmed by the sunlight and the love from within.
“Good morning. Have you been awake long?” Damen asked, his voice husky as it always was when he first awoke. Laurent let his hand slide from Damen’s shoulder and down his arm. It was due to Damen’s discipline the muscle was as firm as ever, but not even he could stop the march of time as more fat covered the thick flesh. The gentleness of Damen’s strength was too much for Laurent to think of so early in the day. He slowly sat up, the blankets pooling into his lap.
“No. I was simply admiring the view beside me. A wonderful start to my day,” Laurent said. He managed to pull himself away from Damen’s warmth. His clothing had already been laid out, ready for him to put on with Damen’s careful assistance. Laurent tried to imagine his younger self, always tightly wound up in laces and ties. He imagined his past self would be horrified at the more loose-fitting clothing he donned as of late, the style Veretian as ever but the fabric more appropriate for the Akielon heat.
Behind him, Damen groaned. He was still lying in bed, one arm stretched over Laurent’s empty place and the other draped over his chest.
“Must we rise so soon? Surely, the world can wait a while longer,” Damen said, looking at Laurent with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Then the world shall wait for my brute of a husband to finally gather his bearings while I shoulder the heavy burden of a king,” Laurent said, working his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. His wrists were free from tight fabric more often than not as of late.
Damen chuckled as he rolled onto his side. Though, as he made his way to a sitting position, he hissed. “Damn.” He hunched over himself, breathing slowly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Just simple aches,” Damen responded, a lightheartedness to his tone. He was still hunched over.
“My husband has become an old man. Will you become a curmudgeon, scolding the youth for enjoying their lives not knowing the finality of it all?” Laurent said as a tease. As expected, Damen laughed.
There was not much noise coming from Damen after that. Laurent was already mostly dressed by then, the only things left undone were the ties. Perhaps Damen had managed to fall asleep while sitting. The thought was amusing, so Laurent turned to share it with his everything.
Any humor he felt was eradicated at the sight presented before him. Damen, wide-eyed with fear, fingers digging into the sheets to the point of potential tears. His whole body trembled as his eyes searched for Laurent.
“Laurent.”
Something cold pierced his veins as he took a step closer.
“I can’t move. It… It hurts,” Damen gritted out. Laurent was by his side in an instant.
“What hurts?” he asked, steadily loosening Damen’s death grip on the sheets until both hands were in his. Damen winced as Laurent moved his arms. “Do not lie to me. Tell me what is hurting.”
Damen’s arms never stopped shaking, trembling from the sudden agony. As Laurent maneuvered one of Damen’s arms over his shoulders and guided him to stand up, he answered, “It’s my back. Not even an ache, it was just pain.”
It was as if Damen’s skin became that of hot coals, and Laurent desperately wanted to let go. He tightened his grip on Damen’s wrist, keeping them both steady.
“The physician will help you,” Laurent said. He could feel Damen stiffen, ready to protest being cared for. “I will hear no other words come from your mouth except those of agreement.”
With a sigh, Damen acquiesced. “Really, there is no need to make such a fuss. I’m fine.”
“Those are not words of agreement,” Laurent said.
The physician’s name was Melas, Laurent remembered. Although new to the palace since Paschal’s passing several years prior, he was very skilled in his studies and practice. His trust in medicine was unwavering, and Laurent had come to trust him just as much.
“Breathe in deeply again for me, Exalted. This time, please straighten your posture the best you can,” Melas ordered, his words stern despite the gentle way he spoke. His hand moved to Damen’s back, ever-so-slightly brushing against the skin. Damen flinched away from the touch before trying to raise his head only for him to grunt in pain. “That’s enough, Exalted. Pushing yourself past your limits will only lead to injury.”
Even with his head lowered, Damen still managed to capture Laurent’s gaze, his eyes dull and annoyed. Perhaps Laurent would have laughed at his display of displeasure if he wasn’t so wracked with nerves.
“Lead me through this morning before this occurred,” Melas said, bringing a stool to sit beside Damen. He looked between the two of them, waiting for an answer.
“Everything was fine,” Damen said. “Laurent was dressing himself while I was still in bed. I went to get up when my back began to hurt. I didn’t need to come here, it would have subsided.”
“You could not even move,” Laurent protested. He turned to Melas. “He was shaking from the pain. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
Melas leaned over, his elbows resting on his thighs. He bit his bottom lip for a moment before asking, “What kind of pain, Exalted?”
“What do you mean?” Damen furrowed his brow.
“Well, what did it feel like? Was it soreness? Cramping? Pain is the body’s way of telling us something is wrong, and it can manifest in different ways,” Melas explained. Another thing that Laurent appreciated about Melas was his patience, waiting while Damen remained silent. “Exalted, the quality of the care I can provide you will improve once I know what I need to tend to. How would you describe the pain from this morning?”
When Damen still had not uttered another word, Laurent held out his hand. Damen took it, a soft smile on his face. As his thumb caressed the skin on the back of Laurent’s hand, Damen said, “It wasn’t like the soreness after training. It was almost like I was being burned or poked at.”
“You said it was your back that hurt. Anywhere else causing you trouble?” Melas asked.
“Some of the pain went to my arms.”
“Has this happened before?”
Damen’s thumb stopped moving. Laurent’s grip went limp as Damen’s tightened. He stared at his husband as he swallowed thickly.
“Yes. It has.”
“How long have you been experiencing pain, Exalted?” Melas asked, choosing that moment to stand from his stool. He approached one of the many shelves lining his walls and selected a worn-out journal. The pages were yellowed and the script faded; Melas’ fingers were gentle as he flipped through it.
“A few months,” Damen muttered. The coldness in Laurent’s veins returned.
“How long is ‘a few months’?”
“Are all these questions so necessary?” Laurent heard himself speak. He had not meant to say anything at all. Melas blinked but did not look away from the journal.
“I believe they are important in finding what could have triggered Damianos Exalted’s pain. The knowledge will assist me in finding the proper treatment,” Melas said.
“It was during our stay in Arles,” Damen said.
“It was winter, then, correct?”
“Yes.”
Melas hummed, carefully closing the journal and placing it back on the shelf. He returned to his stool, his elbows on his thighs once more. He glared at Damen. “Are you certain it was only these past few months? Or was there pain before that you’ve never told me about?”
“What are you implying,” Damen said, his tone heavy and sharp like the sword he favored. “I can handle pain. Do not concern yourself with details so insignificant, it is unwarranted.”
“I would never undermine your strength and your capabilities, Exalted. But it is my opinion that no one should have to handle any sort of pain throughout the day.” Melas’ face softened. “I wish you had come to me sooner, Exalted. This sort of pain can be difficult to treat without proper care.”
The physician sighed, a forlorn look washing over his face. “My mother mentored me since I was a child. She was a skilled healer in our village. But I always remembered that she was in pain. Nothing was wrong with her. That was what I had first thought as I could see no injury. But her pain was there, it was simply invisible. And there was very little that could ease the pain. Her strongest herbs, a hot bath, it was all temporary relief. I thought that if I could learn from her and discover the cure for her pain, I would have fulfilled my duty as a son,” Melas said. “I didn’t get that chance. She passed just before I came to the palace. So now I will focus my efforts on to you, Exalted.”
Damen looked startled for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“The scarring on your back,” Melas pointed out. “They healed perfectly, have they not?” Confused, Damen nodded. Melas looked to Laurent.
“They have. Many years ago.” Something bitter coated the roof of his mouth and dripped from his tongue. It was unpleasant, so much so that Laurent almost wished he hadn’t insisted on bringing Damen to the physician.
He had not had a thought so horrible in so long.
“I find the human body to be fascinating. Given enough time and care, it can heal almost anything. Even the very things that should be impossible.” Melas straightened in his seat, a strange sparkle in his eyes. “The problem my mother had was with the nerves. They were oversensitive and said she must feel pain when there was nothing to cause it. Exalted, when your scars healed completely, did you ever note a loss in sensation?”
Damen played with the cuff on his wrist, and that was when Laurent realized they were no longer connected by their hands. His own were shaking.
“I do. I just assumed it was the thickened skin that dulled my senses,” Damen said.
“I would expect as much. That is usually the case with scarring. If all goes well, it may not even hurt at all. Yours has been so well cared for that it’s no surprise it took this long,” Melas continued. “The body will heal itself, given enough time. Even the nerves can repair themselves despite their damage. I predict that is what has been happening for however long you’ve been experiencing pain, Exalted. The winter spent in Arles must have exacerbated it as well.”
“Then what shall we do?” Damen asked, raising his head slowly. His posture was less slouched.
“There are medicinal remedies I can make that can dull the sensations. Exercise is also beneficial, though not the kind you are used to, Exalted. I will create a proper regimen for you and see how you improve in the following weeks,” Melas said.
“Improve? You’re that confident?” Damen smiled.
“Of course. Only the best of care for my kings. Your Majesty,” Melas faced Laurent, startling him out of his apparent reverie. “Be a foundation for Exalted. Support him when needed. Even when he’s stubborn.”
Damen pouted under the combined stare of the two men with him.
“I will inform you both of the regimen once I have it prepared. I will make a numbing salve to put on your back for now, and you can return later in the day,” Melas said, standing from his stool and lowering himself into a swift bow.
“Thank you, Melas. You’re too kind,” Laurent said, his tongue a strange weight in his mouth. He watched the physician scuttle across the room, fetching the ingredients and tools needed to make the salve. A large warm hand enveloped his own. Looking down, Laurent was met with Damen’s smile. It was comforting.
Laurent did not want to be the one comforted.
“I suppose we will have to reschedule our visits to Arles. How inconvenient,” Damen lamented, sinking further into the hot water of the baths. Melas had strongly advised Damen to take warm baths. Relax the muscles and relieve the pain, he had said. Laurent was still fully clothed, the fabric clinging to his skin from the sweat. “My love, are you sure you don’t want to join me?”
“I am not the one in need of a bath,” Laurent said, turning his head to look at the towering columns within the bathhouse. Truly, an extraordinary feat of architecture. Laurent wished he could appreciate the way he used to when he was younger. It would have been a more effective distraction.
“But you are uncomfortable. Relax with me,” Damen said, his pleading like a gentle order that Laurent could not resist. Pushing Damen’s hands away, Laurent undressed himself until he was completely nude, lowering himself into the almost too-hot water. His skin pinkened as it was exposed to the heat. The aroma of lavender was gentle on his senses. “There you go. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“It is not I who will derive benefits from this,” Laurent said as he slowly sank into the water.
“What a lie. My beloved seems to have lost his crafty tongue and clever mind. Perhaps you were in more need of tranquility than I am,” Damen jested. Thick fingers combed through Laurent’s hair, capturing his attention. “Speak to me. What plagues you so horribly?”
“Is it not obvious, you brute?” Laurent spit out, the words vile and disgusting. Of course, Damen seemed to know exactly what he meant because he did not become angry at his venom.
“Then tell me. I hate to be left clueless about the man who holds my heart,” he said, his fingers never stilling. Laurent wanted to reject the comfort Damen’s touch gave him, but it only made the words a little easier to say instead.
“Just when I thought we could fully escape past actions, it has come back to haunt you. You’ve been hurting and you dared not tell me,” Laurent said. He was stiff but managed to get the words out anyway. “Why would you hide your pain from me?”
“I did not intend to hide it,” Damen said slowly. “There are times that I forget the scars are even there. It had not occurred to me that they would be the cause of any pain. It had been so long since I felt anything of the sort there. And the pain was tolerable, it was never as bad as it had been this morning.”
There was never a doubt in Laurent’s mind that Damen was being honest. It made his words hurt all the more. “At Arles? Were you in pain then?”
The silence stretched for too long. It was an answer of its own when Damen spoke. “Resting by the fireplace made it manageable.”
“You should have told me no matter how much damned pain you can endure,” Laurent tried to scold. It fell flat. “We could alter our plans for Ios. It is much warmer there compared to Marlas, especially in the next few months. The warmth will do you good.”
“Laurent.”
“Yes?”
“I am fine,” Damen said. His hand fell to Laurent’s shoulder, gently tugging him closer until Laurent leaned against his chest. “We can talk about plans and the like later. Right now, I feel loose and relaxed, and I hope you feel the same. I would like this feeling to last for as long as possible before we return to our duties. Yes?”
Carefully, Laurent tried to rid himself of the tightness in his body until he slumped against Damen. He did not wince in pain. Laurent leaned back completely, his head on Damen’s shoulder. If he quickly glanced up from the corner of his eye, he would see a scar peeking over the ridge of the junction between Damen’s neck and shoulder. He knew the exact placement of that scar as he did with the rest of them. A horrifying landscape that Laurent cruelly crafted and had come back to haunt them.
And Damen was completely relaxed, the pain subsided in that moment. Laurent closed his eyes, his mind soothed as the scars did not appear in the blackness of his vision. All that he could see was a peaceful day with his husband, even if the circumstances as to why were less than ideal.
“I would like this feeling as well.”