Chapter Twenty-Five #3
He stayed far later than he should have, but in quiet voices, they slowly began to devise a plan—or at least, the framework of one, shaky as it was.
Alwyn would teach the druid for another day, continuing to garner trust. The next time he was summoned after that, though, he would refuse to go and instead demand to speak to Zesh alone, no matter how long it took.
With any luck, he’d be brought to Zesh within a day—even if only to deal with his insubordination—and allude to some knowledge of Krujha’s betrayal, taking advantage of Zesh’s paranoia.
Meanwhile, Krujha would have made himself scarce, hidden inside the many canvas folds of the command tent or somewhere nearby.
Ideally, Zesh would send his guards to find the spy, while keeping Alwyn close and giving them their best chance to kill him with little interference.
Then they would get to the druid and do the same, before fleeing the camp with the horses that Krujha would instruct Brugo to prepare.
“It’s a shaky plan,” Alwyn sighed after they had worked through each step, his expression tense.
He was clearly still tired. As they’d spoken, he’d gone from sitting up to lying down, turned on his side so he could look at Krujha as he spoke.
“And we’ll have to adjust on the fly, surely.
I don’t think we’ll be lucky enough that they’ll each be in the command tent and the paddock, respectively.
But I can’t think of anything more certain. ”
“It’s the best we’ve got for now,” Krujha agreed. “And I believe in you. I know you’ll make the right judgment call in the moment.”
Alwyn managed a tiny, tired smile at that. “Thank you.”
They regarded each other silently for another long moment.
Krujha felt his heart swell with affection at the elf’s eyes peering up at him in the dim light, full of trust. He might die before he would have the opportunity to pursue whatever was between them, but he could enjoy it while he was still alive.
Carefully, he slid out of the chair where he’d been sitting and came to kneel beside Alwyn where he lay.
The elf’s expression became guarded—then a warm flush rose in his face as Krujha gingerly ran his fingers through Alwyn’s hair, before settling his palm on his small cheek.
“And I swear you can rely on me,” he whispered, keeping his eyes on him, even as Alwyn’s gaze darted away uncomfortably. “No matter what, Alwyn, we’re in this together. We’re a team. I won’t leave you behind. If there’s a way to get us both out of here alive, we’re going to find it.”
Alwyn’s lips pressed together as Krujha spoke. When his eyes darted back up, he lifted one hand and gently placed it atop Krujha’s where it rested on his face. He didn’t quite interlace their fingers, but squeezed with a gentle, reassuring pressure.
“Thank you,” he murmured. After a moment, he released a long breath. Something had changed in the elf’s eyes. “I promise I won’t let you die alone here. We’ll both make it out.”
For a moment, Krujha could only feel the urge to lean down and kiss him.
He wanted to—it was all he wanted for one brief, wild moment.
But before he could, Alwyn shifted, swinging his legs forward so he could sit up on the edge of the mattress, almost eye to eye with Krujha where he knelt.
His mouth worked silently, as if he were trying to say something else, still holding Krujha’s eyes.
Krujha waited, wondering. When Alwyn finally spoke, he looked defeated. “I... I appreciate your belief in me. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will,” he said, smiling softly down at the elf. He stood with a stifled groan. “It’s late. I should go.”
“Okay,” Alwyn agreed, nodding, though he was pushing himself up onto his feet now, too.
Kissing Alwyn was a bad idea, but he could at least embrace him.
Before he could think better of it, Krujha pulled the elf into his arms, holding him tightly.
Alwyn’s whole body stiffened against him, clearly taken off-guard.
After a moment, though, he felt the elf slowly relax into the hold, and his smaller arms lifted to wrap around Krujha’s waist.
He couldn’t bring himself to say what he was thinking.
It would all be too much of a distraction as they enacted the most dangerous part of their plan.
But he could hold Alwyn as tightly as if he had said it, and imagine a future where they were both alive and well—free enough that Krujha could tell Alwyn how the first spark of affection that he’d felt weeks ago had grown and grown, and Alwyn would be free, too, to respond with his true thoughts in return.
Someday, he told himself. Someday there would be time for all that. But not tonight.
Eventually, he released his hold on Alwyn and took a step back. The elf’s eyes were wide and uncertain as they parted, watching him as he stepped toward the back of the tent.
“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered, pushing the panel aside. Alwyn nodded once, and Krujha slipped out into the icy midnight air.