by S. S. Skye
He looked back and the battle was now upon them, ragged brigands coming out of the shadows with weapons raised. Ignifer was there to meet them, wheeling his horse to put himself between the thieves and Edander, and deflecting the first attacks with ease. Edander turned away, oddly warmed even in the middle of battle by how natural it seemed for Ignifer to do so. He shifted his attention to the plant mage, just visible behind a wall of saplings, and readied his whip of flames.
He dismounted, shooting small spurts of flame to lick at the vines that kept the wagons immobile and using his fire ropes to snag any vine that moved to attack any of the humans. He was focused on the mage, though; her gaze locked with his through the young trees, fury in her movements as she called up more plants around her.
Edander let his ropes dissolve, calling most of his power to the surface, and feeling the familiar tightness that came from thoroughly exercising it. The wall of greenery in front of him was impressive, but his shoulders ached with the tension of keeping his magic in check, and as he released his hold, the wall blazed.
It took only moments to reduce the plants to little more than cinders, the mage standing terrified in the middle of the falling ashes. She offered her hands in surrender, pupils blown wide in fear as she stared at him.
There was a scuff behind him, and he turned to find Ignifer picking his way over hacked up plants and a couple of vines that looked like they’d been frozen to the ground. He was holding a hand to his side but seemed otherwise unscathed, eyes bright in the darkness. "Alright there?"
Edander brought up a palm-sized fireball, shedding a bit of light on the scene and taking in the devastation of the caravan, goods and plants and canvas from the wagons all trampled in the mud. "Fine. Did we lose anyone?"
Ignifer came closer, looking him over in the flickering light. "Two of the bandits. A couple from the caravan are wounded, but they’ll recover. No serious injuries for the Conservatory party. The caravan’s leader says they can manage if we ride ahead and let them know we’re coming. We’ve got some prisoners to take back with us too; the others are securing the bandits. If you’ll bring their mage, we can see about getting some supper finally." His stomach rumbled, mud splatters cracking as he grinned. "Come on, then."
The ride back to the castle was uneventful, the robbers oddly subdued, though the mages sitting with them on the horses certainly helped. It wasn’t until they dismounted that Edander noticed anything was amiss.
It was only a small stumble as Ignifer gained his feet, but Edander didn’t miss that or the warrior’s slight wince. "Ignifer…?"
"I’m fine, really. It’s not too deep, and I’ll heal soon enough." Ignifer moved gingerly even as he headed toward the Conservatory.
"Not at all an acceptable answer," the mage informed him, clasping his elbow gently and steering him toward the infirmary. He nodded cordially to the nurses as they walked in, leading Ignifer to an empty bed and pointing at it imperiously. He’d spent some time in here, learning what he could to augment his natural healing abilities, and finding his way around was easy.
What was not easy was getting Ignifer to cooperate. "I really don’t need to be healed you know. I’ll be perfectly fine if you’ll just—"
"Take your shirt off and lie down," Edander demanded, exasperated, as he tried to coax Ignifer back into the bed for the third time. He leveled a leering Ignifer with an unimpressed look and pinched him lightly. "I can purify the wound and then start the sealing process, at least."
With a beleaguered groan not out of place in a theatre drama, Ignifer flopped back, allowing Edander access to the cut low on his abdomen that only sluggishly bled now. With steady fingers on either side of the wound, Edander pulled up his power, burning away any chances of infection and slowly binding the flesh together.
"What am I supposed to do when they insist I have to lie in this bed all day? If they make me stay in here my entire two weeks, it will be entirely your fault and I’ll be very put out," Ignifer said, in something that was certainly not a whine.
Edander smiled, still more focused on Ignifer’s wound than his words. "I will come and keep you company during the day. Will that suit you? I can at least share your misery that way."
Ignifer grinned at him. "Would you really do that? I’m sure I could manage to be a good patient if I weren’t bored."
Edander didn’t say anything, but he raised a skeptical eyebrow at the warrior. In his experience, no grown man made a good patient, regardless of circumstances.
*~*~*
The next morning proved that to be true, but Ignifer had a way of making the whole thing almost charming. For the next seven days, Edander would show up in the morning to find him already expectantly sitting up in bed, trying to wave away the nurses who attempted to fuss over him and convince them that he was well enough to be let out of bed. They clucked a bit before strutting off, giving Edander frighteningly appraising looks every time he showed up.
"I think they might be plotting something," he told Ignifer on the eighth morning, taking a seat on the edge of the bed so the warrior’s body heat surrounded him. "Are you milking this whole thing? Because they give me the most suspicious looks, I swear, and I’m just sure it’s somehow your fault."
Ignifer grinned at him. "I don’t know what you mean. Mostly. I think they might kick me out soon. I’m well enough now."
Edander rolled his eyes, nonchalantly looking up at the ceiling. "You know, no one knows why you’ve stopped here. Obviously to rest, but it seems you’ve got a rather serious destination in mind, based on those maps and journals you had me bring you." He didn’t look at Ignifer, just kept his eyes trained upwards, but Edander felt him stiffen minutely.
He nearly jumped when Ignifer started speaking, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "There’s a war. It’s been building for some time, on the southern border of the kingdom which borders this one. The people there are restless and seek more land, and I’m on way to my homeland, to help defend it. It’s been hard travel, and I’ve been playing messenger along the way for the furthest reaches of our allies, but it won’t take much longer until I join our forces properly. But let’s talk about something else; I’ve only a week left before I head out, and I don’t want to spend it brooding."
His shoulder bumped Edander’s, and Edander turned to look at him, brows furrowed. "The ice mages have started attacking? My family hasn’t said anything. How far north has it spread?"
Ignifer looked surprised. "It’s still mostly on the southern border. Are you not from this kingdom?"
"No. This was just the nearest school to home. I… can you tell me more? Please. The Conservatory doesn’t care much for news of the outside world, and I must know." Ignifer’s brows crinkled in concern, but he nodded slowly.
For the rest of the morning, the warrior explained the war in full, and more besides, the politics and trivialities that the Conservatory never dealt with. Neither noticed as the nurses quietly slipped away, leaving them alone in the infirmary, heads bent together in discussion.
*~*~*
On his last morning, Ignifer found him in the training courts, going through a staff drill to keep himself limber. They hadn’t talked much in the past two days, the Chancellor anxious to give Ignifer a proper send-off, and the professors desperate for him to choose one of their pupils as bondmate before he left. Their talk in the infirmary had stayed fresh in Edander’s mind, though, and he’d been waiting for the opportunity to talk to Ignifer alone.
"I want to fight in the war."
He didn’t stop his routine, just called it over his shoulder as he twisted. He missed the look of mild panic on Ignifer’s face. "What do you mean, you want to fight in the war?"
Edander stopped, staff held loosely in his hand. "What do you think I mean? It’s my country, too, and I intend to defend her against all and sundry. And why shouldn’t I?"
"Why should you? You’re safe here, and your family isn’t in harm’s way. There are men aplenty to fight, and y
ou could stay here, continuing your studies." There was no sign of Ignifer’s customary grin and without it, his scars looked like they weighed his face down.
Edander’s grip tightened. "So it’s alright for you to go off and fight, but I should be a good boy and stay at school?" he demanded angrily. "Why won’t you ask me to go with you? I thought we fought well together. Certainly we’d make good traveling companions. And I’m a grown man on top of that, not a boy who needs to be sheltered from war, and I think you know that too. So what’s really staying your hand?"
"I can’t in good conscience take someone from this Conservatory and expose them to the battlefield. What kind of man would that make me?" Ignifer asked, a touch desperately.
"Have I proven incapable of defending and caring for myself? I had thought I’d proved to be rather useful." Edander hoped he didn’t sound as hurt as he felt, but he rather doubted it. He twirled the staff angrily a few times, trying to release some sort of anger in the hand-over-hand motion.
"I didn’t say you couldn’t handle yourself, though that staff is another matter," Ignifer bit out, throat working.
"What exactly are you saying?" Edander demanded, fingers flexing around the staff.
"That your technique needs work," Ignifer shot back glibly. "But also that I’d like to ask you to accompany me, but for entirely selfish reasons. I won’t pretend that the war needs you, because it’ll hardly turn on the presence of one man, and our numbers are steadily growing. I want to ask because I’ve been looking for years for the right bondmate – for someone I could trust at my back any time I went into battle and with whom I could share a fire in times of peace—and I think you have, too. You’re the only one I’ve ever felt might suit me, even if we’ve only known each other a few weeks, and it’s all I’ve been able to manage not to ask you." He paused, seeming a little winded. "Did you want to say something now?"
"To be clear, you’re asking me to be your bondmate?" Edander was slightly overwhelmed, because this wasn’t at all how he’d ever imagined this would happen.
"Well I was trying not to, but since you’ve forced my hand, then I may as well say that I’ll take whatever I can get. If we suit as bondmates, then I’ll accept that. If more should come of it, I will be nothing but content.” He paused, just a hint of a smirk hovering on his lips. “Tell me the thought has not once crossed your mind that we might suit each other on many levels." For a battle-marked warrior, Ignifer was surprisingly capable of earnestness.
"I haven’t thought about it," Edander started steadily, continuing before Ignifer could interrupt. "Just once. It was nearly all I could think about two nights ago when we sat together at your departure banquet. What if I go with you and we don’t fit after all, though?" He wanted to smack a hand over his mouth, but he needed to ask.
The side of Ignifer’s mouth curled up. "Then I have a bondmate with whom I would not at all mind spending the rest of my life fighting side by side. I would say that still seems a fair bit better than many expect. Is that answer enough for you?"
Edander’s expression didn’t change. "I think you’d better kiss me now."
Ignifer’s brows shot up, and he looked slightly taken aback. Now fighting to keep his straight face, Edander explained, "If we’re traveling across the border, we’ll be visiting my family and if I’m going to be introducing the man who might one day become my lifemate, then I’m certainly going to make sure I can tell my sister that you can kiss better than what’s-his-name that she stole from me when we were thirteen."
The look that overtook Ignifer’s face was a cross between stifling laughter and smiling fondly. With obvious effort, he schooled his features, settling for a smile that teetered on a grin. He stepped in close, enveloping Edander in warmth and forcing him to tip his head back to meet his gaze.
The kiss was affectionate, firm and warm, and Ignifer’s hands settled on Edander’s hips before he took the kiss deeper. Edander let the staff drop at his side and smiled into the kiss, swamped in heat inside and out in a way he didn’t think he ever had before.
An interminable time later, Ignifer pulled back, inarguably grinning now. "So what do you have to tell your sister?"
Edander met his grin with a smirk. "Well, your technique needs work." He laughed as Ignifer wrinkled his nose. "But I suppose we’ve got time for that, haven’t we?"
A speculative light entered Ignifer’s eyes as he gave Edander a rather wicked smile. "I’ll just have to distract her by asking for embarrassing tales from your childhood." He grinned boyishly then, nearly vibrating from excitement. "Now, let’s go pack!" Ignifer turned on his heel and started from the training court.
"I’m starting to rethink this whole thing!" Edander called after him, jogging to put his staff away.
"No, you’re not," he heard from the hallway.
"I could be."
Edander couldn’t stifle his smile as Ignifer’s head popped back into the room, expression serious and a touch worried. "Are you?"
Edander smiled teasingly. "No. But I could be."
Ignifer was already gone again, singsong voice filtering back. "But you’re not. And now it’s too late. You’re coming."
He stared down the hallway for a moment at the warrior’s retreating back. It was too late now. He couldn’t stay even if he wanted to, not with a war threatening his homeland, and not with the offer of a bondmate, especially with the chance for more. He wouldn’t be able to easily forget how nice that warmth felt, and if the stars were in his favor, he wouldn’t have to.
Edander smiled as he finally started down the corridor. It’s a new year, he thought to himself. Everything’s going to be different.
About the Author
Skye is an engineer moonlighting as an author, filling the margins of her notebooks with fluff and stuff. She’s been writing m/m and f/f romance (with a few dalliances with m/f) since discovering it in eighth grade, due in no small part to the founders of Lt3. She’s delighted to be able to share the fruits of many nights interrupted by inspiration and many hours she should’ve been studying, and is speechlessly ecstatic to be doing so among authors of such a high caliber.
Every week, she tries to further hone her fluff ‘n stuff skills by writing short ficlets for the Sunday Snuggles community. Further works by her can be found at the following:
http://skeptics-secret.livejournal.com/ and http://sundaysnuggles.livejournal.com/tag/author%3A%20skeptics_secret
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Book Details
The Warrior
About the Author
