Hatam-Ile, 12th of Ninthmoon 3045
The next days dawned just as rainy as the ones before. The fire constantly blazing in the meeting room made the air warm and drowsy, but it was still an improvement in Ren’i’s eyes. The consuls had finally had enough of the dampness that threatened to ruin their maps, and Ared’s offer to relocate their meetings to the elder’s house had been met with more enthusiasm that usual.
”It’s a logical suggestion,” Kha’ar had said. The humid air had worked its magic and his always so carefully trimmed moustaches had started to curl despite waxing. ”We’re going to need a bigger place for our meetings either way once the Meril-An legions and their consuls join us.”
”This abhorrent weather is taking its toll on my accounting,” Qel had pointed out morosely. ”The imperial archives were not meant for these conditions.”
”They call the phenomenom ’the rains’ for a reason, consul Qel. Whatever did you think it meant?”
Privately, Ren’i was quite certain their excitement over the move was less to do with practical logistics than the fact that they were all sick of standing up to their ankles in mud. The unending rain had flooded the plains and no amount of sandbags could keep the floor of the consul tent dry.
Ren’i concealed his yawn and tried to force his eyes to focus. The same old headache was pounding at his temples for the second day in a row. Kha’ar and Vannuil argued with Nemeken and two other akheri elders over the zones where the 9th and 10th legions could be placed on the wastes without disturbing the pathways between Hatam-Ile and Verem. Ren’i couldn’t take in a word and ended up staring at the tapestry on the opposite wall, eyes half-shut.
His head could have been filled with sawdust. He’d been training the volunteers in two shifts the past three days despite the captain’s protests, trying to exhaust himself so thoroughly that he wouldn’t dream at night. The wish had been granted, just not the way he had envisioned. He lay awake in his bunk for hours, rolling around without dozing off regardless of how tired he was. Every inch in his body hurt, and the sheer thought of donning his armour made him feel sick. No one had commented when he’d shown up for the meeting in his civilian uniform and rolled up in one of the many quilts stacked against the walls.
Ared elbowed him in the ribs. ”Hang in there,” he whispered as Vannuil raised her voice. ”I doubt this will take much longer.”
Ren’i let out a vague grunt. He would have given so much for a cup of sweet Kishan hot chocolate.
Ared hesitated. ”Is everything all right?”
He had been subdued in the days following the fight and Ren’i knew he was sincerely sorry. It felt much worse than if he’d pretended nothing had changed, and Ren’i had no energy to reply with more than a nod, though he could tell Ared was trying to make eye contact.
Ren’i tangled the quilt more firmly around himself and spent the rest of the meeting in stupour, telling the consuls, elders, and the stupid war to go fuck themselves in his mind.
Night had begun to fall. The rumbling of thunder was closer all the time, yet the square was still bustling as merchants set up their stalls. A selection of longbows and shortbows alongside barrelfuls of arrows had appeared close to the targets, all carefully shielded from the rain. Sitting mats had been brought on the seats winding around the square, and the overhangs above glowed in the faint lantern light around which moths were buzzing.
”Over here, over here, don’t leave them on the walkways,” one of the sellers yelled at their assistants.
”Kids! Watch where you’re running!”
Hawk stepped hastily aside as a pair of small children swished between him and Nightsong, chasing one another giggling and screaming. He could barely see where he was going. The latest crate Nightsong had entrusted to him was bursting with who knew what ornaments and knick-knacks, effectively blocking his vision. He supposed he ought to have been happy that no one could see his face behind the mountain of trash, but it didn’t make him feel better whatsoever; he’d been exceptionally tall even as a child, and there weren’t many in Hatam-Ile who didn’t recognise him simply from his height.
The green festival costume attracted its fair share of curious glances and Hawk was forced to pretend he didn’t notice them. Upon waking in the afternoon he’d found his old clothes had mysteriously vanished without a trace, and there had been no other option left but to dress up in the garb Nightsong had chosen for him.
”Set it down by that corner, they’ll just get wet on the ground,” Nightsong said in passing when Hawk got closer. She pulled out a bolt of cloth from the crate and turned towards a senior citizen fuzzing in front of the altar. ”How about we put this one on top? I seem to recall last year’s arrangement had…”
Hawk couldn’t be bothered to listen. A little ways away Silverbrook was sitting on Dewdrop’s shoulders, checking the fastenings of the canopy affixed over the altar while the rain continued its drumming against the canvas. Silverbrook glanced over her shoulder and waved at him.
”Hawk, could you fasten the cords on the other side? They’re too loose.”
Hawk obeyed. Silverbrook, Nightsong and their friends had been tossing him around from one task to another all day long, fully enjoying the extra pair of hands at their disposal, and Hawk was longing for the peace and quiet of his cottage. There was no escaping the commotion. People were packed on the streets though there was still a couple of days until the festival.
The clamour paused momentarily as the doors of the elder’s house opened. Hatam-Ileans had already grown accustomed to seeing Kishan soldiers traversing between the city and the camp at regular intervals, but the gleaming half-plate armours and cloaks donned by the consuls and the Guard of Honour still turned every nearby head as they passed. Vannuil was almost a head taller than the other demons, and the hollow echo of her boots silenced the square. Parents pulled their children aside as the consul marched away from them, her two colleagues following suit.
Hawk swallowed, the lump in his throat growing in size when a headful of bright red hair materialised, surrounded by soldiers. Hawk felt Ren’i’s presence before even seeing him. Ren’i had stopped to exchange words with captain Hamr, who saluted his prince by slamming a fist against his chest. They disappeared from sight as the akheri elders poured out of the house one by one. Once the crowd thinned Ren’i was standing in front of the house alone.
He felt Hawk’s presence as clearly as Hawk felt his, finding him in the crowd without even having to search. Hawk froze on the spot when their eyes met.
It was as if the past days had never happened. All the words Hawk had been formulating in his head were as dust in the wind, and he made his decision right there and then. He hadn’t been able to do it before, not even in the silence of the night accompanied only by his thoughts, but he knew what needed to be done as soon as he saw Ren’i.
Others were forced to rush out of the way as he pushed through the crowd. He was aware of the curses thrown after him when he elbowed aside a merchant and their helpers without a word of warning, but he did not stop, nor did he apologise. Hawk only had eyes for Ren’i, not daring to look away for a moment, fearing he would vanish the second Hawk dared to blink.
Hawk came to a halt in front of him. He felt his hands balling into fists on their own, which did nothing to prevent them from shaking. Neither of them said anything for a while.
Ren’i felt the same as he had three months ago when they had stepped in the Circle of Nine Moons and seen one another as enemies, strangers. The look on Hawk’s face was just as withdrawn, his eyes hard as flintstone as they had been when they had met for the first time.
Ren’i gathered himself mentally, lifted his chin and broke the silence by saying, ”I had hoped I’d get a chance to speak with you somewhere with less curious ears listening, but no matter. I have something to say.”
”So do I,” Hawk responded.
Ren’i made a vague hand gesture. ”How about we step aside?”
They found a quiet spot at a street corner, away from the eyes and ears of the citizens crowding the square. Ren’i cleared his throat and felt nauseated all of sudden. His stomach seemed to have tangled itself on a painful knot that tightened every time his and Hawk’s eyes met.
”I’ll keep this short and spare us both any unnecessary awkwardness.” Ren’i pressed both palms against his chest and bowed deeply. He felt his whole body resisting the movement. ”You have made your feelings quite understood and I respect that, on a Kishan’s honour. I will leave you be from now on.”
His words were followed by a peal of thunder, emphasised by the approaching roar of rain. Hawk stared at him, stupefied, as he straightened.
”That’s what I wanted to talk about, actually,” Hawk started, but Ren’i interrupted him with one withering look.
”We have nothing left to talk about,” he said coolly. ”Enjoy the rest of your life.”
He didn’t get the chance to turn around before Hawk had stepped in front of him and blocked his way.
”You don’t know what I was planning to say.”
”What does it matter? You’ve made your opinion perfectly clear.”
”Just listen!”
Ren’i drew himself up to his full height, sparks practically shooting out of his eyes, and Hawk realised he’d never seen him so angry before. You could feel the power radiating from him even without magic. The air felt heavy with it, as though anticipating a lightning strike, but Hawk met his gaze stubbornly without backing down an inch.
”You don’t order me around!” Ren’i snarled. ”Who the hell do you think you are?”
”I could ask you the same. Or sir crown prince now too important to listen to the words of a common akheri?” Hawk threw back at him and cursed himself at once.
”I’ve listened enough already!” For a moment Ren’i looked like he wanted to punch him. ”I have my pride too! Get out of the way or else—”
”Or else what?”
Whatever Ren’i had been about to say was drowned out by the rushing of rain as the skies opened and the drizzle that had been going on all afternoon turned into a downpour. Laughter and shrieks emanated from the square as people ran for the shelter of their houses and the overhangs. They stared at each other through the curtain of rain with stunned looks on their faces. Ren’i saw Hawk open his mouth and say something, but could not make out the words.
”What?” Ren’i shouted, hardly even hearing his own voice. Hawk tried again, louder, but Ren’i just shook his head. ”I can’t hear you!”
Hawk rolled his eyes and grabbed Ren’i by the wrist. ”Whatever. Come with me.”
”What?” Ren’i repeated, in vain. Hawk turned at his heels and dragged him along, and Ren’i no longer had the energy to resist him. The cold rain had washed away the urge to fight, and the days of exhaustion finally won.
They were both soaked to the bone once they reached the cottage. Lightning illuminated the sky every now and then, and Ren’i shivered despite himself as he felt it electrifying the air. The storm was rolling over the desert fast; there weren’t many seconds between the flashes and the rumbling. It would be over them in minutes. He’d witnessed many thunderstorms in Hol Saro, though always from the shelter of the palace walls. At the mercy of the wastes he felt small and defenseless, and he did not hide his relief when Hawk unlocked the door and let them in. Ren’i mopped the wet hair off his face, feeling the cold water running down his back.
Hawk latched the door after them. He stole one look at Ren’i’s drenched appearance and said, ”wait here.”
He pulled off his boots and vanished into another room.
Ren’i had no clue how he could see where was going. The cottage was pitch dark, the only source of light coming from the occasional flashes of thunder.
The creaking of floorboards barely carried over the sounds of rain, and Ren’i jolted when Hawk reappeared from the darkness, illuminated by lightning. He handed Ren’i a towel.
”Here.”
Ren’i accepted it with some confusion. He didn’t know what to do with himself for a second. ”Oh. Well. Thanks.”
Hawk had wrapped a towel around his own shoulders. Water was still dripping from his plait as he padded across the room lightly and knelt in front of the hearth. It took him a moment before he could get a fire going.
The sudden warmth of the flames came as a relief. In their pale light Ren’i could make out more of the room than just outlines. The cottage was smaller and simpler than what it looked like on the outside. The hearth was sunken to the floor in the middle of the room in akheri fashion. To the right of the door was a kitchenette – no matter how you looked at it there was no calling it a proper kitchen – where a table and two stools had been squeezed in front of a narrow window.
Ren’i avoided Hawk’s gaze as he dried himself off, and for a time the only sounds in the room were the crackling of damp wood and the constant rumble of the storm. Hawk pulled off the wet shirt and hung it to dry on the back of a chair. He tried to squeeze the worst of the water off his braid.
”Well, out with it since you dragged me all the way in here,” Ren’i said, trying not to see the light dancing on the other man’s naked skin. ”What did you want to say?”
Hawk stepped closer, an odd look on his face. Ren’i held his breath when they were face to face, so painfully close that Ren’i could almost feel Hawk’s breath against his face.
Name of the Eight gods, the past days apart or the sleepless nights hadn’t helped at all. The mere force of his presence was intoxicating and made Ren’i’s heart beat heavier.
”Ren’i.” Hawk leaned closer. His voice was hardly more than a whisper when he said, ”may I touch you?”
Ren’i stared at him in silence. The words got stuck somewhere in his throat. In the darkness of the cabin Hawk’s eyes were as pitch black as the starless nightsky and just as unknowable, and Ren’i could not take his eyes off them however he tried. Ren’i managed to force himself to nod. Hawk’s skin was cool against his own. He stroked Ren’i’s cheek slowly, almost as though looking for something, and Ren’i could feel himself trembling all over.
Oh, how he longed. The Eight knew that he longed.
”I’m ready for this,” Hawk said, searching for his words. ”If we’re both here out of our own free will. If you still want me.”
”What?”
Hawk swallowed, the laryngeal prominence bobbing up and down in his throat. He looked much younger than his years suddenly, and there wasn’t a hint of that self-confidence in his eyes with which he usually carried himself. ”I lied to you. I don’t care if we’re confessed or not. I want you.”
Ren’i felt his lips moving, but couldn’t get a single word out of his parched mouth.
One heartbeat, then another, a third, until he at last wound his arms around Hawk and pulled him against himself clumsily. Who kissed whom first he did not know. The distance between them melted away until their bodies were aflush, lips moving against the other’s. Hawk thought of nothing else but the mouth pressing feverishly against his own and sending his mind spiralling. The weight of Ren’i’s arms around him pushed the final dregs of doubt off his mind for good.
He was an idiot. This, this was what he’d tried to deny himself?
”I’m sorry,” he whispered against Ren’i’s mouth. ”Forgive me.”
Ren’i said nothing. He pressed his forehead against Hawk’s, feeling him leaning his whole weight against Ren’i. For the longest of times they simply held each other, breath easing while the storm sent wind howling in the corners of the cabin.
”Will you stay the night?” Hawk asked, brushing wet hair behind Ren’i’s ear.
Ren’i could not stop himself from laughing. ”You’re bitterly mistaken if you think I’m wading back to the camp in this weather.”
Hawk smiled all the way to his eyes, and Ren’i felt the blood in his veins singing at the sight of it. Hawk rubbed Ren’i’s icy arms. ”You’re freezing. Let’s go warm up.”
He found a dry change of clothes for Ren’i and hung their wet garments to dry in the backroom. Ren’i put on a sleeveless top and loose, akheri-style knee-length trousers while Hawk dug out an extra pillow for him from one of the dresser drawers.
The blazing fire painted restless shadows on the walls even as the rain still beat against the roof. The chill couldn’t reach beneath the furs of the berth, and little by little Ren’i felt himself thawing. Regardless of what Hawk had claimed he found the nest-like berth comfortable and roomy, and the thick pelts were so soft you could just sink straight into them.
Though they’d grown accustomed to closeness during those long weeks in Liqaria, there was something different, even exciting, about it this time. Ren’i felt his skin tingling every time they so much as brushed against each other, felt shivers going down his spine though Hawk’s hands were warm from the fire and the furs. They spent many long moments face to face, fingers entangled, exchanging slow, languid kisses carefully, as though exploring the limits of their newfound familiarity. Ren’i was not inexperienced, not in the least, but something in Hawk’s hands and lips, in his sheer proximity, made him feel utterly bare and disarmed. Perhaps it should have terrified him, but there was no fear, not anymore. It felt as natural as breathing, and he wanted it to badly that he wasn’t sure he’d ever have his fill.
”I want to apologise to you,” Hawk said quietly as they lay in each other’s arms, Ren’i’s breath tickling the top of his head. ”What I said back then—”
”We don’t need to talk about it anymore.”
”Yes, we do.” Hawk pressed a single warm kiss against Ren’i’s chin. ”I said horrible things. I didn’t mean them.”
”I know.”
”I regretted them immediately. I didn’t really want to hurt you. I just didn’t know how… I couldn’t…”
The words caught in his throat. Hawk’s lips moved as he tried arranging his thoughts into coherent sentences, but nothing came of it. There were far too many words, yet too few. Often at the same time. Accursed words escaped him whenever he needed them most; it had always been that way, as long as he could remember. He let out a frustrated groan.
”Fuck’s sake,” Hawk mumbled. ”I can’t even apologise properly.”
”Shh. You don’t have to keep apologising. Let’s just leave it.” Ren’i stroked at his cheek and Hawk sighed deeply, eyes closing for a second. It smoothed out the wrinkle that had formed between his brows, which appeared whenever he was thinking. ”I was scared too, you know.”
”What about?”
”That you wouldn’t feel the same. That I’d just give you another reason to hate me.”
”Ren’i, listen…”
”Yes?”
Hawk swallowed, trying to force down the lump in his throat without success. Ren’i just caressed his hair without trying to pressure him. ”I want us to be here because we chose it ourselves, and not because some force somewhere has decreed it so.”
The dimples in Ren’i’s cheeks deepened when he looked Hawk in the eyes. ”Well, I think we’ve reached a mutual understanding now that we both want this, haven’t we?”
Hawk pulled him tightly against himself and said nothing more.
For a long time they lay there without speaking, simply holding each other, watching one another with their eyes heavy with sleep. The fire reflected from Hawk’s bronze eyes and set them aglow. He caressed Ren’i’s cheek with slow, soft strokes, until Ren’i shut his eyes and gave in to the exhaustion.
The clothes he’d borrowed from Hawk were comfortably warm on his skin, Hawk’s safe, familiar heat by his side making him feel drowsy. He was fast asleep within minutes, Hawk’s peaceful breathing as his lullaby.