Chapter Ten #2
“Yes,” Tor agreed. “I mean, as I think was clear, I didn’t know it was going to work. I was terribly afraid it wouldn’t, in fact. But I had to try. And so I just… reached for the connection that’s always been there. I don’t really know how to describe it.”
It had felt like he was reaching and reaching and reaching across all the distance between Tond and Alossa…
but also reaching deeper and deeper into himself.
He hadn’t needed the pink tint to his magic to tell him that he was overextending himself.
The knowledge of it had hummed out from his core through every part of him.
Since the alternative was unacceptable, Tor had done it anyway.
And then tried to do something that, as Pel and Larexa had pointed out, shouldn’t have been possible.
Tor and Var had never tried to share magic from such a distance.
It hadn’t occurred to them when they were younger, because they were almost always together.
But they’d shared magic a lot back then, once they’d realized they could.
And when Tor had felt that connection, when it had snapped into place, it was just what he remembered. It was the warmth of Tendrilling with Var, when their magic intermingled, when they couldn’t have been closer. Tor had never needed so much, but it was there, and he’d taken it so gratefully.
Pel was still looking at him as though he were seeing a stranger, and Tor really didn’t like it. Quietly, he admitted, “I didn’t want anyone else to die.”
Pel’s face softened, and he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Tor’s mouth despite the fact that his sister was still in the room.
“I know you didn’t. And you saved everyone, even though some of them seemed to be determined to destroy themselves. It’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. I’m so proud of you.”
Tor smiled, feeling those words settle in his chest. It had been a long time since someone had said that to him.
They were interrupted by the arrival of food, which was awesome, because Tor was so hungry, and he was ready to leave this subject behind. He didn’t have any more answers. But he was certain Varex would have felt what happened, so Tor needed to get back to Alossa.
Pel helped Tor with everything. He drank two bowls of soup with Pel’s help, ate three sandwiches, which Pel cut into absurdly small pieces, and snacked on a variety of raw vegetables.
He also drank another half dozen glasses of water.
It felt like he could just keep eating forever, but he reminded himself that there was actually a finite amount of space in his stomach.
Pel hovered, which was slightly insulting and actually fairly helpful.
Tor reminded himself that he’d apparently been unconscious for five days, and Pel would have had to deal with that on his own.
When Tor thought of how he would have reacted in Pel’s place…
Yes, if Pel wanted to practically spoon-feed him, Tor was just going to have to deal with it.
The food filled his belly and seemed to settle comfortably inside him, although he was pretty sure that he was trying to replenish a part of him that didn’t actually get filled up with food.
Although, from what he remembered, rest and nourishment after a magical coma were both important.
Larexa admonished Pel to make sure that he ate something, too, and Tor realized that he was being remiss in his duties. Looking more carefully, he noticed the circles under his eyes and the general hollowness of his features. He frowned.
“Have you not been taking care of yourself?” he asked, concerned.
Pel shot him a completely unimpressed look, and gestured up and down Tor’s entire self. “Excuse me?”
Tor couldn’t help but laugh. “Just because I’m occasionally very unwise doesn’t mean you need to be the same.”
For a moment, Pel tried to maintain his stern expression, but it didn’t last. His lips tipped up, his expression turning extremely fond. It was one of Tor’s favorite looks. Though, to be fair, he liked all of the man’s looks.
With a sigh, Pel admitted, “It was stressful bringing your unconscious body all the way back from the mountains, not being one hundred percent certain what was wrong and simply trusting our healer could fix it.”
Tor made a face, his stomach lurching at the idea. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound very pleasant.” Belatedly, he added, “Sorry I put you through that.”
Pel just rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you planned it.”
That was certainly true, but Pel had still dealt with the consequences.
Tor had to suddenly wonder if that was the story of his life. He was so relieved that he’d figured things out before Pel could be hurt by his asinine fake courting plan.
Hopefully, Tor offered, “I didn’t know I was going to pass out.”
Pel looked amused, thankfully.
Curiously, Tor asked, “What, uh, happened from your perspective?”
Pel explained that Tor had literally dropped at the top of the mountain. Thankfully, Cavun had been there to carry Tor, and Melody had then saved the day.
Tor laughed and laughed when Pel explained how he’d gotten Melody to come out of the cave. (Rin’s horse must have been pissed by whatever those guards had tried to do to run into a dark cave and stay out of sight.) Tor couldn’t wait to tell Rin about it.
The trip back wasn’t particularly amusing. Pel was circumspect, but it was clear that he’d been desperately worried.
“I assume your father wasn’t very impressed,” Tor said carefully.
“No,” Pel agreed very evenly.
Larexa snickered. Tor looked at her curiously.
“Pel yelled at Father to shut up!” she exclaimed gleefully.
Tor felt his eyebrows rise, and he turned to look at the man incredulously.
Pel shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes, looking a mixture of defiant and ever-so-slightly shamefaced.
“He was ranting,” Pel said grumpily. “You needed a healer.”
Tor leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “My hero.”
“Shut up.”
They all laughed, but Tor reached out to squeeze Pel’s hand. Pel had spent most of his life since he’d Manifested keeping his head down and trying to be an exemplary son. That he’d picked Tor over everything else meant a lot.
Sounding thoroughly annoyed, Pel admitted, “Father seems inclined to think that you ruined everything, and if you’d just left well enough alone, the situation would have resolved itself.”
“With everyone dead,” Tor couldn’t help but point out.
Pel made a face. “Exactly! But in his head, it’s somehow just the exiles who would have been destroyed.
By that logic, you were therefore aiding the exiles.
Which”—he grimaced once more—“I guess you could argue is what happened at the end, though it’s not like more Tondian guards wouldn’t have been lost in any ensuing battle!
And losing Sir Cloril didn’t help, not that it had anything to do with you.
But you know King Forex. He’s not exactly rational at the best of times.
He’s probably already written to the High King to complain. ”
Tor shrugged and nodded. This didn’t surprise him in the slightest. And really—
“Well, we were going anyway, weren’t we? After borrowing his magic, I definitely need to explain myself. I’m sure there are going to be rumors, and he needs to hear the full story from me. From us.” Tor looked at Pel hopefully. “Assuming you’re still willing to come.”
“Just try to stop me,” Pel told him fiercely.
Tor beamed. “How soon can we leave?”
“Are you capable of getting out of bed?” Pel asked skeptically.
Of course he could—
Oh. He’d mostly managed with eating, but that hadn’t been full-body coordination. It took Larexa and Pel to get him moved so that his legs were hanging over the side of the bed. Pel spent the whole time muttering that he was reckless.
Maybe Tor was reckless, but the realization that he’d been unconscious for five days and just been… lying there while people had hauled him around had suddenly made his skin itchy, like it wasn’t fitting right.
“I need to be on my feet.”
Pel seemed to understand, even if he didn’t approve, and he and Larexa helped heft Tor out of bed. At which point Tor realized that his legs felt like jelly, and he had to cling to both of them. They barely managed to keep him upright.
“Hi,” he said as he found himself clutching at Pel, who had an arm round his waist.
(Larexa was doing the same, but Tor wasn’t concentrating on that touch.)
“Reckless fool,” Pel told him, but he was back to sounding fond.
They managed a few stumbling steps around the room, and Tor was appalled by how hard it was, like his limbs had forgotten how to function properly, or his body wasn’t quite under his own direction.
Plus, everything ached, making him uncomfortably aware of himself and his movement in an unhelpful way.
As they progressed, though, it began to get a little bit easier, like his body remembered how walking worked.
“This isn’t so bad,” he said with as much cheer as he could muster.
Pel looked exasperated. “You’re propped up by two people, Tor!”
So then Tor had to try to do it on his own, of course. He managed a half dozen or so shuffling steps before his legs wobbled seriously, and Pel was there again, darting under his arm to keep him from falling over completely.
“How’d you like to get back into bed now?”
Tor was pretty sure it wasn’t actually a question. “I suppose I could do that. I’m kind of hungry again.”
Pel snorted. “You just ate enough for half the castle.”
“Then I’ll eat for the other half,” Tor answered immediately.
Pel helped him back to bed and made sure he had more food, but also made him promise to rest.
Tor did not want to rest, but… that brief circuit around his room had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit. It felt like he’d been on a hard week-long campaign. Goddess help him.