Chapter Eight
SUCCULENT AND SWEET, the meat of the fruit was refreshing as Killian popped a couple of grapes into his mouth. He spit out the seeds before moving down the line. Vine after vine, he clipped bunch after bunch; dropping each into a collection box at his feet.
It was mindless and backbreaking work. The last two nights had Killian going to bed sore and aching in ways he hadn’t in decades, the stiff cot in the barn not helping matters.
Despite Kade’s offers, Killian had refused to stay in the house, in the room Pella rotted and died in.
Refused to let Kade do the same when he offered Killian his own room instead.
Sleeping in the barn again wouldn’t kill him.
Killian and Kade had fallen into a practiced and familiar routine. Early mornings spent sleepily mucking out stalls and feeding the horses before heading into the vineyard to harvest. Waves of nostalgia flooded through him. It was just like when they were kids.
Usually only a row or two over, Kade worked quickly and efficiently, with the ease and familiarity of someone who had tended the vines for their entire life. He had teased Killian for how slow he’d been the first day back as he’d struggled to keep up.
The vines had grown nearly double the height and thickness since Killian had left, lush and green leaves amongst the bunches of ripe fruit. More evidence of how the kingdom had changed for the better after Fyar had taken the throne.
The harvests were more than double, but that also meant the labor matched it.
Killian went to bed sore, but he was thankful for the work. The long days made it easier for Killian to ignore how fast approaching his departure was.
It loomed over the both of them.
Killian saw it in the way that Kade withdrew into himself at night, gazing into the fire in silence. Killian saw it in the way Kade would sometimes just stare at him, like if he blinked or looked away, Killian would disappear.
“Stop eating all the grapes.” Kade popped up next to Killian and smacked the few bulbs right out of his hands.
Killian stared forlornly at the wasted fruit on the ground. “It was only a couple.”
“A couple every two steps,” retorted Kade. “I swear you’ve eaten a whole barrel these last few days. You’ll eat us out of the entire harvest if left unsupervised.”
Scoffing, Killian said, “I remember when I used to tell you the same thing. Never could keep your thieving hands outside the harvest barrels.”
Kade pursed his lips. “Who has thieving hands now?”
Killian laughed and squatted down, fiddling with the grapes in the barrel, popping another couple into his mouth just to spite Kade. He chewed obnoxiously loud. “Have me arrested then.”
Kade sighed heavily. “Whatever. Eat the whole lot for all I care.” He then dropped onto the ground and laid out. His long limbs spread haphazardly, his hair splayed out and his eyes closed, not caring how dirty he would get. “It’s not like it really matters to me anyway.”
“What does that mean?”
Kade just shook his head.
Letting himself drop fully onto the ground, Killian sat at Kade’s feet, leaning back on his hands and turning his face towards the summer sun.
Killian focused on the sound of Kade breathing; long, slow breaths.
The crickets chirped and the distant stream trickled over the rocks.
No lingering threats. No fear of going home.
Paradise.
In another life, Killian could’ve had this every day. If he hadn’t broken that night, if he hadn’t snapped, if he’d waited Tyr and Pella out, he could’ve had this. A quiet life with Kade.
It was what he’d always wanted.
And yet, there was a dark cloud that hung above them, always threatening to break and steal away whatever fleeting happiness they’d found. One of Killian’s making.
“I miss her,” said Kade. It was the faintest whisper. “Is that crazy of me?”
Kade had his arm thrown over his eyes, shielding them from view. His throat worked, voice thick with emotion..
It took a long time for Killian to answer. When he found the words, they didn’t seem to be enough. “No, Kade. She was your mother.”
“She was awful. To you. To everyone. Selfish and demanding. I hated her. I loved her.” Trails of tears trekked down Kade’s face. His voice broke. “I miss her.”
Hesitant, Killian shifted over until he was laying flat on his back next to Kade. Shoulder to shoulder, Killian let his presence be known. A small comfort. “She loved you. More than anything. Whatever her faults—her many fucking faults—she loved you. It was her one redeeming quality.”
“I can’t forgive her for what she did to you. She threw you to the wolves.”
“Yes. Exactly. She offered me, and herself, up instead. To keep him away from you. She never regretted it, not for a second.”
“You can’t know that.”
“But I do,” Killian insisted. “It was the only thing we ever agreed on, me and Pella. We both wanted—needed—you to be safe, whatever the cost. It was the one thing I respected her for. I know she never regretted it, because I never did either. It’s not crazy for you to miss her. You’re allowed that.”
“What am I supposed to do now? She was all I had left.”
Killian clenched his fists. He wanted to argue against that, to shake Kade and shout that Kade had him. Kade would always have him. But he couldn’t. Because Kade didn’t have him. They had broken the day he’d been arrested and there was no going back from that.
Perhaps it was for the best.
Killian said, “You have Turell. Roi and Eria. They’ll help you after I’m gone. You have a good life here. I know you’ll be alright. And if you ever need me—”
“Don’t,” said Kade, hiccuping, his chest stuttering as he tried to get himself under control. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Killian closed his eyes.
The time passed slowly, each second more painful than the last as Killian was forced to listen to Kade cry, knowing there was no comfort he could give.
Killian matched every breath to Kade’s and let them sit in the stillness until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “I don’t remember you being such a cry baby.”
Kade made an offended noise.
“You were such a stoic child,” Killian continued lightly. “Never cried at all.”
“That’s not true. What right did I have to cry? When you were the one getting beat. When you were the one who comforted me. What did I have to cry about? How could I cry when you weren’t?”
“Kade.”
“I cried when you were taken away,” Kade admitted, his mouth tipping down. “I don’t think I did anything but cry that entire year.”
That hurt to hear.
Though there was a part of Killian—a horrible, horrible part—that was happy that Kade had felt his absence so deeply.
“If it makes you feel better, my first year away probably went about as well,” Killian said. “I don’t remember much of it, mostly just the sentencing. The days sort of bled together down there in the dark.”
“It doesn’t. Killi, that makes it so much worse.”
Oh. Killian snapped his mouth shut.
Sitting up, Kade wiped his eyes. There were small specks of dirt and dried leaves sticking to his hair and his clothes. “Let’s call it a day.”
“What?” Killian rolled himself upright to meet Kade eye to eye. “There’s still hours of daylight left. You slacker.”
Kade snorted. “And there’s still days left of harvest in my future, a few hours won’t set me back too far. Besides, I’m sure you’ll need some extra time tonight t-to pack.”
“Right.” Killian was leaving in the morning. “It won’t take much time. I didn’t bring much.”
Kade pursed his lips and nodded tersely. “Of course. After all, you weren’t planning on staying long.”
Killian opened his mouth, but Kade was already on his feet and walking away.
Kade had about the same reaction whenever Killian’s departure was brought up.
He would shut down and go quiet. It was the same as when he was a child.
He would withdraw into his own mind to escape the sounds of Tyr and Pella fighting when Killian couldn’t steal him away to the barn or wasn’t there to comfort him, having stumbled off to Eria’s in need of healing.
The only thing to do was wait Kade out, let him stew and pout until he was ready to come back to himself.
Killian fell back onto the ground, resigning himself to a long, silent ride back to the house. He laid there until Kade threatened to run him over with the wagon if he didn’t move his ass and help.
“Don’t you dare,” Kade warned, his hands held out in front of him as Killian advanced. “Killi—”
Killian smirked. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to dunk the younger elf, and he was going to take full advantage. Kade continued shouting even as Killian scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder.
Kade was heavier than expected, all muscle from years of hard labor.
Trying in vain to wiggle out of Killian’s grasp, Kade threw his body around, kicking and beating at Killian’s back. It didn’t help. Killian, stronger and sturdier, barely budged under the attacks. He stomped straight into the stream, his face split in a manic grin.
When the water reached his waist, Killian heaved forward.
Kade hit the water with a resounding smack and a loud curse.
The water was warm, but still cool to touch compared to the dry heat of summer.
They had wandered after unloading the cart and brushing out the horses, neither in a rush to head back into the farmhouse and settle for the night.
Or for Killian to start packing, marking a real end to his time in Turell.
The trail along the stream that cut through the vineyard was overgrown with green foliage and thick tree trunks. The stream was full and flourishing under the shade, an offshoot from the river that Pella had floated.