“The weather is warming. He should have said something during the winter. Feral creature probably slept in the library when it was coldest. The library gets fuel for the fireplaces.” Orin did not sound pleased.
“I will take care of that too,” Nikoly said crisply. Evidently, he was also displeased with Tiiran.
The rest area for the assistants was perfectly fine as a place to sleep on cold nights. Tiiran wasn’t the only assistant to think so.
“Him and Mattin together.” Orin grunted, making Tiiran twitch guiltily. “They encourage each other.”
“When Tiiran has less to do and think about, he will doubtless turn his attention to Mattin.” There was a pause. “Mattin is pretty.”
“Don’t worry, pup.” Orin puffed out a laugh. “You’re still the prettiest. Anyway, if Tiiran and Mattin truly wanted each other, they would have snuck off to a cubby long ago.”
Tiiran frowned over that, although his frown eased away at the idea of kissing Mattin somewhere in the depths of the library. He didn’t feel hot and mindless as he did about Orin or Nikoly, but he did grow warmer.
The dull clatter of dishes and crockery startled him from the daydream, although it was nearing evening, or perhaps was already night; Tiiran didn’t want to turn to look at the window either.
His body was heavy, his blood humming. His limbs had seemed to float above him for a while, yet the throb of his behind, while muted, was ever-present. It beat in time with his heart, which was a strange way to think about an ass… or a heart, he supposed.
“Awake a bit, are you, kitten?” Orin asked quietly from very close. Tiiran cracked his eyes and obediently tipped his head back so Orin could give him some water to drink. Orin had done that a few times already, so it must have been important. He let Tiiran rest again afterward, his approval a comforting weight even when he was some distance away.
“I’d tell you there’s no need and you don’t have to, but you’ll do as you please.”
“It’s my pleasure, yes.”
The two of them were a steady, easy hum, softer, then louder, then quiet for long enough for Tiiran to doze again.
The sound of a door being closed brought his head up, then got his eyes open, although it went unnoticed by the two across the room.
Orin was in the room’s only chair in front of the empty fireplace, an open book resting upside-down over one knee, his head angled toward Nikoly, who must have just come into the room. When Nikoly had left it, Tiiran had no idea, but assumed it had been to return their tray and dishes to the kitchens, because a visit to the kitchens was evident in the bowl he held out for Orin.
“The leftover buns from this morning’s bake,” Nikoly said in the especially sweet tone he used when bringing Tiiran food when he felt Tiiran needed to eat and not when Tiiran had mentioned being hungry.
Orin’s eyebrows were high. Surprise made him slow to take the bowl, but Tiiran noted he didn’t refuse it.
“Thank you.” Orin caught off guard was a sight worth Tiiran keeping his eyes open. Orin’s expression was both annoyed and astonished. “But I would have been fine.”
Tiiran, waking up that much more, abruptly remembered that Orin had probably not stopped for long, if at all, at the barracks before coming to the library. And, well, he was bear-sized, and likely had a bear’s appetite to match. Whatever he’d eaten for dinner had probably not been enough.
“Outguards might be used to temporarily going without,” Nikoly was quietly smug, “but there’s no need while you’re here. You could have asked for more food.”
He sat on the edge of one of the unused beds, which he or Orin must have dragged closer to the fireplace. His smugness undoubtedly grew when Orin began to eat like the starving giant he was, but Tiiran couldn’t blame him. If anything, he owed Nikoly his thanks as well for pointing out that Orin had likely gone hungry many times waiting for Tiiran.
Foolish, but that was Orin when he got an idea in his head.
Orin finished the first slightly stale bun in three bites, then stopped to consider Nikoly. Nikoly had removed his robe but was otherwise as neatly dressed as he might have been in the library.
“You don’t need to serve me.” Orin was speaking carefully, his gaze watchful now. Nikoly should take equal care, but Tiiran didn’t know if he would. “You’re not sworn to me. Or him,” Orin added thoughtfully, “but that’s a matter of time.”
Nikoly lowered head demurely. “You did a lot for us today. And you inhaled your dinner. I was concerned, which I am allowed to be.”
“Stubborn,” Orin muttered. Tiiran smiled to himself; he could have told Orin that. “Bet that made your training fun,” Orin observed, then had another bun. Tiiran was going to have to watch to make sure Orin ate more during his visits. That this would likely mean Tiiran also eating more should please everyone and possibly even make them be quiet about the subject.
“My education and training were a struggle, yes.” Nikoly’s back was to Tiiran, so Tiiran couldn’t see his face. “But nothing like what you did to Tiiran today.” Oh, he was amused, shivery mirth in his voice.
“That came later, in a much less formal setting?” Orin guessed, also amused. “Still, I don’t think a smacked bottom or some equivalent would do you any harm, should it ever be needed. Although a better punishment for you would be refusal of service.”
Nikoly started up from the bed, then clearly forced himself to sit back down.
Orin hummed. “But I would never do such a thing to someone like you unless I felt you truly needed it. Nor would I advise Tiiran to do so. He wouldn’t anyway; he dislikes seeing you unhappy. He doesn’t know what to do about it, but he dislikes seeing it.”
