Chapter Twenty-One
Pel
There was a moment where neither Pel nor Bavil seemed to know what to do, and then they were suddenly in one another’s arms, hugging one another too tightly.
“Pel, by the goddess, what are you doing here? What’s going on? Are you all right?”
For just a moment, Pel let himself sag against his big brother, because everything was definitely not all right, and maybe Pel was tired of needing to try to figure this out.
Maybe he just missed his brother.
He sighed against Bavil’s solid shoulder, and then he made himself stand upright again, because he was still his own fully functional person, and just because he was exhausted and maybe felt like crying didn’t mean there was time to fall apart.
He regarded his brother for a moment, and then he admitted, “No, it’s not really all right. Oh, Bavil, everything’s gone terribly, terribly wrong.”
“What’s happened?”
Pel swallowed, and his eyes strayed over to the strange woman.
Bavil’s eyes went large. “Oh, sorry, this is probably terrible timing. This is Tama. You probably don’t remember her, Pel, but we used to play together when we were here as children. Her father was the healer in this area.”
Pel tried to focus on what his brother was saying.
He was introducing Pel to the woman that Beluna was holding at sword point.
The woman had told them that she was meeting someone, and Bavil had rushed in ready to defend her.
She had a name—which, obviously—but Bavil was the one who’d shared it, and that meant—
“Are you having a private assignation up the mountain?” Pel asked.
He hadn’t meant to sound quite so incredulous, but just at the moment, the notion that his brother happened to show up here to meet a woman in a cave strained credulity.
Bavil stiffened, although the woman—Tama—was regarding them with amusement.
“And if I am?” he asked belligerently.
This would normally be the point that Pel made a snarky remark about not being able to keep it in his pants, but that felt incredibly immature all of a sudden. Pel had more important considerations.
“That would explain why you’re here,” he said instead. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve slept properly in a couple of weeks. I, uh, really didn’t expect to see you here.”
Bavil’s shoulders immediately dropped. “What are you doing here?”
“I remembered the cave, too,” Pel said wryly. “And I needed somewhere… safe to come for a little while.” He looked at Bavil, glanced at Tama, and then back to his brother. “There’s no way to politely ask this, but I feel like I’ve run out of options. Do you trust her?”
Bavil nodded, his expression grave. “Yes, I trust her.”
So Pel stepped out of the way so that Bavil could see all the way into the cave.
His eyes widened. “Is that—?”
Pel nodded. “He’s injured. He must be magically exhausted again, because it’s been almost two weeks, and he still hasn’t woken up. I needed to get him somewhere safe, and this was the only place I could think of.”
“You could have come to me,” Bavil said immediately.
He looked hurt, Pel thought.
“I, uh, I really hoped so,” he admitted, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “But I wasn’t willing to risk it with Father. His letter to the High King didn’t cast Tor or I in a good light, and it… really made a mess of everything.”
Bavil opened his mouth, but then Tama stepped into the mouth of the cave.
“That’s the High Prince? And you think he’s in a magical coma?”
Pel hesitated, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t already admitted as much. Bavil trusted her, and Pel didn’t feel like he had much choice but to do the same—and pray that his brother’s judgment was accurate.
Tama pushed into the cave and went to kneel beside Tor. Pel rushed over as she reached for him, but Bavil was following and caught his arm.
“She’s a healer. It’s all right.”
All of Pel’s thought processes ground to a halt.
Bavil knew an unregistered healer and happened to be meeting with her in the same cave where Pel had decided to retreat with Tor?
It seemed utterly improbable… but they’d had some pretty poor luck recently, and Pel decided that he would simply be grateful.
Goddess, if this was you, thank you.
Denil Mantled his sword so that there was more light in the cave, and once Bavil saw, he did the same, meaning Tor was soon awash in bright white light.
It made him look terribly pale, just like he had through this whole journey, a ghastly version of his normal self.
Pel still had to clench his hands to prevent himself from reaching out for Tor as Tama cupped his face. Her eyes fluttered closed, and then she looked intent with concentration, like she was seeing something that Pel couldn’t.
He stood there, shifting from foot to foot, antsy and uncertain, only then her eyes opened. She gestured Pel closer, and with deep relief, he sank to the ground beside Tor, scooping up his hand and twining their fingers together. That was a little better, at least.
“How long have you been bonded?” Tama asked him.
Pel startled. “We’re not bonded.”
Now she looked confused. “You certainly are. If you weren’t bonded, he wouldn’t be alive right now.”
A full-body shudder ran through Pel. He had to swallow through his suddenly parched throat.
“What do you mean?” he gasped out.
“The Prince’s magic was drained to so dangerous a level that I’m genuinely surprised he’s still alive. What I feel sustaining him is the bond you share.”
She glanced down at their joined hands… something that Pel had been doing every chance he got since the man had been unconscious, twining them together like they were Blending, only Tor wasn’t awake to summon his magic, and it hadn’t occurred to Pel to summon his own.
But maybe his instincts had been enough.
He hadn’t realized healers could feel bonds. Could she actually feel his magic, though, or did she sense other magic and assume it was Pel’s?
“Tor suffered from magical exhaustion three or so weeks ago. Our healer helped speed his healing then. Are you sure it’s not his magic you feel?”
She shook her head. “Definitely not. That would have been transitory. It often feels… foreign, for lack of a better way to describe it. This connection feels natural and permanent.”
Which was both delightful and alarming… but he still didn’t understand.
“But we didn’t bond,” he told her earnestly. “I swear we didn’t. We agreed that we were going to wait until we got his brother’s approval.”
And look how that had gone. Now was obviously not the time, but he rather thought he’d been proved right about waiting, at least when it came to High King Varex’s reaction.
“You mean you didn’t say the words,” Tama corrected.
“Definitely not,” Pel agreed.
“But did you feel the feelings?” she asked.
Pel frowned.
Tama sighed. “Bonding is most often completed as part of a bonding ceremony, where the words are part of the process. But it isn’t as though you can be accidentally bonded simply by speaking those words.”
That made sense. Hundreds of teens would wind up inadvertently bonded if that were the case. Pel might never have played that game, but he’d seen the children and teens of Baless clasping hands and declaring their bond often enough.
Tama continued. “Actual bonding is about intent. You combine your magic, and you have to both deeply desire a bond. We’re encouraged to think about it and declare it formally, but it isn’t strictly necessary.
This is much deeper than a casual thought of ‘wouldn’t it be lovely if,’ but magic and intent matter far more than words. ”
Pel had had no idea. He’d given up on the idea of a bond soon after he’d turned sixteen and learned how few people wanted him as he was. The idea that he and Tor had gotten accidentally bonded was ludicrous… and yet.
Had they both wanted to be bonded? That had certainly been their intention.
Pel was quite sure that if only he’d agreed, Tor would have bonded with him before they headed back to Alossa.
As for Pel? If he were being perfectly honest with himself, he’d wanted to be bonded to Tor for a lot longer than he wanted to admit, even before they Tendrilled but certainly with frequency afterwards. He just hadn’t acknowledged it.
Pel was still at a loss. “But surely people who want to bond must both think about wanting to bond relatively frequently? How doesn’t this happen more often?”
Tama’s brow furrowed. “No, it’s much more intentional than that. It can only happen when you’re Blended, and your magical and mental intent is deep and deliberate for both of you at the same time. It’s why formalizing it with words makes the most sense, to ensure you’re focusing together.”
But she was still saying that Pel and Tor had done this without all that. They’d definitely not said the words, and Pel still wasn’t convinced they’d felt the feelings. Yes, they’d Blended a lot, but most courting couples did that, and they didn’t wind up accidentally bonded.
Pel searched through their interactions. They’d been constantly affectionate, certainly, but that didn’t feel like enough.
And then the night they’d had sex while Blended popped into Pel’s head. He thought about how gloriously connected he’d felt to the other man, how much Pel had wanted him, had wanted them to have this together… forever.
Goddess help him. Had Tor been thinking the exact same thing?
Tama clearly saw it on his face. “You remember?”
Pel nodded, feeling his face heat. It was really the only occasion he could bring to mind where they’d been Blending and Pel had been feeling so much. Not that he didn’t usually feel good when they’d Blended, but even now, he remembered how fiercely he’d wanted and how much he’d wanted it to last.
The idea that Tor had been feeling the same was still sort of stunning. It made Pel feel even more foolish about those few hours where he’d harbored such doubts.
They’d both made their feelings more than clear… except not in a way that either of them had realized.