Spearing the Siren

TWENTY-THREE

      The flap to the hideaway lifted and Lillevenn hunched over as he placed a foot inside before he saw them curled up on the bed he'd occupied a week ago. He backed out.

      Ingrid rose from the twin trees, fully dressed. Her heart compressed when Lillevenn turned toward her with a look that might have been uncomfortable. She tucked her hands behind her back, giving him a guilty face.
      "Do you hate me?"
      He gave her a tolerant look but dim amusement mellowed it.
     "For sleeping with my father or something else?"
      She sighed as she walked closer.
      "I'm sorry, I was determined to be good, but..."
      "You don't have to apologize to me, Ingrid," he said in a level tone, not the harshest he'd used. "I'm glad, in truth. He should be with someone who appreciates him."
     Her heart lit up as she smiled at him.
      "Oh I do, Lil! He's amazing."
      The tolerance melted a little more in his eyes.
      "He is. I'm glad you see that."
      "He's perfect, Lil. I don't want to hurt you..."
      "I know you don't." He gave her a hesitant look. "Is it more than sex?"
      She smiled before she could stop herself.
      "I won't deny that it's..." She sighed happily before she sobered. "I probably shouldn't say that..."
      Lillevenn gave her a kind look.
      "You know I've never been the jealous type."
She brought her hands together.
      "To answer your question, it absolutely is. See what we're building?" He didn't turn to look, giving her a quiet, warm look. "He said he should build a dwelling now that I'm here...he teaches me things. He's teaching me to read..." She faltered at his curious look. "Oh, yes, I was embarrassed to tell you."
      He nodded soberly. "I'm probably not that much of a teacher, anyway."
      She walked up to him, giving him a hesitant look.
      "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I was so messed up..." He gave her serious green eyes but didn't interrupt, as she expected. She wrung her hands. "After what happened with the war, I felt so...lost, without purpose. I think I paired you with the war and our place in it, so when it didn't happen, I began questioning so many things, and I didn't know how to be with you."
      He nodded. "That makes more sense."
      She gave him a pleading look and his gaze gentled. She walked closer and hesitantly stood on her tippy-toes as she hugged his neck. His arms came slowly around her, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
      "Is this okay?" she whispered.
      "I've always wanted you to be happy, Ingrid."
      The flap opened and she stepped back from him, blinking away the tears that had begun filling her eyes. Krampus gave his son a tentative look.
      "Hello, little satyr."
      Ingrid's gaze softened on him for the moniker.
      "I didn't mean to interrupt," Lillevenn said quietly. Krampus shook his head.
      "You will never interrupt."
      Ingrid watched the way they looked at each other, with quiet affection and admiration, and she looked down at the ground.
      "I just came to check on you."
      Krampus' gaze warmed on him.
      "Thank you, son. Would you like to stay for breakfast?" Krampus walked past him to a bin on the other side of the foundation of the small dwelling, Lillevenn turning to look after him. Ingrid took the opportunity to duck back inside the trees.

      Lillevenn sauntered up to where his father prepared some berries and edible bark for him. Lillevenn took the stone bowl, giving him a gentle look.
      "You don't have to be embarrassed, you know."
      His father gave him a hesitant look.
      "I didn't plan this—"
      Lillevenn chuckled. "Oh, I know." He nibbled on a berry, giving him smiling eyes.
      "How is your chancellor?"
      Lillevenn gave him a warm look.
      "We haven't seen each other since I went after Ingrid."
      "Oh? Is everything all right?"
      "As far as I know. I suppose if he wants to see me, he'll track me down."
      His father chuckled and Lillevenn smiled at him.
      "Oh, my sweet satyr, you are so my child."
      Lillevenn smiled at him fondly.
      "I have that privilege, yes." His father's autumn eyes sobered as they remained on him, and the look was worth a thousand words. He squeezed one of his biceps. "I'm happy for you, Father. No need to stand on ceremony with me. I've had many partners in my lifetime."
      "But this one you really cared about."
      Lillevenn looked down at his bowl. "I still do," he said quietly.
      "I wouldn't want to separate you—"
      His little satyr gave him a kind look that wrapped around his heart.
      "You could never cause me unhappiness."
      Krampus looked down and Lillevenn softened, seeing he had an emotional moment. He wrapped his arm around his muscular waist and Krampus' hand rested gently on his head between his antlers. It surprised him how comfortable he was, in his father's embrace, since he'd never been one for hugs. Maybe he was, but he'd spent so long in his grandmother's domain, affection seemed so distant.