Chapter Text
Edmund woke gradually to the heavy tangle of Reingard’s limbs with the sort of regularity that came only from decades of dedicated practice. The hostel’s room was dark, but the sun would be rising soon and Edmund would rise with it, as he always did.
Of course, following his discipline was made uniquely challenging when one’s partner was so adamantly opposed to certain aspects of his oath. Namely, early rising.
No sooner had Edmund tensed in preparation to push himself upright did Reingard’s arms tighten their hold. The man wasn’t even awake yet and his body insisted on fighting the inevitable. But if Edmund played his movement off under the guise of shifting in his sleep, he could slip from the arm thrown across his chest. In a few short turns, he was free, and Reingard was grumbling in discontent at his absence.
Edmund spared a moment to watch Reingard rouse. One eye cracked open, searching the room blindly, his brows scrunched in confusion. He grunted something, not a word, but a sound. “It’s almost sunrise,” Edmund murmured, as though he hadn’t done this ritual every morning he’d shared with Reingard so far, and every single morning since he was a boy.
Edmund turned away to search for something to wear against the icy chill. Their heavy cloaks still held some dampness, but the linens were tolerably dry, and any discomfort would be temporary. He searched the dark where they’d left them laid out the night before and pulled one on with a shiver. It hung loosely on his frame, a little longer than they should have been, but they were just underclothes. It didn’t matter. He turned towards the window, towards the rising sun. It was east facing. Reingard had chosen the room when he’d paid. Edmund smiled warmly at his partner’s foresight even as Reingard scowled and muttered something that was probably best left unintelligible regarding Edmund’s morning rituals, tossing a little on the new space Edmund’s absence afforded him.
Edmund knelt before the window and watched the horizon where the sun’s glow was beginning to crest the distant mountains, averting his eyes from the blinding glare. He greeted the morning light with soft lilting prayer, and behind him he heard Reingard sigh, shifting to settle deeper into the straw pallet. Reingard told him once that the prayers Edmund recited were beautiful, that he could dance to them like they were music, and sleep to them as if they were a lullaby. Flowery words, but they clearly held some truth.
Reingard was by no means a pious man. At times he often scoffed at others’ devotion to their gods. Even Edmund’s. Not that he could fault Reingard for it, sometimes the unkind world tore up the softest parts of a man, Reingard was lucky his wounds had healed enough to scar. But never once had Reingard kept him from his duties. He even seemed to love Edmund for them. His prayers never ran the risk of losing their meaning when he prayed where Reingard could hear them.
His words were warm. Full. The morning sunlight illuminated what the storm had left behind, and from what Edmund could tell, their travels would be muddy and cold and unpleasant, but the sun was rising at the very least. He could be content with that.
He turned away from the window, easing himself from his now aching knees. Behind him Reingard had fallen asleep once again, an arm left extended across Edmund’s vacant spot on the narrow bed. Edmund stood over the cot for a moment, admiring the sight before reaching out to lightly tap the pallet near where Reingard’s head lay smashed against a flattened pillow.
“Reingard, love…” Edmund ventured softly.
Reingard twitched dangerously and flung an arm out to the side with a snarl of annoyance. Edmund bent at the hip to avoid the blow, anticipating it. He loved Reingard. Truly, the man was a treasure. But Reingard was decidedly… combative to the practice of early rising.
“The sun is up,” Edmund told him anyway, and Reingard slumped. His sleep-tousled hair and the sight of his exhausted face smushed against the pillow made the moodiness worth it in Edmund’s mind. Now that Reingard’s eyes were almost open, and almost watching him, he deemed it safe enough to reach out and run a hand through that tousled hair, and Reingard melted, settling deeper into the straw pallet.
“Would you like me to fetch breakfast?” Edmund offered.
“Mmf…” Reingard replied eloquently. One hand flung out again and Edmund caught it in both of his own before it could connect. Reingard grunted in defeat, turning his face into the pillow and leaving his arm in Edmund’s care.
Edmund knelt beside the bed and brushed his lips against Reingard’s battered knuckles in a gesture Reingard was likely too tired to appreciate but it brought Edmund joy to do it all the same.
“Is that a no then?” he asked gently.
“Mmm… later.”
“Are you sure? You always wake up after a good breakfast.”
“Gods above and below, Eddie you’re the only one up at this hour!” Reingard growled, true words at last. A full sentence, even! He paused and rolled back to face him, squinting, but both his eyes were open now. “Those’re my linens.”
Edmund glanced down at himself, confused, and yes. Yes, those were Reingard’s linens. That explained how low they hung on his frame, they were fitted for a taller man. His face flushed in the growing dawn light and he made to rise from the bedside but Reingard reached for him, catching him by the collar of the tunic.
“Get back in here,” he growled, wrenching Edmund forward.
He lifted a knee and crawled back in beside Reingard, into the spot he’d vacated. In short order he was grabbed about the shoulders and hauled against Reingard’s chest in a crushing embrace. A quick nap then, Edmund decided when testing the bounds of Reingard’s arms proved fruitless.
It was another three hours before Reingard finally roused to face the day. A bit late for Edmund’s taste, but then Reingard was also to Edmund’s taste.
They left the room in each other’s underclothes as Reingard didn’t seem pressed to make Edmund change. He eyed the fabric peeking out from the neck of Reingard’s breastplate, his heart fluttering, and shut the door behind them.