Chapter 19- Ian

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Ian hated the smell of hospitals. The pesticide in the air, the soft footsteps, the quiet beeping of outdated machinery. He felt selfish for wanting to be comforted. Spencer was being avoidant and cold, leaving in the middle of the day for hours with no explanation, smelling of foul cedars and oils. Ian assumed that his absence was from his treatment plan, but with a family history of illness, Ian saw firsthand the procedures for various plagues and diseases so he knew he was being lied to. He sighed and rubbed his shabby blond hair, trying to remember the last time he was even told "I love you." He focused his attention on his feet, tapping them in rhythm as his body froze, hunched over the metal chair. Spencer never wanted to go on walks or picnics like Cale did, Ian tried so hard to make Spencer happy but- nothing was considered even a second glance.

The connected tubes and bloodied bandages on Cale's exposed chest reminded him of how they met. Cale worked at "The Shamrock," a small tavern near the capital of Ian's kingdom. It was a sorrowful day. The clouds had fully covered the sun, showing no light through the smog. It was Ian's thirteenth birthday. Cale was doing his daily rounds, cleaning the waxed tables and refilling giant wooden barrels when he heard the front door swing open. "We're closed!" Cale had announced to the echoing bar. He turned around, throwing the dirty rag over his shoulder. His broad figure illuminated in the essence. For a thirteen year old, he had quite the build. He had taken shifts at the tavern to raise enough as an escape to the city life. He had nothing to live for here, a dead end job, parents that don't love him, his life wasn't interesting at all. In that moment, A small boy with blond hair stumbled in the doorway, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. He was fully naked with blood and a clear fluid dripping down his legs. He had an array of clothes clutched to his chest but the way he was moving, he seemed to be drugged. "Your highness!" Cale called out, rushing to help the boy steady himself. "Do you need medical attention? Should I call for a guard?" He led the boy to a chair and grabbed a warm wet rag and started dabbing Ian's swollen eyes. "I don't have fresh clothes here but-" Cale paused for a moment and swung his shirt off, giving it to the boy. "This should suffice until you're able to return. Can you speak?" He leaned in to check for any swelling on Ian's neck but was met with a crooked smile. "You're cute." Ian slurred. "I like your pecs, I wanna touch 'em."

Cale jumped back, his face turning a bright shade of scarlet. "Your majesty!" He exclaimed, turning around to calm himself. "I would suggest that you get dressed, it's not very royal like to be nude in front of a commoner." Ian scoffed and shuffled the clothes on, liking that the shirt was baggy enough to cover his thighs. He leaned forward and groaned, clutching his head. "God why does everything feel like death?" He blinked back the pain and Cale snapped his fingers in recognition of Ian's problem. "Magic." he realized, the symptoms coming into play. He rushed over to a cabinet and pulled out a brass key, looking over his shoulder. "Isn't that illegal?" Ian asked, a smirk appearing on his face as his eyebrows crooked. "Would be a shame If I threw you in jail for practicing botanical healing after what happened to our dear King." Cale felt his face wash with white. King Kayan had grown ill a month ago, Someone had slipped crushed belladonna into his daily tonic and he was confided to the hospital. Queen Julianna had then banned any partake with plant and medical healing. "I mean if you would like to explain to your mother why a barkeep found you intoxicated then be my guest."

"Fair enough." Ian mumbled. The aroma of lavender filled the room as Cale handed him a wooden cup of a sickly yellow liquid. Ian cautiously took a sip and gasped heavily in relief. The pain in his head had immediately vanished. He quickly drank the rest, enjoying the honey-like taste and handed the cup back to Cale. "Thank you," He said gratefully. Cale set the cup down and pulled up a chair. "Can I ask what happened?" He said quietly, his eyes growing into concern. Ian felt his face grow hot with how kind the stranger was being. He had given him clothes and tea, sure it could be because he was a royal but this felt- different than mindless gifts. He felt safe, a feeling he had long forgotten. He took a deep breath. "Today's my birthday. I'm thirteen as of a few hours ago, and my girlfriend An-" He stopped himself. He didn't like her name anymore. It felt so disgusting and vile now. "A. Her name is A." Cale looked confused "A for what?" Ian sighed and felt a tingling in his chest. "She doesn't deserve to have a name." His voice dripped with poison and Cale listened intently, watching how handsome Ian's eyes were. He had a weird aching to hug the boy, despite them just meeting. "She told me that she had planned a celebration for me, Her sister and my best friend Vi-" again he paused and Cale let out a soft smile. "V." He corrected. Without thinking, Cale reached out and pressed a hand to Ian's shaking ones. Ian didn't notice and continued speaking, enjoying the warmth. "There were a few others but they had decorated masks on and weird robes. So I assumed it was some kind of masquerade like the kind we have at home." He didn't know why he was telling this boy so much, but he couldn't stop. Speaking about it helped. "So A led me through this narrow closet and then locked the door." He felt his eyes well up with tears. "I was so stupid. She told me to drink something because it would make me feel more loose, and then- I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. It hurt so much." He sobbed, pulling his head forward in his hands. Cale's mind short circuited as he reached up and hugged Ian, stroking his hair. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay. I'm here now. I'll protect you. I'll always protect you." He whispered, hoping Ian couldn't hear how loud his heart was beating.

Ever since that day, the two of them were inseparable. Ian would stop by every day and the two would talk for hours. Eventually, Cale had raised enough money to travel like his dream, but he would have to leave Ian. They had been friends for months now and Cale had felt that he was holding Ian back, so he packed up the shop for the last time and left Ian a letter. He took his suitcase to the docks and handed the captain his ticket. He was an elderly man with pure white hair and a beard that ended in a small swirl. No turning back now. "Cale!" A familiar voice yelled, had it be anyone else, his heart would've stopped. But Ian's voice always made his heart swell. He sighed and the captain gave him a sorrowful look. "What?" He asked, turning around to meet Ian's eyes. He was wearing some kind of fencing outfit, it looked...nice. It hugged his body in the right places and made Cale's stomach do flips. Ian's eyes were tired and his hair looked undone. Had he slept on the floor somewhere? Cale felt concern, the urge to care for Ian's wellbeing. But it was too late for that now. "What are you doing?" Ian had asked, his eyes pricking with tears as he glanced at the suitcase. "You're leaving? Why?" Ian's voice choked. Cale paused, giving Ian a cold stare. "I'm getting in your way. You have a kingdom to reign, a family to start. I don't have anything." Ian reached forward, grabbing Cale's hand. "What do you want? Just tell me and I can do everything in my power to give it to you." His voice strained. Cale squeezed Ian's hand. "I want you." He said, leaning forward slightly. "God Ian you're so oblivious sometimes and I hate that I love that about you. You're breathtaking and heart-wrenching without reason. Your voice is the only thing I wish to hear and your hands are the only ones I wish to hold. But you don't want me and that's why I have to do this. I have to go." He was crying at this point, hating himself for it. But this was Ian. This was good. "I want you too." Ian laughed, reaching forward and hugging Cale in a tight embrace. "If you truly wish to explore the world, I won't stop your dreams. But don't say it's because I don't want you more than oxygen." Cale laughed with a tear choked voice and dropped the suitcase at his feet, using his free hands to hold Ian tighter.

- - - - -

Ian realized that the man laying in front of him wasn't the one he fell in love with. This was a man he had grieved over and moved on from. A breathing corpse. "It was easier when you were dead." He said loudly to the unconscious male. "I don't know who you are, but you are not my boyfriend." He couldn't do this. This was too hard. He stood up, making his way to the door behind him when he heard a very quiet noise. "Ian?" Cale whispered, looking at him with a look that could only be described as pure love. "I missed you so much." He wheezed. Ian turned around and silently walked to Cale's bedside. "You deserve an explanation." He reached out his hand, a sign of comfort. Ian took it and let out a deep exhale. "You need to rest. Whatever you have to say, It can wait." He smiled gently as he squeezed Cale's hand. Suddenly, Cale sat up, struggling while doing so, but still being somewhat successful in doing so. "This can't." He winced, clutching his bruised sides. "That woman, A, She approached me. I didn't recognize her so I poured her a drink. She said that she had a proposition for me. I had to play a charade game, and she would pay me." He closed his eyes in shame. "All I had to do was say I was joining the royal guard and do some errands. I wouldn't have been able to contact you but- the gold would be worth it." Ian gave him a confused look. "What gold could be worth lying to me for?" Answering his question, Cale shakily reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden wedding ring. "I was gonna propose to you, that day in the barn, I had everything planned." Cale said, sliding the ring onto Ian's finger. It fit perfectly. "But I had a blackout, and woke up in a dark room. She- did things. I lost count of how many days had passed." Ian felt his blood run cold. He never wanted this for Cale. "I'm so sorry." Ian mumbled, knowing that isn't close to what Cale deserves. He shook his head slightly in confusion. "Wait how did you know it was her?" Cale took a deep breath. "One day she told me that she had...raped you. She was bragging about it."

Ian clutched his fists in anger, his fingernails digging into his skin. "So Spencer, huh?" Cale smirked, changing the subject. "I heard the elf talking, a prince? Nice. Does he treat you well?" He asked, genuine concern in his voice. Ian sighed. "I don't know, I don't think so. He's not you, that's for sure." Cale snickered, leaning forward and kissing Ian's hands. "Well if you ever need someone to rescue you, A friendly barkeep is on your side." Ian smiled, wondering if their relationship would be savable after all.

In that moment, Ophelia barged through the doors, panting with tears streaming down her face. "Ian." Her voice quivered. Her dress was torn and smeared with blood and dirt. She was missing a shoe. Her hair was messy and hung over one eye, evident that she had just ran a great distance. "We need to talk."

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