‘Yeah. I think it’s been happening for a while.’ Rory tore his eyes away from a bundle of shell-carved cooking tools and fixed on Neacel’s short blue hair. It occurred to Fionn that Neacel’s stature was quite different to all the other Minchmen Rory had seen from afar today.
Neacel held out his hand to shake Rory’s. ‘My name is Neacel. It’s a pleasure to welcome you into my home.’
‘It’s a very nice, uh, cave,’ Rory replied.
‘You speak DeepSong very well.’ Neacel sounded impressed.
Fionn’s pride over Rory inflated further. He was proud of him and proudforhim. Rory had come such a long way in such a short time. He was clearly a force to be reckoned with, whatever he might think of himself.
‘And what of your… personal connection?’ Neacel asked with a sly lifting of his eyebrows meant only for Fionn.
‘We’ve made much progress!’ Fionn gave an enthusiastic nod and wrapped an arm around Rory’s waist. Rory froze at first, much like a stunned seal upon spotting a predator’s shadow. For an instant he tried to pull away from Fionn, shrinking from the embrace.Not allowed,was the faint sense of meaning that flowed through the bond.
Fionn caught Rory’s eye, tried to send reassurance back. ‘Neacel is my friend,’ he said softly. ‘He will not judge nor disapprove of our union.’
Rory’s face coloured red while Neacel leaned forward with excited interest. ‘Your union?’
‘We have come to an understanding of one another’s affections and are committed to finding a path forward together,’ Fionn replied happily. Rory relaxed, just a smidgeon.
‘“Committed” is a new word for me,’ he mumbled under Neacel’s stare. He seemed embarrassed to say so out loud. ‘But sure. The heart wants what it wants and all that…’
Neacel broke into the widest smile. ‘I am so pleased for both of you.’ His song rang with such deep satisfaction that it prompted even Rory to quirk an inquisitive brow. Neacel chuckled, a little sheepish. ‘Can you blame me for living vicariously through your romance? I have hoped most dearly that your story would find a happy ending with someone you love, Fionn.’
Neacel’s words flooded Fionn’s heart with a new warmth.Someone I love,Fionn thought blissfully, looking at Rory.Someone I choose to love.
He felt Rory nestle closer to his side. An answering warmth trickled through the bond. It took all of Fionn’s self-control to not kiss Rory fervently in front of Neacel right there and then.
Despite his smile, some of the delight drained from Neacel’s face, replaced by a more pensive expression. ‘Fionn, does he know… everything? Your… situation?’
‘The arranged marriage thing?’ Rory answered bluntly. ‘Yeah, we covered it. I figured we’d just leave.’
Just as before, Fionn found his heart torn in half again by this proposal of Rory’s. On the one hand he was completely swept away by the idea of it, of swimming off into the unknown with Rory and leaving every single one of his troubles behind. But on the other hand, he couldn’t abandon his people to a fate shrouded in uncertainty. If he left without providing a conclusion to his betrothal, no one would know why he had disappeared. And there was no telling how the Redfolk would react to him simply running away like a coward.
‘It is more complicated than that,’ Fionn said slowly, putting great thought into each word. ‘If I were to disappear without explanation, it would cause serious offence to the Redfolk tribe.’
‘So what? Fuck ’em.’ The aggressive nature of Rory’s DeepSong was oddly endearing. His melodies often slipped up, charged with all the passion that he normally kept hidden away.
‘While I admire your conviction, I’m afraid I cannot match it. To snub the Redfolk would invite pain and suffering upon my people,’ Fionn explained. There was a stutter in the bond, a wavering of apprehension from Rory. Fionn jumped in quickly to assuage it. ‘But they cannot argue with a fated soul bond such as ours. We are certain this will nullify my betrothal.’
‘We have a plan,’ Neacel added eagerly. ‘Part of one, anyway. You must confront the Blue King together and prove your bond.’
Rory massaged his temples. Fionn sensed the load he was trying to carry—the events of the day must be catching up with him. Rory had been a member of Fionn’s world for a mere eight hours or so and absorbed everything Fionn had thrown at him like an impressively sturdy sea sponge. It shouldn’t be surprising that he now showed signs of wobbling.
Fionn’s stomach growled, reminding him they hadn’t eaten a meal, either. For a while he felt he could have survived on Rory’s company alone.
Fionn stroked a hand down Rory’s spine. ‘All of this can wait. It is more important that you take time to adjust to your surroundings.’ He turned to Neacel. ‘May we request food and lodgings for the night?’
Neacel was already pulling white slivers of mackerel from a pot. ‘For as many nights as you need.’ He flashed a wry, knowing sort of smile at Fionn over his shoulder. ‘Much progress indeed, Your Highness.’
Fionn wasn’t sure whether he ought to show pleasure or indignation at such a comment—but he was at least gratified to have recognised Neacel’s friendly ribbing for what it was. And he was pleased, inwardly, that Neacel agreed he’d improved hisapproach to handling Rory. Not handling, in fact: more like supporting. Communicating. Comforting. An ongoing balancing act of reading Rory’s needs and emotions in order to answer or fulfill them.
It was strangely freeing to focus on Rory’s well-being as a constant, transmutable thing rather than on gaining his affections as a static goal to be accomplished.
Right now, Rory was warily eyeing the fish in Neacel’s hands. ‘Do you eat it raw?’
‘Sometimes, yes,’ Fionn said, noting the way Rory’s nose wrinkled. ‘But it is more common to cook it first.’
Rory moved closer to watch as Neacel removed the cover from the heat vent in the floor and floated his cooking pot over it.
