Chapter Text
Despite the snow falling around him, Eli feels warm. It’s the first clue that makes him realize he’s dreaming.
He’s in a garden, most likely at night. It might be the Manor’s gardens, but it’s hard to tell in the snow and the low light. Sounds of music and laughter reach his ears, muffled by distance and by the falling snow. Everything is peaceful and still.
Eli smiles, enjoying the quiet atmosphere. It’s not often his dreams are so pleasant.
A large shadow falls over him, demanding Eli’s attention, and Eli’s smile gets wider, heart skipping a beat. This really is turning out to be a good dream, it seems. The King in Yellow steps forward out of the shadow, materializing just enough for Eli’s benefit. He bows just so in greeting. Eli mirrors the gesture.
“Beloved,” Hastur says almost gently, and doesn’t that make Eli’s heart skip another beat. “You have arrived before the preparations have been completed.”
Eli has no idea what he’s referring to—often doesn’t know what’s being referred to yet in his dreams—so he just reaches into the shadows to grasp at Hastur’s hand. “I wanted to see you,” he says simply. It’s usually safe in these situations to stick to the truth.
Hastur has no face a human could comprehend, and almost never chooses to wear one. But Eli gets the sense that if he could smile he would be, can almost feel the pleasure rolling off of Hastur in waves. Hastur turns his hand to grasp Eli's instead, and leans down to offer something that feels suspiciously like a kiss to Eli's knuckles. Heat creeps into Eli's cheeks.
Hastur's voice is gentle when he speaks. "Mortal eyes are not meant to see that which a god has yet to lay, no matter the depths of their desire. Though you are always welcome at my side, I must keep you from this night before it comes to fruition.”
Eli takes a breath, working hard to keep his expression neutral. That’s a clear dismissal then. “I understand, my lord.” He hopes the disappointment isn’t as obvious in his voice as he suspects it is.
Something soft touches his ankle, startling him. Eli looks down to see a tentacle has materialized in the shadows. It travels up the side of his leg, gentle and comforting like a caress, settling to grasp at his waist. A second tentacle comes up to curl around his wrist, the one not holding Hastur’s hand. He feels the back of Hastur’s free hand stroke his cheek.
“Do not dismay, beloved,” Hastur murmurs. “Patience will lend this moment an even sweeter hue when it comes to pass, I offer that as a promise. It is also…disappointing to part from you before I am ready for it. I am unsure if I am ever ready for that parting.”
The blush makes its way back to Eli's face in full force. “I hope you’re never ready. I’d be—I’d be sad if you became tired of me so soon,” Eli murmurs, haltingly. It feels daring, more daring than he’d be when awake. But if can’t be a little selfish, a little reckless in his dreams, when can he?
It’s certainly not something he’d allow himself to be when awake.
Eli feels the tentacles squeeze around him like an embrace. “I do not think I could possibly commit such a crime, not against you, my Seer. It is not in my nature to so carelessly toss aside those things which I have taken to, however new our bond may be.” Hastur leans down, and there’s a sudden pressure on Eli’s forehead, unexpected and soft like a stolen kiss. “Return to your rest, beloved. We will meet again soon in the waking world.”
The tentacles pull back, and Hastur retreats into the shadows. Eli offers another half-hearted bow as the shadows fade into something softer. He takes another glance around at the garden, the snow, the sounds, trying to commit the details to memory. He doesn’t know if this is a normal dream, a vision, or just his subconscious fulfilling some of his secret desires, but he knows he wants to hold on to it no matter what.
He wakes up in his bed, warm and alone.
It’s not the first time Eli has dreamt of Hastur, far from it. Even before he managed to confess his feelings, even before they’d spent much time together, Eli had been dreaming of Hastur. It’s hard to recall, but he thinks it may have started even back home, before he arrived at the manor—there have always been dreams filled with presences in the shadows. Much like with this dream, he’s never sure if it’s the will of fate or just his own fascination, his own longing for what has always felt just out of reach.
But it’s not out of reach now, he reminds himself with a small smile. Eli had confessed his interest, and Hastur had accepted those feelings. Hastur calls him “beloved,” not only in his dreams, but over tea, or in matches. Though this thing between them is still new—so new Eli doesn’t properly have the words for it, not yet—Hastur’s presence is Eli’s to have, at least some of the time.
No wonder he’s having such good dreams.
He stretches, getting out of bed slowly. It’s still early, the winter sunlight weak where it peeks through his curtains—he has time to be leisurely this morning. He notices Brooke open her eye groggily. She grumbles a bit through their bond, but relaxes when Eli strokes a hand over the feathers on her back.
She peers up at him for a moment, before making a low sound. Eli knows she’s asking a question.
“Just in a good mood this morning,” he tells her gently. “I had a good dream.”
There’s a feeling of warmth that washes over him through their bond. Brooke has been with him long enough to know how rare good dreams can be for Eli. She titters a little, rubbing her head insistently into Eli’s hand for more pets. Eli laughs and lets her.
When Brooke is satisfied, it’s quick work to wash up and dress for the day. It’s still early when he’s done—the first matches of the day are still a few hours off—but late enough that breakfast will likely be on the table, so he ventures out. He gets a feeling that friends will be waiting for him.
When he gets to the dining room and finds a groggy Norton and a very alert Naib alone at the big table, Eli can’t help but grin. Naib offers him a small smile back, and Norton manages a tired groan.
“Good morning you two,” Eli says as he sits down. Naib nods, while Norton gives him a withering look. Brooke hops off his shoulder to the table, offering Norton and Naib something almost resembling a curtsy before picking her way over to any breakfast meats. Naib moves a tray of kippers closer to her.
“Why are all the people I know mornin’ people,” Norton says sourly. He jerks a thumb toward Naib. “This one drags me up at god-fuck-this-o’clock, and you come in here smilin’ like you know it’s gonna be a great day or whatever before you’ve even gotten any tea. Who allowed this, which god looked down at me and said I had to suffer shit like this? I know you know which, Eli.”
“He mentioned he wanted to see more daylight,” Naib says mildly. “I woke him up to see the sunrise. He’s been going on like this ever since.”
Eli laughs. “It has been a hard day for you already Norton, I see.”
Norton lays his head down on the table, scowling. “Naib wants me dead, Eli. He wants me to fall asleep in our damn match and then he’ll take all the containin’ time. It’s all part of his sinister plot, I just know it.”
“They call me a Mercenary for a reason,” Naib says, stunningly dry. “Quit whining you big oaf, it wasn’t that early.”
Norton turns a frankly pathetic look towards Eli. “See? Do you see what I have to deal with? He doesn’t respect me, not even a little bit.”
Eli just smiles again, grabbing a slice of toast to start buttering it. “But he does love you,” he says. The words are pointed, but gentle.
They have the intended effect. Norton’s face immediately floods with color, while Naib looks pointedly away from both Norton and Eli. Eli’s smile turns just a little sharper.
Naib and Norton’s relationship is hard for Eli to parse sometimes. When Norton arrived at the manor, it had seemed like he took an immediate dislike to Naib, though no one could figure out why. Even more baffling at the time, Naib had seemed to dislike Norton just as much. The usually stoic, often kind Mercenary that Eli was, at that point, just beginning to know had been drawn into surprisingly explosive arguments with Norton. They were both moodier around each other, quicker to snap and bite than around anyone else. No one could figure out why at first, what it was about these two that got so under the other’s skin.
It was almost funny when the root of the problem turned out to be attraction.
It had taken a long time for them to get to be friends, working around that roadblock, and even longer to be lovers. Eli’s proud of them for figuring things out, and for doing so without actually killing one another. He feels Brooke titter through their bond, remembering several sleepless nights where he was made to play mediator between them as they figured things out.
He’s earned the right to tease them, just a little bit.
“So,” Norton says, pointedly changing the subject rather than dignifying Eli’s observation with a response. “The holidays are coming up.”
Eli raises an eyebrow but stays quiet, eating his toast. Naib looks up from his own meal with a frown. “So they are,” Naib says, almost awkwardly. “Why’s that important?”
Norton scowls at him. “C’mon, we need somethin’ new to talk about. Clark’s smile is too knowin’, I need to save some face—work with me here Subedar. So. Holidays. Let’s talk.”
“Are you two doing anything together to celebrate?” Eli asks, turning another knowing smile Norton’s way. Norton glances at Naib again, who looks back at him and shrugs.
“Got plans to eat a lot,” Naib says after a beat. “Drink some. There’s that party Bourbon and the Queen are throwing. Probably will go to that.”
Norton nods. “Yeah, I didn’t get much farther than gettin’ drunk, I’ll be honest with ya. Maybe getting drunk at the Christmas party.”
Eli could almost laugh again. “That’s not particularly romantic of you, guys. It’s your first holiday season together, shouldn’t you try to do something, well, together ? It’s nice to spend the holidays with someone you love.”
Eli has wonderful memories of Christmases, and later Yuletides, spent with friends and family and lovers. Memories of cakes his mother used to save up for and make show stopping this time of year; of spending time by fires with Brooke later on, surrounded by the smells of pine and holly; of dancing at the village’s winter fête with Gertrude. It’s a time of year Eli has always associated with love, with warmth. Maybe it’s a little idealistic, but he wants that warm feeling for his friends.
They share another look, and Norton shrugs. “I mean, the plan is to get drunk together , Eli. Then maybe fuck—ow!” Norton whips around to glare at Naib. Naib, for his part, looks entirely focused on his eggs and sausage and not like someone who just kicked his lover under the table. “Christ almighty, he knows we fuck, Naib!”
“Eli doesn’t need the damn sordid details of our love lives over breakfast, Norton,” Naib admonishes. To his credit, he doesn’t stumble over the word love like he might have before. From the angle Eli is sitting, he can just make out where Naib’s cheeks are turning slightly pink. He turns back to Eli and clears his throat. “What about you? Do you have any plans? You have a—a lover now, yeah?”
“Yeah what are you doin’ if romance matters so much to you, Eli?” Norton chimes in, almost goading.
Eli thinks a moment, and realizes he doesn’t… actually have anything planned yet. He thinks back to his dream—the snow falling in the air and the distant sounds of music both suggest it could be a vision of what will come, what plans he and Hastur might make. But he doesn’t know for sure. That dream could still easily have been just a dream—premonitions are not plans. The future was always more malleable than people thought, and even seeing one way it could play out didn’t mean it was sure to progress as expected.
What’s more is that Eli realizes with a dawning sense of unease that he’s not even sure Hastur would want to celebrate anything. The subject has never come up, not really. Eli knows Hastur is aware of the mortal holidays—both the ones Eli celebrates and the ones he grew up with—that he’s made reference to them on multiple occasions. But the remarks have always been the observations of an outsider, not anything more personal. Certainly nothing to indicate real interest, unlike with other mortal customs and curiosities Hastur has expressed.
Eli frowns. “I don’t—I don’t actually know, yet. I’m realizing that I’m not even sure lord Hastur…is really interested in any of the winter holidays? That could be a little disappointing.” He musters up a slightly rueful smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t have teased you guys when I don’t have a leg to stand on here.”
Naib and Norton share a glance that Eli can’t quite parse. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out in plenty of time,” Naib offers after a beat. “The yellow king has always had such a soft spot for you, I’m sure he won’t just ignore what would make you happy this time of year.”
Norton nods. “Yeah, definitely. He doesn’t treat anyone else half as well as you, even before you told us about you two, uh.” Norton stumbles over the words for a moment. “Uh, gettin’ together. You’ll get somethin’ figured, somethin’ romantic for sure.”
Both of their tones border on pity—it’s almost patronizing, and it’s irritating. While Eli knows he’s younger than the two of them, he isn’t fragile, isn’t someone whose feelings need to be handled so delicately. He can take disappointment—he knows it just as well as Naib and Norton. Even if he likes this time of year, and misses the feeling of spending the winter holidays with someone you love, he can handle it if his lover doesn’t feel the same.
Brooke nips at his hand, drawing Eli from his thoughts. In their bond, he feels something soothing, and something scolding. Don’t take your anger or disappointment out on the people simply trying to do their best for you, child , he almost hears her say. Just because they don’t know how to do so perfectly doesn’t mean they don’t mean well.
Eli sighs, and pets Brooke behind her ear. She’s right, of course. “Thanks guys,” he says softly. “I suppose I really just need to talk to lord Hastur, rather than worry about it.”
“Probably for the best,” Naib says. “Communication in a relationship makes it work a whole lot better.” He says, with a sidelong glance to Norton.
“The hell is that supposed to mean, Subedar?” Norton says, rising to Naib’s bait.
“Was I talking about you, Campbell?” Naib says, a bit too innocently. Norton shoots Naib a dirty look, but leaves it there. They really have come a long way; just a few months ago that would have been the start of a lengthy argument, if not a fistfight.
Eli hides his chuckle behind his hand. “Thank you both,” he says, and means it.
The conversation shifts to what they have going on today, the chores Ms. Behamfil has assigned them, strategy for their next matches. In the lulls of their conversation, Eli’s mind wanders back to what Hastur thinks about the holidays, keeping him only half present. He’ll need to get this dealt with as soon as possible, so he can stop being so bothered by it. A trip to the hunter’s wing may be in order.