The struggle to behave

Nathan continued the massage. "How can you put up with Vardimann if he's so...?"

Whitlow closed his eyes. "He isn't like that all the time. His behavior today was pretty unusual for him. Normally, he's active with a great sense of humor, but he knows when to be serious. I guess meeting so many new people today threw him off-kilter or something."

"I guess." Nathan moved the massage to the head, making small circles on the scalp with his fingers.

"Vardi gets along with people well. He's friendly with the patients, even difficult ones. He's good with the children too. He can make them quiet and well-behaved so that they don't wriggle when they need to be stitched up. You know I'm not good with kids, so it really helps. Vardi would make a good doctor."

Nathan's eye twitched. "You're talking about him quite a lot."

Whitlow didn't notice. "Well, we've been travelling together for a while. And there wasn't much else interesting that happened."

The scalp massage ended. "Do you plan to keep him on as your assistant?"

"Yeah. I agreed to put him up for the winter. I'll probably ask him to stay longer, since he's so useful." Whitlow cocked his head. "But then I'd have to give him a proper wage."

Nathan hung his arms over the doctor's shoulders, splashing the water with his fingers moodily. "I don't like it."

"What don't you like?"

"I've only known you for nine months, spread over four years. Six months in the first year and then one month a year for three more years. If he stays with you, he would soon be spending more time with you than I have."

"Huh. You're right. But it's not a race."

Whitlow didn't seem to get it. Nathan nipped his ear. "You should stay here for the winter. Or I'll get jealous of him."

"Jealous?" Whitlow turned. "But why?" Nathan kissed him in response.

Whitlow sighed, lifting the arms off his shoulders. "Look, when we started this we both agreed that it wasn't going to be serious."

"That's right. Neither of us are suited to a serious relationship." One set of dark eyes gazed unflinchingly into the other's. "But I still get possessive." His hand touched Whitlow's face. "Especially when you're right in front of me."

"Well, don't be possessive! I don't want that." Whitlow got out of the bathtub and reached for the towel. His relaxation time was ruined now. Nathan was quiet as he dried himself off and got dressed.

The silence was making Whitlow nervous. Nathan, sitting on that chair in the firelight, reminded the doctor of a large, patient dog. He felt he had to say something. "Nathan, I like being friends with you. But that's all we are, friends." He looked into his eyes. "I cannot see us being compatible as lovers."

"That's not what I'm asking for." His voice was quiet. "I'm sorry for agitating you. I won't talk about it again."

Whitlow paused in tying his shoes, realizing something. "Ah. I overreacted, didn't I? Sorry."

Nathan shrugged. "It's fine. I was overstepping."

"Not by that much."

After a short period of silence, Whitlow walked over to the door. "So, um...I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Sure." Nathan kissed his cheek before opening the door. Whitlow chuckled awkwardly before hurrying away.

Whitlow felt slightly depressed on the way back to his room. He muttered, "can't help reacting like that. Don't want any more love." The only illumination came from the torches, which covered the grey stone walls with a dull orange glow. Moths occasionally found their way through the windows and fluttered around the flames.

Just outside his door, Whitlow bumped into someone short and solid. "Sorry." He saw a familiar face. "Vardi?"

"Oh hey, Whitlow." Vardimann had a towel draped over his head like a nun's wimple. "I thought you were already asleep."

"I went to the loo." Whitlow eyed the clothes in Vardimann's hand, still dripping on the floor. "You know, your laundry is supposed to be done during the day. So that the sun can dry it."

"I wasn't doing the laundry, I went swimming. I figured I may as well get my clothes clean at the same time." Vardimann took the towel off his head and wrapped the clothes in it, ceasing their dripping. "Should have done that earlier." He looked rather rueful. "I didn't think it through."

"You really didn't." Whitlow sighed and entered his room.

Vardimann was left frowning. The torches didn't give him too much light. For a moment there, he thought he had seen moisture beading on the back of Whitlow's neck. He shook the thought away and went to bed.

Early next morning, his clothes still hadn't dried so Vardimann hung them up by the window. The windows here were rather wide, so hopefully the sun would dry them.

He glanced into the room next door. The morning light peered around the shutters, giving barely enough illumination to see the shapes. Whitlow lay burrowed under the blankets with only his head sticking out. The fire had burned down to grey ashes. Vardimann knew that Whitlow hated waking up in the cold, but hated being woken prematurely even more. He mulled over it only briefly before tiptoeing inside.

Vardimann quietly stirred the ashes to reveal the hot coals, then gently placed a log. By the time the doctor woke, the room should be a lot warmer.

He knelt by the bed and stared at Whitlow's face. His long black hair lay tousled all over the pillow and on his face. Whitlow was going to have a spectacular bedhead when he got up. Vardimann wondered how he could breathe through all that, and removed some hair from around his nose.

Whitlow was completely asleep, dead to the world. Vardimann suddenly had the urge to create some mischief. He pulled more hair off the face, gently detangling them and spreading them over the pillow. The thought of what Whitlow would look like, half-groomed and with half a bedhead nearly had him laughing.

Outside, the light was getting brighter and the birds were beginning their morning routine. Whitlow continued to sleep, oblivious. Vardimann repeatedly combed his hair with his fingers, starting to feel a bit strange. He opened his mouth, then stopped himself. He first tiptoed out of the room and closed the door before letting himself speak.

"What the hell am I doing?" Vardimann rubbed his face. "I told him just yesterday that I was going to behave." He shook his head and went downstairs to get breakfast, hopefully without giving in to the urge to cause trouble.

A few hours later, Whitlow sat up groggily. He hadn't slept well last night. On one side of his head, his hair fell naturally over his shoulder. But the other side was such a birds nest that it reached for the sky. If Vardimann had been here to see it, he probably would have burst out laughing.

Whitlow yawned, stretched, and got out of bed to get dressed. Something seemed a bit off when he pulled his shirt over his head, but he didn't think much of it. There was no mirror, so he didn't know what he looked like. He got a hairbrush and started on his hair. The left side of his head was easily done. The other side was a tangled mess. It took Whitlow a full ten minutes and two sore arms before he finally sorted it out.

Vardimann was gambling with the men-at-arms when Whitlow came in and rebuked "Vardi!"

Vardimann looked up guiltily. He still felt bad about messing with his hair.

"Gambling? Drinking contests and now gambling?" Whitlow grabbed the dice.

"Oh that!" Vardimann leaned back. "I'm short on money, so I'm getting some more."

"...really..." Whitlow had thought he was stirring up trouble again.

It was like Vardimann could read his mind. "I swear I'm not trying to cause trouble! I'm playing fairly."

Across the table, Richard beckoned. "Why don't you join us? Tell us about these drinking contests."

Vardimann groaned. "Oh no, please don't. He'll try to find out what my real limit is. He'll make me drink raw wine again."

Whitlow rolled his eyes and sat down, returning the dice. It looked like the two of them had gotten closer, once the wine helped Richard forget the night before. Vardimann rolled the dice again. "A snake with three eyes! Beat that!"

Richard snorted. "Rolling a one and a two is nothing impressive." He reached for the dice.

Vardimann chuckled. "If you want to show me impressive, then roll me a three and a four."

Whitlow didn't join in, content to watch. It was interesting to see how genuinely happy Vardi was to interact with someone whom he had angered to the point of nearly cutting someone's head off.