Killian’s eyes darted around the room, they kept catching on a dent in the wall, not even two feet off the ground. He would never forget how it got there. A vicious backhand had sent Kade slamming into the wood, Tyr lashing out in an attempt to get the child off of him. The small fists had been drumming against Tyr’s leg in a futile attempt to protect Pella had been nothing more than an annoyance to the father. The crack of Kade’s skull against the wall had been deafening. Killian had watched, frozen, as Kade’s limp body slid onto the floor, blood smearing across the wood like paint.
It had been the first time Tyr had turned his rage on Kade, the first time he’d raised a hand to his true born son, but it was far from the last.
Killian had acted quietly to not be noticed, scooping upKade’s unmoving form and taking him out to his room in the barn. He’d been terrified that Kade wouldn’t wake up, but Tyr would have killed him if he’d taken Kade to a healer, so he patched the wound the best he could and prayed to every god and goddess in the night sky for Kade to be alright.
After that day, Killian fought back. He never stood a chance, he was young and weak, and though a drunk, Tyr was still a trained soldier, having fought in the mad king’s war in Valle. But it was enough that Killian could put himself between Tyr and Kade, standing as a physical barrier if nothing else, since Pella never would.
Killian had pushed Tyr, perhaps too much sometimes, to keep the focus on him and away from Kade.
Staring straight ahead, Killian could do nothing but focus on his breathing. He held his body unnaturally still in attempt to regain control of his racing heart.
It was impossible.
He couldn’t calm down.
There was a spot on the floor, stained the brown of old blood that Killian refused to look at. An image of the past clear in his mind: Tyr slumped over, his blood pooling in that very spot from a wound in his chest, the sword sticking through him still embedded.
Killian standing over Tyr, his own hands slick with the elder’s blood.
That very sword still hung above the stone mantle, left to dull and lose its shine.
It mocked him.
With a quiet curse, Killian shoved himself standing, no longer able to handle being in that space alone.
Killian’s old room in the barn was little more than a dusty cot squeezed into the tack room between leather harnesses and harvesting barrels. And yet, he knew he would sleep better there than in any room in the main house.
Stripping out of his uniform’s thick fabric tunic, Killian collapsed onto the cot; a cloud of dust pluming out around him.
Killian didn’t wake to the sounds of thundering footsteps racing up the dirt path, or to the panicked sounds of Kade coming home and finding every room empty.
It wasn’t until the door to the tack room burst open that Killian shot up. In action before he was even fully awake, the dagger always strapped to his thigh unsheathed and ready.
It fell to his side. “Kade? What are you doing here? You should still be—”
Barefoot and dripping river water, Kade all but collapsed into Killian’s arms, cutting him off.Trembling and unsteady, he let Killian take the entirety of his weight. “You weren’t there.You weren’t there.I thought you’d left.”
After slipping the blade back into it’s sheath, Killian’s arms were free to return Kade’s desperate embrace. He hesitated only a moment before sliding his arms around Kade’s waist and locking them behind his back, wanting nothing more than to pull Kade into his very chest.
It felt like a dream. Too good to be true.
Not counting Pella’s funeral, the last time the two had stood in the same space ended with Kade’s father murdered and Killian being led away in chains.
“I told you I would wait for you,” Killian whispered softly.
Kade’s nails dug hard into the skin of Killian’s back, close todrawing blood. His voice was bitter when he said, “Forgive me if I didn’t take you at your word.” Ouch. Kade continued, his next words a balm that soothed the sting. “Welcomehome, Killi.”
Killian closed his eyes and turned his nose into Kade’s hair. No complaint came as Killian held on for as long as he was allowed. Only a few inches shorter, Kade fit in his arms perfectly. Breathing deeply through his nose, he filled his lungs with the sweet scent of the fruits they harvested, the earthy musk of dirt from working in the fields, sunshine, the river, and something wholly Kade that Killian couldn’t put into words. It was the scent of home.
Too soon, Kade pulled back. His eyes were misty and red as he gazed up at Killian, the dark circles under his eyes were like bruises.
Killian brushed the tears from Kade’s cheeks with his thumbs, his hands moving to gently cup Kade’s face.
With a heavy sigh, Kade’s eyes slid closed and he leaned into Killian’s touch.
For a moment, just a short moment, Killian let himself look. Let himself drink in the sight of the younger elf, the delicate brow bone that sloped into an elegant, pointed nose, long eyelashes that fluttered against his cheeks. Killian couldn’t help that his eyes lingered on pouted lips, the bottom just a bit more full than the top.He hadn’t changed at all, and yet he was something entirely different.
They were so close. Every breath Kade took fanned out across Killian’s face.
