A Benignant Mischief is so good, will it be updated anytime soon? Thank you so much!
A Benignant Mischief (8)
Read part one // continued from here
My boys, they deserve the best comforts🫶🥺🥹
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Once Nikolas returned, he and Henrik escorted the two boys back to the room the King had shown Cosimo before the boy woke up. Cosimo walked beside the boy, the fox in his arms, his small fingers buried in her orange fur as they followed the humans.
“How are you feeling?” Cosimo asked lightly. He could feel the boy’s suspicion oozing from him, in the way his form was too rigid, and the way he didn’t take his whiskey-coloured eyes from the two men in front of them.
“I’ll feel much better once we are alone,” the boy replied.
Cosimo swallowed a sigh. “They are good men.”
The boy didn’t answer. Cosimo opted to walk the rest of the way in silence, his hand unconsciously going to the nape of his neck trying to knead out the tension knotted there.
Nikolas turned with his warm smile once they reached the room he set up for the boys. Cosimo returned his smile, as papery and fickle as it felt on his face. He opened the door for them and Cosimo gestured for the boy to walk through first. The boy obeyed, out of respect for Cosimo’s rank more than actually wanting to go through, Cosimo suspected. But he would be able to change his mind hopefully… in time.
The boy gave the room a once over before he turned, thoroughly unimpressed as he stared at the King and Henrik. Cosimo stepped in after him and turned to Henrik and Nikolas, making his smile brighter.
“Thank you for everything you have done for us,” he said warmly. “I think we’re both a little tired and will probably retire soon.”
Nikolas inclined his head, while Henrik kept his deep, forest eyes fixed on the boy and the fox. Cosimo swallowed, stepping into Henrik’s line of sight and drawing his gaze down to Cosimo.
“I will guard your door,” Henrik told him quietly so the boy couldn’t hear.
“And I will send someone to fetch some water for your baths,” Nikolas chimed in.
Cosimo’s heart swelled at their kindness and their concern, and was immediately assaulted by a wave of guilt. He abandoned his court. He hsouldn’t have comfort or kindness.
“That is really too much and not necessary,” Cosimo protested but Nikolas waved him away.
“Nonsense, boy. Your hair looks like a raven could nest in it.”
Cosimo flushed pink and let out a soft chuckle. “Perh–”
“How dare you insult his majesty,” the boy snarled behind them. Cosimo’s eyes widened as he turned to see the boy’s face red with fury, his eyes burning with rage.
“It’s okay,” Cosimo said, keeping his voice light. “It was a joke.”
“Perhaps Ne-callus would like me to tell him what I think of his hair?” the boy fumed, his fists balling into the fox’s fur. Cosimo shook his head as he approached the boy.
“It’s okay, please. I know he had no ill-intent.”
“Cosimo has had a long few days,” Henrik told the boy, a bite behind his words. “And I think–”
“Yes. He probably has, no thanks to you.”
Henrik’s nostrils flared but stopped once Nikolas put a hand on his shoulder. “Come friend, let them rest. We will knock once the water is ready.”
Cosimo sighed wearily and nodded. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank us, Cosimo,” Nikolas said earnestly. Henrik nodded at him before he closed the door, and the boys were left alone. Cosimo looked back at the boy as he placed the fox on a couch and walked around the room, inspecting everything like Cosimo had.
Cosimo went to the fire that was lit now, logs crackling within soothing his restless, frantic thoughts. He settled into one of the wine-coloured armchairs and loosed another exhale, feeling his shoulders relax as he did. They were safe. They were alive. The heat from the fire embraced him generously, pouring some life back into his body. He didn’t realise how cold he was until the flames sang to him quietly and chased the coating chill from his skin.
He heard the boy open the door to the bedroom, then the wardrobe, but he didn’t turn his head as the flames danced in front of his eyes, mesmerising. The boy emerged and opened the door to the bathing chambers then, Cosimo assumed, and closed it again after a moment. The boy’s footsteps drifted closer until he stood to the right of the fireplace, comforting in its warmth and looked at Cosimo.
Cosimo turned his gaze to the frowning boy.
“We should go home, Cosimo.”
Cosimo blinked. He didn’t expect that. “What?”
The boy’s frown turned into a pained grimace. “We should go home. Back to the court. Perhaps you misheard the elders. Perhaps this was all some mistake.”
“It wasn’t. They were going to kill you. You know how much elves hate humans…” Cosimo said, frustrated that the boy still had no name. “They said you were a stain on the court, an abomination.”
The boy wrapped his arms around himself and turned his body more towards the fire. They didn’t say anything for a while, a long moment stretched between them before the boy said, “maybe they’re right.”
“What?”
“I trust the elders. They– they’re all the family I’ve ever known, everybody we know is back at court. Our rules. Our customs. They’ve only ever done what is right for us, and if that means killing me, then,” the boy’s head dipped, “so be it.”
Cosimo jolted out of his seat and was on his knees, turning the boy to face him before the boy could finish his sentence. Wide whiskey eyes found Cosimo’s furious ones as he grabbed the boy’s shoulders and squeezed them.
“Don’t you ever say that! Do you hear me? Don’t you ever say such a thing. The Elders are wrong about this, I know that. In my heart, in my soul. In all of their teachings and wisdom, they are wrong. You being different would be an asset to the court, but they are too narrow minded to see that.”
Tears glazed over the boy’s eyes. “I’m… I’m Nemo anyways,” he whispered, his voice filled with sorrow and shame. Cosimo shook his head and pulled the boy in for a hug. The boy stiffened, but relaxed as Cosimo held him tightly.
“You are not nemo,” he told him, conviction colouring his words. The boy wasn’t a shamed nemo, a nobody. He was someone, with a heart and a soul, no matter the shape of his ears. “You’re just different, and it scares those small-minded fools.”
The boy gasped. “Cosimo, you can’t say such things.”
“It’s my future…” Cosimo began but cut himself off, “it was my future court,” he amended. “I can say what I like about them. Besides, it’s true. The Elfbow protected you. You. The fox found you and stayed with you. If that doesn’t say elf, then what does?”
The boy sniffled as wet tears dropped onto Cosimo’s tunic. He held the boy tighter. “I’m sorry you had to find this out so soon after you awoke,” he said softly. “But I am glad you know now. We can… these men, they have offered us a place to live, to start over our lives here. With them, in their court. And I know it may be strange and different at first to grow accustomed to, but that’s how all great adventures start, isn’t it? All of Nestor’s stories, we will be just like the elves in those.”
Cosimo’s heart broke as Nestor’s name fell from his lips, but he pushed the sadness back as he pulled away from the boy. The boy sniffled again, and Cosimo smiled, wiping away his tears with the pads of his thumbs.
“We will be safe here,” Cosimo told him, a wry smile forming on his lips. “If you ever give the humans a chance.”
The boy chuckled weakly.
“I know we were supposed to fear them and not trust them, but they have offered us such kindness that perhaps… perhaps the elders were wrong about them too. Perhaps there is a lot of things that they’re wrong about.”
The boy sniffed. “I think I was wrong too,” he said softly. Cosimo smiled. The boy raised his whiskey-coloured eyes, the corner of his thin lips pulled up on one side. “When I disagreed with the king. Your hair is like a raven’s nest.”
Cosimo gasped, pulling back from the boy. “How dare you! Do you know who I am? How dare you insult my majesty!”
The boy laughed as Cosimo put a hand to his chest, pulling a face. Cosimo couldn’t maintain the expression for long before a grin split his face too. “You don’t look any better yourself you know,” Cosimo told him, putting a hand in his hair and ruffling it. The boy slapped Cosimo’s hand away as a knock sounded at the door.
Cosimo got to his feet with a grin and walked to the door with his usual feline grace. Henrik and Nikolas stood outside with a giant jug in each of their hands with a courtier standing behind Nikolas.
Henrik looked at Cosimo, noting the smile and glanced over his shoulder. “These are quite heavy, Cosimo,” Henrik said, “but if you’d prefer, we won’t come in.”
Cosimo shook his head and stepped back, looking at the boy who nodded, wrapping his arms around himself. “Please, come in. Thank you for the water.”
Nikolas smiled his dazzling, kingly smile as he walked in. He nodded at the boy and continued towards the bathing room. The boy watched the three of them wearily, his eyes darting between Cosimo and each of the humans before he turned back to the fire, angling his body so he kept the room in his peripheral.
He reminded Cosimo of a caged animal Master Ludwig told him about. How humans would cage them for entertainment, for blood sports and hunting other animals. How the animals would sometimes, when mistreated, turn wilder than any wild animal, feral, and skittish.
“It’s okay,” Cosimo said in elvish.
The boy tilted his head but didn’t take his eyes from the flames. “I know. I just need a little time.”
Which was understandable. Cosimo needed time too when he first met the humans. And not all of them were as good as Nikolas and Henrik, but… then again, Cosimo would rather he experienced the cruelty of humans than the boy who was probably still weak from his fever. And the fact that he wasn’t a full elf like Cosimo or anyone he grew up with.
Cosimo remembered the first time he saw the boy in the court. He was small, so much smaller than he was now. Which was saying something, considering the boy is short amongst elves. But knowing he is potentially half-human now makes sense. When Cosimo was grown he would be taller than Henrik and Nikolas now.
But that wasn’t what made Cosimo curious about the boy, it was the colour of his eyes. The strange bright hue of sunlight shining through honey. They were so unusual, so unlike the normal, natural colours of elven eyes that Cosimo thought made the boy special. Rare. Unique.
The same eyes that now glared at the fire as Henrik and the King stepped out of the bathing chamber. Cosimo turned his attention back to them, smiling his thanks.
“If that’s everything for now boys,” Nikolas began, “I will have dinner brought to your room when it is ready.”
Cosimo bowed his head. “We cannot thank you enough, you—” red tinged his cheeks as he coughed and said, “Nikolas.”
Henrik caught Cosimo’s eye, raising a brow at the boy’s back in question. Cosimo nodded and tried to smile reassuringly. The knight didn’t trust the boy, something Cosimo would have to no doubt mend between them. But Cosimo didn’t understand why… why Henrik, the king’s trusted soldier and advisor, who risked his reputation to save Cosimo— would not trust the boy?
It was too big a thought when exhaustion crept like phantom shivers around each of Cosimo’s limbs. He would deal with the rest of their problems tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted a bath and some warm clothes.
Nikolas kept his spring green eyes fixed on the silent boy as well, walking over without malice or doubt to the fire beside the boy and the fox. He smiled his kingly smile at the boy when the honey coloured eyes turned to him.
“I’m sorry, I can’t resist,” he said, leaning down to extend his hand to the fox at the boy’s feet. She nudged her nose towards his outstretched fingers and Nikolas smiled warmly as he ran his fingers through strangely soft orange fur for a fox. “She is a delight,” he told the boy rising, like it was only something the two of them were in on, a shared joke. “And she chose you as a companion, which says a lot.”
The boy swallowed but remained silent. Nikolas smiled and said, “good night to you both,” before turning towards the door. “And good night to you too, your hi—” his lips turned up into a smirk as he caught himself, “Cosimo.”
Henrik rolled his eyes for Cosimo’s benefit who laughed. “He thinks he’s funny,” Henrik grumbled.
“I know I’m funny,” Nikolas shot back.
“People only laugh at your jokes because you’re king.”
“Not true! People laugh at—”
“You? Attempting to be humorous?” Henrik cut in, winking at Cosimo as he pulled the door closed behind him, blocking out the king’s response.
Once the door clicked shut it felt like oxygen returned to the room. Cosimo loosed a breath he didn’t know he was holding before turning his body back to the boy. The boy, to his surprise, was staring at the door where the two humans left. He looked at Cosimo over his shoulder and offered a smile.
“You can have a bath first, Cosimo,” he told him. Cosimo didn’t have the energy to argue with him. He nodded once and turned on his heel walking back to the bathing chamber. He closed the door behind him and settled heavily against it, the weight of the last couple of days… hours? He didn’t know, descending on him like the weight of a great wolf.
But he could relax in the bath, so he forced himself off the door and walked towards the mirror. Cosimo winced at his reflection, barely recognising his face as he stared into his pale, dull eyes that were usually so bright now muted and dim. His skin was stripped of colour, dark bags seemed to bruise his eyes making the colour more startling, unnerving. As he studied the bags under his left eye, the black and blues mixing with reds and purples he scoffed. Oh. Yeah, Henrik punched him before he pinned Cosimo to the ground. Cosimo reached a hand up and tentatively prodded at the bruise with his fingers, wincing as sharp bursts of pain drew soft gasps from his lips before pulling away.
He could see the bandages in the mirror too from where the iron had rubbed his wrists and burned them, not to mention the faded pink lines on his cheek after Rochus slammed his head into the iron bars of his cell for not co-operating.
Gods, Cosimo looked… terrible. No wonder the boy was so worried about him, so distrusting of the humans. Cosimo swallowed hard as his eyes wandered up to his hair. It really did look awful. He slowly started to pull out the twigs and leaves and brush his fingers through his chocolate curls, trying to loose the bigger pieces of mud and dirt from it. After a couple of minutes, half-satisfied and half drained, Cosimo turned to the bath and poured two of the jugs of steaming water into it.
He stripped down his clothes and climbed in, groaning as he settled into the warmth. The water immediately became tainted, turning brown and dirty as the dirt lifted from Cosimo’s flesh but he didn’t care as he lay back against the edge and let himself close his eyes and breath a sigh of relief in the warm embrace of the water.
He did it.
He saved them.
He saved the boy from execution; he survived his own possible and very-nearly-happened execution, and he got the two of them to safety.
He saved them.
They would be okay. They would survive here in the land of the humans, with Nikolas and Henrik looking after them. Of course, Cosimo would have to look after and help the boy adjust but once he did then Cosimo would be able to live more freely. He didn’t think of his court, of his responsibilities, his duties. He never wanted to be a king. He wanted to be an adventurer, like the elves in Nestor’s stories. He wanted to be brave, valiant and bold. He didn’t want to settle squabbles and disputes between high lords and nobles. It would bore him to tears, and maybe…
Just maybe, with his eyes closed and his sore muscles slowly unwinding in the water, he could be honest with himself and be glad that he overheard the plans of the boy’s execution, because that meant he had an excuse to leave all the weight of his birthright responsibilities behind.
Cosimo opened his eyes and stared at the intricately carved ceiling and imagined he was in one of those stories now. Finally able to catch his breath after a successful mission. He reached for the bar of soap and winced as a pain in his ribs flared sharply and he cursed.
He must’ve really taken a beating from the soldiers… but his body refused to let him feel it until now, or maybe it was seeing his wounds in person and how tired he looked. He grunted as he grabbed the soap and set about washing himself and his hair, remaining in the water until he seeped all the warmth from it before finally, begrudgingly, getting out. He wrapped himself in a towel and unplugged the drain before stepping out.
The boy was sitting in the armchair by the fire, and Cosimo didn’t want to do anything that would disturb him…
Which was a lie, an unhelpful voice supplied, you don’t want to do anything that would disturb you.
Cosimo walked to the bedroom instead and opened the doors revealing clothes for him to wear. He found a soft pair of trousers and an even softer shirt that felt luxurious under his palms in one of the drawers, along with underwear and some other fabric that looked small like mittens and feet mittens mothers often put on their children’s hands and feet in winter.
Cosimo blinked at them. He tentatively took them out of the drawer as well, and when he dressed once again, he felt warmth flood his body. He looked at the feet mittens and slid one over his foot. It felt… wrong, initially, but then more heat flooded him, and he smiled, wiggling his toes within the fabric confines. He scoffed and shook his head lightly as he put the other on.
His gaze fixed longingly on the bed but before he could sleep, he went out to check on the boy. The fox stared at him from the other armchair by the fire, her beady black eyes blinked lazily at him. Cosimo glanced at the bathing room, to see the door closed. He stepped closer and heard the sloshing of water within.
Deciding against calling out to him, Cosimo turned to the fox and bowed his head before retreating back into the room and closing the door. Sleep claimed him the moment he was under the covers and settled his head against the pillows, a contented sigh leaving his lips.
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