“No, I’m alright,” he sighed, trying to settle. “I just don’t feel tired.”
Krujha offered him a small smile. “You have slept a lot lately.”
Alwyn rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stifle a smirk in return. Without the anxiety of their mission looming over them, being with Krujha felt less fraught, somehow, as if he could finally relax and simply talk to him as a friend.
“You should still try and get plenty of rest, though,” Krujha continued. “The more you rest, the faster you’ll heal.”
“I’m sure I’ll fall asleep eventually,” Alwyn grumbled, glancing sidelong at the orc. “But... maybe we can just talk until then. To keep my mind off things.”
Krujha’s smile softened. “Sure. What did you want to talk about?”
Alwyn considered it. Part of him wanted to talk about something low-stakes and meaningless, but it felt like they were far beyond that now.
“What will you do when we get to Aefraya?” he asked quietly. Krujha was silent for a bit, thinking.
“Well,” he finally said. “I want to make sure you’re alright, of course. I’ll stay with you at the healer for as long as you need.”
“I...” Alwyn started, the words catching in his throat. Maybe it was the discomfort he was in, or the way his head still felt a little fuzzy, but his emotions were far closer to the surface than he was used to. More than that, hewantedto speak his worries aloud to Krujha. It was a strange sensation, wanting to share his thoughts when he had gone so long without a friend or confidant. “I think I’m... nervous about arriving in Aefraya.”
He could feel Krujha’s eyes on him, but kept his own gaze down at his lap, where his bandaged hands rested atop the blanket bundled around him. “Why is that?”
Alwyn let out a sharp huff of breath, not quite a laugh. “A lot of reasons. I think whatever happened really, well, damaged my magic—and I don’t know if it can be fixed. And that might mean I can’t... be part of my Order any longer. I don’t know how Master Tessarion will react.”
“Alwyn,” Krujha said, his voice firm. “You did everything he asked. If they kick you out over something that happened to youbecauseof their orders, then that doesn’t seem like a group worth following to me.”
Alwyn was silent, trying to force down the tears that had blurred his vision. He couldn’t bring himself to say as much, but part of him agreed with Krujha. It certainly didn’t feel fair for him to be discarded when he’d done everything he could to follow the command Tessarion had given him. Of course, the Order was not meant to be fair. They had a job to do, and if Alwyn could no longer do his job, then he no longer had a place in the Order.
He didn’t know what might happen to him. He couldn’t think of anyone who had ever left the Order, or even heard of such an occurrence.
It would depend on what Tessarion decided, ultimately. He had spent so long vying for the Mage Princeps’ favor—that had to be worth something, didn’t it? He had been his star pupil, so surely a place could be found for him, even if he could no longer serve as an assassin in the field.
“I hope you’ll consider leaving this Order either way,” Krujha finally added, his voice soft. “I think you could do so much more with your time and energy than follow a man who doesn’t seem to value you. I hope you could see it as an opportunity to explore what you really want to do, not just what you’ve been told.”
Alwyn managed a shaky smile. “I haven’t really had time to give much thought to your question about that… from before.”
“I know,” Krujha said, a slight chuckle finally returning to his voice. “Me, too. Though I’ve been thinking about it more as we’ve traveled. It feels like I’ve spent my whole life working toward this, but it was so hard to imagine a world where the war was truly over. I still can’t quite wrap my mind around what would happen after. I don’t know what I want to do now.”
“I don’t know what I want to do, either,” Alwyn murmured. “I don’t know what Icando at this point.”
“I’d like to find out, though,” Krujha said. He leaned closer to Alwyn and, very carefully, wrapped one arm around hisshoulder. Alwyn felt heat rising in his face. It was an innocent gesture, considering how they had been far more intimate in the past weeks; but without the urgency of the mission fueling his feelings, this felt much softer, much more tender. His eyes darted up to meet Krujha’s, finding the golden orbs bright in the flickering firelight, as sincere as he had ever seen them. “Maybe we could find out what it is we want to do together.”
Alwyn’s eyes filled with tears all over again, this time spilling over. “I’d like that,” he said, his voice thick as he turned away, wiping at his face with his bandaged wrists.
“Little spitfire,” Krujha murmured, tugging him closer. “Don’t cry. I would never make you go through any of this alone. I promise.”
Alwyn nodded, the tears still rolling down his cheeks. It was the answer to a question he’d been too afraid to even think to ask.
Krujha leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, making Alwyn’s heart leap up into his throat. For as long as they’d been sleeping together, they had never kissed—but now he wanted to. Now he wanted to let go of the mask he’d been clinging to all this time—the man he thought he’d been, cold and independent, with no need for anyone but himself. Now he wanted to let himself be soft and vulnerable, the way he had never allowed himself to be before.
“Krujha,” he pleaded, as the orc pulled away. He raised one hand, unable to quite cup Krujha’s cheek with the bandages in the way. Krujha let his face be guided down anyway until they were nose to nose. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, and Krujha met him halfway, pressing their lips together. His tusks pressed into the sides of his mouth until they found the right angle—then their mouths slotted together perfectly.
Krujha made a soft noise against his mouth that sent a warm tendril of pleasure curling through Alwyn’s stomach. He wantedto lean closer, to press himself against Krujha’s bigger body until it encompassed him entirely, to knit themselves together so he never had to be alone again.
But Krujha still moved as gingerly as if he were made of glass, and was the first to pull away.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, the words ghosting along Alwyn’s skin. “But I don’t want to stop, either.”
Alwyn leaned forward to press one more kiss to Krujha’s lips before letting himself settle back into the pile of blankets. For a long moment, they only looked at each other silently; finally, Krujha glanced away with an almost shy smile, laughing nervously.
