Work Text:
Morning
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Galen made his way purposely to the physician's residence on the edge of the village as quickly as he could, hoping to avoid being caught in any small talk of the folks milling about the road in the late morning; old farmers and their spouses, chatting with the townsfolk, the merchants, or whoever came across them. It was the kind of morning that tempted people to loiter in the shade of the trees and chat idly, and the recent arrival of the summer caravans had given everyone something to gossip about.
However, the brisk pace of Galen’s stride coupled with a determined expression allowed him to pass by the idle townsfolk with only a formal wave to acknowledge them. There wasn’t any pressing reason for his hurry, except that he was someone who approached most things with an urgency they didn’t always deserve, in the manner that young men often do.
Insects were humming in the open field as he crossed it, then he was approaching the dwelling that nestled right on the edge of the treeline with the thicket spread around its sides. Vines crept up the old stonework, and there was something fey about the little abode in Galen’s opinion. The stonework ground floor was the village apothecary- though most of the villagers past a certain age just called it ‘the healer’s hut’- and it had been there for decades. There were newer additions to the structure, such as a second floor where the aforementioned healer stayed. The wood and brickwork were visually distinct from the original stone, but it felt right to Galen; the structure growing and changing, the new woven in with the old, given life by its sole resident.
Sole-for now, he thought.
He hadn’t yet broached the topic, but he wondered if there was a future where he lived in the residence alongside his mentor. It was, in his opinion, the reasonable conclusion to his apprenticeship. The fact that he would be living with Avairan , the current village healer, was circumstantial. It was the kind of wishful thinking that was just realistic enough that he hadn’t discarded the idea yet.
The rusty lock opened with a hard turn of the key he’d been given, and revealed the main floor to be empty of any people, with only the light from the sun streaming in and illuminating the varied bottles and jars all over the room, as well as papers and notes scattered about. He wasn’t necessarily expecting anyone else, but Avairan was usually awake by this time, so perhaps he’d gone out for the day. He halfheartedly searched for a note among the paperwork but found none. Usually Avairan left messages pinned to the door, if he felt it prudent. The wooden stairs groaned under his feet as he ascended to the physicians quarters above.
There wasn't any sound from behind the unassuming oak door to his room, and Galen hesitated. Avairan had always insisted that he shouldn't worry about waking him up if he needed help with something. That being said, it was almost noon and most of the village was awake and bustling so it wasn’t as if he would be infringing upon the man. Satisfied with his reasoning, he knocked politely and waited, counting to twenty in his head.
He knocked again, louder this time, and leaned in to the door, speaking in a low voice.
“Avairan? It’s Galen. I apologize if I’m waking you up, but you said I was always welcome to come to you for counsel; so I thought I would come by to ask if you-”
The door swung open suddenly, startling him.
“Oh! Sorry Avia…..” he trailed off as his eyes registered that the man he was seeing was not, in fact, Aviaran. He was looking at a man who was tall and lean, with tawny skin and a bare chest of dark curled hair that trailed down below the waistband of loose tan sleepwear.
Galen stared impolitely at the stranger before he felt a mote of recognition. He had seen this man before, though it took him a moment to place him- this was the traveller who had come into town the day before yesterday with the merchant caravans.
“Something I can do for you?” the traveller asked, voice low in the way of someone who had just woken up.
This was the traveller who had been speaking with Avairan all evening at the local inn, their heads bent low and close in deep conversation. The same traveller who had put his arm across Avarian’s shoulders and to Galen’s shock hadn’t been politely pushed away- he felt an uncomfortable pit forming in his stomach as he asked himself what this man was doing in Avairan’s quarters. Had he broken in? He dismissed the notion quickly, the man was clearly dressed for sleep, not robbery. And he had answered the door casually, as if he wasn't a guest in someone else's home. As if he was allowed to be there. There were a dwindling number of explanations remaining for why this man had opened the door and not Avairan, and not one of them was appealing to Galen.
The young man attempted to gather himself; he was here for a reason, not to speculate. But he couldn’t help it. Avairan had never expressed much interest in others, either to romance or to bed, and it wasn’t for a lack of opportunity. The way people looked at him; reasonably he could spend his time with anyone he wanted, in bed or out of it. Galen had seen him out drinking and laughing with Desvira and a few others every so often; he was far from friendless, but Galen was unaware of Avairan having any lovers.
“I'm looking for Avairan,” he stated, trying to sound confident, like he had every right to be here, and that he hadn’t just been silent and staring for an impolite amount of time.
‘Yeah? You hurt?”
“No. I’m his apprentice? Galen?”
“Oh.” A pause. “Someone else hurt?”
It was becoming clear that if he wanted to see Avairan he would have to ask directly. The thought irritated him. It should have been obvious why he was here, and it wasn’t to state his name and business at the door to this man he didn’t know.
“Not at the moment. Is he here or….?”
Another pause, while the man considered it.
“...Yeah. Hold on a moment, though, kid.''
The flippant tone set his nerves alight. Kid? He was twenty-four.
The man turned and walked down the short hall and around the corner, disappearing for a few moments. There was some hushed talking, none of which Galen could make out, and some shuffling. A noise came from the other room, followed by a thump and then footsteps.
Avairan came into view, clearly fresh from sleep, shirtless with his blond hair sticking up weirdly on one side . It was the most informal manner in which Galen had ever seen his mentor, and he could feel his palms getting sweaty and his mouth going slightly dry. The man who’d opened the door came back into view, and looked at Galen with an expression that was so subtly smug he might've been imagining it. He couldn’t help feeling like he’d been caught, somehow.
“Galen?” Avairan asked, concern evident on his face. “Is something wrong?”
He was close enough now for Galen to see that the freckles that dusted his shoulders also spread across his usually pale chest, currently tanned from the summer sun. Alarmingly, his neck and chest were marked with what looked like bruises- alongside the freckles. Galen worriedly opened his mouth to ask what in the world had happened, before realizing with a start that the marks were not bruises- they were hickeys . The realization made his stomach knot, and he avoided shifting his gaze to the man leaning on the table slightly behind Avairan. He was glad his skin didn’t flush easily.
“N-no, nothing is wrong!” he stammered. “I just wanted to run a couple things by you, and I had assumed you would be around. I didn’t mean to wake you, or, er- intrude.”
Avairan’s eyes widened as he seemed to register the situation for the first time; his state of undress and somewhat dishevelled manner, his apprentice at the door. Another man in the room, equally as undressed. Avairan had always struck Galen as a private person. Five months of apprenticeship and all he’d pried out of him on his personal life was that he did, in fact, have a dad. This situation was a bit more revealing than his mentor would prefer, he was sure of it.
“It’s fine! I said to come to me for anything didn't I? I’ll just-” Avairan’s face reddened slightly- “get myself, uh, freshened up and-” his light brown eyes narrowed and he swivelled his head towards the tall man who had been silently watching the exchange, with unmistakable mirth.
“ You . Be a good host and put on some tea.” Back to Galen. “I’ll be back in a moment. Please, come in, sit down!”
His form disappeared into the back room and the sounds of splashing water followed. The man, whose name Galen still did not know, pushed off the table and gestured him in. It was almost impressive how mocking it felt.
A fire was lit under the little clay shelf tucked into a corner, and when the stones were hot enough the water was boiled and poured over the tea leaves, then into cups, and finally set down in front of him. A chair was pulled out and the other man, still nameless and shirtless, sat across from him at the small table as they waited.
“Sorry for keepin’ you waiting,” the man said, his words slightly accented, though Galen wouldn't have been able to tell where he was from just from his speech. He hadn’t even noticed it in their earlier exchange.
“It’s alright,” Galen said, assuming he wasn’t just referring to the tea. “He wasn’t expecting me.”
“He’s usually an early riser. I'm sure you know that, being his student and all. It was a late night, s’all.” The eyebrow raise was almost imperceptible, but he could swear it was there. Goading real or imagined, he was saved from having to respond by the reappearance of Avairan, now fully clothed in his usual simple attire, a linen tunic and pants.
“Sorry about that! Isaac, thank you for putting the tea on- oh! Galen, you haven’t met Isaac, have you?”
“I have not.”
“We haven’t had the pleasure.” Isaac smiled at him.
“Galen, this is Isaac- he’s a friend of mine. A merchant, I’m sure you saw the caravans? Maybe you heard people talking about it, they usually stop here and in town for the summer. Isaac and I- he’s, um, he’ll be in town for a few months. Staying with me, that is. This is your first summer here, so you didn’t know.” Avairan said quickly, slightly more flustered than he usually got when explaining things. “I apologize for not saying anything- it’s routine at this point so I didn’t think of it.” He smiled sheepishly, face a little red.
Galen wondered what he had done to aggravate the population of the small village so that in his entire five months of being here and working under Avarian, not a single soul had thought to mention that his mentor apparently lived with a man for at least two months of the year and they presumably slept in the same room. Had he offended them somehow? Made light of a local custom or superstition? He knew a few folks had caught onto his- his admiration for Avairan and thought it was silly- making eyes at someone ten years his senior. It didn’t matter. Hopeful fantasies were allowed. They were a foundation of youth, really, if you asked him. Not that anyone did.
Of course, he might have appreciated a word about the tall handsome traveller that rode into town and, he assumed , warmed Avairan’s bed every summer- which was common knowledge, apparently. Teeth gritted, he sipped his tea and listened to his mentor continue introductions.
“Isaac, this is Galen. He’s training to be a physician and I'm teaching him what I know, so help him out if he asks, alright?”
Isaac held his hand out across the table, and Galen shook it.
“You from the cape?” Isaac asked, referring to the small town half a day's ride from the village.
“No, further west. Just past Andling.”
“Ah, I see. Nice area, that.” There was no smugness in the remark, which threw Galen a little, who was trying to dislike this man very much as well as justify his dislike beyond mere jealousy. A chair was dragged out slightly and Avairan sat down on the other side of him and Isaac, setting down his own cup of tea.
“Isaac, go put some clothes on.”
“Put on tea, put on clothes. Anything else you’d like?”
“Since you asked, you could toast some of that bread in the pantry. So Galen, what did you want to ask me about?”
So much had happened in the short time since he’d arrived that Galen had almost forgotten why he'd come in the first place.
“Right. Um, well- I was wondering, what you would recommend…” Galen launched into a few scenarios he’d been going over, wanting to get Avairan’s input. They were all things he’d noticed in his studies, and made notes to ask about further. Why Avairan favoured certain remedies over others, specific situations that could arise, and the like. Avairan listened earnestly, chiming in occasionally and filling him in on his thoughts afterwards. His demeanour remained pleasant, a balm to the worry that Galen might have annoyed him by showing up unannounced, or had interrupted a private morning. The only indication that he had interrupted anything, in fact, had re-entered the room fully dressed and was now sitting across from him, apparently content to sit in on this whole conversation. He tried to politely ignore the man- Isaac - but did occasionally sneak a glance over to see him contentedly drinking tea and seemingly engaged in the answers Avairan was giving. He noticed Isaac’s eyes were different colours, one brown and one green. Focus slipping on the conversation, he began to wonder; what kind of man was this that was so close to Avairan? When had the two met, and how long did it take for them to grow as close as they seemed now? What qualities did this man have that Avairan liked? Good looking, he could admit that much, but he knew there had to be more than that. Their eyes met and he quickly looked away, feeling caught yet again.
About an hour passed that way, with Isaac getting up occasionally to fetch some food and tidy up, and when the conversation turned to idle chatter Galen felt he had stayed as long as was polite. Isaac took his cup and Avairan insisted on walking him out. He felt embarrassingly doted on.
“I’ll clean up. Nice to meet you, Galen.”
“Likewise.”
Outside the hut, insects chirped and the air felt heavy with humidity. It was just him and Avairan.
“Thank you for humouring me,” Galen began, “and for the tea. I, uh, I am sorry if I caught you unawares-”
“Not at all. You didn’t. Please don’t apologize.” Avairan’s hair, still mussed slightly, shone in the early afternoon light. “I’m the one who forgot to mention Isaac would be here.” There was a pause, and Galen wondered if he would elaborate on his relationship to the man. He did not, and after a few moments of silence Galen accepted that it was unlikely.
“I was surprised to see someone else in your roo-in your home, is all.”
Avairan flushed very slightly.
“Yes, I can see how that would be a bit surprising,” he admitted, then chuckled. “I suppose I come off as a bit of a hermit, don’t I? Please be good to him, and feel free to ask him for any help. He’s reliable. I’ll see you in a couple days, alright Galen?” And with that he left Galen standing outside to make his own way for the rest of the afternoon, with the entire encounter turning over in his mind.
He mulled it over as he walked across the fields, back to the small outcropping of houses. He hadn't imagined the smug feeling he got from Isaac had he? Was he just jealous? Could Isaac tell? Surely he couldn’t have picked up on Galen’s feelings just from a single meeting. He hoped not. He began to think that his life was becoming uniquely complicated, in the way that many young people think their lives often are.