Oh. A bright, beautiful warmth was unspooling up Kesst’s spine — Eft meant he liked orcs, he likedhim— and suddenly, the memory of their disastrous first meeting was shifting, reorienting itself in his thoughts.You are an orc, Eft had said.What, you want to look human?
Kesst had to glance away again, biting at his lip, though he could feel Eft’s eyes studying him. “How about you, then?” Eft’s voice asked, quieter than before. “You speak with a human accent, too. Did you spend much time with your mother growing up? And were you able to use your magic?”
Kesst felt himself flinch, the bitter memories flaring behind his eyes, and he abruptly leapt to his feet, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, his voice again flat and curt. “Now, or ever.”
Gods, he could still feel Eft’s eyes on him, surely speculating, pitying him, and Kesst desperately shoved down that awareness as he stalked over to his bed, where he began intently smoothing out the fur. Waiting, waiting, until he could hear Eft shifting, clearing his throat.
“Right,” he said. “Should get back to work, then. Thanks for themorgunmatur.”
Kesst jerked a shrug, but didn’t turn around, even as more of that miserable, too-familiar guilt studded through his chest. Why did he keep doing this, why did Eft keep returning it with such appalling kindness? Gods, it was painful, and Kesst shouldn’t care, he should be leaving Eft alone for good, this was dangerous, deadly…
But unsurprisingly, he couldn’t even seem to make himself leave the damned room again. Instead, he first spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning out the filthy fireplace, and then straightened out some of the other beds, too. And when the next injured, bloody orc staggered in — Ulfarr, a well-hung but highly belligerent Skai, who Kesst unfortunately knew far too well — he stalked over to intercept the situation, ignoring whatever bilge Ulfarr was spouting at Eft, and instead stepping between them, and fixing Ulfarr with a chilly, not-so-nice smile.
“You might as well just knock him out, Eft, and save us all the aggravation,” Kesst loudly snapped, over Ulfarr’s continued griping. “Now, unless you want to crack your thick head open on the floor, you can pick a bed, and lie down, and shut up.Leggstu niður og þegiðu.”
Ulfarr must have been in more pain than he wanted to admit, because he finally, grudgingly obliged, and soon was noisily snoring as Eft spread his fingers against his forehead. “Thanks, Kesst,” he said, half-smiling over his shoulder. “Leggstu niður og þegitu, huh? Lie down and shut up? Seems like that one could come in handy.”
“It’sþegiðu, actually,” Kesst said, with emphasis on the ðu. “But yes, it needs to become an essential part of your vocabulary. And therefore, I expect to hear it from you atleastthree more times today.”
He belatedly twitched, and waited for Eft to stiffen at his presumptuousness, or maybe to finally tell him to get the hell out of his sickroom forever. Or even worse, to acknowledge the rising, unspoken truth that Kesst’s scent was unmistakably present on Ulfarr, and Ulfarr’s on him. And surely Eft could smell that, and gods, what must Eft think of him, and…
“I’ll try,” Eft replied, with another half-smile over his shoulder. “Are there any other crucial phrases I should know?”
Curse him, Kesst’sheart, and he gave a sharp nod toward Eft’s back. “Yes, actually,” he said. “All things you should start telling me frequently.Ég er svangur, I’m hungry.Ég er þreyttur, I’m tired.Ég þarf hjálp, I need help.Þú ert fallegur, you’re beautiful.”
And what the hell was he doing, he was supposed to be keeping his distance, not trying to ingratiate himself into Eft’s life, let alone fishing for juvenile compliments, damn it — but oh, that look of Eft’s over his shoulder was why, that undeniable warmth, that relief, in his eyes.
“Good to know, thanks,” he said, husky. “Þú ert fallegur, Kesst.”
Kesst’s grin stole across his face before he could stop it, along with a highly betraying flush to his cheeks. And he found himself tossing his hair over his shoulder, and even letting his tongue brush his lips. “I know,” he said lightly. “But thank you.Þakka þér fyrir.”
Eft looked at him for a gratifyingly long moment, his eyes gone rather glazed. And far too late, Kesst forced himself to spin and stalk away, before he dug himself deeper, and made this mess even worse.
But clearly, self-destruction was too irresistible a temptation, because Kesst just couldn’t seem to stay away from Eft as the day passed. Not only lurking around the cramped little room like he belonged there, but also giving Eft more words and phrases in Aelakesh, and plying him with more food and water, and continuing to make random improvements to the room, making it slightly less dank than before. And then even giving Eft all the gossip on the various sleeping orcs around them, explaining their clans, their preferences, their upbringings.
“So Olarr here keeps getting ‘injured,’ while out ‘scouting,’” Kesst was currently saying, smirking down toward Olarr’s huge unconscious body. “Never mind that he’s a brilliant fighter, and that he always seems to come back doused with the exact same scent. Not suspicious atall, right?”
Eft was flashing an amused smile at Kesst, surely knowing — just as well as Kesst did — that the scent on Olarr was undoubtedly male, and undoubtedly human, too. “That explains a lot, actually,” Eft said. “And what about this one?”
This one was Abjorn, his handsome grey face frowning in sleep, his black hair fanned out over the fur beneath him. “Ah, so Abjorn is probably the only Ka-esh around here who actually does any fighting,” Kesst replied. “It’s like he’s forgotten that he’s Ka-esh — well, apart from the collars and chains bit — and that he’s supposed to be hunkered down here digging tunnels and mixing potions together. He spent way too much time growing up with my belligerent blood-brother Rathgarr, and Rath was completely obsessed with brawling, so as usual, I blame —”
And wait wait wait, Kesst wasnottalking about his family or his upbringing, ever —especiallyRathgarr — but it was already too late. Eft’s eyes widening, his head tilting, and was he going to ask, no no no —
Kesst had already flounced away again, stalking across the room, his shoulders hunched. Being a sulky brat, he knew, and surely Eft wasn’t going to keep dealing with this tripe, he was going to smarten up and send Kesst away, and —
“Collars and chains, huh?” came Eft’s mild voice behind him, and when Kesst whipped back around, frowning, Eft was wearing that wry smile again. “That would definitely explain some of these scars he’s got. Is that a typical Ka-esh preference, then?”
Kesst had to stare for a moment, swallow down the lump in his throat — thishealer— but he felt himself abruptly nodding, and then, without at all meaning to, drifting back toward Eft again. “Gods, yes,” he replied. “I mean, not all of them, but it’s definitely athing. They even have a secret little pleasure-den a few corridors away from here, fully outfitted with all the whips and chains and paddles you could everdreamof. I thoroughly pity whatever poor schmuck ends up having to clean that place.”
Eft’s answering laugh was warm and tolerant, as if he’d truly already forgotten about Kesst’s lapse, about Rathgarr. “And doyoudream of that kind of thing, then?” he asked softly. “Chains, and the like?”
Kesst was staring at Eft again, because — first, he was asking, and had Kesst ever actually been asked about his own preferences before? And second, did Eft meanhewanted those things? And what kind of answer did he want on this, what if Kesst gave the wrong one, and —
“Doyouwant that?” Kesst heard his voice say, too high-pitched, almost panicked. “I mean, we’ve already established that I’m a greedy tart who’ll do anything for cock, so I’m sure I —”
And gods, was he shuddering, because while Ofnir and Skald — and many others — had often been rough and careless with him, they’d rarely bothered with anything beyond their pricks and teeth and claws. And the thought of adding more, of being even more trapped than he already was, it was —
“Hey,” Eft said, louder than before, and Kesst belatedly realized he’d abandoned Abjorn altogether, in favour of stepping closer, his hand reaching toward Kesst — but then abruptly dropping again, just in time. “Kesst. I wasn’t looking for a specific answer, or even any answer at all, all right? Just wanting to know more about you, is all.”
