Page 31 of A Suitable Captive

Lan continued to talk, oblivious to Fen contemplating how Lan’s hair might feel in his hands. “They couldn’t get back to the Hestabarri, and perhaps didn’t want to, and were wandering, hoping to find someone friendly. One of our scouts spotted them and decided to send them on.” Lan didn’t appear to be angry about this, although it was more mouths to feed and bodies to care for, and more risk for everyone else. “Ati said well done? That’s good. That’s very good. Ati wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. Give me your hands now, please.”

Fen raised his hands, his attention briefly falling to the dried and drying blood that reached his forearms and stained his fingernails. “Oh.”

Lan curled his fingers beneath the rope looped at Fen’s wrist. The rope was stained too.

Fen tensed and tried to pull his arm to his chest. Lan did not allow it.

Lan turned away, but then almost immediately brought his gaze back. He wrapped one hand around Fen’s wrist and held it tight. “Look at me, flower.” Fen did, tipping his head up. Lan pressed his thumb against Fen’s racing pulse. “There’s no cleaning it. It has to come off.” Fen’s arm jerked. Lan refused to let go. “Look at me,” he said again, harsher. He waited until their eyes met. “You’re mine. That remains the same, with or without this.” His eyes were fixed on Fen, who stared at him, mesmerized. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” Fen echoed, then sank his teeth into his bottom lip. “But…”

“You belong here and you’re mine. Do you believe me? Then say it, cub.”

“I belong here,” Fen whispered, watching Lan’s face fill with color, “I’m yours.”

Lan gave his wrist another squeeze and Fen slumped against the back of the chair, his arm still in Lan’s hands.

Heni coughed from the doorway. She held a bowl with a spoon and a steaming cup.

Lan slipped the bit of rope from Fen’s wrist and tossed it aside before he faced his sister. Heni’s eyebrows were very high. Lan thanked her and said something else that Fen couldn’t hear but which did nothing to lower Heni’s eyebrows. Then Lan took the cup and handed it to Fen, waiting until Fen held it securely before letting go. “Drink some.”

Fen obediently tipped the cup back while Heni and Lan exchanged more glances and Lan finally said, “He’s calm now,” and Heni answered, “If this is what it takes to end your pacing, then so be it. But know what you’re doing.”

After a while, the bowl replaced the cup. The bowl was full of unsweetened porridge, lightened with goat’s milk, and Fen had some of that too while Lan removed his boots for him. He did kneel down to do it, but Fen thought it best to concentrate on eating without spilling since Lan was so insistent that he eat.

Heni disappeared before the bowl was halfway empty, as Fen’s stomach roiled at the thought of more. He put the bowl down for Lan to observe and held up his hands again for more cleaning when Lan asked for them.

The rushlights died, though the candle continued to flicker. The tent’s door flap had been lowered, probably by Heni. Fen didn’t ask about it. Lan wiped the last of the water from him before helping Fen to his feet so Fen could take off his pants. Fen didn’t think the blood had soaked through to his skin, but maybe it had. Lan studied him in the lower light, then ran the damp towel over Fen’s hip and along one thigh, apologizing when Fen shook for it.

Fen closed one hand around his bare wrist and squeezed, which was not as soothing as when Lan had done it, but gave him something to hold. Lan paused to see it, but didn’t tell Fen to stop. He instructed Fen to sit on the bed before urging him to lie down and put his head on the single pillow.

“There was a great deal of blood,” Fen informed him, exhausted now that he was on his back.

“You’ll have to factor that into your plans too,” Lan told him, not gently, but Fen understood.

“Blood and pain and loss,” he murmured in agreement. “Screams. Tears. Not to be taken lightly. Lan—” Fen’s thoughts cleared for one moment, “you can’t bring that to the nobles without cause. You have to make the blood their choice.Seemlike their choice.”

“Enough plots now.” Lan arranged the fur so that it covered Fen’s chest, then went to the table to blow out the candle.

“Lan?” Fen called through the darkness his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to. “You must be tired. Won’t you sleep?”

“I’d planned to,” Lan answered, all the weariness in the world in his voice now that they were alone.

Fen rolled onto his side. “Here, please. With me.”

His eyes were already closed when the bed creaked. Lan settled at his back, on top of the fur but so hot he might not have needed it. “And you think you demand nothing,” he whispered into Fen’s hair. He laid his arm over Fen’s side and moved his hand until he could close it around Fen’s wrist. Then Fen was asleep.

Fourteen

Race dragged Fen into awareness the next morning, apologizing profusely and with unusual gravity while also tossing clothing at him. Ati had demanded Fen’s help again, so Race had been sent to wake him. It was not quite dawn and Lan was nowhere to be seen. Fen could not shake his head enough to make his thoughts clear, but when he followed Race to the stream to quickly wash his face, the cold water did some work to sharpen his wits. Race brought him to a fire afterward, and watched him eat camp bread and porridge before deeming him fit to go to Ati’s tent.

Fen spent the day there, or not far from it as he ran errands at Ati’s request. According to Ati, they did not have enough of the proper treatments on hand, which meant using up what portions of mild pain relief tea and tinctures that they did have and Fen stumbling outside to find Tellan. Tellan then sent countless people into the woods in pairs to search for more ingredients, and Fen spent a great deal of the rest of his day setting those up to dry or crushing things into fine powders.

He also learned that much of medicine was about helping people sleep and ensuring their bowels were working correctly. He walked Peari to the latrine and back, and gave them more tea that was meant to help make up for what they’d done without during their troubled journey here. Fen didn’t know what that meant, but Ati said it had something to do with pallor and how their blood beat against his fingertips.

Fen briefly stopped his work to get Ati a meal although Ati hadn’t asked for one, and Ati complained but sat to eat it, then moaned about his bones and tired feet when he had to get up again. Fen didn’t think Ati needed to get up to watch over two sleeping patients and Peari, and took over for him to let Ati rest for longer. Ati had watched over everyone all night by himself already, as Fen reminded him.

Ati had something to say about that, but it was muttered and Fen paid it no attention since he had learned that if Ati had an objection, he would vocalize it loudly and clearly. Since, after his muttering, he directed Fen from his chair, he must have appreciated the rest, though he did get up again not too long afterward.

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