~ This Present Peace ~
Viktor stood behind the bar, tapping his fingers his face a mask of frustration. What is it? I can feel it, almost a presence, but … of what?
“Viktor?”
The manservant looked up into his master’s eyes. “I’m sorry, m’Lord. I was lost in thought. What can I do for your this fine evening?”
“You can start by telling me what has you so troubled. Not an order, you understand, just a … concerned request from a friend.”
Viktor pursed his lips. “There is not much to say, Lord Stefano. I simply have the unsettling feeling of foreboding. I just cannot determine why.”
“Could it have anything to do with Father’s announcement of wolven?”
“That is most likely the cause. Thank you, m’Lord. I feel much less burdened.”
“I am pleased. I would like a glass of my brandy, please. And have you seen my chylde this evening? He is not in our room.”
Viktor set the glass on the bar. “Lord Gerik did come down earlier. He said he was going for a swim.”
Stefano headed for the balcony, glass in hand. “Excellent. I may join him, it sounds like a brilliant notion.”
Stefano stepped onto the wet sand and scanned the sea while he sipped his drink. Most times I have to plead with him to join me. I am glad if he is more comfortable in the water. Mayhaps he finds swimming as clearing for mind and soul as I do. He caught the flash of movement along one of the rock formations and narrowed his eyes to sharpen his gaze. I believe … yes, it’s him. But what is he doing? It looks like – is he? He is. He is climbing. Must be much more at ease, he didn’t care for the heights when I took him there last.
Stefano rested on one of the boulders in the area and watched his chylde. The rush of water over his bare feet was enjoyable. He took another slow drink, then stood up. What is he…? I do not believe he is actually going to jump? By the Fates, he just dove off the rock face! How deep is that area, I don’t remember checking.
Stefano set his glass down and had removed his shirt before the familiar shape surfaced a slight distance from his splash point. He watched in amazement as Gerik swam back to the same rocks and began climbing them again. Alright Stefano, relax. He is fine; not being reckless, though I am surprised at his climbing, not to mention diving into the sea. He will have much to explain when he returns. Now at ease, Stefano picked his glass back up before he sat and went back to watching Gerik.
The light of the wolfmoon shimmered on the surface of the water and surfed the waves in sparkles. A light breeze was blowing and the tide was rising, submerging more and more of Stefano’s legs. His gaze slipped from his chylde to the stars over the horizon.
I am at such peace. Even Vargon’s news of wolven does not seem to be of any importance at the present. I am in love with a man who loves me in return. My family is together and safe. I could simply …
His thoughts were broken by a splash of water in his face and a giggle. He refocused to his right and caught Gerik scooping water in both hands. His chylde looked at him and grinned, then threw the water again at Stefano’s face.
“Wake up Stef. You’ve been sitting here in a trance; I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past couple minutes.”
“My apologies, my heart.” Stefano stood and unbuttoned his trousers. He let them fall to into the water and kicked them in Gerik’s direction.
Gerik laughed as he ducked beneath the water-logged clothing. “You should warn someone before you throw things.”
Stefano stopped short as his eyes misted over. He shivered in the warm air and swallowed hard. “I … I suppose … I should.” His voice was distant, his gaze unfocused.
“Stef? What’s wrong? Did I do something? Are you feeling ill?” Gerik fired questions at Stefano rapidly, not giving time to answer.
Stefano shook his head then looked at his chylde. “Sorry, my heart. I was just reminded of an earlier time. A much earlier time.”
“Would you tell me of it?
“Come.” Stefano turned and walked to the stairs, then sat on a step. Gerik sat further down, watching his sire closely, as if he didn’t know what to expect. Stefano smiled and wiped a lone tear from his cheek. “I was so young then, younger than you when we first met. I was in training, learning simple matters – how to add or remove numbers; the different gypsy seasons and high-days; typical Rom subjects, I suppose. I had a good friend, his name…” He wiped another tear from his face. “his name was Nikolos.”
Gerik waited a few moments before speaking. “Go on, Stef. I would like to know more, if you would. But it looks like this is causing you great pain.”
Stefano reached down to stroke Gerik’s cheek. “It is a good memory. We were just playing in the meadow nearby – avoiding our training. It was a good day – winter time – snow was over knee depth. Nikolos had thrown a snowball at me while I was turned away from him.” He smiled broadly.” He yelled ‘Duck’ just before it hit. Knocked me face down in the snow. My reaction, once I brushed most of the cold from my face and chest, was to tell him he should warn somebody before throwing something at them…” He gazed into the distance. “In many ways, you remind me of him. The same playful spirit,” his eyes returned to Gerik, “the same incredible eyes.”
Gerik pursed his lips in thought. “Do you see him when you look at me?”
“What? No, my heart. I see you. The man I love. Perhaps your similarities to another drew my attention to you initially, but it is your spirit, your being, that I adore.”
“So then, what became of … Nikolos?”
Sorrow flooded Stefano’s presence. “The men of the camp were on a hunt – Nikolos had moved to circle in from the right, I was on the left.”
Gerik remained silent, listening and watching his sire.
“He never came out of the thicket. He was there, we heard a shout, and he was gone.”
“You never saw him again?”
“No.”
“It sounds like he was very important to you.”
“He was,” Stefano stood. “But that is enough reminiscing. If I remember correctly, you had just …” He bent down and splashed water on Gerik.
Within moments they were waist-deep in the surging foam-coated surf, laughing, splashing, and pushing each other beneath the waves.
Later, while lying on the beach star gazing, Gerik rolled to his side towards Stefano. “I suppose then I’m glad I have a resemblance to him.”
“Him? Oh. Nikolos. Yes? Why does it please you?”
Gerik leaned in for a kiss.
“I would not have met you otherwise.”