And yet Lan was not there. He had not come.
When the news from further south had finally reached them, Laiya had listened with her hands clasped so tightly together that the bones showed white. Tellan had smiled before abruptly turning to Fen with concern. Fen had put his head down and felt something not tender or warm, and then retired to his room.
In the weeks since then, rain and sometimes snow continued to fall, the land was mud and ice, and no more news reached them.
“It’s the fault of the weather,” Laiya murmured, seemingly from nowhere unless Fen had been too absorbed in his work to hear her first words. He looked up from his sewing. The others must have all left the room, but Laiya sat with Fen, busy with her long needles. “No one would travel in this. Not even Lan. And he likely needs rest. It was not an easy thing, what he did.”
“I’m worried,” Fen confessed, even that making his face hot. Fen’s mind showed him all the possibilities; Lan fighting off more Earls, stronger ones, when his forces were already tired. Lan choosing to leave Fen here. Lan gravely injured or dead.
“Well, worry never goes away.” Laiya finally looked up at that, her gaze sweeping over Fen’s reddened face and shiny nose that would have turned away even The Geon. The cold had given Fen a perpetual sniffle. “But if Lan said he would come, he will.”
Fen thought about asking her what would happen if Lan didn’t come. Or if he came and decided Fen was not that beautiful after all, or came merely to tell Fen he’d found someone who already knew what peace was and he would callthemcub.
In the end, Fen bent back over his work and said nothing.
Above the wind outside and the crackling of the fire in the keep’s great hall, children’s voices could be heard. Bridie, along with some of the youngest Maben and the cook’s daughter, were on a rug before the fire, squealing over poppets and carved wooden people and horses.
Maril was off the side, carving another toy with his youngest next to him. Tellan was at a small table, bent over a book and frowning. A guard stood at either end of the room, which was not a common occurrence but they had followed Laiya in earlier and stayed after Laiya had been called from the room.
Fen watched her go, then glanced to the guards, who had removed the scarves that many of the guards seemed to wear even with their armor, and were standing straighter. He didn’t know if Laiya had made scarves for all the guards meant to protect her and her family, but he thought she had. She was kind, but importantly, also wise enough to want those guards to think well of her.
Perhaps Fen would ask her more about Lan tonight if she stayed in the great hall after the children had been put to bed and they were alone, or nearly alone with only guards or Tellan for company. Tellan would think Fen was being silly, but he didn’t mind if she heard.
He didn’t get much more of a chance to think on the matter, because Laiya returned, the head of the kitchens behind her, both of them beaming.
Laiya called out to her daughter first. “Tellan! He is here at last! Oh, we’ll need more hot water,” she added distractedly to the head of the kitchens. “They will want to clean up, I’m sure, although I don’t know how many and it seems late for full baths. Full baths tomorrow, I think, unless the situation is dire. They’ll need to warm up. Fenwit!”
Laiya turned to Fen, who dropped his needle but didn’t look for it.
“At night?” Fen couldn’t seem to do anything but ask silly questions and sniffle. “In this?” It stormed outside, rain, though not snow, with plenty of thunder to alarm every child but Bridie.
“The guards ran it up once he was sighted at the gate. They are all on their way up now.” Laiya was beaming and her eyes were bright with tears. “We’ll need something quick for them to eat, and hot as well.” That was to the cook, who likely knew all that already but was nodding happily for Laiya’s sake. “Maril, dear, Heni is with him. At least they told me that much.”
Fen got to his feet after Maril hurried over to swing Bridie into his arms. Tellan left the room altogether, running toward the entrance to the hall, probably on her way to stare out into the rain for a glimpse of her siblings. The younger Maben were growing confused and slightly alarmed to see the adults acting that way. Fen was grateful for them.
“I’ll see them upstairs,” he explained quietly to others who were not listening. He went to the Maben children and had their little hands in his to lead them toward one of the staircases when Laiya said his name.
“Fenwit?”
“A moment for family,” Fen answered carefully, his throat tightening before he could say more. Lan had taken a long time to reach them, and it couldn’t all be because of the weather. It might be better to be away when Lan arrived, so that if Lan didn’t want him, or had come as he had promised but didn’t want to court Fen anymore, he would have time to inform Tellan, or perhaps Laiya, and they could tell Fen.
“Do you think he’s not going to want to see his flower?” Laiya asked, the question echoing through the hall.
Fen could not meet her eyes afterthat. Laiya almost certainly had heard the songs or been told of them. Had he known, Fen would have told her the songs were intended to help Lan, and apologized if the emotions in them had bothered her. Although Laiya clucked over crying children and bussed them with kisses, so perhaps like the rest of those from the North she didn’t mind open affections and wouldn’t have cared.
“Youare here,” Fen reminded her, suspecting that Lan’s mother saw through his composure as surely as Lan did. “This is his keep and his territory. It might have nothing to do with me. An entire winter has gone by since I’ve seen him.”
Laiya shook her head. “I don’t think my son is in any way a fool like his father. And even if he were, he would have waited to be a fool and traveled in better weather.” Her lips quirked when Fen wrinkled his brow. “But if you need a moment, you might go straighten up before you see him. Although I wouldn’t delay long if I were you. Not for someone who crossed the North in driving snow and icy wind just to lay eyes and hands on me again.”
Fen ducked his head again to show he’d heard her and that he’d be back down as soon as his heart was no longer racing. He walked the children up curving staircases to their rooms, leaving them to explain to their parents that the keep’s Earl, of a sort, had returned. He distantly wondered if any of the Maben would come downstairs to greet Lan tonight, or if they would return to their only barely abandoned sulking, but he forgot them the moment he was free to go to his room.
Lan’s room, he thought as he always did when he first entered it. It was larger than Fen needed, with a wide bed to fit someone Lan’s size. Fen slept on one side of it, the side nearest the fire, with furs piled against his back. He couldn’t sleep now, not knowing if he’d be permitted to stay or if his presence in this room would be allowed, but for pleasure only, if Lan still found him beautiful.
He rubbed his red nose to warm it, then remembered Laiya’s words and wished for a mirror as he never had in his life. Foolish. He had met Lan with leaves in his hair and torn clothing. Nothing Fen did now would make any difference.
But he stood there for several moments, then realized he was breathing hard. To give himself something to do, he dragged Lan’s comb through his hair. Unless he cut it, his hair would be long enough to wear in one big braid in a few months. For now, he put the front sections into two small braids and wore them pinned back at the crown of his head to keep his hair from his eyes as he worked. The style left his ears exposed.
Tellan had offered to pierce his ears nearly a month ago. Fen hadn’t liked the idea of pain, but they used ice to numb the skin first, so Fen had agreed. Now some of Lan’s old pieces decorated the shells. Tellan had assured him they looked wonderful, but Fen worried over them while he imagined he could hear noises from the great hall all the way up in Lan’s room.
