“I love you,” he gasped breathlessly against Korik’s lips, holding his head between both hands. “I don’t know how it happened. But I love you.”
Korik held him as they kissed, the elf strong and warm in his arms. It felt silly to have ever doubted that Varen felt the same, now. Varen clung to him desperately, passionately, as if he were just as afraid as Korik that this was a dream. That, more than anything else, convinced Korik that Varen had meant it when he had apologized.
When they finally parted, Varen’s eyes were still bright and glassy, and his cheeks were a warm pink as he settled back in his seat, looking up at Korik with a wide smile.
“If I go with you to see your sister in Aefraya,” Korik asked softly, “Will you come with me to the mountain clan?”
“Yes,” Varen replied immediately, without hesitation.
“It will not be like Drol Kuggradh,” Korik said, despite the happiness now tentatively bubbling in his chest. “We will travel nearly every day. Are you sure?”
“It was fun to travel with you,” Varen replied, still grinning.
“But...” Korik said, struggling to put into words the one worry he still had. “If we travel with them, we might not have access to the same herbs and medicines I have access to here. Things that will... That is, for your—your heats.”
He felt embarrassed to even say it, but Varen looked completely unfazed. “So if you were to go into heat while we were traveling, and we know orcs and elves can breed—I don’t know how you feel about that. About children, much less children with—with me. If that changes your mind...”
To his surprise, Varen laughed. Helaughed, his eyes warm and full of fondness.
“You delivered the princess, didn’t you?” he replied, his voice full of adoration. “If the kings can trust you with their child, I can most certainly trust you with ours.”
Ours. For a moment, Korik couldn’t think of anything but that. A child between him and Varen—he had never thought he might have children, but now he had spoken it into existence, and it consumed his thoughts. A half-elf, half-orc child with his eyes and Varen’s bright, mischievous smile. How could he have ever wanted anything else?
“You’re sure?” he asked softly, even though Varen’s response had convinced him so effortlessly.
“I’m sure,” Varen said. “And, well, that’s far in the future. That feels like a conversation for another day. But, yes, Korik—that isn’t going to deter me. I want to be with you, no matter where that is.”
Korik smiled—hesitantly at first, then with more relief and certainty as Varen returned the grin. Had he ever smiled so freely? It felt as if a great weight had been lifted off him; like a window had been opened, and he was finally blinking in the light and breathing in fresh air.
“Then I will go with you to Aefraya,” he said softly, holding Varen’s hands again in his own. “We’ll meet your sister and her child. And then afterward, we can go back to the mountains and find the clan that invited me. And if they don’t welcome you, too, then we will just wander on our own. We could even explore Aefraya. Anywhere.”
“Anywhere sounds good,” Varen replied with a chuckle. “As long as we’re together.”
“Together,” Korik repeated, nodding. That was the most important part. “Together.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Korik
FourMonthsLater
When the snows began to melt, and green grass began pushing its way up through the ground, Korik and Varen left Drol Kuggradh. Their trip to Aefraya was easy and fast. Now that winter was over, and the first signs of spring had begun, the roads were busy with merchants and other travelers.
When they departed, they were both entirely free. Korik’s shop was packed up and closed down: everything he would bring with them was either carried on his back, or in one of the many packs loaded up on their mule. Varen had arranged his retirement and was released from duty just a week before they planned to leave, using his newfound free time to help prepare for their imminent journey. Korik found it strange to see his home empty, knowing he would likely never return. Strange, but it hadn’t exactly been sad, either.
Varen had beenveryhappy to be on their way. They had received a letter just before his retirement that Enriel had delivered a son; the missive reported that both she and the baby were healthy and were looking forward to seeing him soon. He’d written back eagerly that he would be leaving soon with Korik, and hopefully they should arrive before the child was a month old.
The miles went by quickly, each of them on horseback and the mule tethered to Varen’s gelding. Varen was just as chatty, but this time his voice constantly had a warm, fond tone as he spoke, and Korik didn’t shy away from adding to the conversation. They talked and told stories, and Varen even sang a few marching songs—the elf could barely hold a tune, which once might have irritated Korik, but now only amused him endlessly.
He’d never thought that he could be so happy on the road with Varen, but he’d given up trying to make sense of it all.
Roz was usually curled up atop the packs on the mule, or sometimes perched on Korik’s shoulder, or in his tunic the way he’d used to carry K’lir. The razorfang kit was now nearly twice the size of Roz, much too large for Korik to easily carry. Luckily, he was content to follow on foot—sometimes dashing off the path to climb a tree or catch prey, but always returning when Korik called him.
They passed by Castle Aefraya and continued south, all the way to Varen’s hometown. It was a village nestled along a river, with several rice fields and a handful of other farms on the outskirts. Varen pointed out every farmhouse and building as they made their way down the village’s main road, and they were stopped often to greet villagers who recognized Varen, or who were curious about Korik.
Varen’s family cottage was at the far end of the village, where they grew rice and raised livestock. The cottage was made of stone with a thatched roof and glass-paned windows; a small barn sat a little ways behind it, and a wooden fence surrounded the property. Korik could hear the clucking of chickens and the bleating of goats in the fenced-off yard.
The door to the cottage swung open as they approached, revealing Enriel beaming at them. With one arm she waved; in the other, she cradled a bundled-up baby.
