Page 35 of The Warrior and the Monk

But, as much as he relished the thought of a hearty meal, there were other matters that needed attention. He cleared his throat, trying to focus. "I met Kirk today," he said, breaking the silence. "Did you see him on the path?"

Anders’s eyes widened in surprise, and he shook his head, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Wilder shrugged. "He took my measurements for my new tunic. Were you going to tell me about it, or was it meant to be a surprise?"

Anders paused, his hands faltering for a moment as he looked at Wilder, clearly flustered. He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.Meant to tell you last night, he signed, his fingers moving quickly.But when I came home, you were... naked, and...He trailed off, his face flushing deep red.

Wilder felt his own cheeks burn in response. He hadn’t been expecting this conversation to take that turn. He quickly turned his gaze away to hide his embarrassment, but he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him. "I thought as much," he murmured. "But, we should discuss it now. Kirk told me some things. He said that we’ll have a ceremony with the townspeople in attendance—"

Anders nodded eagerly, his dark eyes lighting up.Yes, he signed.Where I’ll show my love for you, and declare you as my husband.

Wilder smiled at the thought, his heart swelling. "I’ll do the same, yes?"

Anders’s nod was quick, his expression one of pure joy.Yes, he agreed, his hands trembling slightly in excitement.

Wilder’s mind raced ahead, trying to keep up with the thoughts that were coming fast. "And then Kirk said that our guests will be the ones to prepare the wedding feast. Is that true?"

Anders nodded again, this time more slowly, as if confirming something he hadn’t quite thought about before.That’s right, he signed, his fingers precise.

Wilder was quiet for a moment, processing the difference in tradition between their two cultures. "If we had married where I’m from, we would have had to procure all the food for the wedding feast ourselves," he said, his voice thoughtful.

Anders frowned, the frown deepening with confusion.The couple feeds the guests?he asked, not quite understanding.

Wilder nodded. "Yes, that’s how it was where I’m from. The guests would bring gifts, like bolts of cloth or things for the household. Sometimes even money. But the couple had to provide the food, the drinks, the entertainment, everything." He paused, remembering what he had heard about other weddings. "But this... this is better, I think. A feast just for us."

Anders seemed somewhat mollified by that, though still unsure.At least they bring something, he signed.

Wilder chuckled, shaking his head. "Yes, I think I like the idea of having it prepared for us much better," he said, his voice light. "Now, shall we get started on dinner?"

They returned to the longhouse together, their hands still stained with the blood of the deer. Wilder lit a fire in the hearth, feeding the flames with small twigs and dry branches, while Anders worked on preparing the meat for roasting. The smell of the fire and the venison filled the air, rich and earthy, comforting in its familiarity.

As the flames danced in the hearth, Wilder turned to Anders, his curiosity piqued once again. "What sort of man is Kirk’s husband?" he asked.

Anders made a soft noise of thought, his lips curling slightly in a small, bemused smile.I find him strange, he admitted.But Kirk is strange as well, so they’re well-matched.

Wilder couldn’t help but laugh at that. "Do you think we’re well-matched?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

Anders’s face softened, and he signed without hesitation.Yes. We’re both very strange.

Wilder smiled, returning the look. There was something about Anders’s quiet certainty that made him feel grounded, even in the face of so many unknowns.

As they continued to work side by side, Wilder paused and hummed the tune that had been stuck in his head ever since he left Kirk’s workshop. "Here," he said, his voice light as hehummed the melody. "Kirk was humming this today. Tell me if you know the song."

Anders’s dark eyes sparkled as he listened intently, his expression shifting from curiosity to recognition. Wilder’s heart fluttered in his chest, and as they worked together, cooking the evening’s meal, the sound of their laughter and the hum of the song mingled with the crackle of the fire, filling the longhouse with warmth.

Chapter Thirteen

It was as though they lived in a world entirely of their own, a secret, serene corner of the earth that seemed crafted just for their enjoyment. In this small paradise, there was the longhouse, the garden that Wilder tended so carefully, the forest that whispered its secrets, the river that wound its way through the land, and the animals—deer, birds, rabbits, and the occasional wild boar. And within this quiet corner, there were Anders and Wilder, two souls intertwined, passing their days together in a peaceful rhythm of work and rest, love and companionship.

Wilder stretched lazily on their furs, the warmth of the day clinging to his skin. He reached down to adjust the blanket around them when Anders, always attentive, whispered something that made his heart flutter.Stay, Anders signed into his palm, the touch of his lips brushing against Wilder’s inner thigh.

Wilder shifted, squirming at the sensation, a little ticklish. "I just want to wash up," he murmured, trying to free himself from the intimacy of the moment. As much as he cherished their time together, there were some simple pleasures in life that he couldn't resist. Of all the luxuries that he now enjoyed in this new life, bathing in the river was one of his favorites. After a day spent cooking over the hearth, when the scent of wood smoke clung to his clothing, or after hours of weeding the garden under the sun’s relentless gaze, a dip in theriver was the perfect way to wash off the exertion and refresh his spirit. And, of course, after the heat of their lovemaking, it was a peaceful escape, a moment to clear his mind and cleanse his body.

You will just have to wash again later, Anders said, his eyes glinting mischievously as he gave Wilder a meaningful look.

Wilder grinned, not entirely unamused. "So be it," he replied, sitting up and stretching his arms wide. "You would keep me sticky and sweaty in these furs?"

Anders nodded, his face serious for a moment, but then a small smile curled his lips, and his laughter rumbled through his chest, warm and rich. It was a sound that Wilder had come to adore, something that had grown more frequent with time. It was the sound of happiness, of comfort, of a man at ease in his life. Wilder ran his fingers through Anders's dark curls, kissing his forehead in a gesture that spoke more than words ever could. He rose to his feet and headed toward the door, but before he could leave, Anders reached out and pulled him into a lingering kiss, a promise of more to come.

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