Chapter Four
Pel
Pel blew out a shaky breath.
“Asking that was probably the most nerve-wracking thing I’ve ever done,” he confessed in a low voice.
Tor laughed softly and tilted his head so he could kiss Pel’s temple.
“Your courage should definitely be rewarded,” Tor told him, offering his hand so that Pel could grasp it.
Pel stared at it for a moment, and then he wildly scrambled away, turning so he was facing Tor properly. He couldn’t just grab someone’s hand while they were cuddled up together! They hadn’t even been facing one another! This was way more serious than that!
Tor must have seen the panic in Pel’s eyes, because he held up both hands like he was approaching a skittish animal.
“Hey, it’s nothing to worry about. People do this all the time.”
“I’m not most people,” Pel gritted out, trying to figure out why he was breathing so hard, chest rising and falling rapidly.
Tor smiled at him, not seeming the least bit perturbed. “No, you’re Pel. And I want to Tendril with you more than I’ve ever wanted to Tendril with anyone.”
Pel sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his thundering pulse. He wanted to Tendril with Tor more than he’d ever wanted to Tendril with anyone, too, didn’t he? That was why he’d brought it up. He swallowed.
“What if it doesn’t work?”
He hadn’t even meant to ask the question, but now the words were out there, and he looked up at Tor with a mixture of embarrassment and apprehension.
“Not going to happen,” Tor told him calmly.
“What if I’m not magical enough?”
“Two Unremarkable people can Tendril,” Tor reminded him gently.
Pel knew that. He knew that it was something that anyone could do, and he couldn’t decide if he appreciated that Tor was taking him seriously or if he was annoyed that he was being so patient and rational when Pel was being ridiculous.
Suddenly, Tor winked at him.
“Did you want to find out if we can Tendril in ridiculous ways? We could see if we can Tendril while on horses. Or while we’re naked. Or with our eyes closed while hopping on one foot. If anything goes awry, we would absolutely be able to blame the situation.”
Pel shot the man an incredulous look even as his lips tried to twitch up into a smile. “You aren’t helping. Stop talking.”
Tor stopped talking with a look of such pure innocence on his face that Pel couldn’t help but laugh. And the tension in his shoulders seemed to have drained away. He was still mildly terrified, but in a more manageable way.
Tor waited another moment and then offered, “We don’t have to do it now.”
“I want to do it now!” Pel snapped.
Tor didn’t say anything to that, just raised an eyebrow.
Pel cleared his throat, feeling his face heat. “Sorry. That’s, uh, probably not the way to handle Tendrilling, is it? Sort of less romantic if you’re snapping at one another?”
“Hey, I wasn’t snapping at anyone,” Tor pointed out, still with that supposed innocence.
Pel let out another bark of laughter, and Tor beamed at him. When he tugged Pel into his arms, Pel didn’t resist, and he leaned into the kiss that the other man initiated, getting lost in the warmth and heat of the man’s mouth, the soft connection that didn’t demand anything more.
Tor eventually pulled back. “I really want to do this with you. But I feel like I’m stressing you out.”
Pel could only laugh. “I’m the one who asked you.”
He’d seen how everyone reacted to him once they heard his name and realized he was Unremarkable—if they didn’t already know, because the gossip that King Forex’s middle child had Manifested with the lowest strength of magic had spread everywhere.
Princess Terila hadn’t even let him get past his name, and he’d intended to Tendril with her only because his father had sent him to Vayrin for that exact reason, to try to gain her favor and court her.
Unlike everyone else Pel knew, Tor had admitted to wanting to do this—he just hadn’t wanted to ask Pel for something he wasn’t ready for.
Tor had been overwhelming in his enthusiasm.
The only thing that was holding them back was Pel’s nerves.
He could put it off, and he knew that Tor would let him, but that would mean going through this again later, which seemed suddenly insupportable.
Pel squared his shoulders. He needed an answer more than he feared it.
He drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly. And then he deliberately held out his hand. “I really want to Tendril with you.”
Tor was looking at him carefully. “Yeah?”
And that was one of the reasons Pel loved Tor so much. He let Pel make his own decisions, but he was always careful of his feelings.
So Pel smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah.”
Tor wrapped his hand around Pel’s, steady and strong. Pel watched, transfixed, as magic welled up from Tor’s skin, until it was like starlight was Tendrilling out from his hand in every direction—just waiting for something to latch onto, only Pel was gazing in awe and not doing anything.
He’d never risked doing this. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, and he wasn’t prepared to have his feeble efforts compared to the marvelous things that first Bavil and then Larexa could do.
They had so much more magic. Larexa could create an entire shield, just like Tor could, a visible testament to her strength.
Bavil could Mantle his sword and shield with pure magic, making him stronger and better protected in battle than Pel would ever be.
Pel shouldn’t be making comparisons, he knew that, but… He wanted Tor so much, and for some inexplicable reason, Tor wanted him, too. He was waiting patiently right now, making no move to withdraw his hand or urge Pel into faster action, giving Pel all the time he needed to be ready.
Throat constricted, Pel closed his eyes.
He thought of his magic, which he so rarely did.
He’d always envisioned it as a tiny ball, squished into a corner of his chest somewhere.
He couldn’t Mantle anything. He certainly couldn’t make a self-sustaining shield or an avatar from pure magic.
But he was supposed to be able to Tendril and bond—two things that he’d thought he’d never have occasion to do.
He could still remember the moment when King Forex had Tendrilled with him, if you could call it that, confirming his extremely lacking magical strength at his Presentation.
Pel had already known, of course. One flashing moment where his magic had rippled across his skin as he’d Manifested, and then…
nothing. Illustrious sometimes glowed for hours when they first Manifested.
Extraordinary, or so Pel had heard, usually had magic burst out of them in some sort of glorious display.
One little flicker for Pel. He’d known then, of course he’d known, but there’d still been a tiny part of him that had hoped there was some sort of misunderstanding.
He’d never told anyone how hard he’d tried, how fiercely he’d attempted to will his magic to do more, to be more…
until that moment standing in front of his father, when King Forex had Tendrilled him and given him his suffix.
He was Pelun, the most disappointing of the King’s children.
So Pel had buried that tiny ball of magic and tried to excel in other ways. It had mostly worked—except for all the ways in which it had been a terrible idea, because Pel now actually wanted to Tendril but didn’t have the slightest idea what he was doing.
“Think about stretching out.”
Pel’s eyes flew open to find that Tor was looking at him with a patient, completely open expression despite the fact that he’d been reaching out this whole time, and Pel hadn’t managed to do a single thing.
Tor continued, “Envision your magic flowing into your hand, pooling in your palm. Think about it stretching out into your fingertips—and beyond.”
This sounded too simple to Pel, but it wasn’t like he had a better idea. And he could readily admit which of the two of them was the magic expert here.
Pel closed his eyes again. All right, little ball of magic. Flow to my hand, please.
Really, he supposed that was no weirder than Pel envisioning a ball of magic in his chest to begin with. Why couldn’t it be in his hand instead of his core? In comparison, Tor no doubt had so much magic it was coursing around his whole body, but Pel still had enough to fill his hand. Probably.
Everyone did, he reminded himself sternly; it just took Unremarkable more effort to pool their small amount in one spot.
He tried to envision his magic in his hand.
It helped that it was a small surface. Was that why Tendrilling always happened with clasped hands?
Could Extraordinary have been Tendrilling by bumping shoulders or tapping knees together this whole time?
He shook his head, trying to brush off the thought.
He was supposed to be concentrating on his magic and Tendrilling with the very patient man across from him.
Tor hadn’t asked him to possess more magic.
He hadn’t asked Pel to be anything other than what he was.
Tor knew Pel was Unremarkable, and he’d never shoved it in Pel’s face the way others had done.
His warm hand was still firmly clasping Pel’s, gentle and steady, and Pel just needed to get his magic there so that he could respond. Did it feel like there was something extra warm in his hand? Was Pel imagining it? Or was that Tor’s hand and magic, just waiting for him?
This wasn’t just Tendrilling, this was Tendrilling with Tor. Pel thought about his magic and how much he wanted to reach out and touch Tor. He’d had the courage to ask, and now he just needed to do it. Tor’s magic was right there, everyone was capable of this, he just had to reach out and—