by Zaya Feli
Ren did as he had promised, taking his time. He kissed his way down Anik's neck, pausing where the horseshoe pendant lay against his skin like a physical symbol of their connection. The metal seemed to burn against Ren's lips when he kissed it. He moved down Anik's chest, stomach, hips, until Anik was shifting and sighing beneath him. Ren stroked his hands over warm skin, over the bumps of faintly raised scars. A little half-moon mark indicated where the whip had wrapped around Anik's body and cut into his flesh. Ren kissed there, too, a little slower, desire coiling hot inside him. He was heady with it. Kissing Anik like this felt like gaining access to a treasure kept under lock and key. A privilege.
“Ren,” Anik said. There was tension in his tone.
“Mmhm?”
“When you said 'slow' I didn't think-”
“Hush,” Ren said, smiling up at him. There was no way he could have missed the pronounced hardness between Anik's legs, rubbing against his chest. “Leave it to the expert.” He crawled downwards, holding Anik's gaze as he bowed his head and parted his lips, tugging on the front laces of Anik's trousers with his teeth. The growl he received from Anik was pure gold, and so was the hand in his hair that tightened with poorly contained frustration.
All right, he wasn't cruel.
Ren tugged on Anik's trousers, a shiver of desire rolling through him when he saw that Anik wore nothing underneath. He paused. Old scars crisscrossed Anik's hips and thighs, even more there than elsewhere on his body.
Anik raised his head, a flicker of uncertainty breaking through the haze of pleasure Ren had so carefully created.
Ren offered Anik a smile in return and saw the uncertainty melt away, heard it leave in a heavy sigh when Anik dropped his head onto the pillow.
Anik's cock lay hard and heavy against his hip and the sight made Ren tremble. When he wrapped a hand around it and took it in his mouth, Ren had to part his jaws.
Anik gasped, his whole body rolling beneath Ren, muscles twitching with a need Ren knew well. He made a soft sound and stroked Anik's hip to let him know he didn't have to keep still.
Ren tilted his head back, taking in the view of pleasure on Anik's face. Brow bunched up and cheeks reddened, Anik breathed what sounded like a Lowlandish curse. A wave of victory rolled through Ren's body and made it difficult not to smile. Being able to put an expression like that on Anik's face would have made up for being shot with arrows twice over.
Ren rolled out his whole array of skills, craving the way Anik's grip in his hair tightened, sounds sweet as honey filtering past his lips. Ren didn't try to hold him back, but let Anik take what he needed, accommodating with his hands lightly stroking Anik's thighs. Anik muttered something about tongue and lips and then gasped.
A familiar but not unpleasant taste filled Ren's mouth and he swallowed, a dull ache in his jaw that he didn't mind at all when he sat up between Anik's legs. Ren smiled down at him, avoiding wiping his mouth because he knew the way his lips would be glistening and he loved the way Anik stared.
“Wow,” Ren huffed, huffing out a laugh as he stroked the sides of his sore jaw.
“Sorry?” Anik said, expression somewhere between arousal and guilt.
Ren shook his head. “Don't ever be sorry,” he said, bowing to kiss Anik's chest. Anik caught his chin between his fingers and guided him up to his mouth. Ren settled, straddling Anik's waist and moaned into the kiss, letting Anik claim his mouth with new confidence. “You dirty dog,” Ren murmured against his lips.
Anik laughed, then stilled. His hands roamed, brushing over the tightness of Ren's trousers and lingering there. Ren made a soft sound, pushing up against his hands. The moment Anik pushed the fabric below his hips and wrapped his hand around him, Ren knew he wouldn't last long. He spread his legs, stroking his hands over Anik's wide shoulders with a pleased sigh. Anik twisted his hand and the defined muscles of his arm shifted. Anik had carried Ren once before and Ren could imagine what it'd be like to be lifted in those arms, his back against a wall and his legs around Anik's hips. His breath hitched, back arching as he shuddered. He should have known Anik's skilled hands could handle more than swords and horses. Ren had never cared much for his partners using their hands on him, but now-
Anik's smoky voice made its way through the haze of Ren's mind. He couldn't understand the words, but they were soft and melodic, with an undertone of something Ren had never heard before.
With Anik's hands on his body and his soft whispers in his ears, Ren let the rush of pleasure take him, filling him with warmth and ecstasy. Ren thought he might have cried out. Anik said something else, a smile colouring his voice, and it took Ren a moment of coming back to himself to realise Anik had been speaking the common language.
“What?” Ren asked. He looked down Anik's body and regarded the mess he had made with satisfaction. He likely looked like a mess himself.
Anik didn't seemed to mind, folding his hands behind his head to invite Ren to admire his work. “You might have woken our neighbours,” Anik said, laughter in his tone.
Ren raised an eyebrow. “I wasn't that loud,” he said. He climbed off the cot on shaking legs, rummaged through Anik's bag for the cloth he had been using to wrap the wolfsblood. Straightening, he tossed it at Anik.
“Come back to bed,” Anik said, wiping his belly and chest with no apparent haste.
“You a cuddler?” Ren asked over his shoulder, pouring himself a cup of water and draining it.
“You're not?” Anik dropped the cloth on the ground. He was beautifully flushed from face to chest, lower lip red from biting.
“I didn't say that,” Ren replied, filling the cup a second time before stepping over their discarded clothes to climb onto his side of the cot. He handed Anik the cup, but Anik placed it in the grass without drinking and wrapped an arm around Ren's waist, dragging him down instead. He felt Anik relax.
“What did you say?” Ren asked. He felt safe and warm snuggled against Anik's side, their bodies touching from ankle to shoulder. It was a tight squeeze on the cot, but it was the best Ren had felt in months. Maybe even years. His belly fluttered with contentment and something more intense.
“Hmm?” Anik murmured. His eyes were closed and his face relaxed. He breathed slowly, drifting somewhere between wakefulness and sleep.
“You said something in Lowlandish.” Ren trailed the tips of his fingers along Anik's belly and felt him react to the touch.
“Oh, yeah...” Anik murmured, already half asleep. A long moment of silence passed. Ren had almost given up on getting an answer, but then Anik spoke again, repeating the same words, still in Lowlandish.
Ren rolled his eyes, smiling. He was warm, comfortable, a little squished but happier than he had been in longer than he could remember. As he closed his eyes and let sleep take him, he couldn't help but think that so many of his happiest memories had Anik in them.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Teach me your language,” Ren whispered.
Dawn light filtered through the narrow gap in the tent entrance, painting a line of golden light from Anik's shoulder to his hip that Ren would have loved to trail with kisses if he hadn't been so thoroughly content where he was, pressed against Anik's warm side. The events of the coming day loomed, out there on the other side of the fabric walls of their sanctuary, and Ren was willing to do nearly anything to cling to peace a little longer. He trailed his hand through the golden line of light.
“What do you want to learn?” Anik asked. His eyes were still closed, but he was smiling, his grin growing the further down Ren's fingers trailed.
“I want to know how to say,” Ren paused, pursing his lips in thought, “'fuck me.'”
Anik chuckled, shaking his head. “Ra i ess. When would you use that?”
“I'd use it right now,” Ren teased, walking his fingers downwards over Anik's soft skin.
Anik caught Ren's hand and brought it up to his lips. “Don't be cruel. I doubt we have time for that.”
“Am I tempting you?” Ren pur
red.
Anik opened his eyes and looked at him. His expression was guileless, open. Ren would never tire of seeing it and he wished it didn't have to be replaced with the tension of battle.
“Eiki'ra il skahli,” Anik said slowly.
Ren watched his lips, paying close attention to the words. At the last one, he perked up. What had Ilias said it meant? Handsome. Dashing. “Why thank you,” he replied. “You are, too.”
Anik's eyebrows twitched and he turned towards Ren fully, searching his face. “I'm guessing you aren't that fast a learner. Who told you?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
Ren grinned. “Ilias.”
“Ah, of course. I should have guessed,” Anik said, rolling onto his back. This time, Ren followed, draping himself halfway across Anik's chest.
“How's your shoulder?” Anik asked, brushing his thumb over the pink arrow scar.
“Better. What's the word for shoulder?”
“Hmm? Havs.”
“Havs,” Ren repeated. “Stag?”
“Kivic. Deer is ikiv.”
Ren repeated the words and Anik gave a hum of approval.
“What do you think of your new sword?” Anik asked.
Ren hesitated. He could tell what Anik was trying to do. He sounded like a concerned parent sending a child off on their first boar hunt. 'How's your shoulder? Do you have your sword? Don't forget to tighten the girth of your saddle.' Ren smiled at the thought. “It feels good. It fits me well.” He sighed. “I miss Hellic's sword and it pains me every day that I left it behind, but I fight better with this one.” He looked to where their weapons lay across their bags. Anik's weapon was Fraynean, his own, Lowlander. Ren smiled at the observation.
Ren closed his eyes, resting his head on Anik's chest. He could feel the gentle rise and fall and hear the steady rhythm of Anik's heart. An unwelcome melancholy tried to force its way into his mind and Ren didn't manage to keep it out. “Don't die in there,” he whispered. He felt Anik stir, his hand coming up to rest on Ren's shoulder. “Not after I finally got to kiss you where it matters.”
Anik made a soft sound that told Ren he might be smiling. “You're the one who'll be in the midst of it. Earth knows I would have never sent you into battle with so little training.” There was a hint of tightness to his voice.
“You've taught me well,” Ren reminded him, closing his eyes when Anik's fingers trailed over his cheekbone. “I know what I can handle. I'm not planning to throw myself into the fray. I'm there to help Evalyne control the fight, keep a lookout, and be a symbol for the soldiers.”
“That almost makes me feel better,” Anik said. His arm around Ren's shoulders tightened, and when Ren looked up, he saw that the frown had returned to Anik's brow.
“What can I do to ease your mind?” Ren asked, tracing the curve of the horseshoe pendant with the tip of his finger.
Anik sighed, turning his face into Ren's hair. “Stay alive.”
“I told you I would,” Ren said.
“I mean it.”
Ren pushed himself up, fitting his body on top of Anik's, chest to chest. He ran both hands through the tangled strands of Anik's hair.
Anik shook his head, hands curving around the small of Ren's back. “I tried so hard not to care about you. Did you know?” he asked.
Ren hummed. “I got that impression.”
“Not just because of what I told you.” Anik's frown grew deeper as his gaze fell on Ren's shoulder and the mark there. “It terrified me.”
Ren tilted his head, hands going still in Anik's hair. Anik didn't strike him as someone who would be afraid of something as simple as affection.
Anik turned his face into Ren's touch. “Halvard took everybody from me. I tried so hard to protect the people I cared about, but I got all of them killed anyway. I didn't think my heart could handle it happening again.” He swallowed. “I still don't think... I tried to stop caring. I tried not to care about you, and I got so fucking angry at myself for caring anyway. I can't lose you, too.”
Ren's breath caught in his throat. He knew now that Anik's cold exterior, his crossed arms and walls of defence, were a trick. Anik had kept himself hard, not because Halvard had made him bitter, but because he was afraid to love. Only, Anik's heart was too big. Ren saw that clearly. Anik couldn't shut himself off like that. It would tear him apart. Ren's heart swelled with the desire to ease Anik's struggles, to make sure Anik would never have to worry about having his heart torn again. “I promise,” he said, taking Anik's chin between his fingers so he could lock their eyes. “I promise I'll be careful. I promise I'll be there when you return with the hostages. I promise.”
Anik's eyes were intense when he wrapped his hand around the back of Ren's neck and drew him down for a kiss.
Afterwards, Ren lay with his arm over Anik’s chest, eyes closed. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said, a whispered confession. He felt Anik shift as he canted his head to look at him.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I mean after,” Ren said, raising his head. “When it’s over. You said you’d have to return to the Lowlands.”
Anik looked at him for a long moment, a muscle sliding in his jaw when he brushed back a lock of Ren’s hair. “I won’t be gone forever. I’ll come back to you.”
Ren swallowed, trying to control the dread that filled him. “I don’t know how to do it all without you.”
Anik hushed him. “You do. You have already.” He pressed a finger to Ren’s lips when he tried to protest. “Believe in yourself. You’re stronger than you think.”
“Do you promise you’ll come back?” Ren asked, wrapping his fingers around Anik’s tattooed wrist.
“I promise. Do you really think I’d let go of the thing I want to keep the most?”
When Ren didn’t answer, Anik trained him with a hard glare. “I’ll swear on it if you want me to. Before you, and the earth, and every soldier in this camp-”
“All right,” Ren said. He bowed his head, cheeks flushing. His smile coloured his words when he spoke. “You don’t have to. I believe you.” And he did. Anik would return to him like he had before. No matter what happened, they’d work it out. Ren knew that with absolute certainty. It evaporated the fear gnawing in the pit of his stomach.
The sound of shouted orders outside made them turn. Anik sighed, squeezing Ren's shoulder a little tighter. “Sounds like we better get moving.”
* * *
Ren left their tent in a light-headed daze, still feeling warm and buoyant. He wanted to cling to the feeling for as long as he could, but the farther he walked through the camp, the more it faded.
Ren stopped in front of the physician's tent, pushing the flap aside. “Jayce?” He paused.
Jayce sat on a stool against one of the tent poles. Ilias was on his lap, sideways, with Jayce's arm around his shoulders. In Ilias' hands were needle and thread, a stretch of leather draped over his knees. They sat so close, Ilias' head resting in the crook of Jayce's neck, that Ren felt he had intruded on something private. Then Jayce and Ilias raised their heads and smiled at him.
“Am I disturbing you?” Ren asked, lingering in the tent opening.
Jayce shook his head.
Ilias flashed Ren an even wider smile, slid off Jayce's lap, and displayed the stretch of goat hide for Ren. “Jayce is teaching me to stitch,” he said, letting Ren take the leather.
“That's really well done,” Ren said, smoothing his thumb over the fine stitching.
Ilias beamed, cheeks rosy. “I'm practising so I can move onto people.”
“I'd trust you to sew me up,” Ren said, handing Ilias back the goat hide, smiling at the way the youth blushed impossibly redder.
“I-I'll get the water,” Ilias said to Jayce, setting the hide on the table before darting outside.
“Keelan was awake this morning,” Jayce said.
“How's he doing?” Ren asked.
“He's in pain, and no wonder. He's a tough kid, though. I think he'll be fine.”
Ren looked towards the canvas curtain that separated the two halves of the tent, shielding Keelan's bed. “When he wakes up again, tell him I came by,” he said, swallowing. “Tell him I'm glad he's here.”
“I will,” Jayce said softly. “They told us the army is departing for Aleria this morning.”
Ren nodded slowly. He walked over to sit on one of the stools by the folding table.
Jayce turned towards him, arm resting on the tabletop. “What is it, Ren?”
Ren took a breath, running a hand through his hair. He balanced his elbows on his knees. “There's something I haven't told you,” he said after a long moment. “Something you deserve to know.”
Jayce didn't say anything, simply waited for Ren to continue.
Ren didn't know how to say it gently – didn't think there was a way. Instinctively, he wanted to soften the blow, to make it easier on himself the way he had tried to when he had revealed the subject of his nightmares to Anik. He knew he was overthinking things. “Halvard is my father,” he said, clenching his jaw afterwards as if his body wanted to take the words back. His heart clenched and he felt like he should explain before Jayce could begin to spin awful ideas about him. “That's why he's chased us down. Why we'd had to run. I didn't know. Not until Evalyne told me in Llyne. I'd been meaning to tell you, but I was afraid you'd-”
“Ren.”
Jayce's soft voice made Ren raise his head.
Jayce wasn't scowling. He didn't even look shocked. Instead, he smiled, a little crookedly due to the scars on his face. “Did you think I'd yell at you?”
Ren paused, mouth half-open. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure Jayce had the capacity to yell at anyone. Still, the fear of putting the truth out there for someone to weigh against him sent a shiver down his spine.
“You didn't bat an eye when I told you I was Skarlan,” Jayce said. “You were always kind to me. My brother, too.”
Ren shrugged. “If you're loyal to Frayne, you're one of us.”
Jayce smiled softly, tilting his head at Ren. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”