Wolfgan clutched the letter in his hands, completely forgetting about the freshly hunted bear in front of him, still bleeding it's life away. Snow was falling down heavy and hard, but he never missed a hunt. One of his own soldiers had brought the folded letter to him. The message was vague and simple, but Wolfgan was already getting ordering Kalifar and another soldier to harvest what they could for him, while he walked away from the bloody scene, parchment in hand.
...I need you to come to Calim immediately. As soon as possible, Wolfgan.
The wordings were so very needy and lacking of any formality. He wasn't calling himself prince, anymore. He was just Geoffrey, and Wolfgan was just Wolfgan. It felt intimate to the point where he didn't want anyone else to touch it.
Please...
He pleaded. No more than once and not enough, but it was there. He was asking for him, but not for something.
Geoffrey wanted him back. It was the only way he could interpret it. There was nothing left for him to say. His words were vulnerable but trusting.
It didn't take long for him to organize his leaving.
-.-
Calim's sky was golden and quickly darkening as the sun disappeared, when he reached his destination.
He unmounted in the small stable of the temple, and walked up to the doors with no formality. He with few companions, as Calim was well patrolled by his soldiers now. The temple was quiet, as it was close to nightfall and near time to lit the candles. He entered, seeing only the usual dwellers, who greeted him in fear or surprise. Or both.
"Where is him?" he asked no one in particular. They all knew exactly who he was searching for, and a woman with long and brown braided hair meekly responded.
"He's at the top of the temple, my lord."
Wolfgan nodded and he turned to the soldiers, ordering to stay below.
He was quick to walk up the stairs. At the to he found a small door, that he had to bend to get through. The room was humid and smelled of vegetation, and he found what seemed to be a garden inside. Further by the windows stood Geoffrey, bathed in the sunset lights. He was wearing white robes again, and this time he was sure it was on porpoise.
"You're here," Geoffrey said, looking back. His eyes were shy and not quite meeting his.
"Of course I am."
He walked closer, and he could see Geoffrey was completely out of his element. He wasn't sure of himself. He had no plans and no traps. He was bare.
"You want to come back," Wolfgan said, saving Geoffrey the trouble. He could not hide a smile when Geoffrey nodded.
"You want to be my queen. You want to be mine, Geoffrey," he said again. He did not expected an answer, but Geoffrey looked up at him and there was hurt in his eyes.
"You left me," Geoffrey said, "You left me and I didn't know what to do."
"You never told me to keep you," Wolfgan responded. "I wanted you to be happy."
"You're supposed to know!" Geoffrey raised his voice, exasperated. His voice wobbled as if he was about to cry. "You're supposed to know these things, not me."
"Why not you, Geoffrey?" he asked. The elf paused.
"Because... I don't. I don't know. I need you," he sobbed, frustration showing in his icy eyes.
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Karma (m/m)
الخيال (فانتازيا)The trolls are invading the south, and there is nothing else Prince Geoffrey can do but to ask the Warlord of Hull for help. But the warlord wants something in return, something Geoffrey might not be ready to give.
