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“What we did,” Em said. “I needed you. I couldn’t’ve done all of it, holding their attention, making the circle, and after…I was so tired. I’m glad you broke it. I couldn’t move much. And you were here, a part of this world, when I was…opening up a door.”
“Not going anywhere.”
“It mattered more than you know. More than I thought it would.” Em paused; his eyes sparkled, through exhaustion. “If you were worried about being the hero.”
“I’m not,” Aric said dryly, “actually,” and eased onto the bed with him, and held him, and reached for the jug of mead. “More?”
Em accepted a sip, handed it back. “I’ll be ready to go in the morning. It’s just exertion. Like muscles.”
“Yep. Love you.”
“And by ready to go I mean sex. With you. If that wasn’t clear. Because I love you.”
“And you love comfortable beds and seducing me.”
“Good thing you’re susceptible to fairy charm.”
“Works every time. Would you want…” He hesitated. Took the thought, the idea, into awkward hands. Fumbling words. “If you ever wanted a bed, a house…with, y’know, my brother’s got that private bathing room…I know you want this life. What we do. But if you wanted to settle down…”
Emrys stared at him.
“Just a thought?”
“What sort of thoughts,” Em said, “were you having about me and this bed? And a whole house?”
“Never mind.”
“No.” Em leaned in, kissed him, left flavors of lavender and honey on Aric’s lips, sweetness surrounding him. “I know why you’re asking. What we’ve never had, really, either of us…someplace to come back to. To land.”
“Something like that.” He tipped their heads together, felt the fire-dried softness of Em’s hair, felt the bed beneath them and the wall at his back. Solid, supportive. “Something like that.”
“Maybe,” Em said, “I’ve thought about it too. Or not. Not exactly. Just…the idea of it. Not yet. What we do, going where we’re needed…I want that. I want to do that for a while, still. It matters.”
“But maybe someday. Soft beds and an oven big enough for a dozen berry pies. I can learn to bake pies.”
“And I’ll eat them all.” Em turned his head, kissed Aric’s collarbone. “I like it. Assuming my father doesn’t magically imprison us under a fairy-mound for a thousand years because he’s angry I haven’t come home to do his bidding, of course.”
“Only a thousand years? Could be worse.”
“Don’t tell him that. Every day, every new adventure…I do love this, you know. I’m happy.”
Aric tangled their legs together, and felt the truth of it, like peace, like a home, rising through his body, his heart, everyplace he and Em fit. “Yeah,” he said, “I know.”
THE END
