A DRINK BEFORE BATTLE (MxM)

No one was in the mood to overnight in town. They returned to the inn only to change their clothes, then Yeresym and Thelan transported everyone back to camp. Soft rain began to fall as they arrived. Dark clouds gathered overhead, edged in silver halos from the full moon behind them, warning that the rain might not remain so gentle. They all spent the next hour inspecting the camp, battening down, tightening ropes, getting goods and equipment under cover.

Sevei finally gave his own tent a last lookover, then went inside to shed his wet clothes and towel himself dry. He threw on a pair of light trousers and climbed into his cold bed, where he lay in the dark for some time mulling over the day’s events. The rain began to pick up, tapping rhythmically on the canvas of his tent and lulling him into a light doze. Sevei was grateful for it. If Gendaran Urskatha might think of pulling any kind of stunt, the weather should deter him, at least for tonight.

Just as his drowsy thoughts meandered to Kyrzhan, and whether Prince Rendrick had gone to visit him after dinner... and what they could be doing right now... a breeze blew across his face, and his scalp tingled with a static charge in the air. He opened his eyes to see a hulking shadow standing at his bedside. Sevei smiled.

“Yeresym?”

He only jumped a little bit when the candle on the table beside the bed lit itself. Yeresym stood looking down at him with an unsettled expression.

“You said... I could come over if...”

“Yes!” Sevei’s smile grew. He quickly scuttled over in bed, patting the mattress under the blankets. “Of course! Come on in.”

“I’m not here for... anything...” Yeresym said anxiously.

Sevei sighed.

“Do you think that’s all I want you for?” he replied gently. “You don’t have to be here for anything. If you just need a friend, I can behave.” He lifted the blankets. “Hurry and get in. It’s cold.”

The blankets slid off of Sevei’s bare upper body as he pushed one of his pillows over, and Yeresym froze. His lips opened, then closed again into a firm line. “I can see why you’re cold,” he muttered reproachfully.

Sevei chuckled. “I’m just comfortable this way, but there’s a tunic on the chair behind you. Toss it over and I’ll put it on.”

Yeresym turned to eye the garment in question, then looked back at Sevei, who had covered himself again.

“You don’t have to,” he ceded, quickly getting into bed. He lay on his back with his arms around his waist, wrapping himself up into a tidy and defensive package.

Sevei moved further away, giving him a bit more space. “Can you get the light?” he asked.

The blankets at Yeresym’s waist jumped, and the candle went out.

“You are quite handy to have around,” Sevei laughed. He settled his body down into the padding of the mattress, then stared into the darkness with a smile on his lips. Through the patter of rain, he listened to Yeresym’s breathing – steady, but interspersed with soft, barely concealed sighs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

“No.”

Sevei nodded slowly. “Get some good rest, then,” he said. “I suspect we’ll need it for the days ahead.”

He closed his eyes and tried to center himself as his mind and body began a quiet war with each other. It wasn’t hard to tell what had Yeresym so anxious that he’d come over here. Sevei wasn’t pleased with the night’s events either. They had a plan that depended on all the pieces falling together in perfect order, and the fog of war would provide enough uncertainty without some entitled nobleman adding another obstacle.

But Yeresym’s warmth began to seep through the blankets, even across the gap between them. It was so enticing. Sevei took a slow, deep breath and released it soundlessly. Be good, he admonished the lower half of his body as he adjusted the position of his legs and tried to turn his thoughts back to the plan and all its variables.

“I really hate him,” Yeresym suddenly whispered.

Sevei turned his head to peer at Yeresym’s shadowy profile against the darkness.

“Your brother?” he guessed. “Well, I kind of hate him too. Has he always been like that?”

“Mm,” Yeresym grunted. “He thinks that because he’s the eldest, and the Heir, the rest of us were born to be his servants. Then his attitude flowed right down the line, every one of my siblings treating anyone younger the same way.”

“You’re number six, right?” Sevei commiserated. “That couldn’t have been easy.”

Yeresym only sighed heavily, but didn’t answer.

“And there are two younger than you?” Sevei asked. Now that he’d got Yeresym talking, he wasn’t about to let the conversation drop. “Did you pass the tradition on to them?”

“No...” Yeresym answered tentatively. “But I could have been better. I was away to the Academy before either of them could recognize me, then I mostly kept to myself when I was home.”

“You said one of them is an Alchemist too?”

“Mm. She’s alright. At least she and I have things to talk about when we meet.”

“Your brother doesn’t seem impressed with Alchemists.”

“Well, he’s an asshole, isn’t he?” Yeresym spat.

Sevei laughed. He felt Yeresym beginning to relax next to him, and a warm sense of satisfaction spread through his heart.

“Why is he so fixated on Meira?”

Yeresym blew out a harsh breath. “His wife left him. Took their two youngest children back to her family estate and started divorce proceedings. That’s when he started showing interest in Meira. He was always a philanderer, just never at home – until now.”

Sevei made a sound of disgust, unsure what to say to that.

Yeresym’s hair rustled across the pillow as he turned his head toward Sevei. “Do you have any siblings?” he asked.

Sevei’s heart sank, and his breath caught in his throat. He was silent for a long moment.

“I did,” he finally said, his voice very quiet. “A younger brother. He died of a fever when he was ten... when I was twelve.”

“I’m sorry...” Yeresym said. He turned fully onto his side and pushed a hand under his pillow to cradle his head.

“Don’t be,” Sevei said, smiling even as memories both sad and sweet floated up out of his heart. He chuckled lightly. “Kyri says that’s when I became me. I was supposed to protect my little brother, but there was nothing I could do about that. I guess now I tend to impose my protection on anyone who’ll stand for it.”

He heard a whisper of laughter from Yeresym.

“So, if we have to meet your brother again,” Sevei said sternly, “let me do the hitting.”

“No,” Yeresym protested. “You could be thrown in prison for it. I’d just get a scolding from my parents. I’m used to that.”

“Should I have let you hit him, then?”

Yeresym sighed. “No. You were right. Disrupting diplomacy could get me more than a scolding. So, thanks again.”

In the dark, Sevei’s lips turned up into a smile that then turned into a yawn.

“Any time,” he laughed. “For you... anything, any time.”