The Earls had grown greedy and lazy since the time ages ago when the first Earl had put selfish, warring families in their place and subdued many of them before claiming that title.Earl. A name taken from the fae, Fen thought, because in the oldest stories, in the tales of when the fae had walked among them, the fae had leaders like that, and titles, and roles to be played.
The fae must have approved of the first Earl. Fen didn’t know what the fae thought of the Earls now and some of the cruelty they were known for, and wasn’t sure about Race and Ati insisting the fae walked among them even if humans could not see them.
Because he could not sleep, he thought about it, and tried to remember the details about the fae from every story and song he’d heard as a child. There ought to be a way to find those stories again in case others had questions like he did. People from different territories might even have different versions, and he’d like to know how the fae had helped that first Earl, or shown their favor or disfavor.
The fire went low and the camp grew quiet except for the distant sound of the night watch murmuring to the dogs. Fen turned and turned again in his bed of leaves, looking up toward where the sky should be and seeing only darkness.
He must have slept, because he woke abruptly, his jaw clenched against the cold, his body protesting how he had finally taken Dol’s advice and had hot teas before retiring. He made his way to the edge of the camp to take care of that, wincing for every snapped twig or leaf beneath his feet. A Val guard in scale armor could move with less noise than Fen. He had not yet figured out how to move as quietly as some of the others.
He made his way back around the dying fire and was settling onto his mattress of moss as silently as he was able when a long sigh stopped him. He turned his head to squint at the shape of a large body on the ground not far from him. There had been no one there hours ago when Fen had first gone to bed.
“You are waking others.” Lan’s whisper carried to him but probably no farther.
Fen immediately finished lying down, turning onto his side so he wouldn’t be caught staring in case Lan saw better in the dark than he did. The moss had lost whatever warmth it had held from Fen’s earlier rest and he shuddered at the cold but stiffly stayed put.
Another long sigh followed the first. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Earl’s cub.”
Fen had a moment to grapple with the fact that perhaps he didn’t hide his reactions as well as he thought because, here, unlike in The Acana’s household, these people paid attention to him. Then he shook the thought away to try to force himself to relax.
He shifted and dry leaves crackled under his legs. He winced and stopped again. If he held still long enough, Lan would go to sleep andthenFen could worry about getting warm enough.
“How cold does it get in The Acana’s holding?” Lan’s voice was even quieter than before, wisps of words reaching Fen’s ear. “Not very, I’m guessing.”
“Sorry.” Fen rubbed the tip of his nose although his hands were not much warmer. “I’ll get better.”
“Do you keep to your room and a fire all winter?” Lan continued as if Fen hadn’t spoken but gave Fen no chance to admit to it. “Hold still,” he ordered, then must have moved without making a sound. Fen startled at the sudden heat at his back and the exhale that stirred his hair.
Lan could not be far from him, less than the breadth of one of Fen’s hands, if that, but he left Fen untouched.
“Many in the camp choose to sleep like this to make the nights easier,” Lan whispered when Fen said nothing. “You’re not alone in feeling the cold.”
Fen only shivered more. “Sorry.”
A soft weight landed on him, a blanket, he realized, his mouth falling open with surprise.Lan’sblanket, which Lan arranged over Fen before falling back into the moss behind him.
“Your blanket?” Fen croaked, not a trace of honey to be heard.
“I’ve had a long day. Share the warmth or don’t, Earl’s cub. I need my rest.” Lan twitched the blanket farther over Fen one last time, then exhaled heavily, stirring Fen’s hair again.
Except for his shivers, Fen could not move. Lan breathed regularly behind him as if this wasn’t unusual. Because many others in campdidshare warmth at night in this way. But not Lan as far as Fen knew, and if so, not with Fen. He could barely look at Fen.
“You’ve somehow grownmoretense,” Lan observed after a while, when he should have been deep in sleep. He did sound exhausted, his voice rough with strain that Fen was partly the cause of.
“I’ve never shared a bed before,” Fen confided, his hand before his mouth to make sure the words stayed between them. Although Lan might tell his advisors later. Fen couldn’t help that.
Lan said nothing now. His breath did not touch Fen’s hair.
“Out of choice?” he asked carefully after an untold amount of time had passed. “Should I return to my own bed?”
Fen shook his head, certain that would be understood. “I don’t know what to do. You’ll have to tell me. Should I move closer?”
“Fuck,” Lan said, clear and distinct. Then, lower and gentler despite his obvious surprise, he added, “You want to?”
“I am not afraid of you, not how an Earl’s son should be at least.” Heat was beginning to creep into Fen’s shoulders. He wanted to tug the blanket tight to him but there was not much of it to spare, not unless he scooted back, so he did, stopping when his backside brushed some part of Lan.
They stayed that way, silent, Fen stiff even as his shivers left him, his face embarrassingly hot, and then because he had not been told to stop and he’d seen others sleeping far more closely than this, Fen slowly continued to curl against Lan’s body.
“Did you leave me that porridge this morning?” Fen wondered aloud. He didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one. But an arm dropped over his side, as heavy as Fen remembered it when Lan had first carried him. He supposed Lan had nowhere else to put that arm, but it felt good over his waist. His body gave one violent shiver before it accepted Lan’s warmth. The chest behind him rose and fell unevenly. Fen tensed again. “This is good?” he asked, uncertain.
