Sky and Storm (Warriors of Vis, Book One)

by Alina Popescu

  Sky groaned, not even trying to hide his discontent. Cloud was back from Estas now that spring had come, and she was pushing for more time with him ever since Storm had left on his new campaign. Sky missed the long, cold winter. It was all so quiet.

  “I told her you weren’t feeling well,” the old woman added. “Only half a lie, I suppose.”

  “I have no time for her today, not with Storm returning and my being in this pathetic state,” Sky said.

  “I know, my lord, told her as much.” Sera pushed him back, urging him to relax as she massaged his scalp.

  After bathing him, she brought some of her lemon scented creams and rubbed his body in them, leaving a greasy feeling on his face for what felt like hours. Slices of fruit and random vegetables strategically placed on affected areas followed, along with a thorough rub down with pieces of cloth dipped in nasty smelling infusions and other such secret substances the woman seemed to always produce out of thin air.

  By evening, he was already feeling better. With powders and creams, she hid the effects of long term sleep deprivation. Once she was done, he ventured a look in the mirror. He gasped, scared by the thin, bony face looking back at him.

  Sera wrapped her arms around Sky’s shoulders, touching her cheek to his. Sat on the chair in front of the mirror, he was almost as tall as her.

  “I’ll brush your hair and let it loose, it will help you hide how thin you are.” Her warm voice soothed Sky more than her words.

  One of the soldiers knocked on the door, shouting that the Dragon was half an hour’s ride away. Sky sighed, sending a quick prayer to whatever gods were listening that his husband wouldn’t notice his sorry state. It wasn’t Sky’s fault Storm had married someone who always disappointed him. Sky bet the Dragon regretted his choice now.

  With another quick look in the mirror, Sky stood and walked to the door of his private chambers. Cloud was waiting on the other side, ready to pounce.

  “Well, you look like crap,” she said, hands on her hips, a scowl planted on her face.

  “You look beautiful as ever, Cloud,” he said, tilting his head.

  Cloud glared at Sera. “I thought your maid was lying when she said you were sick. I can see she wasn’t. You cannot be healthy and look this bad.”

  Sky let her drag him along the corridors and down long, winding flights of stairs. They walked through the huge hall where the entire court was assembled to greet the Dragon. Soldiers were flanking them on both sides, but Sky still didn’t feel safe enough from the masses of noblemen and noblewomen gathered there. Words could cut through his guards.

  Sky had heard all the rumors, all the insults, everything. And if he managed to miss one or two, Cloud would bring them to his attention. They called him useless, chatted about how his husband wouldn’t touch him. One year of marriage and Sky was still a virgin. Stories of the hordes of women and men Storm had fucked in and outside the castle were his most dreaded enemy. They said the Dragon went to war because there was nothing left to fuck around these parts of the world. Their snickers and comments were already reaching Sky. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t ignore them. They always manage to break his heart a little more. But the little bugger never gave out, never had enough, never stopped hurting.

  The rapping of the horses eating up the distance to the castle’s main entrance made Sky snap from his depressing thoughts. He stepped a little forward on his own, stopping in his designated spot and waiting for his husband. His heart started beating harder, blood rushing through his head, his ears pounding, his stomach in painful knots. Here we go…

  Storm jumped off his horse, removed his cloak and let it slide on the pavement. He looked so strong and beautiful. A mass of surprisingly graceful muscles stalking closers, his long dark curls flowing in the night breeze. He stopped in front of Sky, mumbling a greeting and bending enough for Sky to reach his cheek.

  “Welcome home,” Sky said in a shaky voice and kissed him with trembling lips. His hands tightened on Storm’s upper arms and he felt Storm stiffening at his touch. Sky stepped back quickly and walked next to his husband into the dining room, but did not take the arm Storm offered. He didn’t want the Dragon to freeze again under his touch. More often than not, Storm acted like he hated it when his husband touched him. Sky found it very confusing, the way Storm would sometimes search physical contact, and other times would flinch and move away as if he’d been burnt.

  As they climbed the few stairs leading to the large dining room they used instead of the banquet hall when they had no more than twenty guests, Sky’s legs gave and to his horror, he felt himself falling. Storm’s strong arms caught him and crushed him against the wall of steel that was his upper body.

  “You’ve lost weight,” Storm stated, frowning deeply.

  “He’s been sick,” Cloud hissed from behind them.

  “Sick? Have you seen the healers? What did they say?”

  Sky sighed and allowed himself a few seconds melting against Storm. “I’m perfectly all right, Dragon. Nothing but a dreaded cold. I’m sure I’ll gain back all the weight in no time.”

  Storm helped Sky to his chair on the prince’s right side and watched him like a hawk all through dinner. Sky could hardly eat anything. His stomach refused the food and his husband’s constant scrutiny made him feel terrible. Their relationship was nothing more than a flimsy façade. And now Storm was forced to keep his eyes trained on the man he hated to touch, hated to hold, hated to be wed to.

  Storm always left to fight and conquer. The prince saw the glory and beauty of lands near and far. Yet he always returned to the husband he couldn’t stand to have around. Never more than three months away, never less than two, until now. Why do you insist on returning here, Storm?

  “Would you like to leave?” Storm asked in a voice softer than Sky had ever heard from him.

  Sky nodded with jerky movements, unsure he could speak. Storm hastily called the dinner to an end. He walked Sky to their room, holding Sky’s hand in his and placing his free one on the small of Sky’s back. Storm helped him sit on the edge of the bed and called Sera to help with his clothes.

  Sky was already under the covers when Storm entered the room again, wearing nothing but a pair of loose cotton sleeping pants that rode low on his hips. A sharp intake of breath and Sky’s eyes fluttering had him curse in his mind. He hated that, despite Storm’s complete lack of interest in him, Sky still found his husband so irresistible. Sky wanted Storm so badly, it made him dizzy just to think of it.

  Sky pushed himself deeper into the pillows, preparing for the torture that would follow. Storm got under the covers next to him and wrapped Sky in his arms. On instinct, Sky snuggled into his husband’s side, sighing softly and relaxing. This was Sky’s sanctuary, the nights he spent sleeping in his prince’s arms, the only pleasure of his miserable life. Sky never understood why they slept like that and he never dared question Storm about it. He was too afraid Storm would stop holding him as they slept.

  For the first time in a month, Sky felt at peace and thanked the gods for his husband’s return. He felt a deep, calming sleep taking him over and he smiled against Storm’s warm skin, a little moan escaping him.

  CHAPTER III

  The Withering Flower

  STORM WOKE UP TO BIRDS chirping outside and a cool morning breeze making the curtains flutter. He patted the empty bed. Sky was gone. He forced his tired eyes open and spied his husband leaning on the railing, looking out the balcony. Sky was enjoying his beloved view: the port and the shoreline with its angry waves hitting the rocks on one side and the winding road leading back to his home on the other.

  Sky was wearing loose fitting clothes again, but it was not enough to hide his figure. He had lost weight, a lot of it. What kind of illness made you go from normal to skin and bones in a few weeks?

  Campaign after campaign, battle after battle, it all got worse every time Storm returned. Sera would help Sky hide it and as far as Storm could remember from past visits home, he seemed
to be eating well when Storm was around. Sky attended all events and was kind and polite to everyone. The sadness in his eyes, especially when he looked at Storm, was unmistakable though, along with the hints of desperation and quiet rage.

  Storm sat up, resting on his pillow, and looked around their room. It felt almost foreign to him, he had spent so little time here over the past year. Every time Storm saw Sky, he wondered why the hell he bothered coming back. There was nothing for him here. There had never been. Not since he had turned sixteen. That dreaded day when Storm’s life had changed and it all had gone up in flames. Somehow, he couldn’t let go of the flimsy hope Sky might go back to how he treated Storm before he’d been sent back to his parents. The fact he still loved Sky after all that time, after all the ways in which Sky had hurt him since their reunion, drove him mad with anger.

  Sky turned, the weak smile on his lips faded and replaced with a nervous quiver. He walked back inside, then sat on the edge of the bed, pulling one leg up and resting his elbow on his bent knee.

  “Morning,” Sky mumbled, eyeing Storm carefully.

  Storm pushed down his anger and smiled. Sky’s eyes widened in surprise, then his lips curved a little. The little grin brightened his sunken face and sent a warm wave through Storm.

  “How long have you been up?” Storm knew from the fruity scent surrounding Sky that Sera had already seen to him today. He wondered how Sky looked under all her tricks. And what was it that he was hiding.

  “A while.” Sky refused to meet Storm’s gaze.

  Storm leaned in, cupped Sky’s cheek and forced him to meet his eyes. “What is going on, Sky? How ill are you, really?”

  Storm shivered when Sky placed his hand over the prince’s, but it was only to push it away. That was Sky all right, never allowing too much physical contact.

  “It’s not that serious, my lord.”

  “It’s Storm. It’s fucking Storm,” the prince roared, jumping off the bed and walking out of the room.

  Storm ran all the way to the inner courtyard where the training grounds were. He signaled two of the soldiers stationed there to charge. They were in full combat gear, while Storm was wearing nothing but the cotton pants he had slept in. That was how he loved to fight, with the wind biting his skin.

  No one had ever defeated Storm in hand-to-hand combat, not even when they attacked in groups. Storm was extremely agile and flexible, adding to his strength and calmness. No one stood a chance. The two soldiers were soon down on the ground. Storm took a few breaths and returned to his room. It was empty.

  As he was getting dressed, Sera walked in, looking as stern and unfriendly as ever. Storm knew she hated him, he just couldn’t understand why. The woman had seen him grow up and she had never treated him this way. Well, not before Sky’s arrival.

  “Master Sky has gone downstairs for breakfast with your family. He said he’ll meet you there.” She turned and left without waiting for any response from Storm.

  Storm groaned and swore at himself for not replacing her.

  He arrived at the breakfast table just in time to see Cloud pushing her chair closer to Sky and leaning on his shoulder, all smiles and eyelash batting. A low growl started out deep within him and traveled up his throat, making Sky jump. Cloud however, couldn’t care.

  “Good morning, brother,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Get the fuck off my husband and move from my seat,” Storm said, grabbing the back of her chair and pulling it further from Sky.

  “Oh, he’s your husband now? Since when? We all know you’d fuck anyone else but him.” She turned and laughed in his face, waiting for his comeback. Did Sky really have to tell everyone they had not slept together? Storm turned to glare at his husband, but saw the shame and pain coursing his face and relented.

  ‘That is none of your fucking business, you heartless bitch. Move now or I’ll drag you by the hair.”

  For once Cloud did as she was told. As Storm sat down, a servant came in, announcing the king and queen had already had breakfast but would join them all at the feast tonight. Another celebratory meal gathering all the noblemen in the city to eat, drink, and pretend to be in awe of Storm’s might. As if, after six—no, it was seven now—long years of conquering the entire world, anyone expected anything but a victory from him.

  Storm quickly sent a thank you to the gods. He couldn’t take his father’s presence so early in the morning and his wife was definitely too much at any time of day.

  The prince watched Sky pick at his food, rearranging it in his plate instead of eating. Sky’s breakfast consisted of two boiled eggs, cut into smaller bits, some cheese, and cucumbers. It wasn’t much, but it still looked like an effort for him to eat. Storm covered his eyes with his hand, suddenly feeling fresh anger bubbling just under the surface. He couldn’t believe how little care Sky had for himself. His appetite gone, he accepted the strong tea a servant poured him and drank it quietly.

  As he sipped his tea, taking it scalding hot, the pain of the burn lulled his fury enough that he didn’t do anything reckless. He hated Sera’s little tricks that had deceived him. He hated himself for not paying more attention to his husband. In truth, it had been too difficult. Storm had dreaded what he’d find out. Sky was closed off whenever Storm approached, and he always felt like he was banging his head against an unbreakable wall.

  “Aren’t you eating?” Sky asked in a weak voice. Storm’s eyes snapped at him, his eyebrow arching at the untouched food on his husband’s plate.

  “Aren’t you?”

  Sky picked up a piece of cheese and placed it in his mouth, chewing it vigorously. Storm wanted to scream at how slow and painful the whole process seemed. Instead he picked up a plate and filled it with an assortment of eggs and meats.

  Right after breakfast, Cloud managed to snatch Sky again, mumbling something about preparations for tonight’s feast needing their attention. They wanted to know what other plans for expansion Storm had. Storm wondered what they’d do when he reached the end of the world and subdued every land out there. Would that keep their greed at bay? He waved it off though, he was happy in battle. He loved the thrill, the roar of his army behind him, the exquisite taste of victory. As long as there was a war to rush into, he could deal with everything else.

  When Storm was finally done with his father, he was in no mood for a feast. The king had however insisted.

  “Storm!” his father yelled after him. Storm turned to see him frowning, more than he usually did, his lips pressed in a thin line, his fists clenched. “You will come tonight and you will meet everyone.”

  “Nothing will come of it, father.” Storm failed to shield the anger and discomfort he was feeling, no matter how hard he tried to keep his voice even.

  “Well, you’re fucking everyone but your husband, might as well take an official concubine and have some children,” the king said, placing a heavy hand on Storm’s shoulder. Storm was a foot taller than his father, yet he still felt the same pressure he did as a child when the king was squeezing him like that, his dark brown eyes boring into Storm’s.

  “I will never do that to Sky,” Storm said, clenching his teeth and forcing himself not to slap his father’s hand away.

  “Oh, you wouldn’t do what your duty as a future king requires, but you would have him looked at as if he were diseased by the entire capital? You should hear the whispers.” The king shrugged, a touch of honesty in his features. “Maybe young ones would distract him as well, not just your concubine.”

  Storm squinted and frowned, taking one step closer to his father. “How do they know?” he hissed.

  “Servants, boy. They talk. Everyone here knows you’ve never touched Sky. I can’t for the life of me understand why you insisted on marrying him.” The king turned away and left Storm standing there.

  “I will meet whoever you pulled out of your imaginary breeding pens, but I am not doing this to Sky, ever!” He turned and stomped away, heading for his chambers. He hoped to find Sky there
and talk to him before everyone showed up for this festive dinner. A little warning would probably help his husband through the feast. Even if nothing but Sky’s ego would be hurt, he should be warned a horde of women were about to throw themselves at Storm.

  Storm found their chambers deserted, so he started searching. A young girl who was refreshing their flowers told him Sky had already left with Cloud. That bitch again! Growling, Storm bathed quickly and got dressed in the clothes that Sky had lain out on the bed for him. He smiled at the outfit, black leathers, boots, a pristine, white shirt and a dark red tunic with golden embroidery. Sky always chose clothes that made Storm look regal yet kept the warrior style he preferred and felt most at ease with.

  When Storm made it to the great entry hall, Sky and his family were already greeting guests. He walked behind Sky, wrapping his hands around his waist. His husband stilled and forgot what he was saying. Storm knew Sky hated to be touched by him, but tonight he needed to do it, show everyone he actually belonged to Sky and have them back off.

  “Oh, you’re not sitting with him,” Cloud said, grinning like a cat enjoying a canary’s sweet taste. Storm huffed and tried to follow his husband again, but his father gripped his hand and pulled him back.

  “You are sitting at my table and greeting your guests,” he hissed in his ear. The king and queen always sat at a separate table, one set on a pedestal, overlooking the rest of the dining hall. On display.

  “Not without my husband. I go where he goes,” Storm hissed back.

  “Storm! You will do as you are told.”

  Storm saw the vein on his father’s forehead pulsing, his lips trembling in rage, but knew he wouldn’t give in. “I married him, father, he’s not a dirty secret to hide. My husband will sit with me or I’ll follow him wherever he is.” Storm shook his father’s hand off and turned to face him, waiting for the king to decide. The king called one of the servants and had him fetch Sky.