Haley Thistle
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Satyr Boyfriend: Hael (special preview)
🕑 Added 2021-02-25 22:01:00 +0000 UTCWhen you were younger, you had been stolen from your bed while you slept. It wasn’t something rare or even strange to happen, it just was happening. What was odd was what happened a few days later. You and a bunch of other children were hidden on a boat. Since you were one of the eldest, you were helping take care of some of the younger ones. You were telling them stories, hoping they would fall asleep, when you all heard something strange from above. There was shouting and scuffling, and you heard people falling into the water.
You and the other older kids took action, hiding the younger ones deeper below the deck to keep them safe. It wouldn’t be surprising at all that you would be taken from one frying pan and tossed into a boiling cauldron. You and the others stood ready to fight off whoever was coming to protect the younger kids. 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 after all this time. Being on this ship for so long, being treated like less than an animal, you weren’t sure how to act.
The man that approached you set his weapons aside at the door and held his hands out to you. He had scars on his skin, 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. It was his eyes though, this soft, grey green shade that you focused on. He smiled, offering his hands to you again. You weren’t sure what to do, you started crying as you held his hands. With his help, you and the others were able to escape to freedom and find home again. But he remained heavy on your mind.
It was years later now, and your experiences led you to taking up with a monastery that ran as an orphanage. You helped children, taught them, gave them a safe place to call home. Sometime you took in the sick and wounded that came to your door as well. You started a garden which helped bring in food and money to the orphanage. You kept what you needed, sold the rest, and it taught the children along the way. You were happy and content here.
Then, one night, there was a knock upon the door. You made sure the children remained asleep before you left. When you went downstairs, two of the other monks were holding up a man who had fallen through the door. They dragged him inside, taking him to the library where they rest him before the fire. You went and fetched water, going to help the man drink. Once you see him though, you lose your breath. It has been years now, but you recognize him immediately. His hair has grown long and hangs in a greasy around his head. His eyes open slow and you see that 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 has his 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 right now.”
The Satyr looks down at you then smiles weakly. “I can just rest for the night. You don’t need to worry over me.”
You wanted to tell him how he saved your life years ago, how he had remained heavy and beautiful on your mind ever since. Instead, what came out of your mouth was a cracky excuse. “Let me make you a bed.”
He nods weakly. “Thank you.”
You stop before leaving and look back at him. “Are you hungry, sir?” You ask. “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 come morning when you are prepared for such things.”
You steal one last look at him before you go to make up one of the spare beds. Your hands are shaking from the excitement. You could not forget his face anywhere, ever since youth he has been in your thoughts, your dreams. You made the bed and returned to fetch him, finding he was half asleep again.
You touch his shoulder, shaking him gently. His body felt cold to the touch. You shake a little harder and he stirs. His eyes flutter then flick open and his hand grabs your wrist like a scared viper. He stared at you, eyes wide, breath shuddered. He then relaxes, moving your hand away before he releases it.
“Sorry, force of habit.” He mutters.
