Chapter 37: Honeymoon hydra slaying, part 1

"We won't be long. The farm is just two days from here. You be good to Prisi and Fen, now," Filarion told his two sons, and then turned to leave. Not noticing their sour expressions.

"Why can't we come with you two, Fil. I mean, we can fight too!" Gregory protested, but it was Johnny who turned to him.

"Do you know anything about hydras?" Johnny asked, and the two boys shook their heads. "This one has eight heads, is bigger than a small hill, and probably likes virgin blood."

"Ha, very funny," Gregory told his adoptive father dryly.

Filarion chuckled at that, and hooked an arm around Johnny's elbow.

"Come now, before the last of the livestock of the farmers is eaten," the elf urged, and they were off. Gregory looked at his twin with a grin.

"You know, now that the two are gone, we have free rein of the estate," the red head smirked, but then was hit with a stick. He remembered these sticks all too well.

"The estate better be still standing when we come back, or your hides will be tanned," Filarion yelled, without turning back. Gregory rubbed his head, but didn't comment.

Filarion and Johnny made it to the stables and mounted up. The farm was up in the mountains, but trails were leading to it. The farmers had said that the hydra had come just last week.

"Isn't it strange that it didn't attack any humans?" Johnny asked, as the estate faded behind them.

"Very. A hydra shouldn't be able to differentiate humans from livestock," Filarion mused, and then urged his horse ever forward. "Perhaps it was not starving yet?"

"Perhaps," Johnny agreed. They rode until the sun hid itself, and stopped at a clearing to rest. Filarion took off a picnic blanket from his saddlebags, and placed it on the ground while Johnny busied himself with the picnic basket.

When the blanket was set, they sat down, and reached out for the cheese at the same time. Their fingers met, and Filarion chuckled.

"Never pegged you for a cheese lover," Filarion spoke, and Johnny just shook his head.

"Well, I never thought that you will go for a layman's food, either," Johnny reached out from under Filarion's fingers, and took a cube. After which, he ate it.

"This cheese is fantastic," the tank saw how Filarion blushed at that.

"You think so?" The elf took a cube himself, but brought it to Johnny's lips. "I made it myself."

Johnny blinked at that, as he opened his mouth for the cheese cube. He made sure to lick Filarion's fingers in gratitude, and enjoyed how the elf got even more crimson in the face.

"Hobby?" Johnny asked, and the elf shook his head.

"My sisters won't eat cheese, unless I was the one to make it," Filarion clarified, and then huffed. "Spoiled little princesses."

Johnny barked a laugh at that. Prisila and Feneria were indeed picky when it came to food. He had never thought that they would make their brother make them cheese.

"Feneria still hates me," Johnny said. Prisila had mostly forgiven him, in the face of Filarion's love and adoration for him, but Feneria could truly hold a grudge. Filion and he were back on speaking terms, but the old camaraderie that they had was now gone.

"Give them time? They know that what we all did was wrong, but you still betrayed me and threw me to the wolves," Filarion murmured. "Not that I didn't need a wake-up call." 

"One thing I can't understand," said Johnny, as Filarion fed him another cheese cube. He chewed and swallowed. After which, he continued speaking. "How come a gentle soul like yourself could order people dead?"

"Johnny..." Filarion began, but Johnny didn't let him get out of this conversation.

"No! You will answer me. You must have known that what you were doing was cruel. Must have known that the people who you named road blocks had families. That the bandits whom you funded were going to sow chaos and death in your name!" Johnny realized he was yelling now, and he shut his mouth. Filarion was not looking into his eyes anymore.

"That was the business. That was what my father did. What I was taught to do," Filarion murmured, but didn't make any excuses.

"So, you were blind? Were the people who suffered just numbers in your bank account?" Johnny asked, and then Filarion looked at him as if the tank had slapped him.

"You will never forgive me, will you?" Filarion was close to crying, and the sight tugged at Johnny's heart strings. He didn't want for Filarion to cry. See his mistakes, yes. But not cry.

"I can't understand how you can forgive yourself," Johnny finally said. His appetite gone, he stood up. "I will go and stretch my legs a little bit. All that horse riding got me stiff."

Johnny walked in a random direction, and he didn't stop, when he heard the first sob. He tried to forgive Filarion. He really did. The love was there, darn it all. But the hurt was also there.

Had it not been for Filarion's business, maybe Johnny's parents would have still been alive. So, he could go and introduce Filarion to them. Would they have doted on the elf?

Probably. Filarion was soft-spoken, most of the time. Elegant and beautiful. Yes, he was a man, but Johnny had known he was gay ever since he had been sixteen. His parents wouldn't have begrudged him that. They had loved him to bits.

Would they have begrudged him that he lay with the person responsible for their deaths? Probably. He guessed he would know once he died.

If he died. Filarion would sneak that half of the golden apple into his food, even if Johnny didn't want it. For his own good, the elf would say. Not a shred of guilt to be found in his green eyes.

Those green eyes were now probably full of tears. Johnny's chest tightened at the thought. He didn't like it when Filarion cried. His little leaf had the most adorable twinkles in his eyes when he laughed.

Johnny took in a large gulp of air, and turned back.