Fear still radiated from the bond despite his words. Zorvut bit his lip, taking in a deep, slow breath before speaking again. “Let me get you untied.”
The poor elf’s wrists were bound tightly together, but with some careful placement Zorvut ripped the chain apart below where it was knotted and tangled, breaking his hands free. Before either could even say anything, though, Taegan lifted his freed hands and wrapped his arms around Zorvut’s torso, pressing his face into his chest despite the blood and sweat smeared across his body.
“I thought—I thought—” Taegan stammered, his voice suddenly breaking with emotion. “He was going to kill you, Zorvut.”
Gingerly, Zorvut returned the embrace, holding his husband close to him and closing his eyes. Everything had been worth it for this sensation, the familiar closeness, the way the world seemed to slide back into tune when they were together.
“I know,” he replied softly. “But I wouldn’t let him.”
“I missed you,” Taegan continued, his voice muffled against Zorvut’s skin. “I missed you so much.”
“I know,” Zorvut said, his own voice starting to quiver. He had to hold it together while they were surrounded, but it was proving to be a harder task than he thought. Suddenly feeling painfully aware of so many eyes still on him, he stood up, helping Taegan stumble to his feet before carefully hugging him again. “I missed you, too.”
“Your mother!” Taegan gasped suddenly, pulling back just enough to look up into Zorvut’s eyes. His face was glistening and smeared with a mix of tears and blood and sweat, likely just as much of his own as Zorvut’s. “She’s here. She was kept in the prison across from me, but… I don’t know where she is now. I think she may still be in Drol Kuggradh.”
Zorvut hesitated. Something in his heart ached at the words, but he could not quite place the feeling it elicited in him. Happiness, uncertainty, repulsion, somehow a mix of each all at once?
“You,” he said in orcish, looking toward the orc standing nearest to him who snapped to attention with an uncertain expression. “Bring me Naydi Bonebreaker from the prison, or wherever she is. Alive.”
“Y-Yes,” the other orc stammered, nodding quickly before striding away, leaving his weapon behind.
“Was she hurt?” Zorvut asked, looking back to Taegan.
“Well, yes” Taegan said, glancing over the way the guard had gone. “She… We had tried to escape, but they caught her, and broke her arm and hauled her away.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked, suddenly pushing Taegan back to look more closely at him. Other than the burn and bloody nose, he looked alright, but… “Did they hurt you at all?”
Taegan grimaced, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. Hrul threatened me a bit, but… Mostly I’m just hungry.” He grinned weakly, as if trying to laugh but unable to produce the sound. “You’re the one who’s hurt. Look at you.” He touched Zorvut’s arm lightly where it was cut open, the gash sticky with drying blood. He could feel the tightness in Taegan’s chest as if it were his own, the relief and despair welling up all at once. “Zorvut, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you had to do all this for me. Back in Naimere, I should have just listened to you, I shouldn’t have been out in the taverns and talking to people… This is my fault.”
“No,” Zorvut snapped, grabbing Taegan’s hand on his arm quickly. The elf looked up at him, startled, tears glistening in his eyes but not quite falling. “No, don’t say that. This wasn’t your fault. It was—” He scowled at the thought, suddenly looking around. “Kelvhan—where is he?”
“Dead,” Taegan answered, and Zorvut raised an eyebrow. “Hrul killed him pretty much the moment we arrived. I don’t think he ever planned to uphold whatever bargain they had struck… And I think Kelvhan would have seen that if he wasn’t so blinded by wanting revenge.”
Zorvut frowned, but nodded slowly. One less thing for him to worry about, he supposed, though it should not surprise him to hear that Hrul had turned against the only elf that would want to work with him. He couldn’t pretend to understand what must have been going through either of their heads.
“I’m just relieved you’re safe,” he said softly once the information had sunk in. “I know it seems silly, since I know I would have felt it, but the whole time I was afraid I… I might come here to find you dead. I don’t know what I would have done.”
“He wanted you to have to watch,” Taegan said softly, darkly. His eyes slipped away from Zorvut’s gaze, focusing down on the burnt, dead orc on the ground for a long moment. “He said he would kill me in front of you, then kill you.”
“He’s dead now,” Zorvut said, and though he felt some guilt as he said it, now it was not nearly as much as he might have expected to feel. “We don’t have to worry about this ever again.”
“Zorvut!” a voice called out in orcish, and Zorvut looked up to see the orc he had sent off had returned, Naydi following him, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, the other arm bandaged and cradled close to her body.
She looked just as dirty and disheveled as Taegan, but with an emaciated thinness about her face that had not quite sunk into Taegan’s, and one of her tusks was missing. The remnants of bruising and what looked like a black eye were still visible on her face. Her thin frame indicated just how long she must have been imprisoned, and it panged him with guilt to see his mother in such a state.
“Zorvut?” she asked hesitantly, glancing around. When her eyes found the severed head of Hrul on the ground behind him, the dead body further beyond, she stopped in her tracks and stared, motionless.
“Mother,” he said slowly in orcish, stepping closer to her—Taegan followed, and Zorvut could feel his reluctance to be any further from him than absolutely necessary. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive.”
“You killed him,” she whispered, her eyes still locked on the corpse behind them. Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, she looked back over at him, her brows furrowed. “It was you, right?”
“Yes,” he said with a nod, and understanding dawned in her eyes. “I’m freeing you from whatever sentence or judgment he passed on you. I will do what I can to keep you safe here, but… If you want to leave, I won’t stop you, and I’ll make sure you have enough to get started somewhere else.”
Her mouth tensed into a hard line around her tusk, her conflicted emotions apparent on her face. That was understandable to him—looking down at her elicited more than a few mixed feelings in Zorvut as well. Part of him despaired at the thought of sending her away, a childlike instinct wanting the comfort of his mother near him. But another part of him burned with anger toward her, how she had lied his whole life, had endangered both his and Taegan’s safety. She had let him enter the peace treaty knowing full well that if anyone discovered her secret it could topple both nations back into war, and that was exactly what had happened. While she could not have known how her decision would have affected things when it occurred, part of him still wanted to lay the blame at her feet, regardless of how deserving she was.
“I’ll go,” she said softly after considering for a moment. “I know there’s no place for me here. I’ll go.”
“Let me give you this, then,” Zorvut sighed, not surprised at her choice. From his belt he pulled his coin purse, handing her the whole pouch. He wasn’t sure exactly how much was in it, but it would be more than enough for her to travel anywhere in the orcish territories and find a comfortable place to lay low for now, maybe forever. He could feel Taegan’s eyes on him, curious but unsure of the meaning of their exchange. “It’s for you. You shouldn’t tell anyone who you are, and you should never come back here.”
