Epilogue
“CAPTAIN,” CALLED TOMMY, a hand up high in greeting as he and a couple others drew closer to where Killian stood at the warehouse entrance.
Tommy was a young man, with dark curls and a crooked smile.
He had a jagged scar cutting across his right cheek.
“We’re off for the night. Want to join us in the tavern for a drink before you head home? ”
Killian shook his head with a smile. “Not tonight, boys. I have something I need to take care of.”
“You say that every time.” Tommy clicked his tongue. “You’ve been here for months now, and you’ve never once actually come out with us. What?” He wiggled his fingers at Killian. ”Still not used to being around so many big, bad humans? You scared, Cap?”
“Terrified,” Killian said dryly. He kicked out playfully at the sturdy human. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you.”
Tommy grinned and danced out of the way.
“Leave him be, Tommy.” Another guard, Ryland, took Tommy by the shoulders and shook him. “You’re a lousy drunk. I wouldn’t wanna go drinking with you, either—“
”Hey!”
”Another time, Captain,” said Ryland. “We’re holding you to that.”
”Alright,” agreed Killian, a bit shocked at their determination. He thought they’d give up after almost three months of empty promises, but every night came another invitation. Maybe—just maybe—he’d take them up on it someday soon. “Get out of here. Enjoy your night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
There was a round of farewells from the men. Tommy gave him an exaggerated salute and a wink.
Ryland rolled his eyes but raised two fingers to his brow. And then chuckled to himself like he was funny or something.
They didn’t do that here, salutes and bows and any other unnecessary pompous ceremonial shit, or so they called it.
They weren’t formal at all, these men—these humans.
They were the exact opposite of the elves Killian was used to overseeing.
Loran would’ve lost his mind at the way they acted—the way they talked—especially to him, their captain.
They were hard men, rough and a bit dirty, but they were good men.
Strong men. Simple, country men. Killian could see himself calling them true friends someday.
Killian and Kade had settled in the human kingdom of Avaan, Netyere’s neighbor to the north. A dense and forested kingdom with high mountains and low valleys.
A four day ride from Ingara.
Kade had wanted to go further inland, away from the busy roads along the trade routes that connected the two kingdoms. He thought it’d be safer—and it would be—but Killian had argued it, saying that there were more opportunities for work in a city, and less prejudice or wariness of elves this close to the border.
That wasn’t the whole of it.
The truth was that Killian couldn’t stomach the idea of being too far from Netyere. From Ingara.
So, they settled on the outskirts of the small but bustling city of Tsur, a hub for travelers and traders and merchants. They purchased a bit of land and a cozy cottage nestled in a grove of trees.
Killian and Kade worked in the gardens together. Growing food and the herbs that Kade needed for his healing remedies.
It was a peaceful life. One Killian thought only existed in his dreams.
Life was good.
Life was easy.
Their human neighbors had been cautious of the pointy-eared newcomers at first, but with time they became warm and welcoming to the mated pair.
Kade quickly gained a reputation as a skilled healer, becoming the one that those in their vicinity called upon for help.
He was well loved. The humans couldn’t help but be taken by him.
By his smile and his quiet, kind charm. They doted on him though he was at least twice their age, bringing him gifts and desserts and pinching his cheeks like they do to their grandchildren.
It was cute the way Kade blushed at the affection, never quite knowing how to receive it. Neither of them had any experience with motherly love.
Killian found work with a local merchant who moved textiles and other goods over the border and throughout Avaan.
He had started as a hired sword on one of their caravans across the kingdom.
A mercenary. Just another nobody guard like anyone else, only a bit more…
exotic. He had quickly been promoted after the merchant—Mr. Williams—saw his skill and the metal of his mind.
It was light work, easy compared to organizing the every day of a palace, and the hours were more than manageable. He was home to Kade before dark. He hadn’t missed a dinner yet, and he didn’t intend to.
But sometimes, when he heard Tommy or Ryland or any of the other men call out Captain, Killian still expected to see Loran or Dantel when he turned to answer. It was jarring and always took a moment for him to shake himself back into reality.
Killian watched Tommy and Ryland push and shove at each other as their small group made their way towards the nearest tavern which they frequented.
Boys.
With a fond smile and a shake of his head, Killian took off after checking in with the few guards they had that preferred nights around the warehouse.
Then, he started the journey home.
It was the perfect evening for a walk.
Kade was seeing a patient off when he caught sight of Killi walking up the dirt path towards their house.
Killi’s pace was even and sure. His hands swung at his sides and his twin swords were strapped to his back.
He still favored an outfit of black fitted fabric, even though his work with the merchant didn’t require a uniform.
His hair was loose and freckled with raindrops as the spring rain fell from the sky.
He no longer looked like a Royal Guard, but there were still signs that he was and always would be a soldier.
Oh, how he smiled when he saw Kade.
Melting, Kade was helpless to do anything but return it.
”Get home safe,” Kade said to his patient. Distracted. “Make sure to take a warm bath once you get home, stave off a chill.”
”A little rain never killed no one. Us humans aren’t as delicate as that.”
“I just healed you, Sam. I don’t want to be called out to your house in the middle of the night because you didn’t listen to my advice. A warm bath once you get home. Tell your wife it’s my order, I’m sure she’ll agree with me.”
Sam grumbled, extremely put out. “Alright. Alright.” He didn’t bat an eye when Killi came up behind them on the covered porch and slipped his arms around Kade’s waist, pressing a soft kiss to his temple in greeting.
“I’ll tell her. You two have a good night now.
” He tipped his hat in farewell and stepped out into the rain towards his horse.
Kade felt his cheeks flame. He still wasn’t used to such public displays of affection, but he swallowed it down. Because it wasn’t weird, it wasn’t wrong. It was allowed. They were allowed.
They waved to Sam as he cantered away, leaving them once again in their own little bubble.
“You’re later than usual,” said Kade, leaning his head against Killi’s. “Did something happen?”
“No. I just had an errand to run after work.”
Understanding flashed through Kade. “Another letter?”
“Another letter,” Killi confirmed.
“Sit,” said Kade, urging the older elf towards one of the wooden chairs on the porch. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Killi’s mouth. “I’ll be right back.”
Heading inside, Kade puttered around their cottage for a moment.
It was about as big as the farmhouse in Turell had been.
A couple of rooms in the back and a wide, open living space.
Killi had insisted Kade take one of the rooms and dedicate it to his practice.
He’d joked he just didn’t want Kade’s mess spread out around the rest of the house, but Kade knew otherwise.
Killi understood how much Kade enjoyed his work and wanted to continue his healing.
Hopefully someday finishing his studies and become a master.
He’d been studying human healing in the meantime, trying to catch up on what his patients were used to.
It was fascinating to him—wildly impractical—but fascinating.
It was only a couple minutes later that Kade re-emerged, two steaming mugs of cider in his hands.
Killi was where Kade left him, seated on their covered wraparound porch.
But there was a distant look in his eye as he stared out across the hills.
Kade sometimes found him like that, staring off into the distance where he knew miles and miles and miles away stood the great elven city of Ingara. The royal palace of Netyere.
It had only been a year since Kade had been away from country life and he was quick to settle back into the routine of it.
It was harder for Killi.
Settling in Killi’s lap, Kade pressed close.
Rain was pattering over the roof, the rhythm of it comfortingly familiar. The dark clouds painted the sky grey and a light mist was settling over land like a blanket.
“What did you tell him this time?”
Killi’s lips quirked. “Nothing important. Just that we made our first harvest, and now that I’ve had to do some gardening of my own, I understand his love of it even less.” Kade rolled his eyes. “I told him you pushed me into the pond out back—”
“You tripped!”
“And that I got a leech because of it.”
“It was pretty funny,” Kade chuckled. “Did you tell him how you screamed like a baby when you saw it stuck to you?”
Killi’s eyes flashed. “Of course not.”
“Fyar would’ve thought that was hilarious.”
“He would’ve,” agreed Killi, softening. “He would’ve had a good laugh, and then run off to tell Hokda so he could laugh at me too.” His smile melted off his face. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear this.”
Shaking his head, Kade blew into his mug to cool the steaming drink.
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t interested. Fyar is, and always will be, important to you.
I’ll never understand it, but I don’t fault you for it.
If you want to talk about Fyar because you miss him, then I want to hear about the Fyar that you miss. ”
Killi shifted under him, putting his mug down on the table next to their chair, he wrapped one arm around Kade’s waist and rested the other on Kade’s thigh.
He tilted his head, thinking. “There are things I miss and things I don’t.
But I wouldn’t trade our new life here for the world. Don’t you see, Kade? We’re free.”
“I’m never letting you go.”
Killi’s smile lit up the world. Then, he leaned his head back and barked a laugh. “Gods help me, I even miss Hokda sometimes. That’s when I think I’m really losing my mind.”
“Oh. Me too. He’s so goddamn fussy but his brain…oh his brain is something else. I want to study it. Put it on display in my office.”
Killi looked horrified. “He grows on you.”
“Unfortunately.”
It was new, this easy way of speaking about their time in the palace.
It had been a raw topic for both of them the first month.
Not to mention Killi’s anger. He’d been furious, his rage burning him up from the inside out.
He’d tried to shield Kade from the worst of it, but Kade could tell a lot of that anger had been aimed his way.
Born of feelings of confusion and betrayal.
Feeling—rightly—like Kade had ruined his life.
Kade didn’t blame Killi for blaming him. Or for handling it the way he did.
Kade himself had blown up when he’d first found out that Killi was sending letters to the palace—to Fyar. He’d been terrified that the king, having been given the means to find out where they were, would send hunters after them.
They’d had many, many fights that first month.
Yet, no responses ever came, and no hunters did either. So Killi kept sending his letters, one every two weeks. Updates about their new life and whatever other nonsense he decided to include—like being bitten by a leech for the first time.
And slowly, Killi’s anger faded. Faded enough that they could talk, enough for him to sit down long enough to hear Kade’s side of story without flying into a tirade.
Faded enough for them to heal.
“Do you think Fyar reads them?” Kade asked. “Your letters?”
“I don’t know,” Killi replied. “I could see him throwing them in the fire before ever opening them, but…he’s a curious creature.
I don’t think he’d be able to withstand not knowing what’s inside.
Not that it matters if he doesn’t. I’ll just send more.
” His lips quirked up. “I believe, someday, somewhere, we’ll meet again. He hasn’t seen the last of me yet.”
Kade snorted. “What a threat.”
Grinning, Killi waggled his eyebrows. He said, “Enough about that. I’ve been thinking—”
“Oh no. That’s never good.”
“Ha ha. Listen, you.” Killi pinched Kade’s thigh, making the younger elf squirm, yelping.
“I’ve been thinking we should build a shop.
Right over there.” He pointed to a space adjacent to the cottage, currently occupied by a mess of trees and shrubbery.
“So you can have privacy for your patients, and more space for your supplies. It’ll be more official that way. Healer Kade.”
Inside his chest, Kade’s heart tripped all over itself. He blinked against the sting in his eyes. “You just don’t want them inside.”
“I really, really don’t. Your patients stink up our house with their blood and sickness. I can’t live like this anymore.”
“Snob.”
“Also, Kade, you have jars of eyes. It’s disgusting. I hate it. It feels like they’re watching me. I’m uncomfortable all the time.” Kade laughed and laughed. Killi continued, “We’ll hire someone. Obviously. Because I have no idea how to build that.”
“Obviously.”
“It might take a while to save up the coin it takes to build, but maybe we can start asking around?”
“Yeah. Alright.” Kade’s voice was thick with emotion. “Let’s do that.”
“See. Good things can come from me thinking after all.”
Kade kissed him, because he was helpless to do anything but. He sighed against Killi’s lips. “You should ask Fyar to send you your savings from the century you spent in his employ.”
Killi grunted unhappily. “Oh, trust me. I have. Many, many times.”
Kade leaned his forehead against Killi’s and just rested there for a long, long time. He could stay there forever and a day and still never want to leave.