Part One #5
His blushes were subtle, but Westin had gotten into the habit of looking for them, even if he didn’t always understand them.
Sun could suck his cock on the bank of a river not far from a public road, but would flush ever so slightly darker when gently teased about his hair growing too long, or whenever someone—Westin—would buy him an extra cup of something or wait for him at a market stall while he debated which treat to get himself.
The color looked good on him, made him seem youthful but not young.
Excited, Westin supposed was a better way of describing it.
Innocent or happy in a way Sun rarely got to be.
Hely coughed.
Abruptly aware that he was staring, again, Westin forced himself to look at Hely.
Hely was hiding behind his wine without drinking it. He arched an eyebrow.
Westin heaved a breath and gave in, admitting the truth with a nod.
“Well,” Sun broke in as thunder sounded, “I could probably go for something to eat, judging from the delicious smells coming from the kitchens.”
“And a hot bath,” Westin added, firmly ignoring Hely, although aware Hely probably had both eyebrows raised now because Westin had nearly made that an order. Westin quickly tried to make it sound better. “You’re wet and the night will be cold.”
He was prepared for Sun to bristle. Anyone would have in his place.
Sun did stiffen, but then shook his head and leaned in.
“I won’t freeze, West.” His tone was gentle.
“But all right, I’ll have a hot bath.” He didn’t glance down as if to look through the table to Westin’s boots, and Westin’s feet inside them with a shortage of toes, or in any way overtly acknowledge Westin’s fears and the reasons for them.
He was gentle, but that was all. Agreement out of the way, he inched in even further to sniff the air around Westin.
“Can I choose perfume for the water too? I’ll feel like a noble’s pampered pet.
” His eyes were wide and breathtaking, dark enough to sparkle in candlelight. “Please?”
Westin had last seen Sun’s eyes like that on a late summer’s evening in an inn not far from a cool river.
“A room’s better than a barn,” he’d said, mischief in the smile he’d directed at Westin.
The room hadn’t cost a lot in the end; Sun had charmed the innkeeper too.
“Think of the sense of safety visitors will feel with two outguards nearby,” he’d argued, getting the price knocked down within moments.
Then he had stacked his things next to Westin’s in a tiny room, by a tiny bed.
Westin could have spent the night in a barn, which would have been free and where he would have had room to stretch out.
Instead, he had pinned a gloating Sun to a sliver of a mattress and then slept restlessly in the heat with Sun passed out on top of him.
An uncomfortable night, Westin reminded himself, if a dear one.
He wasn’t actually sure why Sun had requested the bed, except possibly to prove that he could.
Sun probably got most of what he asked for from people, and Westin was no exception.
But Westin had more money than Sun and he didn’t really mind.
Sun only ever asked for things like that from him anyway. Practical gifts. Certainly not jewelry.
“‘Pampered pet,’” he echoed, gaze sliding to Sun’s ear. The words flew out, quietly, if not sensibly. “I’m surprised there’s no necklace or collar to go with those sparkles.”
Blessed fae. It was not his business what Sun got up to when they were apart. It never had been.
A moment passed, Sun perhaps staring at him or perhaps frowning or perhaps considering getting up and leaving Westin at the table with Hely.
Then Sun slipped back into a slouch and reached up to stroke the cuffs at the shell of his ear.
“You noticed.” He smiled softly, possibly at the memory of receiving his gifts, and touched them again.
“They are shiny, aren’t they?” He turned his face toward Hely, but darted another look at Westin. “Do you think they suit me?”
“Oh yes,” Hely agreed, calm, but then, he had no reason not to be calm. “You’re a glittering, pretty thing even without them, and will likely only be more so after a bath and a meal have warmed you.”
Sun shimmied at the praise before frowning delicately. “And the cost of those would be…?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Westin spoke without thought again, because he was an idiot.
The idea of Sun in a bath in a real tub, with steaming, hot water and perfumes and soaps was distracting enough.
The idea of Sun in such a bath while decorated with shining jewelry was apt to make anyone say foolish things.
Westin blamed the knowledge that he would likely not see Sun much, or at all, once he retired.
Sun wasn’t even trying to charm him. Westin had no excuse for his behavior.
He picked up his cup of tea and downed it though it was cool and bordering on unpleasant. When he set the cup back down, it was to silence and two handsome men watching him with questions in their eyes.
“What? I’m not ‘too generous’ now?” Westin didn’t snap. He was a patient giant, after all. He didn’t even frown. Which was why he made himself add, almost pleasantly, “If you need a place to stash your pack and that sword, I have a room.”
Westin didn’t snap and he didn’t angle. He made the offer to store Sun’s belongings sincerely and Sun would know that. Sun would find his way to a room tonight almost certainly, and it very probably would not be Westin’s. Westin was foolish at the moment, but he wasn’t so foolish as to forget that.
“You got a room?” Sun prompted, voice rising. “For sleep or something other than sleep?” He glittered more than his many cuffs did as he turned to Hely. “That costs too, here, does it not? Or are the stories wrong?”
“Just a bed, Sun.” Westin rubbed his wrist, irritable at the ache that meant the rain wasn’t over, and that he was an aging man with injuries and pains, and all he had wanted to do, even in Solace House, was sleep in a nice, warm bed.
“But if someone did decide to offer solace, even to me, what of it? The house has bills to pay, the same as everywhere else.”
“‘What of it?’” Sun was disbelieving then abruptly still and quiet. “‘Solace?’” he echoed that too, young and lost, before his shoulders went back and his chin went up. “Solace,” he said again. It was different the second time. “That means peace, right?”
“A nice bed’s not jewelry, I admit,” Westin insisted, somehow unsurprised when Hely nudged his foot as if to tell him to mind his tone. He pushed out a breath. “But I’m an old, tired guard. Perhaps we want different things.”
Sun went still again, a slight line between his eyes. “Old?”
Hely cut in diplomatically. “A few hours of peace are worth a great deal to some at any age. Less so to others. But we try to make our friends happy here, as long as they are friends.”
Westin couldn’t tell if that was a warning or not, or why Hely thought he needed a warning.
Westin already knew he was just another companion in the Outguard to Sun.
He’d always known that. Some jewelry didn’t make any difference, even if Westin was having trouble feeling settled this evening.
But perhaps the warning, if there was one, was meant for Sun, who breathed hard and stared at Westin with an expression that could have been bewilderment, or anger, or anger about being bewildered.
But Sun was only a brat when it suited him to be. He was a well-trained, successful outguard the rest of the time. He smoothed whatever he felt from his face before he turned to Hely. His voice was even.
“What happens if someone isn’t friendly?” he wondered, curious. “I didn’t spot any burly types by the door as some taverns have.”
Hely didn’t seem offended. “Those get discovered and shown the door early on most of the time. One has to make friends here first. But it also helps that we have a frequent outguard visitor.” He nodded toward Westin.
Sun’s gaze slid to him, lingered, then returned to Hely as Hely continued.
“And though we are on Corilyeth territory and they aren’t particularly strong, they are respected enough that locals mind their manners. ”
“It’s other nobles that usually get pushy.” Sun made a face. “Especially the lesser families.” He paused. “Corilyeth? Four beats yet I’ve never heard of them.”
“Their power has weakened over the centuries,” Hely explained in an especially gentle voice.
“I don’t know all the history. But they don’t charge us rent, and in return, we provide news from river travelers and we use their crops here in the kitchens.
They are a farming family, known for that, and a little bit for their honey and some beets used for sugar. ”
“And Westin is a frequent visitor.” Sun kept his focus on Hely. “Is he from around here, then? Westin Lyeth makes me think so. Not that he has ever said.”
Westin opened, then closed, his mouth. “The family used to be Corialyeth,” he heard himself offering a moment later, as though Sun cared for trivial bits of knowledge.
“Five beats. But the family is so small now and their power so reduced, they dropped a beat a century ago so as to seem less foolish.”
“So, you are a local,” Sun interpreted. “Why not work here? Why the Outguard?”
Westin was unprepared for the intensity of the question, or for how Hely hummed and agreed.
“Yes. You would have done quite well here, Westin. Still would, more than likely. You have a soothing presence… most of the time, that is. There seem to be exceptions.” Hely glanced pointedly at Sun.
Sun’s mouth was set in a line. “But maybe too well. He’d listen and never volunteer a word about himself.”