Quaint Escapes For Traitorous Bastards: Ch. 14 Pt. 1

 Notes: We've gone hurt, now let's go comfort! Can't forget that this is COZY, DAMN IT!!!

 Title: Quaint Escapes For Traitorous Bastards: Ch. 14 Pt. 1

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Chapter Fourteen

 

Quiet and Soft

 

Smell was always the first thing to come back to Hiram after he overextended himself. Not sight; not with his aching eyes. Nor hearing; nothing to shock his already shocked brain. Nothing that required him to think, and nothing that pricked his sensitive skin. Just something that soothed him down to the deepest reaches of his memory, in this case—lemonmint tea.

Lemonmint. It was a ubiquitous herb, hearty enough to grow in the harshest of environments. Even the high mountain villages and the roughest desert climes had periods where native lemonmint grew. It was so pervasive and hard to kill that many people in more benevolent climates ceased to use it at all, considering it a “common” flavor, too mundane to be worth the time to clean, dry, and use in scented sachets or teas, but those who lived at the edge of the extreme knew that lemonmint helped keep your teeth in your head, reduced the duration of seasonal sicknesses, and drove insects away from your food storage jars. Hiram had grown up drinking it every morning and evening, and he always associated it with comfort.

His chest rose and fell deeper than before, unconsciously heightening his experience of the pleasant scent. It drew him out of the darkness of his exhaustion and illness and back to reality. And reality, in this case, was a deliciously dim room with only a bit of light coming from the embers in the fireplace. The windows were dark but uncovered, so it had to be night, and…

Where was he? This wasn’t his home. It wasn’t Tilda’s either; he’d been there often enough to know it now. This seemed new, and yet it wasn’t. There was only one chair where there should be two, for starters.

Wait.

Hiram painstakingly turned his head to the left and saw a man moving in front of a simple black stove, stirring something that Hiram couldn’t make out from his angle. He could only see the man’s back, but after a moment the memory of this place came back, a trickle turned to a flood.

“Avery.”

Avery Surrus turned with a sharp exhale, his eyes wide as he stared at Hiram. He looked rather the worse for wear, with fresh lines of fatigue on his face and stooped shoulders that spoke of fatigue. But his sudden smile was almost blindingly beautiful. “Hiram!” His voice was soft but enthusiastic, and he left the spoon he was holding on the stovetop as he came over to the—cot, it was a cot, Hiram realized. The other chair had been moved to make way for a cot. For him.

Oh, what a mess.

“You’re awake.” Avery pulled the chair over to his bedside and sat down, one hand reaching for Hiram’s forehead as the other took his wrist, fingertips light on his pulse point. “Finally. I was beginning to think I needed to contact a healer after all.”

Ugh. Hiram was grateful that no one from the Temple of Melemor had seen him like this, but there was so much more he needed to know. “How…ah…” How in the etherium had he even gotten here?

“Narion found your mount,” Avery said, correctly interpreting Hiram’s mumbling. “Or rather, it found him, I think. He surmised that something had happened to you along the road, and he asked me to look into it.”

“Just you?” Hiram clarified.

“Mmhm.”

Well, that was good. The fewer people who knew he’d…whatever he’d done, the better. “What then?”

“I found you just where your mount led me,” Avery said. “I tried, but I couldn’t wake you; you were completely unconscious, but you didn’t seem injured in any way, just exhausted. I made a makeshift litter and brought you back here to recover. Narion took your mount to Mistress Tate for safekeeping, I believe.”

All right, so at least one more person knew something was amiss. Damn it. “I’m surprised she’s not banging your door down.”

“Narion was able to forestall her for the time being.” Avery smiled faintly. “They both know how I value my privacy.”

Oh, of course he did. Hiram flexed his toes and fingers searchingly—no unusual levels of pain down either limb. He ought to be able to move. “I can be out of your way in a—”

“No!” Both of them winced at his sudden volume, and Avery made an effort to lower his voice as he continued. “It’s late, and you’ve only just woken up. You might as well stay the night now. We can think about you leaving tomorrow.”

Tomorrow… “How long have I been here?”

“Not even a full day,” Avery assured him. “It took about twelve hours to get home from where I found you. We arrived here early this morning, and you slept through it all. I got you set up in here, made sure you weren’t in dire straits, and…” He shrugged. “I’ve been waiting ever since, making sure you weren’t spiking a fever and getting you to drink a bit of water here and there.”

That was fortunate. It struck Hiram that he could, in fact, have died out there in the woods if Mule hadn’t shown such tenacity. He’d been…he’d been…

New memories rushed in, and Hiram groaned and clutched at his head as the influx threatened to overwhelm him. Garrison, the seeking, the obscuration, the wizards…damn it, damn it! His entire existence was threatened because he’d handled those damn gnolls, of all the ridiculous, confounded, useless—

“Breathe,” Avery pleaded, and Hiram realized he was gasping, becoming light-headed. “Breathe, Hiram, it’s all right.” He laid a warm hand on Hiram’s chest. “Steady, steady…in like me.” He modeled a gradually slowing pace, and Hiram was able to gather enough of the tatters of his ability to think back into his mind and mimic his host. Eventually the pain from the memories faded, and he was left feeling no worse for the knowledge. More morose, absolutely, but the headache subsided fast.

“Well, hells,” he managed.

Avery chuckled with relief as he sat back, casually holding one of Hiram’s hands between his own. It felt like wearing a warm, soft mitten. “Are you well?”

“I’ll survive.” As long as I’m careful. Gods, I’m going to have to be so careful now. Maybe he ought to take this as a sign that it was time to go, actually. He’d lasted almost two months in Lollop, not a tenth of what he’d hoped for, but…

“Good.” Avery looked down, and the light was dim but Hiram could still make out the stain of a blush on his cheeks. “I can’t tell you how worried I was for you. It doesn’t, um, paint me in a particularly calm and collected light.”

“I think saving my life paints you in a very good light,” Hiram said honestly.

“You’re generous.” Avery shook his head. “The truth is, I don’t do well in emergencies. I tend to lose my head when things get out of hand. I haven’t slept since I brought you here; I’m surprised I didn’t wake you up earlier with all my pacing.”

That was an enlightening confession in multiple ways. “You could have given me over to Tilda,” Hiram offered. “I’m sure she’d have accepted the burden of caring for me.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Avery closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “If I’d let you out of my sight, it would have been even worse,” he said, quiet and careful and so fearfully truthful it made Hiram’s heart ache in response. In a good way, though. “I—do you—”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.” Hiram managed a little smile. “Or anyone I’d rather be with.” It was true, he realized; he was comfortable here, happy to be in the company of a person he admired and was beginning to feel…things for. Whether those stirrings would ever amount to love was another story, but he would give Avery what he had. It wasn’t much.

Avery didn’t seem to mind, if the grin that split his handsome face was any indicator. “Good.” They looked at each other in perfect understanding for a moment before he continued, “Would you care for something to eat? Or perhaps some tea?”

Hiram’s mouth watered at just the thought of it. “Tea, please. With—”

“With a little bit of honey,” Avery said. “I remember.” He got up, but only so he could lean forward and help Hiram into a sitting position, scooting him along the cot until his back rested against the wall. The stone should have chilled him, but he was still cozily warm. He glanced down at himself and realized he was wearing a thick woolen sweater that he was positive didn’t belong to him. A deeper sniff told him it belonged to Avery, faintly redolent of cedar and a hint of musk.

He glanced up at Avery and had the delight of watching him blush again. “You were shivering, and all your things were damp,” he muttered. “Let me just—”

Hiram set a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, freezing him in place. “Thank you,” he said. “Truly. You’ve done such a good job taking care of me, I feel very fortunate.”

“Anyone would have,” Avery mumbled, unable to tear his eyes away.

Hiram shook his head. “I think you and I both know that’s not true.” He held Avery’s gaze a moment longer, then let go. “I would love some tea.”

“I—yes, I have tea, let me get it.” He went over to the stovetop and came back with two familiar mugs, one for each of them. The heat of the steeping brew had bled through the ceramic, and it was a delight to hold. The taste was perfection, citrus and mint softened with the delicious floral sweetness of the honey, and he exhaled happily after his first sip.

They took their first few sips in silence, then Avery said, “You won’t believe the news I heard on the road when I was coming to get you.”

I’m afraid I would. But there was no polite way to get out of listening other than falling asleep, and Hiram wanted to at least get through one cup of tea before he did so. “Tell me.”

“Word from Garrison is that a pair of dangerous bandits were remanded to the city in chains, and no one knows who did it.”

“How fortunate for Garrison.”

Their eyes met again, and Hiram steeled himself against the questions he could see in Avery’s face. He couldn’t tell him the truth, he couldn’t, not if he wanted to survive, but…he owed Avery some truth, at least. If he pressed…Hiram would try to answer honestly.

But he surprised Hiram once more. “Fortunate indeed,” was all he said, then sipped his tea like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Oh. Oh, dear. There’s a fearfully good chance I could fall in love with this man. And Hiram wasn’t sure he was strong enough to guard his heart against it.