“I had only really hoped for a week, so...” he offered, but was then perplexed at the look of frustration that passed over Pollux’s face when he said it.
“I don’t know,” the other man sighed, seeming uncharacteristically pouty as he glanced away from Adrissu and folded his arms across his chest. “I... I enjoy having you here.”
“I like being here, too,” Adrissu replied, smiling hesitantly.
“And I...” Pollux started, before trailing off with a frustrated groan. “I’ve been thinking about the... projects I’ve been involved in. With the workshop.”
“I see,” Adrissu said. He waited as Pollux seemed to gather his thoughts, afraid to get his hopes up about what he would say next.
“I thought I could continue to keep you at arm’s length and still work on the weapon,” Pollux continued. “But having you here... I underestimated how strong this is, how strong our connection is. I don’t know if I can... stay so far from you for so long again. But if I have you here, or go with you to Polimnos, I couldn’t... Well. Maybe the weapon is something I shouldn't be working on, regardless.”
“I... I see,” Adrissu repeated faintly. It was exactly what he had hoped to hear, but he felt that if he reacted too strongly or pressed Pollux too hard about it, the elf might change his mind entirely and would never want to see Adrissu again. “I think that sounds reasonable. I did have some... qualms about your work on the, ah, weapon, as you know.”
“I know,” Pollux sighed. “You have made things very complicated for me.”
His tone was cold, but he smirked as he said it, and Adrissu stifled a chuckle. He was getting better at reading the other man’s expressions, stoic as he tried to be.
“I’m not sorry for that, I’m afraid,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss him. Pollux hummed softly in contentment as their lips pressed together.
“I know you’re not,” he said, when Adrissu pulled away. “But. Well.I’msorry, for what it’s worth. Getting involved in all this seemed like a good idea at the time, but in hindsight, it seems... immature.”
“You were immature,” Adrissu agreed, grinning back at the scowl it elicited. “Youwere. Elves aren’t adults until their mid-twenties. Humans might have treated you like an adult when you got involved with this, but you were a child, acting out and rebelling against something you didn’t fully understand.”
Pollux’s scowl deepened, and he glanced away. “You might be right, but you shouldn’t say it like that.”
Adrissu paused, looking him over quickly. Maybe he wasn’t getting as good at reading him as he thought—he wasn’t sure whether it was genuine hurt in his voice or feigned superiority.
“I’m sorry,” he said, deciding to play it safe, regardless. “You’re right. I know life has not treated you kindly, and you thought it was what was best for you at the time. I did have qualms about it—Ido—but I hold none of it against you.”
They had talked a bit about Pollux’s life and his childhood, but it was very little—just enough for Pollux to explain that he did not want to talk about it. But he had been an orphan, from so early an age that he had no memory of his parents, or why he was left here, so far from Aefraya or any elven settlements. He hadn’t even known his true surname, having been toldBlackthornwas a translation of it, but with no knowledge of the elven tongue himself. All things considered, Adrissu thought he was remarkably well-adjusted now.
To his relief, Pollux smiled in response—a tiny smile, but a smile all the same. “I know. Thank you.” Then he sighed and leaned away. “All this to say, I don’t want you to leave, but I realize you can’t stay forever.”
“I can visit any time,” Adrissu replied.
“Yes, but that doesn’t solve the problem of the workshop.”
“The workshop?”
“Well, yes. I can’t exactly shut everything down without an explanation to the people working there.”
“Why not?” Adrissu asked, confused.
“Because—because it’s theirjobs,” Pollux said, visibly flustered at the question. “I can’t just take that away from them.”
“Don’t close it down, then. Just leave it to whoever you trust most to keep it running. Or whoever you think will run it into the ground, depending on what you’re wanting to see happen.”
Pollux stared at him for a long moment, then stammered, “Don’t you want to stop this research? You killed two people for developing aprototypeof something we have working models of today.”
Adrissu sighed, pursing his lips. That was true, but that had also been a separate issue. Now, the weapon was already made—in hindsight, it had already been too late to completely stop something like the Dragonslayer crossbow when he had killed Kipp and Daiana twenty-something years ago. He and Naydruun had only delayed the inevitable. It did not bode well for dragonkind, but he was not very concerned about the well-being of other dragons, either. He was only slightly worried for himself—after all, Adrissu Rolastra was an elf, not a dragon. If he had kept that a secret for centuries so far, he didn’t see why he couldn’t continue to keep it a secret in the future, so he had no reason to truly fear dragon-slaying weapons. He was more anxious about keeping Tyrsun alive and unmaimed; but if the red dragon perished, well, he would find another suitable body for his mate eventually. Pollux was young, so they had plenty of time.
“I am not as invested in it now as I was then,” Adrissu said, choosing his words carefully. “The prospect of it was much more frightening to me then, compared to now. Going forward, as long as Adrissu keeps his head down, and Zamnes isn’t spotted...” He shrugged. “No one would have any reason to target me with such a weapon if I’m not a dragon. And the weapons are too difficult and time-consuming to make at a scale that would be of concern to other dragons, at least for now. To be honest, I’m more worried about what the Aefrayan army is developing—those elves have created some magic weapons I wouldn’t have thought possible. Did I show you the antimagic sword I have?”
“You’re really not concerned about it?” Pollux interrupted, his frown only deepening. Adrissu shrugged.
“I don’t like it, but I’m not going to lose sleep over it either,” he said.
“I—You—” Pollux stammered, for once looking utterly lost for words. “All this time, I’ve had all this guilt—and you don’t even care?”
