12
They watched each other, standing there in the tiny kitchen of the rundown farmhouse on the edge of nowhere that had come to feel like as much a home as Hadrian had ever known, and came to an unspoken understanding.
Whatever was about to happen, neither would face it alone.
Maybe that had been fated from that first night when Hadrian was drawn to a stranger under an ashberry tree—neither would be alone again, no matter the consequences.
Dorian nodded, and Hadrian smiled at him. It was probably a silly time to be smiling, but behind his fear and sadness there was a happiness. Happiness that he had found his way here, found this man, and they got to keep each other, for however short a time.
A few days with him was worth a lifetime without. Far better than another lifetime of death.
Dorian moved past him and swung open the door without a word, stepping out onto the porch with his dagger ready. Hadrian stepped out after him, ready to do whatever he needed to defend them—probably talk too much.
Four men stood at the bottom of the porch steps. Rebels by their attire, so both he and Dorian were done for. The man closest to the house, tall and slim with deep red hair, jumped when the door opened and turned, wide-eyed, to look up at Dorian.
“Holy shit,” the man said as the others turned to stare at them, and Hadrian prepared himself for what was to come. “Dorian? That you? Leeam said you was dead. Like dead, dead.”
“I was, Ash,” Dorian growled. “I got better.”
Ash tilted his head curiously while the other men gathered closer to the porch. Hadrian could tell a few of them were quicker on the uptake than their friend. They understood the confession behind Dorian’s words. To them, he would be a traitor.
“How’d you get better?” Ash finally asked, obviously unable to come to any conclusion on his own.
“I healed him,” Hadrian said, and stepped around Dorian. Dorian put a hand on his arm to hold him back, but Hadrian ignored him. “I am a magic user, and I healed him. He didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
A couple of the men reached for their weapons, and Dorian took another step forward. “He saved my life, and I am grateful he did. I will see no harm come to him,” Dorian snapped. Hadrian sighed in exasperation.
“We ain’t planning on harming no one,” Ash said.
The others looked less convincing with hands on bows or daggers, scowling at Hadrian.
“We ain’t allowed no more. Markious would come down on us.
You know that. Just want to make sure you wasn’t being kept against your will or nothin’.
You know who these mages are? You ain’t right? ”
“I am not,” Dorian said loudly. “Just know, neutral ground or no, I will shed blood if I have to to keep him from harm.”
“Stop belly aching man,” Ash said. “You know we ain’t allowed to touch these mages no more. Markious said. The Black Butcher too.”
“We’re not supposed to call him that anymore, Ash,” one of the other men said.
“Right. Still a big scary fucker though. And this is just the plains now. We ain’t supposed to call it neutral. I suppose you’re claiming this place as your own then?”
Dorian looked as bewildered as Hadrian felt.
Maybe this was some kind of rebel shorthand he just didn’t understand.
But why were they talking about the general?
The men behind Ash seemed to be losing interest in their conversation and were now staring out across the field and talking quietly about places by the river.
“Ash,” Dorian said slowly. “What is going on?”
“Whatya mean?”
“I mean, I just told you I was healed by a mage and you are not attacking me or the mage. Why?”
“Well that would be a stupid reason to attack ya in the first place, Dorian. But Valen would have our heads if we attacked a mage out here for nothin’.
Said so last night when he gave his big speech with Markious about the war being over.
He’s lettin’ us take over the old farms if we keep peaceful, though. So I’m keepin’ peaceful.”
Dorian looked like he’d been hit in the head. Hadrian felt like he was having as much trouble keeping up as poor Ash.
“The war’s over?” Hadrian finally asked in wonder. Ash spared him a look—a dirty look—but didn’t answer.
“Ash?” Dorian said.
“What?”
“Is the war over?”
“I done said that. Didn’t you hear the speeches last night?”
“I’ve been here, Ash. I’ve been here for days.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, that makes sense. You missed all the fun. Half of Eldora has been drunk since the sun went down. Not us though. We wanted to get here and find something good.”
“You’re only up because I threw a bucket on you, Ash,” one of the men said.
“Shut up,” Ash said without turning away. “So does that mean you aren’t taking this place then?” The other men perked up at that and started to walk back.
“I am,” Dorian said loudly. “It is already claimed.”
“Pfft. Figures,” Ash waved a hand at the other men.
“What’s the point in gettin’ up early if all the good stuff’s already taken?
I told you we should have taken that place up north, but nooo.
You idiots wanted a better barn.” He stopped and turned back to Dorian.
“You outta let Leeam know you ain’t dead.
He’s been real torn up about it since he got back to town.
Wouldn’t even come out and claim a farm or nothin’. ”
Dorian nodded, and the men made their way down the dirt path away from the house.
“I don’t understand,” Hadrian said as he watched them disappear at the end of the field. He felt like he was going crazy.
“The war is over,” Dorian said quietly.
“But it can’t be. Can it?”
“Ashfin is one of the simplest men I have ever met, but he is a rule follower. If the war wasn’t over, he never would have stood there with a mage in his sights and done nothing.
The others too. I… believe them,” he said in wonder.
“The war is over.” He turned back to look at Hadrian and smiled.
Then he looked at the house. “And I think I just claimed this farm.”
“Did you…” Hadrian stopped and tried to sort out his thoughts. He was having trouble holding on to anything, standing there looking at Dorian smiling at him. He felt lightheaded. “Do you want to stay here?” he finally managed.
Dorian laughed. “Yes.”
“Do you want to stay here with me? Do you want me to stay here? Us, I mean. Do you want us?”
“What? Of course I do—”
“I just thought maybe now that there was an option… I mean you could go home now, right? It’s all different now. You could have a farm, just like your family. You could do anything really now—”
Dorian cupped his face in both of his big hands and pulled his eyes up to meet his.
“Hadrian,” he said softly, still smiling.
“I want to live on this stupid little farm. I want to plant stupid carrots and harvest stupid apples and fix the stupid roof. I want that so much my heart sings for it. But none of this is worth a damn without you. I would burn it all to the ground for the chance to have a future with you in a mud hole. Any future. Anywhere. As long as you are there.”
Hadrian opened his mouth to say something—preferably something just as wonderfully romantic—and promptly broke down instead. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was all too much. Dorian held him tight as he sobbed uncontrollably against his chest.
Suddenly, Hadrian’s whole world was changed. As much as he had dreamed of an end to the war, he was completely unprepared for what it would actually feel like to live it. It was almost as terrifying as it was exhilarating.
And not only was he free for the first time in his life—free to live a life he wanted—he had someone else to live that life with. Someone so perfect it made his head spin to think about.
“Are you…” Dorian hesitated, his hands stilling on his back. “Do you want to stay here? I didn’t mean to assume. You can go home too. To the capital. I don’t know if they would let me—”
Hadrian shook his head against his chest. He was desperate to tell Dorian how much he wanted to stay—how perfect this life he proposed sounded—but he couldn’t stop crying.
“I…” he hiccuped in between sobs. “I love you, Dorian.”
Dorian pulled him closer and kissed his head. That just made him cry harder.
“Hey!”
Hadrian jumped at the deep, unfamiliar voice behind him and turned to find a tall, broad woman standing at the bottom of the steps, staring at him as if he was not standing there a slobbering mess in someone’s arms.
“Is this place yours or—”
“Yes,” Dorian snapped. “It is. Go away.”
“Alright. Shit. Don’t get all touchy.” She huffed and walked down the path, muttering.
“What?” Dorian asked. Hadrian had started to laugh against his chest.
He sniffed and looked at him. “You’re going to be the cranky old farmer who yells at kids for stealing his cabbages.”
Dorian looked out over the fields and then back at Hadrian. “Yes, probably. But not cabbages. The ground this far north is too wet for them.”
“Really?”
“Mmh. Gourds and Capes is what should be in the ground right now. We’re already a couple weeks late planting by the way. We have a lot of work to do.”
Hadrian beamed up at him. “I didn’t know that.”
“Which is exactly why you need me around. Can’t do everything with that fancy magic of yours.”
Hadrian laid his head against Dorian’s shoulder and sighed. “I need you for so much more than that.”
“We should put some work into the house too, before winter,” Dorian said, turning them back toward the door. “So we don’t freeze.”
“Do you think we could get a new bed?” Hadrian asked.
“Yes. I don’t imagine the one we have now will last through the night.” Dorian turned and gave him a look that nearly melted him on the spot before taking his hand and leading them back into the house.
“Do you think we should put up a sign or something?” Hadrian asked when they made it inside. “So people know we—oh, gods, Dorian.”
“Don’t worry. I think they’ll get the hint.”