by J. C. Owens
Aidan blinked, uncertain. “So I would do as I did at the border fort?”
“Yes, in a larger and more public fashion. You did well. Your captain wrote a glowing report of your abilities and patience in teaching.”
Aidan flushed. He had never thought the man even noticed. “I know nothing of true teaching, your majesty. I simply did as I thought best.”
“You will have Torin at your side. I would assume that there is no one better to head the military than he, as he has done so for many years under much worse conditions.” He paused, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “If he is capable. He is very ill. Both mentally and physically. It remains to be seen how your return will affect him. It triggered this state, I believe.”
Aidan flinched. Once again his presence seemed to bring discord and pain.
Amadan raised a hand, obviously realizing where his thoughts were leading. “I believe that this needed to occur. He has no concept of self, of how to realize that he is in trouble. He buried the pain until there was no choice but for his body and mind to rebel. Your presence, that he has so longed for, may do more for him than all other things combined.”
Aidan shifted uneasily, feeling the need to find Torin, to see if there was hope to set things right between them. Now that there it had been made clear that he had not been brought here to serve punishment for past deeds, he could look to the future. He felt hope unfurling within him, fresh and tentative.
“You may go to him. Paulsten will be waiting to take you there.” Amadan’s tone had returned to an aloof neutral tone.
Aidan rose, relief spreading over him, and bowed to the king. He turned to the door, but just as he laid his hand upon the handle, Amadan spoke once more.
“We found the bodies of my family.”
Aidan paused, looked over his shoulder.
“My youngest brother was not among them.”
Aidan could only stare, disbelieving, the implications swirling round his mind. Shock froze him in place.
“How did you know about the stairs up the tower? You have never seen the area before.”
“I do not know, it just felt like someone guided me…” He stared into those implacable brown eyes. “Your majesty, you cannot truly believe…”
Amadan regarded him in silence for long moments.
“Yes. I can. Until it is proven otherwise, the coincidence is too great to be ignored.”
Aidan took a deep shuddering breath. “I cannot believe such a thing. I know what I am, and it is nothing royal. Please don’t…”
“I would say that the strength you have shown, the determination and compassion you have demonstrated to many is of a royal nature on its own. With no more than that, it would make me wonder. You have leadership in your blood and for now, I will not discard the fact you may well be my brother.”
Aidan’s breath hitched, tears welling in his eyes with the force of his emotions. “Please don’t… This means too much to me—to you—to be a mistake. I beg you, don’t taunt me with what I cannot have.”
“You can have this if I say so. There would be none to gainsay me.” Amadan rose and approached him once more, making Aidan flinch away.
Amadan stood before him, gently cupping his chin and forcing him to meet that powerful gaze.
“Torin is like a brother, close to my soul, my love never faltering. You are his heart and I would like nothing better for you to be part of me.”
Aidan could not see for the tears that flowed. “I want to know, desperately. But there is no way to be sure. I am sorry, your majesty, but anything could have happened to your brother. The absence of his remains does not mean that I am he.”
“It does not mean that you are not. The possibility exists. For now, I am content to let it lie until I find proof. Either way, if your relationship with Torin is resumed, as I pray it will be, you will be part of my people, part of my inner circle. Family.”
The king let him go, then slid his arms around Aidan’s shaking body, pulling his head against his warm chest.
“You don’t need to be alone again.”
Aidan let go utterly, shattered at last.
* * *
Paulsen guided him into the room, keeping an arm around his shoulders in comfort.
Aidan felt his thoughts freeze, his breath suspend for a long, agonized moment.
Torin lay still, drugged and unaware. A flashback to a time before…
He had aged, oh how he had aged. In so little time as a year, silver gleamed at his temples, though he was too young to bear such marks. His face, so strong and beautiful to Aidan, was gaunt and drawn, cheeks hollowed, skin pale and sallow with ill health.
His body, so big and powerful, seemed shrunken beneath the warm covers, far too thin for his size. Reduced, vulnerable.
It was unbearable to see.
Aidan stepped away from Paulsten’s embrace. What was Torin now? What did Aidan want him to be? Hurt from the past still simmered in his veins, yet now, seeing Torin like this, it seemed so long ago, something to move past rather than hold close.
He stepped to the bedside and raised a hand to touch Torin’s cool forehead, stroke back his tousled hair. It needed to be braided, tidied. His fingers combed through the strands, longing to set it to rights, as he longed to make Torin well, see him as he had been before.
His fingers shook uncontrollably. A sob rose from his throat as he laid a hand upon Torin’s cheek, hating the feel of skin stretched over bone, hating that his lover had come to this. The emotions, the distress that had to have lain beneath that strong exterior…
“The physicians will let him come out of it, now you are here. We will see how he reacts, but we are hoping your presence may stabilize him. If not, they will remain close at hand…”
Aidan laid a protective hand over Torin’s covered chest, a growl rising at the thought. “No. he will be better. I will do anything… Do not drug him.”
Paulsten lay a calming hand upon his shoulder and squeezed. “Only if there is no recourse. I hate to see him like this as well. Do what you can and we will go from there.”
Aidan nodded, watching Paulsten leave before turning back to Torin. He stroked a bare shoulder, then slowly began to disrobe, piece by piece, slowly and almost ceremonially.
Then he lifted the heavy covers and slid in beside Torin’s naked form. His body was cool to the touch, too cool for Aidan’s taste, so he draped his body over Torin’s to warm him.
Tears rose once more and he laid his head against Torin’s shoulder, breathing in that scent he had longed for. It seemed so unbelievable that he was here, that he had been encouraged, no, almost ordered to be with the man he loved. It seemed so improbable as though he would wake any moment and be in his bed at the fort, all this merely a dream.
He hugged Torin closer, one leg sliding between his lover’s.
By every god that exists, let this be real…
* * *
Torin was not sure if he was awake. He had seemed to exist only in dreams for a while, so that reality seemed harsh and jarring.
He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his room, his momentary panic assuaged by the familiar setting. He was warm, so beautifully warm…
His senses swirled uncomfortably, nausea roiling in his stomach for long moments. He fought it back, then lay still, beginning to sense things around him.
The blessed warmth was along one side of him, and with it a pleasant, familiar weight.
Tears rose, familiar in their presence. He must still be dreaming…
The weight shifted. A low groan sounded against his chest and Aidan’s tousled silver head rose, his sleepy eyes staring into Torin’s.
He tried to touch, but his fingers fell short, too weak, and he made a frustrated sound in his throat.
Aidan grasped his hand and raised it to his stubbled cheek. It felt so real, this dream.
“Torin,” the dream whispered, cradling his hand before reaching out to wipe away the tears that ran down his cheeks.
“I am here. Truly here. This is real, though I can scarcely believe in it.” He turned away, then reappeared with water, holding the glass to Torin’s dry, chapped lips.
He took a sip, then could not stop, reveling at the sensation of cool liquid trickling deliciously down his throat.
“Easy,” Aidan whispered, finally withdrawing the cup.
Torin moaned a protest, but Aidan shook his head. “Let that settle first, then you can have more.”
He stared into Aidan’s brilliant green eyes, so blessedly familiar, so beloved. “You are here.”
Aidan nodded, reaching out to stroke back Torin’s hair. He leaned into the touch, shaking, beginning to believe this could be real.
“I arrived last night. And found you like this.” The tone was gentle, but chiding. “You have not been caring for yourself. You can’t keep giving, my lord, and never taking. There is no balance in that.”
“I could not care,” he whispered, beginning to shake. “How could I care when I had driven away the one person I truly loved? There is peace now; there was nothing left for me.”
A small smile tilted Aidan’s lips, and Torin felt his heart lift at the sight of it.
“I should have stayed, should have made you see what we had, but I was too unsure of myself, too intimidated by the thought of Amadan. Now I would behave quite differently. I would fight for what we had, even against you.”
Torin struggled to bring him closer until they rested forehead to forehead.
“I am sorry, so very sorry. My words were pure reaction, pure foolishness.” He was breathless with the need to get out his confession. “I only came to realize the depth of what I felt later, when there was no hope.” He gave a bitter, choked laugh. “You should not forgive me. What I did was beyond…”
A slender finger pressed against his lips, halting his words.
“I forgive you.”
The words flowed over him like a cleansing balm, and he searched those green eyes desperately, wanting to believe, yet afraid to.
Aidan’s face tilted ever so slightly and warm lips touched his, a sweet benediction.
A sob broke from his throat, and he tried to fight the next one, feeling weak and pathetic in front of his lover. This was not who he was. He was always the strong one, always the one others looked up to.
He was not—this.
Arms enfolded him, whispers of love tickled his ear, and suddenly he was weeping uncontrollably.
He felt himself break with a sort of distant horror, wondering if this would be the final event that would drive Aidan from him, disgusted.
But Aidan only grasped him more tightly, and he felt warm moisture against his cheek. Aidan was crying with him.
That realization calmed him in some fashion he did not understand, as though they were united in this, neither one more damaged than the other.
Equal.
By the gods, he would strive to live up to what his lover needed, would devote himself to ensuring that he knew only happiness from this day forth. That, at least, he should be capable of.
Chapter Ten
Torin straightened his uniform collar with an impatient tug, frowning at himself in the mirror. The past few months had seen him regain some of his former muscle and size, but he was still too drawn for his tastes. He reached up to touch the silver at his temples, mouth tightening.
“Oh for the gods’ sakes.” Aidan stepped up to him and whirled him round, pressing up against him and kissing him passionately, his warm tongue slipping between Torin’s lips.
Thoughts of his inadequacies fled, and he purred, pulling Aidan tightly against his body, wondering if they had time…
Aidan pulled back, laughing, and smoothed Torin’s uniform to its former pristine perfection. “We will be late, and Amadan threatened bodily harm if we dawdled.”
“He needs to get a mate,” Torin murmured, managing a last lingering kiss on Aidan’s ear. Aidan hummed, a thoughtful, conniving sound, a glint in his eye that promised trouble for the king. “We shall have to look into that.”
Torin chuckled. The king would not know what had hit him.
Aidan tugged him round and began combing his hair, love in every touch. Torin stood, placid and content. He had just finished Aidan’s braid, and wondered if his lover knew the significance of the single bead he had used to tie it off. His grinned. He soon would.
It took all his will power to leave his lover unmolested, but at last they left their suite. Aidan was trying to hurry him along, concerned about the time, but Torin strolled, wanting to savor these moments.
They met many people in the hallways, and all bowed, smiles upon their faces, addressing them both by name.
Aidan frowned, obviously puzzled. Torin coughed to hide his laughter.
As they reached the great hall, Torin took Aidan’s arm and threaded it through his. His lover frowned at him, uneasy at this very public display, but he subsided rather than make a spectacle of themselves before others.
Torin smirked. Today his love, his Aidan, would be the center of attention.
“You are up to something.” A small growl underlined his mate’s whispered words.
“I am completely innocent of anything at this moment, my love.”
“That would be a first.”
Torin grinned proudly, earning a discreet, but strong, elbow jab.
He grunted with perhaps more drama than was needed, earning several inquiring stares from nearby courtiers. Others gave amused looks to their byplay, well used to it by now. Their acceptance of Aidan had initially stunned Torin, the change in attitude hard to accept, but time and familiarity had eased him. The people had begun to admire him for his own obvious merits, not just for his past deeds.
Torin was so damn proud.
Those who had been unable to accept his presence were either silent, or had found a need to be elsewhere.
Cermun had been one of those. He had returned to his father’s holding to the west. Torin had been saddened by his leaving. They had long been friends, but he could not countenance Cermun’s dislike of Aidan.
Perhaps one day…
He shook off the musings. Today was for celebrating.
Aidan glanced around like he expected to be pounced on by lions. Torin patted his hand where it lay on his arm and received a pointed glower in return.
He managed to hold a virtuous, inquiring expression, but it was a near thing.
Paulsten rose from his seat next to Amadan, grinning like a fool.
“You made it. We were wondering if we might have to drag you both in here half dressed.”
“It was a near thing,” Torin leered. He glanced at Amadan. “You better damn well appreciate that.”
The King smirked. “Oh I do, believe me.”
Aidan was a beautiful shade of red, quite striking with his silver hair.
Aidan gave a pointedly brief bow to his king, then swept past them all to seat himself in his usual place, three seats down from Amadan on the left.
Paulsten thumped Torin’s shoulder, winking. He laughed, unable to hold it in, before also bowing to Amadan and taking his own seat directly to Aidan’s right.
Aidan huffed at him in annoyance, but his attention was soon diverted as everyone settled at the tables and food began to be served. Aidan ate with his usual full-hearted absorption, only pausing periodically to ensure that Torin ate well.
He still struggled with appetite, and it was to his lover’s credit that he had gained any weight at all. He leaned close and kissed Aidan’s temple.
His lover glanced at him, concern in the depths of his eyes, until he saw Torin’s soft expression. Then he smiled and kissed him back fondly. In front of everyone.
A great gift. Torin felt he could burst with pride.
Aidan loved him. Him, Torin Amaldis Greyan. General of Ceratas’s army, military advisor to the king. But most importantly, lover to Aidan.
He fought to eat,
more out of excitement than his usual lack of appetite. When the last dish had been served, Amadan rose, waving down those who would have risen to show him respect.
“I have an announcement to make this evening.” Amadan’s deep voice carried to the farthest edge of the hall with ease. “This night, I claim one as my family, returned to us through many a trial.” He turned his head and pinned Aidan with his gaze.
A stunned silence fell. Aidan froze, eyes wide and panicked.
“Come forth, Aidan.”
Aidan rose on shaking legs, looking at Torin with fear rising in his expression. Torin stood, embraced him.
“He remembered, my love. The scar. It was his brother who bore it. You.”
Aidan shook his head frantically, but Torin took his hand and led him to where Amadan stood, tall and regal, waiting.
“Kneel, Brother.”
Torin helped him down, or his lover would have half fallen, so stunned was he. He stepped back, concern rising over pride as he saw Aidan begin to tremble.
Amadan stepped forward, laid a hand upon Aidan’s shoulder, then long fingers cupped the young man’s chin and made him look up.
“This day, I claim you as my brother, Aidan Telan Ameris. Hence forth you will be known as the crown prince of Ceratas.”
Paulsten and other companions, both Torin’s and Amadan’s, stood, cheering, joy in the sound and tears in their eyes.
It took a moment longer for the courtiers to react, but when they did, their response was overwhelming. They rose, clapping, their heartfelt shouts joyful as they rose to acknowledge their lost prince, come home at last.
* * *
“You knew,” Aidan’s tone was plaintive, accusing, as they undressed that night.
“Yes. I wanted to tell you so badly, but… Your hair, the bead, it has the royal sigil upon it. When we walked into the room, many knew then what was to happen.”
Aidan shook his head, reached out to stroke Torin’s cheek, his expression disbelieving. “I still have my doubts, my love. I have been struck across the mouth many times under my guardian’s tutelage. What if it is a scar from then?”