Tiiran clutched at his robe where it fell over his heart but turned back to send a searching glance over the rest of Orin, nearly demanding he spin around so Tiiran could check all of him.
“Nothing to fuss over!” Tiiran said again, hating his chest for being tight and his words for shaking. “You’re injured. All of you. And you show up here still armed, as if you didn’t even stop to….” He drew in a breath to help him lower his voice, but didn’t stop himself from stretching onto his toes to better see the wound in question. That his gaze kept returning to Orin’s was Orin’s fault, but Orinwouldstare at Tiiran in that way of his.
Tiiran wrapped his hands around Orin’s forearm to steady himself. Orin took his weight easily, even smiling in a very foolish manner until Tiiran abruptly dropped back down to glare up at him.
“And let me lean on you when I don’t even know if you are injured further!” Tiiran scolded. “Did I hurt you?” He doubted Orin had noticed his weight in the slightest. Tiiran could stand on Orin’s feet and hold to his waist, and Orin could likely walk up all three levels of the staircase without being bothered. “You are giant, so you think yourself impervious to hurt, but that is simply not true, Elorin Vahti.”
“Ah, the full name comes out. You’re deeply worried.” As if reading Tiiran’s embarrassing thoughts and secret desires, Orin reached out to tug Tiiran forward by his robe. Tiiran found himself standing on Orin’s feet and then clutching his gambeson to stay in place—or, he would have needed it to stay in place if Orin hadn’t then wrapped his arms around him and held Tiiran though they were in the entranceway in full view of everyone.
Orin hadn’t even stopped to wash beyond perhaps seeing that the cut on his cheek was clean. He and the others must have hurried here, which seemed something to think over, but his hold on Tiiran was steady and he did not relax it until Tiiran sucked in an unsteady breath and then let it out and sagged against him.
“There we are,” Orin murmured above him. “We will deal with that distress of yours later. For now, I am here, and I have you.”
Tiiran frowned but there was no force in it. He did feel better like this, even though Po and the others could see, and he didn’t know if the warmth was still in Nikoly’s eyes, and Orin remained stitched and bruised.
“Youare hurt,” Tiiran complained quietly to Orin’s chest. “It shouldn’t be about what I feel.”
“Kitten, I could be bleeding out, and if you asked me to steady you, I would do my best.”
Tiiran growled. “I didn’t ask you to—bleeding out?” He forced himself back and out of Orin’s arms, up on his toes again in moments to wave a finger in Orin’s face—as close as he could get to it. “None of that horseshit, Orin. I mean it. You will not bleed out, ever, for any reason.” Not even the surprised hunger in Orin’s eyes could deter him; if Orin needed food but Tiiran would see him fed shortly. But it could wait.
“Peace, buzzing bee.” Orin grasped Tiiran’s finger before bowing his head and bending to get closer to Tiiran’s level.
“Why am I a bee to everyone now?” Tiiran complained loudly. “I don’t call you a foolish bear.”
“You could,” Orin replied, apparently content to keep Tiiran’s finger. “Foolish, I certainly can be. Though I don’t know aboutbear. I think I’m fairly reasonable in temperament.”
“I meant your size and you know it.” Tiiran huffed. “That wound is not from a careless misstep or a scratch from a thorny hedge.” He took a better look at the hand holding his, then growled again. “Your knuckles are bruised too! What happened? Did you even see healers before you came here, or did one of your friends stitch you? Orin!”
“We will see healers soon enough,” Orin assured him, then lowered his voice, his expression serious. “We weren’t trying to attract attention. We only wanted the reports filed.” He held Tiiran’s gaze until Tiiran settled. “Which they have been. So the others will leave soon, unless one of your friends chooses to entertain them. Though with the pain Yala is in with her shoulder…”
“Orin.” Tiiran cut him off again. “Just tell me for now: are you well? Truly?” That was a whisper.
“I’ve had worse in training bouts.” Orin likely thought this calming, so Tiiran chose to accept it for now. “And you? Is all this for me?”
“All what?” Tiiran glanced toward the doors, down to the rug and Orin’s dirty boots, away from the tables and the desk and the other outguards. Orin still held his hand. He wondered if Orin had forgotten. “Your friends will be well?” he wondered softly, darting a look up. “Do you tellthemto be careful too?” His tone was a little crisp.
“Iaskthat of everyone I care about.” The answer was unremarkable, even expected. It sparked a fire in Tiiran’s chest anyway, and the flames must have been visible. Orin held Tiiran’s gaze and arched one eyebrow. “Itellyou because it pleases you to be told, as it pleases me to do it.”
Pleasingagain.
Tiiran immediately let his gaze fall. “Even though I’m not…?”good. He swallowed the word, then tossed his head to banish his foolishness for now. Orin was still injured, and no matter what he might say, that was more important than Tiiran’s idiocy. “You’ve no reports of your own to turn in?”
Orin straightened, releasing Tiiran’s finger as he did. “No. I’m just making sure Yala’s report gets here, and was maybe hoping to catch a glimpse of you.” He flashed a smile when Tiiran frowned suspiciously. “I should rest and clean up properly. Then I will return, if it pleases you, scowling kitten.”
Tiiran gave him the scowl of a lifetime. “I don’t care about travel dust.”
Orin raised both eyebrows, a gentle smile at his lips despite Tiiran’s snippy tone. “You wish to know for certain that I am well?”
“I don’t wish anything!” Tiiran said too loudly, then felt his shoulders rise.
Orin took Tiiran’s hand, his whole hand and not just one accusing finger, and held it in both of his before putting it on his arm so that Tiiran’s hand rested at the crook of his elbow. “I can stay for a while, since you asked so nicely.”
“I didn’t…” Tiiran fell silent, then took a deep breath. “I want to know you’re all right. I need to know. And I’m… I’m upset.”Distressed, Orin had said. Tiiran thoughtupsetdid well enough.
He didn’t get a chance to fret over the choice to confess. Orin began to walk, one hand resting lightly over Tiiran’s to keep it on his arm. “Very good, kitten,” Orin told him, low so no one else would hear, although they would see Tiiran blush if they were still watching.
Chapter Eight
