11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
When Rafi finally left Viau’s bed, it was after Viau himself had gone down to the healers’ garden where he’d apparently been expected, although he’d told Rafi to stay for as long as he liked.
Viau was not one to lie, but he was one for excessive courtesy and Rafi didn’t want to presume.
Anyway, by then, Rafi had wanted to soak in hot water.
So he had stumbled barefoot from the room in Viau’s shirt and pants, bathed, and then returned to his and Cambray’s room to collapse in his small bed.
He woke up ravenously hungry and dressed to go to the evening meal.
Heads turned toward him as he entered the dining hall, which was when Rafi remembered that he had once again made a public scene over Viau during his aedis.
He couldn’t have said if it made it better or worse that Laure quickly got up from the table he shared with Katoh to walk Rafi over to join them.
At least the two of them didn’t expect Rafi to talk about it, or about anything. They pushed food at him until he was full, then firmly escorted him back to his room so he would rest.
The respite lasted until the next morning, when they all entered the hall and noticed Viau at a table with several instructors.
Rafi didn’t need to be nudged or poked or prodded, although of course Katoh did all three.
He still hadn’t asked Viau about his satisfaction problem.
He wasn’t going to in the dining hall, certainly.
But he did break off from his friends to go to Viau’s table, barely keeping himself from faltering when the instructors and Viau all turned to watch his approach.
“The walk,” Daloit observed, cracking a smile Rafi didn’t understand when Viau briefly narrowed his eyes at him.
Viau’s attention was back on Rafi before Rafi could think more about it, so Rafi stopped.
“Good morning, killer,” Viau greeted him, as if the academy wouldn’t be talking about that for days.
Rafi let out a tiny, exasperated sigh but didn’t argue. Viau was in a pleasant mood and Rafi was about to ask him for something.
“Good morning,” he returned, nodding to the instructors while also wishing they were anywhere else. “I was wondering if you were free soon—to spar,” he added quickly, so no one would get the wrong idea.
Or the correct idea, if Viau was agreeable.
“I’m yours.” Viau was agreeable, to the sparring at least. “For the next few days, anyway. Beyond that, I am still at the mercy of fickle relatives.”
The way he referred to the king and the royal family was amusing only to him.
Nonetheless, Rafi felt himself smiling widely. “Tomorrow?”
“The usual place and hour,” Viau answered without hesitation. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry? Do you need anything?”
Rafi waved vaguely behind him to his friends, undoubtedly watching this like everyone else.
He hoped they felt he had done enough, because he ought to step away before Viau started feeding him in front of everyone.
After a moment’s struggle, that was exactly what Rafi did, nodding toward the instructors again and smiling foolishly at Viau before turning to walk back the way he’d come.
Rafi would have spent the day and night nervously worrying over what he needed to ask, but he caught sight of Viau three more times that day and was greeted warmly each time, and that did more to calm him than any worrying ever had.
And the next morning, Viau was waiting for him in their courtyard, armed with practice swords and wearing a shirt that revealed that the mark on his throat from Rafi’s mouth had faded from view unless Rafi got very close.
He seemed delighted that Rafi attacked him the moment Rafi was armed, not that he allowed Rafi to win easily. Even with that, Rafi suspected Viau had allowed him the victory, and fought harder the second time, abandoning his sword altogether to tackle Viau to the ground.
The surprise on Viau’s face was worth the bruised knees and grass stains.
Viau didn’t even contest his loss. He smiled up at Rafi while they both caught their breath and said, “Then you stab me, I suppose, and without a drop of remorse.”
“Maybe a drop,” Rafi allowed, before it occurred to him that he was lying on top of Viau and ought to move. Then it occurred to him that kissing Viau might be easier than asking if Viau would like to bed him again, or explaining that the chief healer had told him to find a way to be satisfied.
But he heard a distant laugh and felt Viau’s aer slide against his, and then had only a second to realize that was because he was trying to take that aer before he was scrambling off Viau and to his feet.
“Sorry.” The reminder of why he’d needed Viau in the first place was the shock of stepping outside on a winter’s morning.
Rafi cringed as Viau stood on his own with fluid, easy grace.
“I’ve been…. I was practicing as the healers do but then with aedis and my extra work, I fell behind in that and my meditation. I’m sorry.”
Viau put a gentle hand on his arm. “If meditation were going to solve this problem, it would have by now. Your problem is not staying calm. You’re calm even when this happens—if I exclude aedis, which is hardly your fault; everyone who manipulates aer struggles with their control in those moments when those moments are new. ”
Rafi refused the excuse. “But I keep trying to take it from people.” What he was doing was dangerous. It was the kind of thing a ruthless aer-user might do in a fight, but Rafi wasn’t in a life-or-death situation when he did it.
“Look at me.” Viau was firm, so Rafi scowled but looked up.
Viau spoke with care. “You’re powerful, more than the academy first realized, I think, which was why you weren’t trained harder when you were younger.
You really ought to have been a mage, but that wouldn’t suit you and I refuse to let them have you.
” Rafi assumed that was a joke. Viau carried on, only pausing when he asked a question to wait for Rafi’s response.
“To you, it feels like you’re taking aer?
Do you know what I feel when you do it?”
Rafi shook his head.
“Reaching. That’s what I feel. You reaching out.
And some things, plants, animals, your friends, reach back without thinking.
Naturally, the animals and trees and such wouldn’t think.
Your friends ought to know better, but they care for you, so they answer.
And you really are shockingly strong. I think this happened because Instructor Alaman retired before you must have arrived here.
” Viau clucked his tongue. “He’s strong too.
He would have seen you and addressed this.
The current instructors are talented, but were hardly going to notice your use of aer. ”
Rafi didn’t understand. “Reaching?”
“You might be reaching all the time.” Viau softened his voice and leaned in though no one else was close enough to hear him.
“Not intentionally.” He softened even more to say that.
“But then something slips through and you falter, and for the span of a heartbeat, everything and everyone around you can hear a question they want to answer.”
Rafi was aware of his dry mouth and lips that felt chapped. He took a breath and made sure his aer was tamped down inside him and Viau was safe, and then asked, “Question?”
“Perhaps more of a statement. Or maybe that is what is in my heart and I’m placing it in yours to make myself feel better.
” Viau’s smile changed, becoming slightly mocking.
“That’s what poets do, although they’ll sometimes pretend otherwise.
And you, much like a poet, will insist that you are not that powerful, and that what you do has nothing to do with your heart.
But allow me to remind you—your aer touched mine, and in the midst of a heat, no less.
Mine.” A growl. “No one but a strong mage might do that, because I’m powerful too. Yet you managed it.”
“I did?” Rafi should have caught his breath by now. Viau inclined his head, watching Rafi in that intent way of his. “Did it worry you?”
Viau exhaled a small, contented sound. “How could it, already so familiar to me?”
Rafi was too close and growing closer, pulled in by the light in Viau’s eyes. “What was? What was familiar?” Viau stared at him. Rafi pressed forward. “The question?” He’d had a question to ask Viau, although he couldn’t bring it to mind now.
Viau’s brows came together, but then he was smiling again.
“They trained you not to reach, didn’t they?
They never quite trained it out of me, although they did try.
” He lightly tapped the end of Rafi’s nose, and when Rafi scowled, tapped his lips too, though there, his touch lingered.
“But when you forget, there it is, insistent and aching.”
“Flowers again,” Rafi snapped, surprised with himself for the show of temper.
Viau removed his fingers and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Rafi’s mouth. He spoke against Rafi’s parted lips, “Reach for me, Rafeli Tizzan, and I will answer.”
He left Rafi standing there, cheeks hot, thoughts spinning, to go retrieve their swords. Then he tossed Rafi’s at him and struck out without a word, destroying any attempt Rafi could have made to parry, or argue, or even think for the rest of the morning.