Satyr Boyfriend: Hael (complete)

Nonbinary Reader (amab) x Male Monster (cis)

When you were younger, you were stolen from your bed while you slept. It wasn’t a rare occurrence. What was odd was what happened a few days later, when you and a bunch of other children were imprisoned on a boat. Since you were one of the eldest, you were caring for the younger ones, telling them stories, hoping they would fall asleep when you heard shouting and scuffling, and people falling into the water. You and the older kids took action, hiding the younger ones in the shadows of the hold to keep them safe. It wouldn’t be surprising to be taken from one frying pan into a boiling cauldron. You didn’t have much except your own will to survive, but you were ready for a fight.

“Don’t worry,” someone said gently. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to get you home.” It was so strange to hear a kind voice. Being on this ship for so long, being treated like less than an animal, you weren’t sure how to act.

The man who approached you set his weapons aside at the door and held his hands out to you. He had scars, and his hair was shorn so you could see the base of the horns on his head. Looking closer, you saw he was a satyr, but it was his soft, grey-green eyes that you focused on. You weren’t sure what to do, and you started crying as you took his hands. With his help, you and the others were able to escape and return home. But he remained on your mind.

Years later, your experiences lead to you taking up with a monastery that runs an orphanage. Sometimes you take in the sick and wounded that come to your door as well. You start a garden which helps bring in food and money. You keep what you need, sell the rest, and teach the children gardening along the way. You were happy and content here.

One night you hear a knock at the door. You make sure the children are asleep before you go downstairs, where two of the other monks are holding up a man who collapsed as soon as he came through the door. They drag him to the library and put him before the fire, while you fetch water for him. But when you return and get a good look at the man, it takes your breath away. It’s been years now, but you recognize him immediately. His hair has grown long and greasy, but when he slowly opens his eyes you see the beautiful muted green that drew you in before.

“Here, drink,” you offer quickly.

He touches your hand as you hold the cup, keeping it there as he drinks. “Forgive me,” he pants when he’s had fill. “I must have given you fright.”

“We’re prepared for visits like this,” the head monk replies. “Not to worry. You’re in good hands now.”

The satyr looks at you and smiles weakly. “I just need rest for the night. You don’t need to worry over me.”

You want to tell him how he saved your life years ago, how he has remained in your thoughts ever since. Instead, what comes out of your mouth is, “Let me make you a bed.”

He nods weakly. “Thank you.”

You stop before leaving and look back at him. “Are you hungry, sir? Perhaps something to eat would help you.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You are nothing of the sort, sir,” you insist. “That’s what we are here for, to serve the weak and the helpless.”

The satyr smiles and closes his eyes. “For now I just want rest. I can eat in the morning with the rest of you.”

You steal one last look at him before you leave to prepare one of the spare beds. Your hands are shaking from the excitement. You could never forget his face. You make the bed and return to fetch him, finding him half-asleep again. You touch his shoulder, shaking him gently, and his body feels cold to the touch. You shake a little harder and he stirs. His eyes flutter, then shoot open and his hand seizes your wrist like a startled viper. He stares at you, eyes wide, breath shuddering, then relaxes, moving your hand away before he releases it.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he mutters.

“It's quite alright.” You swallow as he rises. He stands a little shorter than you, which is surprising. You remember him being so mightily tall. “Your bed is ready, sir.”

“Thank you.” He looks at you, his face disheveled and his eyelids heavy. He looks so painfully exhausted and weak. “Call me Hael, please.”

You never knew his name, and knowing it makes you smile. “Yes, Hael. This way.”

You barely sleep after that, knowing he is there makes your skin crawl with excitement. You grin in the morning as you help to prepare breakfast. You get the children to wash their hands, singing rather than prattling through the regular prayers. At the breakfast table, you get the children settled before you go to check on your guest. Hael is sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his head between his hands.

“Good morning.” You bite back all the excitement within you. “We have plenty of food if you’d like to come and join us.”

Hael sighs heavily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was an orphanage.”

“It’s alright. Really. We’re here to help everyone in need.” You approach him and offer your hand. “Come and join us. I insist.”

He looks over your hand and brushes it aside, standing on his own. He begins to pull on his tunic when you notice a bloody bandage on his back. “Are you hurt?”

Hael pulls away from you, hurriedly tugging down his shirt. “Once I have a meal, I promise I will be on my way.”

You frown after him as he heads to the door. You take him into the dining hall, giving him a seat and then filling his plate with food. The children stare and whisper. Strangers are not new to them, but children love to whisper. Hael eats his food slowly, savoring each bite like he hasn’t had a warm meal in ages, and seeming uncomfortable in his seat. After his plate is empty, he sits gazing across the room, watching the children as they clean their own plates and hurry off to tend to their duties around the monastery.

You approach him to take his plate. “Would you like seconds?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “Are you sure the kids have eaten enough?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you chuckle. “That’s why I’m asking if you’ve had enough.”

Hael barely looks at you, his stare growing distant again as one of the little ones takes her chair to the sink so she can wash her dish. He smiles softly. “It looks like the kids are happy here.”

“We try to make it that way. I know what it’s like.” The chance to thank him, the opportunity to tell him he saved your life, arrives again, but you’re too nervous.

“Do you?” Hael sighs.

You nod and murmur in assent. Why can’t you just say something to him? Hael stands up, and you notice his back is bleeding through his shirt. He winces, touching the bloody patch as he bends over the table. “Come, now. Let me see to that.”

You put your arm around him and take him back to his room to redress the wound. “Just put a bandage on it,” he insists, fighting as you try to move the old bandage away so you can see what's wrong.

“Keep your hands still. It’s bleeding a lot, so it needs more than a fresh bandage.” Once you’re able to move the bandage away, he cries out in pain as crusted skin comes away with the scab. His knees buckle, and you manage to get him on the bed. “This needs to be cleaned. It looks infected. Stay here, and let me go get my kit.” You go into the hall, leaving one of the older children to keep an eye on Hael so he doesn’t try to leave.

You return with your medical kit, take off your robes and sit down by the edge of the bed. “Oh,” Hael murmurs. “I thought you were a woman.”

You glance into his eyes, then back at the wound you are carefully trying to clean. “I don’t really consider myself anything. Just a vessel to spread some kindness into this world.”

Hael sighs and closes his eyes tight. “A vessel,” he laughs. “Didn’t realize vases had such pretty faces.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “Now, now, just try to breathe. I know this hurts.” From the looks of it, it appears to be a shallow stab wound, but due to the infection it’s hard to tell. You manage to get most of the damaged skin away and clean the flesh as best you can. Then you need to apply alcohol to the wound. “Take my hand,” you tell him. “This is going to hurt.”

Hael chuckles. “Try me.”

You hold your hand out to him as you pour the undiluted alcohol onto the wound. He screams, nearly thrashing, and grabs the proffered hand tightly, whimpering as the sting goes down. You keep the clean cloth pressed to the wound, giving the alcohol time to work. “I thought I knew pain,” Hael whimpers into the pillow.

You finish by applying balm to the wound and have him sit up so you can wrap the bandage around his waist. “Stay here as long as you need. We have the room and supplies to take care of one more.”

“I shouldn’t,” he protests.

“You should. Trust me, you need to rest and allow that to heal. Plus, you won’t find better care anywhere around here, trust me. Outside this monastery they would just insist on just paring away the injured tissue.”

He chuckles again. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You won’t,” you insist. “But, if you feel you must do something, you can always participate in our chores. I would insist you stick to light ones, such as washing vegetables.”

“It’s a simple wound,” he insists. “I can pull my own weight if I must.”

“Yes, but that means you are not resting.” You give him a smile as you put your robe back on. “Take time to heal, Hael. You deserve it.”

His eyes grow distant and his jaw goes stiff. “How do you know what I deserve?”

“All living creatures deserve kindness. So if you would like, I can get you some warm water for a wash. I can even get you a razor if you’d like to shave.”

Hael rubs his jaw. “It has been a while.”

“Just stay here and relax. I’ll be back soon with everything you need.” You close the door to his room behind you and touch your face, wondering if he saw you blushing. He said you had a pretty face. Often the children called you pretty, but it’s been a long time since someone else had complimented you in such a way. When you return to Hael’s room, you have soap, a razor, and hot water for him to wash. You place the things on the table and offer him a clean towel. “I just ask you to take care of your own supplies,” you tell him. “Here, we teach the children to take care of their own belongings, so we lead as adults by doing the same.”

“You don’t need to explain to me.” Hael took the towel. “I will do my part.”

You nod. “I’ll leave you be for now. If you need anything, I’ll be out in the garden.”You have another chance to tell him everything, but instead you turn and leave, questioning why you can’t say anything to him.

You work hard in the garden that afternoon. You’re preparing for a harvest as well as planting crops for the winter months. The children are excited, planning what they will do when you take your supplies to market. All you do is set prices, but the children are the ones who make and erect the signs, deal with customers and care of the stall. They always do a wonderful job, and sometimes it even helps to find them homes. You just wish you could do it more often.

That evening at supper, Hael comes into the dining hall on his own, having washed and shaved. His hair is quite long and silvery-blonde, and it falls in tousled waves which he pushes back shyly from his face. You approach him and offer a plate. “You look shiny and new,” you say to him.

Hael’s smile is faint. “I didn’t realize how bad I had gotten. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Now, go fill your plate, we have something special from the garden prepared. I think the kids are excited to see you try it.” You go back to your seat, occasionally watching Hael as he sits and eats on his own, with a hefty helping of the fresh tomatoes the children harvested today. The youngest girl gets up and takes her plate to join Hael, and he smiles at her, unsure of her presence. She chats away happily, offering him bites from her plate which he kindly refuses. It’s quite a sweet scene as he warms up to her presence.

You go to the table after you finish eating. “Mera, did you enjoy your meal?”

She nods earnestly. “He was eating alone.”

“You did very well. Thank you for taking care of our guest. Why don’t you get washed up for storytime?”

Mera looks up at Hael. “Will you be joining us?”

“I...” He flinches. “Maybe.”

Mera takes her plate and hops off her chair, taking it with her so she can reach the washbasin. You smile and turn to Hael. “Making friends already?”

“A very sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“She is.”

“How did she come here?” Hael asks, his voice low so the other children don’t hear him.

“She was left here as a baby,” you answer. “We’re all she’s known.”

A stricken look crosses Hael’s face as he rises. “What is storytime?”

You smile. “We gather in the library and we read together. You might like it.”

Hael takes his dish and goes to wash it, then leaves the dining hall. Once you’ve finished cleaning the kitchen, you go to the library where the kids are waiting. Some are reading to themselves while others are waiting for you to read aloud. The monastery taught you how to read, so it’s a delight to teach the children. Not many get the privilege, especially in this region, so you work hard to pass along that knowledge.

As you read, you look up and see Hael watching from the doorway. You smile at him and continue reading while a sudden shyness prickles over you. Hael leaves before the story is over, but his presence still makes you feel shy. You take the kids to bed, making sure they’re tucked in and warm before heading back downstairs. Returning to the library, you pick up the book you were reading from, take off your robe and sit before the fire. You lean back, relaxing and slowly drifting.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You look up, rubbing sleep from your eyes as Hael stands in the doorway again. “Is everything alright?” you ask.

“Don’t worry,” Hael murmurs. “I just...”

You rise from your seat. “No, go ahead. I’m here to help.”

Hael looks around the library. “Do you have any maps here?”

You nod and go to a corner where you have some folded up behind the books. “Just a few. Is there something you are searching for?”

“A village,” he says quietly.

You take out the maps for him. “They’re quite old.”

“That’s fine.” He takes them from you and nods respectfully. “Thank you.” His eyes look into yours, and instantly your face grows warm. “Maybe I should just ask...”

“Are you looking for something?” you ask.

He goes over to the table, laying out one of the maps. “The village, I believe, is called Clercourt, surrounded by the Cler river and known for fishing.”

“I know what you speak of,” you murmur. “I’m afraid Clercourt was burned down ages ago.”

“I know. I just need to know where it was.”

You furrow your brow as you look at him. “It’s south of here. The old bridges have been burnt down, but some thieves and drifters have built makeshift ones to scavenge the ruins.”

“That’s fine.” Hael keeps quiet, even distant.

You approach him, wanting to thank him for saving you all those years ago. You want to tell him, you need to, but it keeps getting stuck in your chest, and it’s frustrating because you don’t know why.

“How long would it take to get there?” Hael asks.

“A day or two. But you aren’t in any shape to travel right now.”

Hael scowls and rubs at something hanging around his neck. “It’s taken too long as it is,” he growls under his breath.

“What has? Maybe I can help.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Someone I owe a favor to lived there. I made a promise before they died.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” you whisper.

Hael’s eyes become distant again as he folds up the map. “Nothing to worry over. Not for you.” He hands the map back.

You nod. “I understand. But if there’s anything I can help you with, please, let me know.”

Hael tilts his chin up. “You said yourself that you teach the kids by giving them their own responsibilities. So why worry over mine?”

“Because...” you begin breathlessly, begging that whatever power is holding your mouth shut will let you speak. “Because I...” You fidget with the map.

Hael’s stare into a sharp glare. “Because?”

Your breath shudders and you have to set the map aside, afraid you might tear it. Looking away from him, you feel relief. “Because I owe you my life.”

Hael’s glare softens. “For what?”

“It was a long time ago. I was young, and I had been kidnapped. I’m not sure exactly who it was, I just know they planned to sell me and the other children they had taken. You saved us.” You start to shake. “I would recognize you anywhere.”

Hael’s eyes grow large, and he lets out a long sigh that hitches at the end. “I see.” He smiles. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”

“But I do, I’ve been dying to! It’s just-” You have to laugh. “I haven’t been sure how to say my gratitude correctly.”

“Seeing what you do here is enough.” Hael still sounds breathless. “You needn’t say more.”

“But I want to help you.” Your voice trembles. “Please.”

Hael looks at you with those beautiful eyes, making your heart skip and your smile grow. “Take me to Clercourt. That’s all I ask.”

You break into a grin. “I can do that. But only once your wound has closed. That is all I ask you to wait for.”

Hael grimaces, but nods his head. “Fine. I will wait until then, and only then. I cannot wait on this much longer.”

“I promise.” You hold your hand out to him. He takes it and squeezes.