Redamancy

by T D Cloud

  “I could have gotten you a chair,” he managed to say, voice shaking. Gods, he really felt like he might cry.

  Avarria waved her hand at him, shushing him as she stared at the floor. “Don’t worry about that,” she murmured, raking her fingers through her hair. “Just… Just give me a minute. I can’t…” Her voice faded as she brought her hand to her mouth, pressing her knuckles to her lips as she closed her eyes tight.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Navidae pleaded. He kneaded at his eyes, willing himself to calm down. “Please. I’ve felt so sick since this all started. I can’t take much more of this.” He might throw up before this day was over. Already he could taste the bitter bile in the back of his throat.

  “How… long have you been with him?”

  Navidae swallowed it down, pressing with his hands until sparks erupted behind his eyes. “Fifty years,” he said hoarsely. “Give or take a few years.”

  “And who is he?” she asked next, words muffled by the hand no doubt still over her mouth. “Not a noble. A traveler?”

  He shook his head and slowly lessened the pressure on his eyes. “A thief,” he breathed, smiling weakly despite himself. “A would-be assassin who came for my head. He left with my heart instead.”

  “Vida.”

  Somehow he managed to lift his head. His mother opened her eyes and glanced at him, but only for a second.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked the floor. “About him. About any of this.”

  “You didn’t want to listen,” he said weakly. “How could I tell you when you wanted to hurt me? How could I give you the thing that’d hurt me most? Khouri… He’s all I have. You didn’t want to believe I might be better than Father—”

  “No,” Avarria cut in, lifting her head. Her jaw was tight, her eyes clear. “No, Vida. I always hoped. I prayed. I wanted to believe, but I… You never…”

  Navidae hung his head and yanked at the back of his hair. Only for a moment though. He remembered Khouri and his words. Bad habits all around. He curled his fingers into a loose fist, letting it rest on the back of his neck. “I think we both didn’t want to think the best of one another. I can’t even remember the last time we spoke in person. Your letters were always about the House.”

  She made a sound in her throat. Navidae looked up. His eyes went wide when his mother reached out a hand to take him by the cheek. Warm. So warm.

  “I think it’s time we fix that,” his mother whispered, stroking down his cheek before she smoothed a lock of hair away from his eyes. “That is… If you can forgive me. If you want to speak to me again after this.”

  His heart thudded in his chest. “Does that mean you’re going to stop?” he breathed, taking her hand in his own to hold it to his cheek desperately. “That you’ll drop the investigation?”

  A smile quirked her lips. It was small, shaky. A crooked little thing that nearly broke Navidae’s heart. “I will,” she said with a weak voice, “if you let me meet him again. The one who made you love.”

  Navidae gave up on preparing for the worst. He’d lived in misery these past few months because of this. He’d grappled with his worst nightmares, the thought of losing Khouri, his freedom, his place he’d built in this world. Like a breeze whispering through an open window, it all left him. His lungs filled for what felt like the first time in years. Navidae choked on a laugh. He closed his eyes and brought his mother’s hand to his lips, kissing it as he gave himself fully to the feeling of victory. Of absolution.

  He’d gone into this meeting thinking one thing, but instead of what he’d expected… He found this strange, unsettling territory instead. Sorin had told him from the start. Doubting him… Gods. He’d been right again.

  “Just like that damn bullfrog,” Navidae muttered, laughing even as he fought the urge to cry. His mother carded her fingers through his hair, and he gave into the urge to rest his head on her lap. A long buried instinct, a memory he could only just recall.

  The hand paused in his hair.

  “What’s a bullfrog?” Avarria wondered, and Navidae gave into the urge. Into every urge. Tears ran down his cheeks. His hands tightened in the fabric of her gown. He laughed harder and lifted his head to smile at his mother.

  “Something stupid I once did,” he said, seeing the same tears in her own eyes, the eyes they shared. “I’ll tell you about it someday,” Navidae promised, letting her wipe away his tears. “What do you want to know about Khouri?”

  So much they needed to share and even more still left to go. A hundred years worth of memories and mistakes and bridges they had yet to repair. But they would get there, Navidae thought.

  They’d come this far; the rest would come on its own.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Khouri laid down another hand of winning cards, and even as Sorin swore the air blue, he found it hard to pay attention to the victory when every second that passed was another second that Navidae’s meeting dragged on. He stared down at the alternating card faces and bit viciously at his lip. Sorin told him Navidae invited his mother here to apologize; did apologies always take this long?

  Maybe they did when the person you had to apologize to was your mother.

  “You’re worrying again,” Sorin observed, breaking Khouri from his thoughts with a decisive prod to his forehead. Khouri winced and jumped back, rubbing at the spot with a muted glare. “Stop worrying. Things will work themselves out. Just give it time.”

  Khouri crossed his arms, his frown staying firmly in place. “I interrupted them though,” he said, clenching his jaw and knocking the cards into a messy pile with a frustrated swipe of his hand. They fluttered and then settled, and Khouri flopped onto the bedspread, hiding his face a little in the nearest pillow. “I went in and made an ass of myself and I was rude to her, Sorin. I made it all worse.”

  “You were rude to me when we first met,” Sorin muttered, inspecting the cards carefully. “Look where we are now. I doubt you did anything so bad that she won’t be charmed by you in the end just like everyone else.”

  “That’s rich of you to say “ A harrumph left his lips as he snipped, “You were rude to me too, you know.”

  Sorin raised a brow. “I’d call what she’s doing pretty rude, so maybe this is just how you meet new people.”

  Khouri sat up a bit, frowning all the deeper. “She’s his mom, Sorin. She’s not like everyone else I’ve met. You have a mother.” Khouri clutched the silk sheets tightly. “What are they like?

  What do you think she’s going to do? Will she listen to him?”

  Sorin sighed and pushed him back onto the bed with a hand on top of his head. Khouri fell with a huff. Sorin patted his shoulder before taking up the cards to stack them into a neat deck once more. “Relax. I may not know a ton about Drow, but I know well enough that things aren’t as broken as you all seem to think.” He glanced at Khouri, the corner of his lip curling upwards in a wry grin. “It’s Navidae’s fault it even got this bad. Saying sorry to your mother shouldn’t be your last resort. Idiot.”

  A part of Khouri wanted to defend Navidae, but even he had to admit that saying sorry was probably higher up on the list than Navidae had made it be. “Parents are weird,” he muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest to wrap his arms around them. “Parents are weird and I just want things to go back to the way they were before.”

  Warm and heavy, Sorin’s hand found its way to Khouri’s thigh and patted it soothingly. It lingered there and gave him a squeeze too for good measure. “Just give them the time they need to talk,” he said, setting the cards back down between them, neatly stacked and ready for another game. “Come on. Why don’t you hand me my ass again to get your mind off it?”

  Khouri sighed, nodding his head slowly. “You’re really getting good at losing to me, aren’t you?” he noticed, sitting himself upright.

  “Must be all the practice,” Sorin muttered, handing him the deck to let him deal. For as many times as they had played Reth at this point, t
he complicated shuffling and card allocation sequence still eluded him completely. Khouri took them in hand and began dealing the cards. Sorin drummed his fingers on his crossed thighs, watching him with careful eyes.

  Khouri raised a brow. “Something you wanna say to me?” he asked, tossing two cards at Sorin and then holding back four for himself.

  “Just making sure you aren’t cheating.”

  Scoffing, Khouri rolled his eyes. “How would you even begin to tell if I was?” he wondered, setting down the remaining deck in three neat stacks before taking up his alternating hand. It was an okay hand, nothing special, but when it came to playing Sorin, he didn’t need it to be great in order to win. “You can barely play your own hand let alone tell what I’m doing or not doing.”

  Sorin held up his hand and pointed a finger at Khouri, shaking his head with a sigh. “One of these days,” he said slowly, no doubt trying to sound imposing. “One of these days I’m going to win, and then I’ll be fully justified in shoving your pretty face in it.”

  Khouri hid his smile behind his cards, batting his lashes coquettishly. “You think I’m pretty?” he cooed, ruining Sorin’s attempt in one fell swoop.

  The sound of Sorin’s blustering nearly blotted out the sound of the door opening behind Khouri. Nearly, but not quite. Sorin managed to get about a third of the way through what promised to be a very spirited tirade when Khouri turned his head and caught sight of Navidae entering the room. The cards in Khouri’s hands fell to the bed. The expression on his lover’s face was completely unreadable.

  Khouri had to try twice before he found his voice. “Navi—”

  The door clicked shut behind Navidae’s back; his knees gave out beneath him. Khouri covered his mouth with his hand and watched as his lover collapse to the floor, back to the door, his face hidden in his hands. Ice flooded Khouri’s veins. The worst case scenario chased it, somehow colder. Khouri began to shake. Navidae… He was shaking too.

  Khouri was off the bed and running for Navidae before he quite realized it himself. He fell to his knees in front of his lover, touching his arms, his hair, his shoulders, touching every inch of him as if it might tell him what was wrong. Only, he knew what was wrong; there was only one thing that would prompt this, wasn’t there? A sick sense of dread filled Khouri in a wave. He licked his lips. He tugged at Navidae’s hands.

  “Navi?” he whispered, hearing Sorin shift on the bed. Khouri held up a hand and shook his head without looking away from Navidae. He needed to do this himself. “What is it, Navi? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

  A shake of the head was all Navidae managed to give him. “No, you can’t tell me?” Khouri guessed, tugging at

  Navidae’s wrists in hopes of getting a look at his face.

  “You’re… You’re scaring me, Navi. Please, what’s wrong?” “Did things go south?” Sorin called out, his voice grim.

  Khouri turned and glared at Sorin, hating how close he was to crying. “No!” he said firmly, squeezing Navidae’s wrists. “No, things are fine,” he rushed, struggling to keep his breathing in check. “Things are fine, right, Navi? You aren’t sending me away. I’m not leaving. No matter what she does—”

  The hands moved of their own accord. “Khouri,” Navidae croaked brokenly. Tears poured from his eyes, down his cheeks, matting his fringe into wet clumps. “Khouri, it’s fine. Don’t w- worry. It’s fine. I did it.”

  “You… You did it?”

  Navidae smiled, nodding his head. “Sorry. I’m a mess. Let me just—” He took back a hand and wiped at his face, breathing in and then breathing out, forcing himself to calm down. “I haven’t... It’s been a very long time since I’ve done this.”

  Khouri combed through his hair, nodding. “I’ve never seen you cry before,” he whispered, keeping up the contact until Navidae was a little more composed.

  “Con...Consider it payment for making you cry so much,” Navidae said, laughing a little as he sought out Khouri’s touch.

  What an idiot. He didn’t need to do that, especially when he was already crying with him. Khouri wiped the tears from Navidae’s cheeks. He sniffed loudly, smiling through his own.

  “Please stop crying,” he tried, peppering Navidae’s face with kisses. “It’s okay, Navi. You did it.”

  Navidae tangled his fingers through Khouri’s hair, pulling him closer until they were kissing. He wrapped his arm around Khouri’s waist and kissed with his whole body. All of the desperation of the past few weeks seeped through it. Stress, worry… It deepened the embrace until Khouri closed his eyes and melted into it, soothing his lover as he took his own comfort from the kiss.

  “I almost lost you,” Navidae gasped against his lips, the air thin between them but the need too great to even think of breaking away completely. “Gods, it was so close. I don’t know what I would have done. I can’t—” He shuddered, burying his face in Khouri’s neck.

  What he said next was muffled. Muffled and choked, the words garbled even as they vibrated against Khouri’s skin. “I…” But what was it? I need you? I want you? Both weren’t uncommon to hear from Navidae, but they felt a little out of place for the moment—

  Khouri’s eyes widened. He stopped breathing. Navidae was kissing him now, pecking chaste kisses against his lax lips and down his cheek and neck. “What?” he whispered, his fingers going tight in the fabric of Navidae’s shirt. There was no way this was actually happening. “What did you just say?”

  Navidae let out a breath, almost a shudder. He lifted his head and looked Khouri in the eye, and he… He smiled at him.

  Smiled warmly and openly, caressing Khouri’s cheek with his knuckles. “I love you, Khouri,” he said again for the first time, for the first real time. “I love you so much.”

  And Khouri began to breathe, his lungs filling just like that. His hands scrambled at Navidae’s arms, moving higher, clumsy and shaky, until he had Navidae’s face in his hands and those ruby red eyes on him and him alone. “I love you too, Navi,” Khouri breathed, sniffling and shaking as his tears began anew. He threw himself into Navidae’s arms, wrapping his arms around his lover’s neck to hold him as tight as he could manage.

  A wave of warmth filled him from within. He’d never expected to get this far with him. Now that he was here…

  A low whistle cut through the mood. Khouri and Navidae froze, remembering that they weren’t alone. Khouri lifted his head and looked at Navidae, and together they turned as one to look at Sorin. The man was rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks a little flushed.

  “This seems like a two-person conversation,” he muttered, moving to the edge of the bed. “If you’d get away from the door, I’ll just give you guys some privacy and—”

  “Don’t you dare,” Navidae interrupted, looking over Khouri’s shoulder with eyes that were trying desperately to harden. He scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, spitting his words through his shaking voice until he began to sound like he usually did. “What is it with you and trying to leave? You nose your way into our business and then think it doesn’t involve you after.”

  Sorin blinked. “But you’re— You really want me here right now?” He looked at Khouri and then down at his own hands. They were clasped in his lap, wringing themselves in worry. “I thought…”

  Khouri blinked rapidly, his eyes pricking with moisture that didn’t seem to want to leave him. He let out a weak laugh, hiding his face in his hands as the happiness bubbled up inside him until it threatened to overflow everything. “Sorin, you’re such an idiot,” he said, ignoring the irritated grunt that rose up in the wake of his words. “Why don’t you get it yet?”

  “Get what?” Sorin growled.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Navidae offered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe the fact that we enjoy your rough, crude, human company despite the fact that you’re a thousand years old?”

  “You’re the one who’s closer to a thousand than me,” Sorin bit, but it didn’t hold much weight to it. Instinct mor
e than sincere, the barb was a mask and Sorin wasn’t wearing it well. He planted his feet on the ground and crossed his arms. “Excuse me if I don’t consider myself an addition to whatever it is you two are.”

  “Um. You aren’t excused,” Khouri said blandly. “Because you are.”

  “Did you really think I’d let you sleep in my bed if you weren’t?” Navidae wrinkled his nose. “Pet, does he think I let just anyone sully my sheets? What kind of person does he take me for?”

  Khouri patted Navidae’s cheek, kissing it too for good measure. “The kind of person who waits until now to tell me you love me,” he teased, still giddy from hearing it even once. “What else can he think? You’re so withholding.”

  “Well, perhaps I only say it when the time is right,” Navidae scowled. “He should be more patient.”

  “Then, I might be offended,” Sorin murmured. His lips curved into a grin. “That is, if I didn’t know it took you fifty years to get around to saying it once. Let’s hope you’re faster the second time around. I don’t think I can last that long of a wait.”

  Khouri laughed, leaning his chest against Navidae’s. “I’ll help fill the void as you wait,” he offered, giving Sorin an inviting smile. “I love you, Sorin. Navidae… I’m sure he’s at least fond of you as well. Are you happy now?”

  “Happy to be stuck with two brats? Hardly,” the man muttered, but there was no way he could hide the happy smile on his lips or the way his cheeks were tinted pink. “And I guess I’m well and truly stuck with you both now. Apologizing did in fact work,” Sorin mused, crossing his arms behind his head as he laid down and grinned at the ceiling. “Imagine that.”

  Navidae rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, gloat,” he snipped, rubbing his cheek against Khouri’s. “Though I would hardly call what I just underwent an apology. She didn’t change her mind because of that of all things.”

  Khouri combed his fingers through Navidae’s hair, kissing his brow. “Then what did change her mind?” he asked quietly. His stomach churned guilty. “I thought I might have made things worse for you, coming in the way I did.” His cheeks burned. “I was so rude.”