A small landing on the stairs had a wide, sunny window facing the other side of the street, and a few plants were set up on a table in front of it, which Zorvut also carefully avoided. The second set of stairs led to a long hallway with four doors, two on each side.
“Lucky the house has more rooms than I need,” Tom remarked as he led them to the far door on the left. “My room is the first one on the right, and the one across from you’s the bathroom. Next to you is just another spare room, so if you need some extra space, maybe you could store some things there.”
He opened the door to reveal a spacious, largely empty spare bedroom. The bed, though certainly still on the small side for Zorvut, looked far more plush and comfortable than the thin, hard inn beds they had been sleeping in for the past week. It had a window that looked out over the street, and a tall armoire made of a light, warm-toned wood. A writing desk and chair were in the corner, likely just brought in since it did not match the armoire, and on the other side of the armoire was a mirror mounted on the wall. Next to the bed was a bedside table with a small vase and a few fresh flowers. Tom had clearly gone to some effort to make the room comfortable and welcoming for them.
“It’s perfect,” Zorvut said behind him, echoing his own thoughts. He could hear Tom chuckle nervously as he stepped inside.
“Well, it’ll do,” he replied. “I couldn’t do much with the place with just one day’s notice, but I do try to keep things tidy most of the time, anyway. Here, do you need any help with your things?”
They did not really need help, but Taegan could tell Zorvut did not want to tell him no, so he handed over a pack containing some of their camping gear, bedrolls and their tent. The room was feeling decidedly cramped with the three of them in it, though.
“You know, I think I have a storage space downstairs that might be better for this,” Tom said after a moment of them shuffling around each other. “Why don’t I go take this, and once you’re both settled in, Zorvut, we can get started?”
“Getting right to it, then,” Taegan remarked with a raised eyebrow.
“That’s fine,” Zorvut said quickly. “Yes, we shouldn’t be long.”
Taegan carefully unfolded and hung his clothes, but Zorvut was done with his own pack swiftly, clearly eager to get to training.
“Go on,” Taegan said, waving him away with a slight grin as the half-orc hesitated next to him. “I don’t need help. I’ll find you both when I’m done.”
A nervous smile spread across Zorvut’s face, and he knelt down to kiss Taegan, taking him a bit by surprise.
“I love you,” he said softly, his forehead pressed against Taegan’s own. There was a rush of heat between them, the moment unexpectedly tender—after all, he was sitting on the floor with a travel cloak in his hands.
“I love you, too,” he replied breathlessly, starting to lean closer to Zorvut, but the half-orc pulled away with the same expression, though perhaps looking a bit more smug now.
“Don’t be too long,” he said as he got back to his feet and moved toward the door. Taegan shook his head, flustered, but chuckled despite himself. He was glad Zorvut was in such a good mood; it was infectious even without their bond, and it was a relief to see him cheerful after so many days of anxious uncertainty. His own reservations were still a nervous, cold knot deep in his stomach, but he could keep them firmly pushed away for now. Zorvut was happy, he told himself, and for now that was all that mattered. Everything else could be figured out later.
Once his clothes had been hung up to his liking (though many still had an inordinate amount of wrinkles, not that there was much he could do about it without a hot iron), he peeked his head out of the doorway. Neither Zorvut nor Tom were upstairs, though he could very faintly hear their voices. It sounded like they were outdoors, perhaps in a backyard, though he was not sure how large of a space was possible in such narrow, close-together homes like this.
He was in no rush to get downstairs, and instead padded across the creaky wooden floor of the landing to inspect the bathroom. It seemed comfortably spacious, about the same size as their room, with a decent copper tub, and a sink and toilet with running water. The bathroom was a bit plain but the few decorations throughout seemed tasteful enough; a dark navy rug on the floor, and a painting of the ocean hanging on the wall within a glass-pane frame. A small vase with a single yellow flower was perched on the sink in between the man’s toiletries, and below the window hung a plant with trailing vines. He figured Tom liked plants and greenery—there had not been a room in the house without them.
Curiosity overtook him, and he went around the corner to Tom’s own room. This bedroom looked much more lived-in and cozy, with an unmade bed the same size as theirs, a dark wood armoire and a desk stacked high with books and loose parchment. He seemed to have abandoned the white-and-blue motif in his own room; the walls were still white but his bedding was a deep maroon, matching the curtains that were currently open over his own window and the deep mahogany wood of his chest of drawers and his desk. Taegan could also make out part of a bookshelf, which seemed quite full of books and trinkets of all kinds, probably from his extensive travels, and a similar trailing plant with vines hanging from the top shelf down to some middle shelves but none quite long enough to reach the floor.
Taegan only looked in from the doorway, unable to bring himself to fully enter the room even though the door was ajar. From what he could tell, Tomlin Whitmore seemed to be a well-off man, not fabulously wealthy, but certainly comfortable and enjoying his retirement after a successful and profitable career. Nothing about him appeared particularly untoward or heinous, at least that he could tell. Though he still longed for his own home, this was not a terrible alternative for now.
Taegan stepped away from Tom’s bedroom and opened the door of the other spare room, the one they were not inhabiting. It looked like it had been recently reorganized in a hurry, in a more noticeable state of disarray compared to the room he had provided them. It had a similar bed but no armoire; instead, a heavy chest was pushed up to the foot of the bed and a display case stood on the opposite wall. There were some instruments hung up on the walls, lutes and stringed instruments of various sizes. Inside the display case was some kind of flute, though Taegan did not quite recognize it, and next to the display case was a harp. He guessed this was normally Tom’s music room, though he seemed to have repurposed parts of it for now; the chair in their room looked like it matched the wood of the bedframe and the chest in this room.
His curiosity sated for now, he quietly closed the door of the spare room and made his way down the stairs. From the landing of the stairway, he could hear their voices more clearly coming from outdoors, and could just peek into the backyard from the window there. It was as small as he had imagined, not much more than a patio with stone flooring and a few potted plants.
“Well, I haven’t done anything too combat-heavy in some time now,” he could make out Tom saying, his hands on his hips. “But I can definitely show you what I know. And maybe that’ll bring back some of it. It really is like muscle memory, you know.”
Taegan continued down the stairs, no longer able to hear their conversation as he moved away from the window. It took a moment of wandering downstairs to find the door to the backyard, but eventually, he joined them out on the patio as well.
“Everything unpacked?” Zorvut asked as he entered, giving him a bright smile.
“Yes, all good for now,” he replied with a nod.
“Your, um—I mean, Prince Taegan,” Tom stammered, glancing uncertainly between the two. “Did you want to join us? I’d be happy to teach both of you if you’d like...”
“Please, just Taegan,” he replied, waving his hand. “And, no, thank you. I can’t say I have much magical ability myself, so I’m afraid you would only waste your efforts on me. Zorvut is the one with the potential between us.”
“Taegan. All right,” Tom agreed, though his glance took on a bit of curiosity of his own. Elves were known for their magic; while not all elves had the same degree of magical prowess, he supposed he could not expect a human to understand the nuances of the elvish bloodline. “Well, you’re welcome to sit out here with us, although it might get a little cramped. The door opens up all the way if you’d like to still sit inside.”
He opened his mouth to say he had no need, but he met Zorvut’s gaze and felt a faint tug at the bond, wordlessly hoping that he would stay. A smile played at his lips as he glanced away.
“I’ll bring up a chair,” he said, and went to pull one from the kitchen. A trickle of gratitude came from the bond as he did so.
