#bartywayman

“I see.. that’s quite understandable. A bit hard to study at a desk all day when there’s a plague running the streets.”

Gregory gave a sigh and a sympathetic nod. Though at the subject change, it seemed it was his turn to sweat. That was quite the question wasn’t it. How much of the truth could he twist? What tale could he unravel without completely lying to the man? Without, getting entangled and caught in said lie..

“I worked in Scottland with a woman by the name of Donna. She did herbal work and I created jars and books. Which I still do by the way. We had a shared business together, a wonderful bussines. Until her unfortunate passing when a boulder rolled down a hill by her home and crushed her while she slept. It was, rather tragic..”

He paused, and then sighed, as if taking a moment to collect himself. Before he continued with a deep breath.

A smile crept its way across his lips at how the doctor seemed to stand straighter, green eyes flicking up to that hat before they settled on the other’s shoulders. He wondered briefly if it was an attempt at bravery, which was both amusing and almost, admirable.

“People die, such is the way of this world. Some, sooner then others. Much sooner..”

“Very well, if you are certain.”

A respectful nod was given, but a mental note was made. A reminder to himself to keep an eye on the doctor, to try and prevent him from getting overwhelmed again. Even more so, when night came and his home was bound to get visitors.

He quietly watched as the other lowered, and then brought up again the bucket of water. Waiting. Stepping closer. For when Barty turned around, he reached out. Slowly, so as not to spook him. But still, attempted to run his thumb across the man’s cheek, as if to wipe away a few more tears.

“I admire your strength, and your bravery.”

Gregory was quick to the doctor’s side when he fell back into the flowers, thinking that he had fainted once again. But he let out a sigh of relief when Barty spoke, giving a soft chuckle before he simply laid down beside the doctor. Gazing up at the trees, at a few small winged fae, of all colors, that peaked out from the leaves. Curious, cautious and more visible then before.

“To think it is not even nightfall yet. But I don’t think we will see him again.. he never visits twice in the same day. Everything else in this forest, isn’t as dangerous either..”

He gave a sigh as he sat up, gazing at the well and the bucket. Looking around at the forest, and thinking about the garden. About what the fae had said before he left. The goat and his odd riddles.

“That is a well said proverb. I too agree, one never stops learning. Neither man, nor beast or fae.”

The fae said with a nod as he considered Barty’s words, dark sockets that gaze at the doctor. Looking him over, before they rested again on Gregory, who refused to meet the fae’s gaze. Instead, Gregory looked at Barty as his arm was squeezed, a small look of understanding given. Then, he signed in soft relief when the fae’s offer was rejected. The fae, who simply nodded as he took the bucket, and poured out what remained onto the flowers that were nestled by the well.

“Pen and ink. Sunlight and flowers. Your garden. Quite a peculiar case you lads have, but it will do just nicely. Just nicely indeed..”

Another nod given, as the fae seemed to ramble on about something while he set the bucket back on the edge of the well. He then clasped his hands together and gave a partial bow.

There was a long stretch of silence after the goat fae watched Barty tip his hat, and so politely greet him. Silence, meeting that question for a moment as he considered the man’s soul. His head, slowly turning, to gaze at Gregory.

“No, I was just talking a stroll. I heard voices, thought I might see why a doctor was all the way out here.”

The fae spoke, his voice a gentle rumble as his gaze settled onto Barty once more. Slowly he walked closer, his eye sockets never leaving the doctor until he reached the well. Only then did he dip his head down to gaze into it. All the while, Gregory stood even closer to Barty. Almost protectively. Fighting against the urge to just scoop up the man, and make a run for it.

“You can have some when we’re done. We were here first.”

Gregory said, trying to stand his ground despite how his voice ever so lightly shook. Finding his voice silenced when the fae looked up at him, looked to Barty and then looked back to him. Silently challenging the two.

There was a soft, lighthearted chuckle when he saw Barty looking around. It was also a nice change to see that someone actually cared about being polite, heartwarming even.

“You could say hello, and tell them your intentions. I wouldn’t give your name though, who knows what they would do with that information.”

He shook his head, but with amusement. The fae could be cheeky, as well as nosey, and he decided to save the poor doctor the trouble of it all. He just hoped they wouldn’t give the man to much trouble for the times he didn’t happen to be around.

“I don’t think she needs help, but.. banshees mourn for those who have just passed on, or for those who have no one to mourn for them. My suspicions are that.. someone must have died here, and that is why she lingers.”

He whispered back in a tone just as soft, as he looked at the ground around the well. There was no sign of any grave, just flowers and grass. But he supposed it must have happened long ago. He then gave a nod of agreement as Barty grabbed the bucket, moving his hands to lift and push aside the wooden plank that covered the top.

“I agree, best not to linger in a place like this.”

A genuine smile crossed his lips, at the idea of soon being an official gardener. The way the doctor beamed at him, it only made him want to succeed even more. Even if it made no sense. Even if, it strayed from the point of things. For the moment, he had the strength to quiet that other side of him. He could worry about it all later. The other’s cheerfulness was far to infectious, maybe it was a change he needed.

But, those were thoughts for later. Not wanting to get himself worked up, and instead focused on the present. Focused, on making sure he shut the little gate behind them before he lead them both down the path.

“Not really keep out, it is more of.. a separation. My home, away from theirs. I am just a guest in this forest, and the bells ring to let them know I am coming.”

He explained, indirectly talking about the Fae as he seemed to keep watch. Looking out for something, but, what that something was, didn’t seem quite clear. Either way, he seemed relieved when he spotted a stone well under the shade of some trees. The top of the well covered by a slab of wood, with a simple bucket and rope resting on top.