He didn’t linger in the water, scrubbing up quickly to ensure he would hopefully still be presentable when he faced any villagers. He despaired of his hair, as he always did, for it had a life of its own. He dried it hastily and combed it with oil so it would stay malleable for a brief time, and then hurriedly divided it into two braids to rest down his back.
Pinned or braided into place, in dim lighting, Zelli’s hair might have been mistaken for dark red or even brown. But the moment it slipped free of any bindings and the light found it, it was the colors of a particularly fiery sunset. Orange, red, and yellow all together, with shades of purple and blue just starting to appear, curls and straight locks, fine and thick, like silk until it wasn’t. Fae hair. More obviously fae than anyone else’s hair in his family. Or maybe simply what happened when fae traits and human traits mingled to the degree that they did in Zelli.
Back in his room, he chose a hooded cloak to help him hide his wild mane, and swept what jewelry he owned into the pack, fastening the rowan tree pendant that he wore every day around his neck. He looked as respectable and dignified as he possibly could; the freckles that ran down his throat to his shoulders could be hidden, but not the ones across his nose. There was nothing to be done for that, or for the sharpness to some of his teeth, noticeable if he smiled widely or laughed, or for his eyes, which did not seem to stay one color.
It was when he was choosing layers to wear as Tahlen had suggested that Zelli paused to consider the possible problems of traveling with someone else—with Tahlen specifically—while being Zelli. That was to say, while being a Tialttyrin with more than a touch of the other world about him.
It had been months since any of Zelli’s other fae complications had popped up to bother him so he hadn’t factored them into his plans, except to vaguely consider the best excuses to make if anyone happened to witness anything. Grandmother knew and had stories ready. But out there in the valley, Zelli could hardly keep to his room for days at a time.
Perhaps, if something did happen, it might be better for Tahlen to be there. Zelli would face explanations that would make him cringe, but Tahlen could see that Zelli was undisturbed or return him to the fortress if need be.
Zelli shivered a little, not sure if he liked or disliked the idea of Tahlen seeing him altered, much less Tahlen touching him when he was like that, as Tahlen would have to in order to get Zelli back here. Zelli would humiliate himself, no question, and Tahlen likely would not react at all. That was good and also somehow terrible.
But it was not the lingering warmth from his bath that stung Zelli’s skin as he thought about it.
He did his best to banish the imaginary sensation of Tahlen’s hands on him and the crush of Tahlen’s disinterest, or disgust to see Zelli out of control. Zelli would worry about that only if his conditions showed signs of appearing, although it would be considerate to warn Tahlen of the possibilities before they left.
But that would raise two problems. One, Tahlen might decide not to let Zelli go, even though the risk was minimal and hardly life-threatening, and anyway, neither complication had happened in months. And two, it would be tricky to explain to Tahlen because it wasTahlen. Zelli would stare up at him and feel this… strong pain in the center of him… this inconvenient, aching, sorrowful spot in the middle of his chest that only made things worse, and if that happened, he would have no chance of convincing Tahlen of anything.
Really, it was some sort of fluke that Zelli had managed to get Tahlen to agree to even this.
He would tell Tahlen if the situation required it, he decided, because it wasn’t as if it was a total surprise… usually. As satisfied as he could be, Zelli finished dressing and stuffed his pack to the brim, including a handful of coins for those events in which he would be expected to hand over money.
He didn’t have much, personally, and could hardly approach the treasury for it now. But hopefully this would do for one attempted session of judgments and a few visits at waystations.
He paused before grabbing his quiver and arrows, only ever used in the practice yard, but since he didn’t have any other sort of skill with weaponry, he felt as if he should have something to make Tahlen less annoyed with him.
Then he pulled his hood up and left the room to head for the kitchens.
Zelli took paths that would keep him away from any guards and any questions they might have. He was so focused on that, in fact, that it didn’t occur to him why Tahlen would have suggested the kitchens for a meeting place until he got there and found some of the fires going and Tahlen’s sister working in front of them.
It was too late, or early, even for the bakers to be at work, which meant Tahlen had woken her and likely told her all. Love for Tahlen had probably kept her from going to Zelli’s grandmother with the knowledge, but the glance she shot Zelli when he stopped in front of one of the fires was all cold fury.
Esrin looked like she’d dressed quickly and in the dark, but Zelli did not comment on her sleep pants, though they were a pretty green. Her hair was a lighter brown than her brother’s, her skin much paler since she rarely seemed to leave the kitchens or even the fortress. Zelli didn’t know her age but suspected she was older than Tahlen from how she fussed over him, which was something he had seen some siblings do.
She wore a sheathed knife at her belt that was not used for cooking. Zelli had witnessed her using it in the sparring ring once or twice. He thought she’d wanted him to see her do it, although he couldn’t have said why she’d care enough to.
Maybe it was that Zelli was a beat-of-four and she didn’t like members of the old noble families. Esrin had never had much warmth for Zelli no matter how nice he tried to be, but in the past few months, her glares had grown so fierce that Zelli had started to avoid the kitchens altogether.
She said not a word to him now. After her frosty glare, she had returned to her task, which seemed to be preparing and packing up rolls and hand pies. Zelli watched her furtively, debating speaking to thank her or leaving her to her furious silence, but when she was done, she stalked over him and shoved several bundles into his hands, forcing him to drop his bow and quiver.
Esrin scoffed out loud to see them or for the noisy clatter they made on the floor when her every movement was quiet. Her gaze stayed on the packages, which she rearranged when they started to slip.
“You will make sure he eats, both on your travels and when you stop. He must rest too, do you understand?” She didn’t wait for Zelli to nod, although he did, forcefully. “Those pies are his favorites. They’re for him, not you, Mizel of the Tialttyrin. For you, there’s bread and cheese, as well as a few apples.”
“I thought Tahlen liked apples,” Zelli remarked foolishly, and blinked when Esrin raised her head—then lowered it—to meet his eyes.
She opened her mouth, but closed it and looked behind Zelli to someone coming in. It must have been Tahlen, but oddly, Esrin’s expression didn’t change. She still looked like she wanted an excuse to use her knife.
Zelli twisted around to make sure itwasTahlen, and released a small puff of air to find Tahlen in traveling clothes and armor, his hair once more in a braid. He had not chosen heavy armor or any of the more ornate guard equipment available to them, although his light, summer cloak would have the Tialttyrin rowan tree and grape vine embroidered in the center of the back.
His quilted doublet beneath his mail was dark and unassuming, and any shirts beneath that were not visible. He had arm guards, leg guards as well, which Zelli was willing to bet added warmth… but thought Tahlen should have chosen the winter cloak with the fur at the hood, just in case the weather turned.
He had not come armed into the kitchen, except for the practical knife tucked into his belt.
Zelli quickly looked up from Tahlen’s waist and realized his arms were still full of food. He cleared his throat and turned to try to figure out how to get some of it in his pack.
“Not surprised to see me?” he asked Tahlen.
