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Untitled Cadfael

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Hugh enjoyed a rare afternoon of leisure with Cadfael. Oh, Cadfael had to get up to tend to the medicine he had brewing on the brazier, but Hugh himself had no where to go and nothing to do. There was no murder that had them hunting their different paths for the guilty party, they could simply sit and talk over cups of Cadfael's wine. The cold and snow kept everyone close to their own hearths, so there was no danger of being interrupted for anything less than a true emergency.

Better than the rare chance to simply sit and swap soldier's stories, was the chance to look his fill. It was only the two of them in the small hut, of course he'd keep his eyes on his friend. The blonde fringe around the tonsure that was seamlessly changing to white, the energy and personality that made the man so attractive. Oh, Cadfael was not a young man anymore, and the soldier's lean frame had filled out, made stockier with time. But Hugh was bewitched. The man's keen mind had intrigued Hugh from the beginning. That Cadfael was as cunning as he was clever, and knew how and when to use that cunning had only drawn Hugh closer to him. Never as close as he wanted, in the most hidden recesses of his mind, but as close as possible considering Cadfael's vows.