Day 2 - Home
Day 2 of @dennorweek! Hopefully this interpretation of the “home” prompt works okay; I always have a lot of fun writing these two as teenagers
As always, ao3 link can be found here
Word count: 2.6k / Warnings: background mention of death and illness
"What do you mean, you have lessons again this afternoon? How many do you have?"
To say Mathias was annoyed would have been an understatement. It had been weeks since Eirik had last hung out with him. Hope had dawned at the sight of his best friend watching the horses graze from his usual spot on the fence, only to be cruelly dashed. Eirik had only come here for a bit of fresh air before his next lesson. It just wasn't fair.
Eirik sighed in that exasperated manner he saved for whenever Mathias got on his nerves or said something stupid.
"As many as befits the future Lord of the House."
"Can't you just skive or something? I haven't seen you in ages."
"I wish I could." Eirik continued to viciously scrape his shiny new boots against the fence. "You can't imagine how pointless they all are. I decided to try and learn something useful for myself the other day, and everyone acted as if I'd started learning necromancy. I hate it."
Mathias wasn't entirely sure what necromancy was, but he kept his mouth shut. Realising his friend was just frustrated as he was suddenly caused most of his annoyance to vanish. Eirik hadn't done it on purpose. Eirik liked spending time with him. He wasn't sure why those thoughts were making him dizzy - maybe he should drink more water? - but oh well! It was good to hear his voice again.
"What were you trying to learn?"
"Human anatomy. I borrowed a book from our library." Eirik scowled. "My parents made a big fuss about how I should put healing magic out of my mind entirely. They said my 'foolish excursions' to the sewers had put all the wrong ideas in me and if they ever caught me down there again, they would send me off to the monastery to learn some manners."
"Ouch. That's pretty harsh of them."
"Very."
Eirik's obsession with healing magic was nothing new. From the crumbs of gossip Mathias had heard from his mother, the first thing the young lord had wanted to do when his magic manifested itself was mend things. Broken toys at first, then chipped glasses and smashed vases, followed by tears in the servants' clothing. As his mastery of his abilities grew, he had turned his attention to the human body. Papercuts and bruises, then inflammations and sprains, followed by common colds and the flu.
Much to Mathias' bewilderment, Eirik's parents disapproved of using his magic for such purposes. That was healers' work, they claimed, unbefitting of a nobleman. He was better off learning mind reading and fortune telling, so he could maintain their reputation and ensure their finances continued to prosper. Advice the teenager stubbornly refused to heed. And ever since his parents had forbidden the family healer from having any contact with him, Eirik had taken to making the long trek into town, where he offered his services to sewer dwellers.
Unsurprisingly, not one person in the entire household, regardless of their position, approved of such risky behaviour. The sewers were a dangerous place. The future Lord of their household had no business spending so much time there.
"But like, I know you hate admitting it, but your parents do have a point. The sewers are dangerous. What if something happens to you while you're down there? Or you bring back a contagious disease?"
There were times, Mathias had been told, mostly by his parents, when it was best to keep your mouth shut. Apparently, this should have been one of those times. The glare his best friend shot him could have easily turned him to stone.
"Things wouldn't be so dire down there if my parents bothered to provide them food, clean water, and a healer or two. But instead, they choose to do nothing. We own fields upon fields of wheat, yet once we've harvested it all, we sell most of it to whoever pays us the most. Almost none of the people living under our supposed protection benefit from it. Why should we be surprised we're so disliked in the sewers, when we could be doing so much for them, but refuse to?"
"That doesn't make it your responsibility to go down there and risk your life on a daily basis."
"Doesn't it?" Eirik raised an eyebrow. "You know, if you're that worried for my personal safety, you can always accompany me. Didn't you say you'd been asking the guards for lessons?"
For years to come, Mathias would never be able to explain what compelled him to agree to such a risky plan. But agree he did, and the look of triumph on his best friend's face caused his breath to catch, any lingering doubt fleeing him entirely.
--
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Mathias asked for what felt like the hundredth time.
As he spoke, his boots sank into yet another puddle, filling them with even more water. There was now a definite squelching sound with every step he took, his socks far beyond drenched; all he could hope for was that the water contained only mud. Eirik, on the other hand, navigated the dark alleyways with a grace that suggested he passed through here more frequently than he would have everyone believe. The state of his footwear was of no concern to him - he almost seemed to relish getting his boots mucky, in fact. There was a liveliness to him tonight that Mathias had never seen before. Whenever the dark clouds parted, the moonlight seemed to catch in his eyes, revealing the joy fuelled by this small act of rebellion.
Mathias wished he could feel the same. He had always considered himself to have a sense of adventure - hadn't he always been climbing the tallest trees when he was younger? Hadn't he often dreamt of making the long trek to the capital all by himself someday? - but trudging through alleyways under the cover of night, knowing full well that if anyone caught them, they would be in big trouble, was not fun. Especially when Eirik was depending on him for protection.
Not that Mathias was too worried about fighting someone one on one. His training was going well, and he usually won more fights than he lost. Most importantly, he was well-fed, and therefore far stronger than the emaciated sewer-dwellers. What chance did any one of them have against him? None whatsoever. Unless they ganged up on him. Or they separated the two of them. Mathias didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if something happened to Eirik. There was no telling him that, however. Eirik had been annoyed at him ever since he had opened his mouth to complain the first time.
"I didn't force you to come. Now stop complaining and get a move on. You're dawdling."
Mathias opened his mouth to argue - he was going as fast as he could in the current circumstances, thank you very much! - but Eirik was already halfway up the closest wall, and there were suddenly more important things to save his breath for. Over the wall, down a few more alleyways, underneath a bridge, on and on they tredged, until finally, they reached the entrance to the sewers.
It didn't look quite like what he had expected. Just high enough for him to stand upright, and wide enough for the two of them to stand by side, if not for the grate that covered it. A door had been added at a later date - when people first started to live down here, if he had to guess - low and narrow. It wasn't locked. As Eirik pushed it open, its rusty hinges groaned in such a high pitch, it made both boys wince. Inside was pitch-black. Were they really going in there?
Yes, they were. Pinching his nose and taking one last breath of fresh air, Mathias followed Eirik inside.
It stank. No, it reeked. The stench of human waste was so foul it made Mathias gag. Did people really live down here? The floor was slippery and damp, uneven in so many places they found themselves splashing through who knows what more often than not. How Eirik knew where he was going, Mathias had no clue. Not even a hint of light slipped through the thick walls or ceiling.
After what felt like an eternity, they stopped. To their right, a small lamp was glowing, shedding light on a tunnel that people had clearly attempted to keep the waste and dirty water out of many times.
"Shoes off," Eirik whispered, already barefoot.
"What? The floor's filthy!"
"It'll be even filthier with you stomping around in those boots of yours." His tone softened. "It's not that bad, I promise."
It was a good thing Mathias liked Eirik. There was really no one else he would do anything like this for. And, although he wouldn't go so far as to say the other boy was right, he did have a point. The stone was cold and slippery beneath his feet, but at least there weren't any more puddles to step in.
The deeper they went, the more signs of life they spotted. Small lamps like the one a while back lined the rounded walls, dimly illuminating whatever happened to be in close proximity. Buckets filled to the brim with murky water, piles of animal bones, heaps of torn rags and dirty laundry... Next came the blankets haphazardly lying around that people must have been using as beds, and the sound of babies crying and people shouting further ahead. Instinctively, Mathias reached for the small axe at his belt, muscles tensing. He almost asked Eirik to walk behind him, but decided against it. The order was more likely to be mocked than appreciated, he imagined. No, he would just have to be ready to pull him out the way at the slightest sign of trouble.
Another branching split the tunnel - into three this time. A crudely drawn medical symbol had been etched into the wall to their left, and it was that tunnel they entered next. They were immediately greeted by a nervous young man dressed in rags.
"Thank goodness you're here! We've been doing our best, but..." he bit a cracked lip.
"I'm sure you have," Eirik told him gently. "Where are they?"
"Over here. We've kept them separate from everyone else as you suggested last time, but well, you know how quickly diseases spread down here." Only then did the man seem to notice Mathias. His smile was polite but puzzled. "And who is this?"
"A close friend of mine. His name's Mathias. He works with horses, but he's learning how to fight." Eirik turned to Mathias. "Mathias, this is Tolys. He's in charge of the sewers' clinic."
It didn't look like much and smelt like death. Rows of old, thin blankets served as beds for the sick and dying, far too close to one another than was custom. Here, too, the only light came from the small lamps on the walls, making it difficult to see who lay in each bed or why they were there. Frequent coughing fits echoed in Mathias' ears, followed by cries and shrieks that sent shivers down his spine. He hadn't thought things would be that bad down here. No wonder Eirik insisted on helping out whenever he could get away with it.
And speaking of Eirik, his friend was following Tolys at a brisk pace, apparently perfectly at home in such dire conditions. He crouched down before a small bundle that Mathias realised was a child so exhausted they were barely breathing, and placed a hand on their forehead, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his eyes fluttered shut.
Someone further back called for Tolys, and the man jumped into action, not even sparing Mathias a glance as he ran to help whoever needed him. Eirik wasn't in danger here. Who in their right mind would kill one of the only people willing to help them? But if that was the case, what was Mathias doing here?
He waited until Eirik's eyes had opened again to tap him on the shoulder.
"What do you need help with?"
So many emotions flashed across his face in such a short expanse of time, it could have given Mathias whiplash. Surprise, then relief, followed by gratitude, and something else... that slight quirk of his lips betrayed a smile warmer than the sun.
"I should have things handled here. But ask Tolys. You're stronger than everyone here; they might need your help to carry some things."
"On it!"
It was impossible to say how many hours they spent in the sewer clinic. The only thing it was possible to say was that Mathias didn't think he could ever grow used to these tunnels. The crying never stopped, the lighting remained too dim, and the stench was something he wasn't convinced anyone could get used to. He was also pretty sure walking would be painful the next few days, until his new blisters healed. It wasn't pleasant, and he found himself missing the great outdoors more and more with every task he was handed.
Eirik, on the other hand, was in his element. He drifted from patient to patient, talking in soft, reassuring tones as he examined them. He made simple ointments from the meagre supplies Tolys had managed to gather, occasionally asking Mathias to remind him that he needed to bring more of this or that the next time he stopped by, and explained their purpose as clearly as he could. More often than not, he would use his magic to help them, his eyebrows furrowing as he lended them strength so their bodies could fight off the worst of their ailments.
If Mathias hadn't known any better, he would have thought his best friend had been born here. He didn't bat an eyelid when his clothes were tarnished by a particularly sick patient, nor did he raise his voice at the stubborn ones who refused to take what he gave them. He spoke in the common tongue rather than with the long, eloquent sentences his parents and tutors had taught him. Even the slang that had arisen in the sewers was familiar to him. There could be no doubt that he spent a lot of time here - far more, even, than he had led anybody to believe. If Eirik were to tell him that he considered the sewer clinic his second home, Mathias would believe him in a heartbeat.
It was a side to him Mathias had never imagined he would one day see. One he clearly did all he could to keep secret. His parents would be furious if they ever found out about it; as much as Mathias liked to think they would never go that far, such disregard of their authority was worthy of disinheritance. Yet, as he carried another bucket of water to a different section of the clinic, Mathias couldn't help but feel honoured that Eirik had shared it with him.
Eventually, Tolys called them over.
"It's almost dawn. Thank you both for your help, but I think you should head home soon and get some rest. You've done a lot tonight."
As if on command, Eirik yawned, rubbing his temples with a pained wince. He looked paler than he had earlier, and there was a noticeable tremble to his hands. Exhausted, probably. He shot Mathias another one of those small smiles he was starting to grow attached to, and the stableboy realised with a jolt that maybe Eirik was seeing a new side to him as well. The thought made his heart flutter. He smiled back.
As they left the sewers and slowly made their way back to the manor, only one thought crossed Mathias' mind, again and again, like the incessant chirping of the songbird outside his bedroom window.
I think I'm in love with him.