[ He's been such a good boy ever since that business with the drug concluded. Soft, sweet, angelic, obedient — the Yoze that Ivan has always known, except now, he's not appeased until he's had his nightly hug, and gotten to linger in his father's embrace.
But it's not such a bad thing, is it, for a boy to be fond of his father? Particularly when he's only a "father" in the religious sense; particularly when Ivan is his "father" in a way where Yoze has always known that he doesn't have real parents and Ivan is something closer to his savior instead. If not for Ivan, Yoze would have become a vagrant child with nowhere to go after the orphanage shuttered its doors and the sisters moved away. If not for Ivan, Yoze would, realistically, be dead.
So he's always tried. To be the best, most attentive child that he can be. He's always wanted to be good for Ivan, and even now, in the wake of that night of pleasure, that hasn't changed. He's still the same soft-hearted boy as always, cleaning and cooking and minding house while Ivan works the field and tends to the concerns of the commonfolk.
Today, he is helping Ivan with the farm — partly, anyway. The raspberry harvest came in earlier than expected, so Yoze has had to rush to prepare a variety of pies and jams. The preserves, perhaps, they'll be able to sell at market in town; the young wives of the village will love it, given that, unlike Yoze, they are often too busy minding their small children to bother with things like jam.
And so, Yoze has gone to find Ivan in the field, carrying a tiny little plate upon which he's set a slice of bread already blanketed in a thick layer of sweet raspberry paste on top. The plate, of course, he'll take back in once Ivan is done — but the good pastor can't be seen with crumbs all over his fine robes! ]
Father Ivan! Are you tired? I brought you a little snack.
[ Nothing too indulgent, of course. Ivan lives such a modest life; he eats simple meals and prefers simple preparations. But a bit of jam on bread — that's as good as a decadent cake to him. ]
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But it's not such a bad thing, is it, for a boy to be fond of his father? Particularly when he's only a "father" in the religious sense; particularly when Ivan is his "father" in a way where Yoze has always known that he doesn't have real parents and Ivan is something closer to his savior instead. If not for Ivan, Yoze would have become a vagrant child with nowhere to go after the orphanage shuttered its doors and the sisters moved away. If not for Ivan, Yoze would, realistically, be dead.
So he's always tried. To be the best, most attentive child that he can be. He's always wanted to be good for Ivan, and even now, in the wake of that night of pleasure, that hasn't changed. He's still the same soft-hearted boy as always, cleaning and cooking and minding house while Ivan works the field and tends to the concerns of the commonfolk.
Today, he is helping Ivan with the farm — partly, anyway. The raspberry harvest came in earlier than expected, so Yoze has had to rush to prepare a variety of pies and jams. The preserves, perhaps, they'll be able to sell at market in town; the young wives of the village will love it, given that, unlike Yoze, they are often too busy minding their small children to bother with things like jam.
And so, Yoze has gone to find Ivan in the field, carrying a tiny little plate upon which he's set a slice of bread already blanketed in a thick layer of sweet raspberry paste on top. The plate, of course, he'll take back in once Ivan is done — but the good pastor can't be seen with crumbs all over his fine robes! ]
Father Ivan! Are you tired? I brought you a little snack.
[ Nothing too indulgent, of course. Ivan lives such a modest life; he eats simple meals and prefers simple preparations. But a bit of jam on bread — that's as good as a decadent cake to him. ]