But he remembered how Theos had moved, how he’d sounded and smelled and felt. He remembered the fierce concentration on the other man’s face, as if he was memorizing Finnvid, claiming him and owning him. Finnvid felt his cock stirring again and tried to ignore it. He needed to think about something else. He needed to stop shaking.
The Elkati were sitting around one of the campfires, but he couldn’t join them. They’d know. They’d realize he’d just— What had he done? He’d never touched a woman like that, never even kissed in a more than friendly way, and now he’d . . . donethat. . . with another man. A Torian. ASacrati. Rutting like animals in the forest, soiling their clothes, risking their lives in the cold . . . Theos was right. It had been stupid. Worse than stupid. Dirty, unnatural, immoral. It had been wrong.
As Theos staggered into camp, the deer over his shoulders again, Finnvid crawled into the nearest snow mound. The tunnel ran down a bit and then up, and as he emerged into the soft glow cast by several small flames, he realized that itwaswarm in the shelter. Not hot, but above freezing, certainly. There was a bucket of water heating by one of the flames, probably a sign that someone else was planning to bathe.
But Finnvid didn’t care about the etiquette of stealing someone’s water. He pulled his clothing off as if it were on fire, dropping it in a heap on the snowy floor. Layer after layer, days’ worth of grime, and then the final evidence of his depravity on his underthings. He stripped it all off, dipped his hands into the bucket of warm water and splashed it up and over himself. It would be better if he had a brush or even a rough cloth, but he made do with his hands. He scrubbed and scrubbed, and as the water in the bucket was consumed he scooped snow off the floor of the structure and dumped it into the bucket, barely letting it thaw before he used it on his body.
He heard a sound from the side of the cavern and whirled, seeing only then that all the mounds were joined through little tunnels. It was Andros’s familiar head that appeared at the low tunnel entrance, and he was dragging Finnvid’s pack along with him.
“Do you have clean clothes?” he asked, as if he assisted Elkati princes with frenzied bathing as a matter of course. “Something dry? We can probably get the rest of your things washed and dried before we leave. At least the inner layers. But you’ll need something to wear in the meantime.”
Finnvid stared at him. It was all so prosaic. And Andros was, as always, so kind. Did he know what Finnvid had done? But even if he did, Andros wouldn’t care. He did those things himself. He did them in public, with people all around him. It wasn’t— For Andros, it wasn’t shameful. It wasn’t unnatural.
Could it ever be that way for Finnvid?
Ithadbeen, he realized with a start. Of all the emotions that had washed over him in the forest with Theos, shame had been absent. Even after Theos had pulled away, Finnvid hadn’t felt ashamed. Angry and embarrassed and hurt, certainly. But he hadn’t felt shame until he returned to camp. Until he was back among his Elkati peers.
“You done washing?” Andros asked gently. He might not understand the exact reason for Finnvid’s agitation, and apparently he didn’t need to. Just as Finnvid had with Andros’s snakebite, Andros was treating Finnvid’s symptoms, if not the underlying injury. “You should get dressed. Stay warm.”
Finnvid nodded, which prompted the rest of his body into action. He rummaged through his pack and found clothes that were somewhat cleaner than the ones he’d been wearing and pulled them on. “There’s a way to wash the other stuff?”
“Lots of ways. If we were staying here longer, we could set up a line outside and hang the clothes on it, let the snow and the wind wash off the dirt. But that takes a couple days, and then you need drying time on top of that, so let’s just use water.”
Simple and matter-of-fact. Andros found a few more buckets, filled them with snow, and set them next to the small lamp to thaw.
“I didn’t know you carried lamps with you,” Finnvid said absently. “And fuel, too.”
Andros just grinned and then reached into the metal bowl and ran his finger around in the fuel. Then he popped his finger in his mouth and licked it clean. “Mmmm,” he hummed. “Fat cakes!”
Finnvid squinted at the lamp. “Fat cakes? Really?”
“They’re good for everything.”
“Everything except eating.”
“You’ll get used to them. Well, youwouldget used to them, if you ate them more. But I guess you won’t, once you’re back in Elkat.” He frowned. “Strange to think of that. You not being around anymore.”
“It’s a little strange for me too.”
Andros went back to his demonstration of the washing process, and showed how Finnvid would have to wring the clothes almost dry before hanging them because the cold air wouldn’t absorb much of their moisture, and Finnvid saw that this was one more skill he’d never have the chance to use again. Not that he reallywantedto be a launderer, but he’d learned some tricks from scrubbing Theos’s clothes at Windthorn, and now he was learning new ways, and soon none of it would matter.
“Are we allowed to be in here?” he asked suddenly. “No one else has come in. Are they all still out in the cold?”
“It’s not that bad, behind the windbreak and by the fires. And they’re all waiting for their shares of venison. We’ve got some time.”
Things were so calm and easy with Andros. Finnvid wondered what it would have been like if Andros had been the one to buy him. There’d have been less anger, certainly. Less frustration. Everything would have been easier.
He frowned at Andros and tried to imagine doing what he’d done in the forest with him. Despite all he’d seen of Andros and Xeno, and even Andros and Theos, he just couldn’t picture Andros and himself. Theos’s frustration was strong enough to match his own, his passion powerful enough to override Finnvid’s hesitations. And Theos was . . . he wasTheos.All the things that made him so difficult made time with him that much sweeter when he finally relaxed and let himself be easy.
“Thank you for helping,” Finnvid said quietly.
“You’re too much like him,” Andros said as if he had a pretty good idea what had triggered Finnvid’s feverish cleaning. “You both take things too seriously.”
“He hates me.” Finnvid felt like a child as he said it, and even more ridiculous when he realized how much he wanted Andros to contradict him.
Andros just smiled. “He doesn’t. But he’s definitely angry with you. Very angry.”
“He kept me as a slave. I was a prisoner, and treated as the enemy. I was duty-bound to try to escape.”
