by Zaya Feli
Ren blinked the haze of thoughts away, focusing on Niklas' words. “What? What was a lie?”
“Everything Halvard said about my father. I thought he'd care, but I was a fool. A fucking fool, Ren. I wanted to matter, and in the end, I screwed over the only person I ever mattered to.”
“Niklas.” Ren said his name softly, crouching down so they were at eye level. His heart swelled against his will and his efforts at keeping compassion at bay grew weaker.
At the sound of his name, Niklas' head came up.
“What matters is that you're here now. We're going to win this war and then we're going to sort it out. You and me, we'll sort it out,” Ren said, eyes boring into Niklas'.
Niklas' lips parted and he swallowed. He smiled, but the expression seemed sad. “Look at you. You're so strong and capable. Hellic would be proud.”
Ren looked away.
“I can't stay, Ren. I just came to deliver the message. Halvard says he'll start killing hostages if I don't return.”
Ren's eyes widened. “But why? If you're so useless to him, then-”
“I've seen too much, Ren,” Niklas said, voice full of pain. “I know too much. He doesn't want to risk it. You have no idea how good he is at making threats. Nathair too. I have to be back before the hour's up”
Ren flinched. Over half that time had passed already. He'd hesitated too long before seeing Niklas. “When we breach the city, stay out of the fighting, okay?” he said, gripping Niklas by the shoulders. Sadness and longing clawed at his heart. “Just stay out of the way. Don't raise your sword against our men.”
Niklas opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to change his mind. His eyes grew dark and his jaw went tight. “Don't get killed.”
“You either.” Ren rose to his feet, feeling light-headed. He wanted to say something more, but the words got caught in his throat. Instead, he turned, pushing the tent flap aside. “Cut him loose and send him back to the city,” Ren said to the guards outside. They looked at him in confusion, but Ren had no patience to explain. “Do it now.”
Anik, who'd been sitting on a barrel waiting for Ren's return, got to his feet the moment he saw Ren.
Ren didn't give him a chance to speak, but walked past, waving his hand at Anik to follow. “We need to talk.” He should have done this weeks ago.
* * *
Ren sat with his elbows on his knees, trying to ignore his heart's desire to crawl its way out of his throat. Anik had said he'd been wrong about Ren, that Ren wasn't the asshole he'd thought he was. Now, Anik would have to reconsider. Then again, Ren had never suffered any consequences for his actions. Maybe it was only right that he should now. Still, a selfish little voice reminded him that Anik had just spoken about returning to the Lowlands. Hearing what Ren had to say might make Anik never want to visit him in Aleria.
“Hey,” Anik said, bumping his shoulder against Ren's. “You're spacing out. Talk to me.”
Ren ran a hand over his mouth. “There's something I should have told you a while ago. I just...” He sighed. “I had pushed it out of my mind so aggressively that I'd convinced myself it had never happened. Then I started dreaming about it, and-”
“Whoa there,” Anik said, leaning forward to catch Ren's eye. “Start from the beginning.”
Ren swallowed, nodding slowly. He wanted to warn Anik. His mind was already spinning ways to convince Anik not to judge him for his actions, but he pushed them all aside. He deserved to be judged.
“When I was young, eleven or twelve, we had a Lowlander slave at the castle. When I met you, I thought I'd never seen a Lowlander up close before, but I had forgotten about him. He was maybe a few years older than me. He was a gift to the court that no one wanted. Even the other slaves treated him badly. He always got the worst chores. I saw the others picking on him, but I never said anything. I didn't care.”
He sighed, looking down at his hands. “One day, I went out into the fields with Niklas, Keelan, and Hellic. We were bored and looking for something to do. Niklas had brought the Lowlander slave. I wasn't sure why, but... Hellic had his bow with him and we shot bags of potatoes and apples on a fence. I had hardly shot a bow before, and I was horrible at it. Then I landed a perfect shot on an apple and thought I was the kingdom's best marksman.” He grimaced, not daring to look at Anik. “Niklas suggested a twist to the game. The week before, a travelling band of performers had put on a show at court. Skilled marksmen had shot apples off the heads of beautiful youths and Niklas thought I could do the same. He-” Ren took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “He made the Lowlander slave stand against a tree, placed an apple on his head, and handed me the bow.”
“Shit.” Anik was quiet, but the word still made Ren flinch.
“I thought I had it under control. Of course, I didn't. I was a stupid twelve-year-old with a deadly weapon,” Ren said, voice twisting with disgust. “None of us knew what the fuck we were doing. The kid was trembling, scared out of his mind. None of us cared. He was just a Lowlander.” Ren bowed his head, resting it in his hand. “I missed the shot. Caught him right between the neck and shoulder. He started choking and I didn't know what to do. None of us did. There was so much blood.”
He squeezed his eyes shut when the images flashed before his eyes. “I tossed the bow and ran back to the castle. I think Keelan told Callun what had happened and they went back for the boy. The arrow had gone straight through and pinned him to the tree. All he could do was stand there with an arrow through his body and watch us run.” Ren took a deep breath, not able to fill his lungs. “He survived, but I don't think he was the same after that. They said he stopped speaking. I don't know. They sent him away. I waited the whole next day for someone to come to my rooms and make me pay for what I'd done, but no one ever did. They just forgot about it. I forgot about it. I didn't mean to hit him.”
He cleared his throat, looking at the tent ceiling, heart hammering. “Say something.”
“Well,” Anik said slowly. “Since no one ever told you how much of a fucking idiot you were: you were a fucking idiot with a complete disregard for human life. You nearly killed an innocent boy and you should be ashamed of that.” Anik stood and Ren thought he'd walk out, but instead, Anik crouched in front of him.
“But you were also a child without a guardian to watch over you, and children have poor understanding of the consequences of their actions. You made a mistake, Ren. A bad mistake. The kind of mistake that'll haunt you for the rest of your life.” He reached out, taking Ren's hands in his own. “And I'm sure you've been beating yourself up enough these past few weeks that no one else needs to. Hey, look at me.”
Ren did, lifting his head to look into Anik's dark eyes.
“You've learned. You've grown and you're sorry. Correct?”
Ren nodded, not trusting his voice. He could hardly believe what he heard.
“You did a bad thing, but you're wiser now. Learn from it – don't let it eat you up.”
Ren parted his lips, clearing his throat again. “You're not angry with me?”
Anik smiled, reaching up to run his hand through Ren's hair. “No, I'm not angry with you. No one goes through life without doing things they regret. The regret is the important part. The regret means you have a heart.”
“I never wanted to touch a bow again,” Ren said, rubbing at his eyes. “I couldn't shoot the attackers at Stag's Run.” He sighed. “Halvard instructed Niklas to tell the entire army what I'd done. He wanted it to undermine us before the battle.”
Anik narrowed his eyes, confusion flitting over his face. “Why not let everyone know you're his son?”
“I wondered that too,” Ren said. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I think that might harm him more than it would help. Suddenly, everyone would know that he not only stole the throne from his own son, but is fighting a war against both his children. Evalyne's Skarlans are already following a child of Halvard into battle. Knowing they're following two isn't likely to rattle them.
For Halvard, on the other hand, that secret might make some of his own men turn against him. Considering what kind of man he is, the soldiers fighting for him are likely doing it out of duty to the throne, not affection for their king.”
“Well, that's our luck at least,” Anik said, standing between Ren's legs. He offered Ren a hand and Ren took it, letting Anik pull him up. “Then we don't have to deal with breaking that bit of news to over two thousand people.”
Ren groaned, taking a step forward and dropping his head against Anik's shoulder. “Don't even joke about it.”
“Eventually, it's going to come out,” Anik said. He stroked his hand up the back of Ren's neck to ease his words.
Ren sighed. “I know. I need to be the one to do it. And I will, just...not yet.”
“When you're ready,” Anik said.
* * *
Eating goulash with Anik in their tent really had been the last bit of relaxation Ren got to enjoy that day. Evalyne summoned them to her tent and Ren spent a quarter of an hour dealing with uncomfortable questions about Niklas. When everyone was satisfied Niklas hadn't posed a serious threat, they moved on to discuss battle tactics. Halvard was apparently waiting for them to make the first move against the city, comfortable and content behind Aleria's high walls, so Evalyne had opted to wait until dawn to engage.
Servants brought food and they ate through their discussion. By the time the sun sank and torches were lit, Ren's head spun with battle formations, flank protection, attack tactics, and defence plans. Eventually, Evalyne sent them out with orders to get plenty of rest, but Ren wasn't sure if he could. The battle at Llyne had been brutal, terrifying. A battle on the scale of the one coming seemed almost incomprehensible. He could die. Anik could die. They could all die. As much as Ren hoped for a glorious victory, it was just as likely they'd be crushed like ants. Aleria had never before taken by an invading army. Since the day she'd been built, she had been invincible.
Ren's skin crawled with the need to move, to shake the antsy feeling from his muscles, so when Anik said, “You're way too riled up to go to sleep, aren't you?” Ren took the chance to push anxiousness aside and still his mind.
Anik took Ren to the edge of the camp, where the ground was somewhat level and the grass had been flattened. He kicked off his boots, drew his sword, and told Ren to show him what he'd learned.
Ren hadn't wasted time since their departure from Llyne. Following Anik's training routine every morning before breakfast and every night before bed had been a sour task, but he knew he had been working towards this – the final battle.
Ren tugged off his boots, drew his sword, and fell into position. His arm trembled when he raised his sword, muscles weak from the time it had taken to recover from the wound.
Anik lowered his weapon, then tossed it to his left hand. “Switch sides. Let's not push it,” he said.
Ren knew Anik's fighting style, knew he wasn't worse off with his left hand and could probably still beat Ren blind-folded, but for once, Ren was glad. He wanted a challenge. He wanted to be pushed, to be so tired that his mind simply had to surrender to sleep.
Ren charged. For a moment, having his sword in his left hand threw him off and he faltered in his first attack. He had to rearrange his mind, mirror all the motions he had been practising. Anik deflected his strike and told him to start again.
It didn't take long for them to start sweating. Anik drove Ren brutally, barking at him to mind his flanks and remember his footwork, but Ren was glad to see that he could keep Anik on his toes. Despite Ren's struggles, Anik wasn't used to fighting a left-handed opponent either, and Ren allowed himself a moment to celebrate when he broke through Anik's defence and tapped the flat of his sword against Anik's hip. Anik still caught it, but late enough that it would have left a furrow in his flesh in a real fight. Anik praised him for the hit and went right back to driving Ren around the ring of grass, but the wolfsblood thistle had done its job. Ren stood his ground. Anik got him on his back in the grass once, but unlike the first time many weeks ago, Ren recovered by rolling to the side and kicking Anik's ankles, forcing him back so he could regain his footing. For that, Ren earned a toothy grin before they threw themselves into the next series of attacks.
Ren panted, muscles burning when he raised his sword again to block Anik's attack. Anik advanced and Ren pulled out of his range, but stumbled. Anik's hand twisted in the front of his jacket, stopping his fall. He spun Ren around and pushed him against a nearby wagon. Then they stood, face to face, inches apart and panting for breath. It was dark, but Ren could see Anik's face clearly. His eyes fell on Anik's lips, full, curved and slightly parted. His silent request was all it took for Anik to close the last few inches and draw him into a kiss, hard but brief because they were still out of breath.
Their chests rose and fell against each other. Ren could feel the heat radiating off their bodies and smell sweat from exertion. Desire sparked through Ren like a flash of lightning and he leaned in for a second kiss, pushing against Anik's hand on his chest. He tilted his head, closed his mouth over Anik's exposed throat and earned himself a sound of pleasure.
“Let's go back,” Ren murmured against Anik's skin.
Anik let him go and Ren took his hand, lacing their fingers together. He led Anik through the camp, barefoot in the darkness because finding their boots and lacing them up seemed entirely redundant for the activities Ren had in mind.
Guards had been stationed at his tent to keep watch overnight and Ren brushed past them, not bothering to send them away.
“The guards,” Anik started, letting Ren take him by the shoulders and turn him around.
“Forget about them,” Ren said, letting the tent flap fall closed before tugging impatiently on the hem of Anik's shirt. He discarded it on the grass, stepping back to take in the sight of Anik's finely muscled chest, shining like brushed gold in the faint light from the lamp. Ren reached out, then made himself pause. He was always like this. Fast, hard. But this was Anik and Anik was one of a kind. He deserved Ren's careful attention, his full set of skills and his absolute best. Stepping in close, Ren placed his palms flat against Anik's stomach and stroked upwards. Anik's hands found his hips, drawing him in.
“What are you thinking?” Anik asked, breathless, but not from the fight.
“I'm thinking-” Ren said softly, then cut himself off, leaning in to brush his lips against Anik's bare chest and smiled at the shudder that rolled through Anik. In the back of his mind, he knew why he was really doing this. Tomorrow, it could be all over. He might never see Anik again and he didn't want to go into it never having found out where Anik liked to be touched, what would make him tremble and gasp. What he was like with nothing between them. “I'm thinking you've done so much for me.” Standing on his toes, he placed a kiss below Anik's ear, resting the side of his face against his neck. “I want to make you feel good.”
Anik's hands tightened on his hips and Ren smiled, taking Anik by the shoulder. He backed him against the cot and made him sit, tugged open his jacket and discarded it with his undershirt. Anik's chest was warm against Ren's hands when Ren pushed him onto the cot and crawled over him, a knee on either side of Anik's hips. Like this, sprawled out with his chest bare and his trousers low on his hips, Anik was a sight to behold. Ren leaned down, pressing kisses against his throat – and found tension.
Raising his head, Ren regarded Anik in the soft light. Anik cheeks were flushed and his face turned away.
Ren sat back against Anik's thighs. “What's wrong?”
Jerking his head forward once more, Anik blinked as if he'd been caught in a lie, flushing an even deeper red. He shook his head. “Nothing. I just haven't done this in a while. I don't want you to stop,” he said, reaching for Ren's face. Ren caught Anik's hand and laced their fingers together.
“You really suck at lying, do you know that?” Ren asked, offering Anik a soft smile. “I told you I wanted to make you feel good. So tell me what's wrong,” he said gently, slipping off
Anik's thighs and wiggling against his side on the cot, propping himself up on one elbow.
“I'm going to ruin the mood,” Anik warned, long eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he looked down at their joined hands.
“Luckily, I'm a master at mood-salvaging, so give me your worst,” Ren insisted.
Anik smiled, but then he sighed, reaching up to tug the leather band from his hair. He ran his fingers through the dark, wavy strands. “In the dungeons in Iskaal...” he began, avoiding Ren's gaze. When he continued, his quiet murmur and the softness of his accent made his words difficult to understand. “Nathair liked to strip me naked. He said he owned all of me. That I could keep no part of myself safe from him. He never...” He stopped himself, clearing his throat before he went on. “But I've never felt so vulnerable in my life. I didn't think it would still bother me, but then I had to strip in Sekara and I couldn't-” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “It's such a stupid thing to be scared of. I trust you. I know you're not going to-”
Anik's throat worked and Ren could see how he struggled. He wanted to take that wide-eyed look off Anik's face.
“It's not stupid,” Ren said, rubbing Anik's knuckles with his thumb. “I promise I won't do anything you don't like. If you want to stop, we'll stop. You only have to say. I'll go slow. How's that?” Anik had always been guarded. Ren should have known he'd be guarded about this, too, after everything.
Anik blinked slowly, eyes darting to the oil lamp. “Can we leave the light on?”
Ren's smile widened. “Do you really think I'd miss one second of pleasure on that gorgeous face of yours?”
Anik smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing.
“May I continue?” Ren asked smoothly, gently pushing Anik onto his back and sliding against his chest.
“Go ahead,” Anik said, copying Ren's tone, hands finding Ren's sides. They slipped underneath Ren's thin undershirt, tracing the dip of his spine. It was all the encouragement Ren needed.