Work Text:
"I need to go, Narcissus."
The young man blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Ah...
He truly believed his faith to be stronger than that.
"Don't..."
----
They escaped during the night.
Little Bless and a black horse Narcissus had randomly picked from the stalls led them away from the convent.
They didn't go too far, just a couple hours into the forest; soon finding a small clearing surrounded by brambles and deciding that, maybe, leaving at night with nowhere to go hadn't been such a wise decision.
They settled down amongst Goldmund's excited blabbering and Narcissus used the warm cloth he had packed to cover them both.
If he ended up giving more of the cloth to the boy, well, he was just taking care of his dear friend.
The younger man fell asleep first, exhausted by his own excitement.
As he watched Goldmund's golden mane shine in the moonlight, Narcissus found his thoughts drifting over to the convent and all the devoted brothers he had left there.
The promise of a successful future.
Someone said he could've become an abbot if he tried hard enough.
All gone.
The flame of doubt sparked again in his heart.
Maybe he had been too hasty, running after that sweet, maddening boy so willingly.
Accepting to give up his present and future just to spend another day with him.
Another hour.
They weren't that far away yet.
Perhaps...
Perhaps, he could leave the scratchy cloth to Goldmund and make a run for his horse.
He could leave at that moment and be back at the convent before dawn.
His breath hitched.
Fingers traced slowly the hem of the cloth, wanting to grasp, wanting to move away.
Instead, he stared at Goldmund.
His face, ever so beautiful. His long eyelashes and rosy hue. Curly hair and plump lips.
Aah, had he made a mistake, choosing the path of God, when his thoughts were clearly so impure?
When his heart craved sin and his resolve could so easily crumble before such a earthly beauty?
He felt like throwing up.
He could...
He could-
He could leave, let that mad boy explore the world to his liking and go back to his peaceful life.
Make ammend for his sins, pray and devote his soul and body to the Almighty.
Give up all he had to forget this mistake, to erase his fault together with those infuriating, sweet, godforsaken feelings.
Yes!
Yes, he could!
And then Goldmund-
What.
What about him?
Would he be able to survive on his own, so young and naive, inexperienced and impetuous? Not being able to doubt anyone's intentions while, more often than not, only thinking right after taking action?
What if he got killed?
Or worse, what if he never came back to him? Back at the convent?
What if he started resenting him, thinking he'd abandoned him?
Well, it's not like what he was thinking was so different from "abandoning".
No-
He wasn't-
He couldn't possibly leave like that, leave such things unspoken.
He shifted a little.
Those thoughts were starting to feel too heavy on his heart.
Then, Goldmund sighed softly and all of Narcissus' thinking stopped at once.
He watched with wide eyes as Goldmund's hands sought after his own fingers, stiff and cold.
Those elegant hands gave the lightest of squeezes and Narcissus held his breath.
He did not dare making a sound, too afraid of breaking the dream, to stop feeling those slightly warmer fingers interlaced with his own, trembling, ones.
He could wait a few more hours.
He'd make his decision at dawn.
------
The first rays of sunlight found them sleeping as close to each other as possible, for the night had been cold and the winter days were slowly dissolving in a chilly, early spring.
Narcissus woke up first, brown eyes blinking in the rosy light of the dawn.
For a moment he thought of praying, following a routine that had consolidated during the years. A routine that wasn't his anymore.
He did not pray.
Instead, he put off his shoes, slowly trying to warm up his feet through an intense massage.
Then Goldmund rose too.
He yawned, stretched and, as if feeling the actual temperature for the first time, he hurriedly hid under the scratchy cloth again.
"Good morning, Narcissus", he mumbled.
"Good morning, dear Goldmund"
The boy stared at his friend, noticing the stiff shoulders and trembling hands. Somehow, he looked even paler than usual.
With a frown blooming on his face, Goldmund’s grasp on the cloth's hem tightened.
Suddenly Narcissus, who despite being older than him was still, in the end, very young himself, looked so, so much older.
Like that single night in the open had left him with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Not just the hoarfrost.
There was a short silence before the boy spoke again.
"Are you regretting it already?"
Narcissus paused, his cold foot still midair between his hands and his shoe.
When he spoke, he did so very slowly, thinking over each word carefully.
"I am not."
"You look very tense."
He lowered his head, finally resuming his previous administrations.
"It was a cold night", he then paused for a moment, thinking "And I'm worried."
"Worried?"
"Scared, actually."
Goldmund's eyes widened. He moved to sit straighter on the ground.
"You? Scared? That's a first!"
Narcissus felt a pang to his heart.
"Oh, dear Goldmund..." but he stopped there, leaving his thoughts unspoken.
All I've done up to this moment was to rid myself of such worries. And I've now thrown it all out into the wind.
"You should be a bit more concerned yourself", he said.
Goldmund smiled.
"Haven't I got you here by my side?"
"You do. But the world is vast and dangerous, and the possibilities of a man are everything but limitless."
Goldmund pouted.
"So gloomy..."
Narcissus smiled tiredly.
They started packing up. The cloth was rolled up, the bags closed and shaken to remove the hoarfrost. They went for the horses.
"Narcissus", Goldmund suddenly said, "I wouldn't resent you for running back now."
The sunlight was now filtering through the branches and leaves above their heads, still donning colourful hues, but warmer.
Narcissus, for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning, froze.
He was going to help Goldmund mount Bless, and his hands where still on the little horse's bridle.
"I know this is not the life you envisioned for yourself, and I know I have very little to offer in exchange for your sacrifice."
Goldmund's voice was sad and regretful, his beautiful face twisted with doubt.
"I'm inexperienced; a weight to you, probably. What support could I give you? What help? What protection?
When you said you'd follow me I was so happy! Ecstatic, even. You are so dear to me that I never paused to think about... anything, honestly."
He breathed in through his teeth. The frown on his face was deepening with each word that spilled through his pursed lips.
"But before... you looked so sad, and tense, and distraught, and- I'm sorry. Truly sorry.
I... I've been too selfish this time."
Narcissus was touched. And stunned.
He knew Goldmund was a wonderful boy and a soon-to-be wonderful man, but that sudden show of maturity had taken him aback.
He himself was a weak, coward young man; on the verge of adulthood but not quite there, now with adult responsibilities but little to no tools to handle them.
"But", Goldmund continued, "if you find this existence even a bit enjoyable, and if you're not... tired of me yet", a pause. He looked away, afraid.
He had understood that that was going to be the one, fundamental moment, the first turning point of his life.
That one conversation between a young man and an old soul; one ready to leave the suffocating nest of his childhood, the other lost on his path, torn between the cross and his own bleeding heart.
"If you're not tired of me yet, I'd be the happiest I'll ever be, here or everywhere else, with you by my side.
Teach me again, like you've done this past few years. Teach me just a little more and I'll show you that your faith wasn't wasted.
Be patient for a few more years and, when I'll be deemed adult enough, I'll provide for us.
I'll make sure we live a good life, Narcissus."
The stunned silence coming from his friend, now staring wide-eyed, did perhaps worry him, because he anxiously tried adding something more, but it all came like an incomprehensible blubbering to Narcissus' ears.
The way his heart was furiously beating against his ribcage had to be concerning, surely. But all he did, as he tired to quickly gather each and every one of those words and lock them up in the deepest crevice of his very soul, was cover the boy's mouth with slender fingers. The touch was barely there.
"Goldmund", and that by itself was rare, him calling his young friend by his name.
The boy shut his mouth, waiting.
They remained still, staring into eachother's eyes. Close by, little Bless stamped her hoof lightly on the ground, impatient.
"There's nothing I'd love more than live a life with you."
The hug they shared then was for no-one else to see.