Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Empyrean Ruins were insufferably muggy.

When Robb had pictured the forbidden sanctuary at the heart of Shambala, he’d imagined it differently. Wind-swept and desolate, maybe, with only sun-bleached stones scattering the proximity of the ancient tree. The reality was anything but — they’d emerged from the transporter to find themselves in a jungle, overgrown and wild.

A jungle that was also full of weaponized mechanical spiders. They were surprisingly agile creatures, making for fast-moving targets, and as machines, they were largely invulnerable to Robb’s usual tricks. He’d quickly discovered there wasn’t much use in trying to poison them. Still, he’d managed to find one bit of satisfaction: if he could sink an arrow straight into the glowing panel of their “eyes,” it made a good crunch.

“Oh, good shot there!” Egyl called back over his shoulder.

Next to him, Lenne was prodding a fallen creature with the end of her spear, confirming it was no longer moving.

Robb lowered his bow and jogged to catch up to them. “How many more of these wretched things are there, anyway?” he groaned.

“Plenty, I’d guess,” Lenne answered. “I didn’t realize the ruins would be so heavily guarded. I suppose we should have anticipated this.”

Egyl nodded sympathetically. “The church does tend to be very protective of its secrets.”

True as that was, Robb couldn’t help but feel there was something off about the situation. “The transporter only worked because of Lenne’s ether, didn’t it? I don’t see how someone else could have even gotten here.”

“Well, Gwayn did say there would be trials. Given that…” Lenne looked up at the canopy of tangled vines and branches overhead, her lips parted. “Perhaps the monsters are part of what he meant. Along with all these strange switches and puzzles.”

“Well, I don’t understand it. Do they want you to recover your memories or not? Puzzles, sure… maybe those could be helpful in some way. But monsters? What is the point of trials that put you in danger?”

He wanted to keep going — he certainly had plenty more to say, about the church, about Gawyn, about everything — but he could see that far-away expression already creeping back onto her face. He’d been seeing it there more and more often lately.

Blast it all.

“Do not fret, Lenne!” Egyl declared, suddenly impassioned. “Whatever we may face, I will do everything in my power to see that you all arrive safely safe to your destination. On my honor! And I am certain that Robb will as well.”

Robb ducked his head. “—Of course. Right.”

They converged with the rest of the team deeper in the forest, where the stony pavers underfoot had almost entirely degraded back into the soil. Emanating from somewhere up ahead was a hum of machinery, gradually growing louder as they trekked on.

“That sounds like something a lot bigger,” Sienna remarked. She pressed a finger to her lips, gesturing that they should advance discreetly. As they approached, the towering metal forms of two golems became visible in a clearing up ahead.

“Bigger, indeed,” Victor agreed.

They all marveled at the sight of them for a moment, before Glenn gathered them in closely, whispering out a strategy. “I think we should go for an ambush. We don’t know what these things are capable of, so any extra time that we can buy for ourselves in catching them unaware may be essential. Sienna and I will take the lead – we’ll handle the one on the left. Egyl and Lenne, let’s continue with the same formation you’ve been using. You two can focus on the other one.”

Lenne nodded, her eyes bright with determination.

“Victor and Robb, I want you to stay behind cover — out of sight completely, if you can. If you can get a few shots in while their attention is on us, that will work to our favor.”

Glenn turned to the others then, adding, “Everyone else, keep watch and maintain a defensive formation here with our things. Be prepared to tag in if we need you.”

“We’ll be ready,” answered Tomke, shepherding those that would remain behind into their places.

Surveying the terrain, Robb considered where to place himself. There were a few low branches on one of the trees nearby. Perhaps he could —?

Moving quietly, he pulled himself up onto a limb and readied his bow. It felt more like a schoolboy’s hideout than a sniper’s nest, but given the circumstances, it would have to do.

From his perch, Robb tracked the faint movement of their primary offense as they found their positions. Glenn must have given a signal, because soon after, they burst into the clearing, weapons drawn, the air sparking with Lenne’s magical energy.

Sienna was able to land a hit before the creature could so much as turn to face her. She struck again, this time aiming for the golem’s kneecap, and evaded its counterattack deftly while Glenn charged forward in turn.

The other golem rocketed a fist towards Lenne, obviously displeased with the torrent of water she was directing towards it. Egyl moved in to intercept the attack, successfully diverting both the blow and the golem's attention.

Seeing an opportunity, Robb took aim. The result was underwhelming – though his arrow lodged into the monster’s steel throat, it didn’t appear to inflict much damage. But the golem was at least occupied for a moment in reaching to remove it.

He watched the battle continue for a while, trying to locate a clearer vulnerability. When he glanced again to the opposite end of the clearing, it was just in time to watch Sienna get flung roughly into the dirt, having taken a direct hit to her side. The unexpected impact separated her from her weapon, which landed a considerable distance away.

Robb felt his muscles tensing, a growing urgency filling him – a well-placed arrow could buy her some time. He’d need to get higher up to make that shot. As Sienna struggled back onto her feet, he could see Victor’s Shielding Mazurka taking shape around her body, but the thin forcefield would only be able to absorb so much damage. Robb climbed further, searching for an opening in the leaves. As he reached for another branch, he felt his foot slip. Something snapped loudly beneath him, forcing him to grab hold of the trunk to keep his balance.

The sound did not go unnoticed — the other golem, the closer one, turned its head curiously. It lurched to the side, energy gathering in its fists.

Faintly, Robb could hear Glenn’s voice, “Why is that one —? What’s it aiming at?”

Branches shattered all around him as the golem plowed into the tree. Moments later, Robb hit the ground with a dull thud, landing on his stomach in a pile of debris.

“No!” Lenne cried out. “Robb! Watch out!”

He pushed himself onto his hands, and looked up. Above him, the mechanical brute was pulling back its arm again, winding up for another blow. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact.

“I’ve got you!”

Egyl dove in front of Robb. Raising his shield, he deflected the golem’s fist as it crashed towards them. There was a moment of stillness in the aftermath: the golem slowly recoiled, and Egyl steadied himself. Then, with a shouted war cry, he rounded on the golem and plunged the point of his gunspear into its abdomen. There was an audible crack of electricity as something inside the machine was severed. It tipped backward, and to Robb’s great relief, fell into a heap.

Whooping and cheering, the rest of the team emerged from the treeline. Evidently, Glenn had defeated the other golem, his sword embedded deep into its back. Sienna was helping him to pry it loose again.

Lenne rushed to Robb’s side, kneeling down to check his injuries.

“You had a hard landing. Try not to move too much,” she scolded, though she, too, sounded more relieved than anything.

Robb sighed, surrendering to her ministrations. Egyl was standing a short distance behind her, examining his gunspear for damage. A few of his feathers were out of place, and he’d probably have some bruises tomorrow, but he appeared largely unharmed. Cheerful, even.

He really was a Knight of the Dust Blue, wasn’t he?

Not that it had ever truly been in doubt.

Sheepishly, Robb looked away. He congratulated himself on his own idiocy. He couldn’t believe he fell out of a tree for Sienna, of all people.

Glenn was rather grave about the whole affair when they circled up to debrief, Lenne having cleared Robb of any grievous bodily harm.

“That was too close,” he sighed. “That golem almost put you out of commission, Robb.”

But Victor smiled, undaunted as ever. “Ah, but it worked out, didn’t it? Egyl saved him. Like a knight in shining armor! Shishishi!”

There was a mix of laughter and groans from the party, while Robb let out an indignant huff.

And so it began - mildly enough, innocently enough. Little did he know, he soon wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Woof!”

Robb looked over to find Cres standing in the doorway, her beady little eyes fixed on him. Judging by the hurried patter of footsteps coming down the hallway, Princess Amalia was soon to follow.

“Robb! There you are!”

She skidded into the room, a blur of turquoise hair and fluttering cape, while Cres, in turn, trotted in daintily behind her. Robb was a bit surprised to see her. Amalia had already chased him down once for a chat, earlier that same day.

“Hmph! You were a bother to find. I thought you were still outside,” she announced, eyeing him up and down. “What are you doing?”

Robb nodded towards the kettle he’d recently appropriated for his naturopathic blends. His current project was a Cobwebtadie anti-venom.

“Oh. Well, I need your help. Urgently. You must– ah–” she paused, her face momentarily contorted, before continuing, “I mean, would you, um, please help me, Robb?”

He tried not to smile. There was something about her awkwardness that he found almost endearing. Sometimes, anyway. “What is it?”

“I need you to tell me about spices.”

“...Spices?”

“Yes!” She rocked in place, shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her toes and back again. “You see, I’m, um, reviewing our menus. It’s important! Important for, um, for group morale. Surely you know that a hearty, well-balanced, and delicious meal is incredibly important for positive group morale.”

Morale wasn’t exactly great at the moment. There were plenty of things, he figured, that might improve it that they didn’t have right now. Like competent leadership. An actual plan for what to do about the grimoire. Not having to live in a cave. How “good food” had ended up so high on Amalia’s list was a bit of a mystery. It was probably better not to ask why.

“Okay,” he answered.

“Mikah’s already helping me. She already agreed. She offered. I’m not making her do it.”

“...Right.”

Amalia dropped herself down beside him at the table that served as his makeshift workbench.

“I need your insight regarding this purely hypothetical situation. If one had secured a cut of meat… and had access to, say, the pantry we have here at our base… are there particular seasonings you would recommend? You know, for flavoring. Oh, and — um, there’s a vegetable alternative in this hypothetical scenario, too.”

Robb mentally took stock of what they’d stored in the kitchen cabinets. There wasn’t much. “Well, if you’re working with just the pantry, the selection is pretty dismal. We have some salt, but there’s not really much else. You’d be better off picking some herbs.”

“Oh? Did one of the clan members plant some?”

“No, but there are some wild one that grow in this climate. You can find edible plants in most places, actually, if you know where to look. There’s a decent patch of wild radish behind the livestock shed. Those could provide some flavor.”

“What do they look like?”

“They have a four-petaled flower that’s pretty distinctive. They’re usually rather pale, but if you see a plant with yellow flowers in that same shape and little pods, those are actually edible as well. Wild mustard.” Robb was fairly certain both could be found on the island relatively easily.  “You know, there’s actually a botanical index that I bought from the market in Wyrnshire. It has some figures. I can… let me just…”

He moved to get up, but Amalia put out a hand to stop him.

“Oh! Let me, please.” She scuttled over to the improvised shelf someone had dug out of the earthen wall. “Here, right?”

Robb nodded. “It should have a leather cover. If you flip to the back, there’s an index with the names and page numbers.”

“Ah, here it is. Okay, let’s see…” She sat down on the floor, letting the book fall into her lap. It opened to a page in the middle, where a long, glossy blue feather had been pressed close to the spine.

Amalia stared at it. Startled, Robb stared at it, too.

He attempted a nonchalant recovery. “Right. So…”

“Robb. What’s this?” She pulled the feather out from between the pages, and rolled the hollow shaft between her thumb and forefinger. It twirled in elegant little circles.

“It’s a feather, Amalia,” he replied evenly.

“I know it’s a feather. But this isn’t from a bird. This is one of Ser Egyl’s feathers, isn’t it? It’s a long one, too. Why do you have this?”

“What do you mean, ‘why do I have it?’ I was just using it to mark one of the pages.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Did you pull this out of his wing?”

“What? No! Of course not!”

The suggestion scandalized him. How would someone even do such a thing? Just march right up, and yank one out? Pretend to stumble into Egyl, and “accidentally” grab hold of his wing while breaking his fall? Or even worse, try and pluck one surreptitiously, while Egyl was asleep? 

“It just fell out on its own,” he assured her, a little mortified. “I picked it up for him, but he said that he just sheds them from time to time. It’s called molting.”

“I do know what molting is,” she returned, but she visibly relaxed, much to his relief. “So how’d it end up in your book?”

“Well. I mean. He didn’t need it anymore, obviously. He said I could have it. I figured I’d use it for something.”

“Oh! So he gave it to you.” Amalia seemed to find some unknown significance in this distinction. She mumbled something under her breath, but Robb was pretty sure he heard it anyway. It sounded like “that’s cute.”

“…Sure. Anyway, if you flip to the back…”

Thankfully, she let the subject drop this time. They went over the particulars of plant identification for a while, with Robb making a couple sketches on a leaflet of scrap parchment he’d found under Victor’s bed, until they were both reasonably certain Amalia wouldn’t manage to confuse a hemlock for a fennel. When she retrieved the book, he kept hold of it, weighing it in his hands as she smoothed out her skirt and gathered Cres into her arms. Tilting it towards himself, he skimmed his thumb along the pages until it opened back at the marked place.

“Robb. One last thing.”

He glanced up, pushing the book closed again. Amalia was lingering in the doorway, smiling ominously.

“Yes?”

“Tokens like that are meant to be returned in kind, you know.”

“—Eh?”

She offered a suggestion as she slipped out of the room.

“Maybe snip something off that mop of yours!”

Chapter Text

With Marylea behind them and Glenn rescued from the confusion of his own mind, the members of the Crimson Wings found themselves in a limbo of restocking, recruitment, and side missions aimed at replenishing their depleted coffers – the latest of which had been an unmitigated disaster. What began as a fairly straightforward bodyguard assignment had degraded rather spectacularly, resulting in an outcome no one found very satisfying: dead clients, and a big, dead purple-haired fairy queen. As such, the journey back to Hermit’s Isle that had followed had been a rather subdued affair (baring only the delighted squeals of their newest recruit, Magnolia, who spent the majority of the ride home draped across her beloved Glenn’s shoulders, while everyone else, Glenn included, endeavored to ignore her).

Robb unloaded his gear wearily. As glad as he was to be out of the Himmelskaiser and back on solid ground, exhaustion weighed on him like an overstuffed pack. Only the prospect of a long soak in some very hot water was enough to propel him through the last of his tasks.

The thermal spring was probably the most redeeming natural feature of their remote island home. Even at the castle in Tormund, Robb had hardly experienced anything quite like it.

When he finally pushed his way through the woven curtain that divided the clan’s storeroom from the baths, he was pleased to find them relatively empty. The only immediate evidence of another occupant was a cloak, carefully folded, and a pair of steel legs placed by the edge of the spring.

“Ba’Thraz?” he called out.

“Robb.”

Ba’Thraz was submerged up to his chest, reclined against the smooth stones that bordered the pool. He didn’t lift his head as Robb approached, but opened one dark eye to watch him.

Robb’s gaze caught on the polished metal of the Lisvan’s folded arms, somewhat surprised that Ba’Thraz hadn’t removed them. “You don’t take those off, too?” he asked, pulling his tunic over his head.

Unimpressed, Ba’Thraz answered, “...How would we get out?”

“Ah.”

Unbidden, an image appeared in his mind: Ba’Thraz, limbless, spread out like a scaly green starfish and floating on the surface of the water. Disturbed, Robb shook his head to clear it.

He took his time stripping off the rest of his clothes, abandoning them in an untidy pile. When he eased himself into the warm water, the sensation was as glorious as ever. Something about the natural minerals and the heat soothed sore muscles incomparably.

“What a day,” he sighed, absently studying the trails of steam that curled off the shimmering surface of the water. He could already feel the lingering tension in his body starting to dissipate. “It’s a pity what happened to those fairies. I can’t say I feel the same about Radhat and his men.”

Ba’Thraz returned a low grunt of agreement.

“I suppose if they hadn’t met their fate out there, though, we might have actually come away with some arc to show for it.” Robb gestured listlessly. “Like we were supposed to.”

“We wouldn’t have been paid. Even if those traders hadn’t been killed.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

Ba’Thraz finally lifted his head, though his expression remained unchanged. “We searched the bodies before we left the woods. There was little of value amongst Radhat’s possessions. Certainly not the sum he’d promised.”

“You think he intended to stiff us?”

“Probably.”

“Useless bastards,” Robb lamented. “So the whole operation was doomed from the start.” How many days had they wasted on this mission? Exasperated, he plunged his head beneath the surface of the water, and reemerged with a gasp.

“Ba’Thraz?” A voice echoed into the cavern, and then, closer: “Ba’Thraz! Have you seen—”

Robb looked over his shoulder to see that Egyl was now standing in the entryway, holding the curtain open.

“Oh!” he exclaimed as their eyes met, looking oddly surprised. “Robb, you’re…”

…I’m what? Here? Robb wondered, amused. He waited for him to finish the thought, but Egyl merely continued to look at him blankly.

“You need something?” Ba’Thraz asked.

“Ah, yes, actually. I was going to ask if you — well, if either of you — have seen Faran. Victor asked that I… um, briefly brief him on what happened.”

“He’s not on site. The supply run to Wyrnshire this week got pushed back a few days. Some complications with the order. He’s expected tomorrow.”

“I see. That explains it.”

“The supplies are delayed? What a hassle…” Robb lifted a hand out of the water, tucking his wet hair behind his ears. “I’m supposed to lead inventory tomorrow. At least that’ll be quick…”

Egyl chuckled, his posture relaxing somewhat. He leaned back against the wall, folding his wings over his chest. “What’s this? Is Robb seeing the good in the circumstances? I must be rubbing off on you.”

Robb scoffed. “Well, it’s the only good I can think of. If you have any more hidden blessings for us, then please, let’s hear them.”

“I am coming to understand this sarcasm you Hyoms so enjoy. Therefore, I will not elaborate.”

“Wow. Guess I’m rubbing off on you too.”

“In the best way, yes,” Egyl answered with a tilt of his head. Because what was Egyl, if not winsome and kind? It made Robb feel embarrassingly fond. “There’s always something to be thankful for, isn’t there?”

“If you say so.” Robb rolled his shoulders, stretching, and turned to face him properly. “Say, are you going to get in?”

Egyl glanced away so abruptly that Robb followed his gaze across the room, puzzled. Ba’Thraz was still slumped against the other side of the hot spring, looking rather the same as he had been. If anything, it looked like he was starting to fall asleep.

“No, I’m alright.” Egyl answered stiffly. “Maybe I’ll put my feet in for a bit later.”

Now that Robb thought about it, he wasn’t certain if he’d ever crossed paths with Egyl in the baths before. “Is moisture bad for your feathers?” he asked, suddenly curious. “I guess I don’t know how you normally clean off.”

“It doesn’t hurt them, but I don’t use the hot spring very often. It takes me quite a while to dry off.”

“That’s a shame. The water feels pretty nice. Though to be honest, I really can’t stay in here for too long.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“At some point, I start getting light-headed.”

Egyl finally looked back at him again, his eyes round with concern.

“Not dangerously so,” Robb qualified. “It’s just a little too hot, I think. I’m not quite used to it. In fact, I should probably —”

“O-oh!” Egyl sputtered, and ducked his face behind his wing as Robb pushed himself out of the water. “You know, I just remembered, I need to — um, report back to Glenn!”

“Glenn? I thought you were reporting to Victor.”

“Right! Victor, I mean!” He dropped his primaries just enough for Robb to see a glimpse of his eyes through the spread of feathers, before turning tail and rushing back out the doorway.

“What was that all about?” Robb muttered, perplexed, as he regarded the swaying curtain across the room.

“You frightened him. With your immodesty.”

Robb whirled back around to find Ba’Thraz, still reclined in the spring, shrugging indifferently. “I…. My what?”

“Your immodest behavior.”

“Im-modest behavior??” Robb repeated incredulously. “How have I possibly —”

Ba’Thraz’s gaze drifted rather pointedly downward from Robb’s face. Inferring his meaning, Robb hurriedly grabbed for his towel and covered himself.

“Excuse me, but you’re just as dressed as I was in there,” he countered, somewhat appalled. “And you’ve got a lot of nerve, really, calling me immodest. You hardly wear proper clothes in the daylight!”

“We Lisvan have scales that cover us. Sova like Egyl have feathers.”

“Okay. And Hyoms undress to have a bath! What of it? It’s normal for us.”

“Not all of the others are like you. Amalia screamed, and covered herself, when I entered the bath unaware of her presence.”

“That’s not the same! Amalia’s a girl!” Robb hissed. “Stop being obtuse. You loiter around in here almost as much as that strange fungus-man Sienna recruited. You know how this works. Haven’t you ever bathed with the other men in our party?”

“We have, yes…”

Ba’Thraz indicated towards the empty doorway.

“… But has Egyl?”

“B-but Egyl traveled with the ​​Knight of the Dusk Blue! For years! And Ser Izaac, his old master, is a Hyom. So there’s another explanation, I’m sure. H-He m-must’ve –”

“Robb,” Ba’Thraz interrupted, sparing him from having to continue. “You should be more direct with him. Egyl is rather simple-minded. He won’t understand.”

“He’s not—” Robb started to protest. “Wait, understand what?”

But Ba’Thraz just shook his head, and lowered himself back down into the water.

The sun was sinking below the horizon as the crew settled into their camp just outside of the bandits’ mountain stronghold. The usual chores of erecting tents and building a fire passed quickly, and a spirit of good cheer reigned.

Glenn, of course, appeared particularly elated by their successful recovery of the Seraph Armor, despite the setback of 50,000 arc that had come with it. He seemed eager to list off everything he knew about its ancient technology to anyone who would listen, and Lenne was evidently willing to indulge him. They sat together on an old woolen blanket, off to the side and far enough away that Robb couldn’t actually pick up on what they were saying. If Lenne was bored by his rambling, she didn’t show it, which Robb considered a credit to her noble upbringing.

Robb himself had chosen a seat on one of the logs they’d dragged in to surround the firepit, from where he’d observed the comings and goings of the rest of his clan-mates. Earlier that evening, Sienna had briefly vanished, only to return with a remarkable prize “borrowed” from Norgant’s henchmen: several large jugs of reasonable-quality mead. These were promptly dispersed around the fire, and generously poured into thermos caps and tin mugs. Victor had stepped up to claim his portion and retreated back to the edge of their camp, where he’d returned to strumming on his lute. The music was punctuated periodically by the sound of Tomke’s wheezing snores from a tent nearby.

Robb cradled his own mug close to his chest, his eyes drifting closed. A pleasantly warm feeling had settled in his belly somewhere into his second pour. He’d made it about halfway through a third one when he felt himself tipping backwards.

“Whoa there!”

Sienna seized his arm to hold him steady.

“Looks like someone’s had enough,” she scoffed, and reached over to confiscate his cup with her free hand. “Egyl, keep an eye on him, would you? Or he’s gonna eat dirt.”

Egyl, always eager to be helpful, extended a wing behind Robb’s back as Sienna released her grip.

“Are you quite alright, Robb?” he asked.

“Mm?” Robb rubbed at his temples languidly. “I’m good.”

Sienna chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you’re good. Lightweight.”

Mikah ventured back over to their side of the campfire, having put together some sort of unusual confection with a sweet she had roasted on a stick. She took her seat next to Sienna, her plate balanced on her lap.

“Okay. Somebody’s gotta explain this to me—” she insisted, and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “We know Ba’Thraz is a dad, right? But Glenn told me there’s no such thing as a female Lisvan! Is that true? Because how would that even work?”

“Hmm…” Sienna glanced around their circle before turning to regard their young comrade impassively. “Sounds like a question for Tomke.”

“Ew, no!” Mikah balked. “I don’t want to ask Grandpa about this. That’s so embarrassing.” She slid closer to Sienna, tugging on her sleeve. “Come on, Sienna, please!”

Sienna sipped her drink, unmoved.

“Ugh, fine.” Mikah scowled and took in a large mouthful of her dessert, declaring between bites, “If no one’s gonna tell me, I’ll just ask Ba’Thraz himself.”

Sienna’s expression curdled. She looked over her shoulder, confirming he wasn’t within earshot. “You really shouldn’t. Ba’Thraz doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“So? Neither does anyone else, apparently.”

“Mikah-”

“I’m serious. I’ll do it.”

Sienna clearly believed her, because after a moment’s deliberation she reluctantly caved. “Fine, kid… but you didn’t hear this from me, alright?”

Robb slumped back against Egyl’s wing, his mind wandering. He was starting to appreciate traveling in a group like this, all together. It was different from when it had just been him and Lenne, sure — but not necessarily in a bad way. For a long time, he’d been eager to just finish things up as quickly as possible, so the two of them could return to the castle. But now…

Across the campsite, Lenne was rising to her feet. She was laughing as she reached out to Glenn, helping him up too.

Things were different, yes.

Feeling something he wasn’t sure he could name, Robb turned back towards the fire. His shoulder jostled against Egyl’s side, and he shifted to lean further against him. His cheek brushed against the downy feathers on Egyl’s neck.

“Robb?”

He lifted his chin. “Yeah?”

Egyl opened his beak as if to say something, but hesitated. There were glimpses of the firelight reflected in his gray eyes.

“WHAT?!” bellowed Mikah, making both of them jump. “That’s so weird!”

Sienna, dismissive of these hysterics, rolled her eyes. “It’s just biology.”

“‘Just biology?’ But… that’s like… ugh! Egyl! Is it like that for the Sova, too??”

Egyl looked a bit dazed by this sudden inclusion in their conversation. “Ah… no.”

“Really?” Mikah leaned forward attentively. “So you guys do all the normal stuff then? Get married, have families?”

Robb noted with quiet displeasure that Egyl had withdrawn the wing that was behind his back. He forced himself to sit up a bit straighter.

“Yes. It’s rather the same as things are with Hyoms, I think,” Egyl answered. “In my village, at least, almost all of the Sova chose to marry and raise children.”

“Oh. Guess it’s just the Lisvan that are different, then.”

Apparently satisfied, Mikah returned to finishing her dessert. Egyl asked her something else, and Robb stopped paying attention. He repositioned himself to rest his head against his palm.

Things probably weren’t exactly the same for Sova and Hyoms, he figured. Didn’t the Sova hatch from eggs? And if they took their vows as seriously as they took any other oath, well… that could be another difference.

He thought about the other Sova that had lived in Egyl’s village. They did seem to have a very set way of life. But Egyl himself was proof there were occasional exceptions, wasn’t he?

“– Do Sova ever marry outside their people?” he wondered aloud.

Oh. He’d forgotten the conversation had moved on. Or he'd interrupted someone, because now everyone around the fire was staring at him, Egyl included.

“Pardon?”

“Where did that come from?” asked Sienna.

“Uh…” Robb had been going somewhere with this, but the thought seemed to be retreating from his mind. “You know… like… h-have you ever heard of that… happening…?”

Egyl blinked back at him, looking more owlish than ever.

“‘Outside their people?’ Oh, you mean like Hyoms?” Mikah contributed.

“…Or any other kind of people! I’m not- I just meant in general.”

“But not Lisvans, right? Cause I mean… that obviously wouldn’t work. Considering –”

“– Sorry to interrupt.”

Apparently, Raphael had appeared beside them at some point, carrying an armful of firewood. “Ser Egyl, could you lend me a hand?”

Egyl hurried to assist him, dismissing himself with a bashful wave of his wing.

Only Mikah watched him go. Sienna, who had been hiding her expression behind her cup for a while now, levied her gaze at Robb and snickered.

“What?” he mumbled, drawing his knees in close.

“Nothing.” She smiled enigmatically, tucking a few strands of her long red hair back behind her shoulder. “That was very smooth. Very subtle.”

He felt the back of his neck heating up. “I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t?”

“I wasn’t!”

Having drained the last of her own cup, she tipped back the mug she’d expropriated earlier. “‘Say, Egyl,’” she parroted smugly. “‘Do Hyoms and Sova ever get married?”

“I didn’t say that!” he objected.

“‘No reason. Just wondering.’”

“I just s-said—”

Mikah, finally catching on to Sienna’s implication, gaped at him. “Wha-at? Robb, are you and Egyl—?”

“No, I’m not doing this. This is— this is ridiculous. I’m going to bed.” Inelegantly, he pushed himself up onto his feet. “Good night.”

Robb could hear Sienna laughing at him as he stalked away, escaping to the relative safety of his tent. He buried his face in the pillow of his bedroll. At least he knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about. He knew his own intentions. It was only the drink that was making him flush.

Shadows moved across the walls of the tent, passing over him. Robb squeezed his eyes shut, determined to will himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Lenne was waiting for him on the dock.

Robb had spotted her while they were still a ways out from the shore. The first breath of sunrise was painting the sky in pastels, with hints of color scattering across the surface of the water, and her fiery hair glowed like a beacon in the low light.

Somehow, despite everything, he’d assumed she was only there to speak to the captain, or to make some request of the crew, until she locked eyes with him on the gangway, and stretched out her arms. Then he understood.

She said something as she tugged him close, but it came out as a muffled sigh with her face pressed into his shoulder. He tried not to mind the hired sailors that milled and muttered around them, completing their preparations to unload the cargo.

“—Sorry.” Pulling back, she tried again. “Welcome home.”

Robb murmured his thanks as she released him, and tried to muster a smile. Hers looked more genuine, certainly, but he’d seen that expression enough times to know that she was covering up a deep exhaustion. Things must have been pretty busy in his absence.

“Come on, let’s get inside.”

For the first time in ages, she accepted his arm when he offered it.

Hermit’s Isle was quiet at this hour — most of their clan was still asleep, save for a few early risers. Distantly, he could hear the jostling of pans in the mess hall as the kitchen crew set up for their morning shift. Lenne led him onward, down a staircase and through the winding corridors of their base.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m well. And you?”

“Oh. Well enough, too, I suppose.”

The hallway opened up into a large empty room, used as a hanger that stored the inactive Sky Armors. Glenn’s spot, he noted. Someone else must have been working down here recently — drafting supplies were scattered amongst the usual spare parts, and two rolls of parchment were covering the shop table. Lenne dragged together a few of the storage crates, motioning for him to join her.

“Glad we got that out of the way,” she intoned. “So… how are you really?”

He chuckled wearily, taking a seat across from her. “You don’t have to fuss over me, Lenne.”

She looked him over and frowned. “I don’t know. A little fussing is called for, I think.”

“I made it back in one piece, didn’t I?”

“I never doubted you would.”

In truth, she had never been one to fret much over anyone’s safety. Not because she was indifferent to it — though he had thought that once.

“I just wasn’t sure if something else might have happened,” she admitted. “When Egyl arrived before you, I didn’t know what to make of it.”

“Oh. But— I just dismissed him early. Wanted to finish up a few things on my own, that’s all. Did he not say as much?”

“He did. He told us the very same, actually. I just wasn’t sure I believed him.”

Robb reached for her hand, hoping to reassure her. “Ser Egyl would not lie to you.”

But Lenne gave him a feeble look, waving him off. “No, I don’t think he would,” she answered honestly. “But he’d stretch the truth, for your sake.”

Would he? Robb studied the concrete floor. Yes. He probably would.

“So… your time there, at the estate…” She leaned against a spare shelf behind her, using it as a backrest. “Tell me how it went, at least?”

He exhaled contemplatively, and settled into his seat. “It went about as you’d expect. Plenty of bureaucratic nonsense. Boring, a lot of it. Thoma kept to his word and refrained from killing me, and I kept to mine and restored his knighthood. All in all, I think I held the illustrious title ‘Lord of Flandern’ for six days, give or take a couple of hours.”

Six days too many, really. He wouldn’t admit this, but every second had increased his understanding of Lenne’s decision to run away from castle life all those years ago.

“I emptied out my father’s treasury. Though to be frank, there wasn’t as much in it as we’d hoped — he must have been burning through it over the years. But yes, I did have the soldiers load up anything I thought might be useful. The rest got taken into town and distributed. And having Egyl there, too… it was kind of him, that he offered to stay back. He ended up helping me sort through several of the other rooms.”

Lenne smiled softly. “Find anything interesting?”

“Not really. Some manuscripts, a couple of paintings. A lot of correspondence, which was all very dull. My father was evidently fond of sending letters. Nasty ones to his debtors…. simpering ones to people of authority… you know the sort. Oh, and we found some of my old books, as well.”

They’d been stashed in an old closet and clearly forgotten there, about a dozen of them. Silly as they were, Egyl had insisted he wanted to read them, much to Robb’s embarrassment. Somehow, his repeated explanations that they were mere children’s stories had only worked to strengthen Egyl’s resolve.

So, together they had sat on the floor and read a couple of them — or Egyl had read, at least, while Robb had watched his reactions from over the edge of the pages, and pitched in occasional commentary. When he’d finished, Egyl had traced his feathers lightly along the bottom of the inside cover, where Robb’s name had been scrawled in wobbly lettering.

I wish I could have seen you as a little one, he’d said. It seems like you were very sweet.

And Robb, more embarrassed yet, had ended that sentiment swiftly by recounting aloud how his father had once caught him reading under the covers and beaten him so badly, none of the servants could look him in the eye the next day.

“—Honestly shocking that he hadn’t thrown them away. I guess he couldn’t be bothered. Which is funny, because he could be quite organized when he wanted to be. Did you know, he had a gravesite already selected? We found the documents for it: a big plot next to my late mother, with a pre-ordered tombstone and everything. Marble, with a cherub carved on it. Just needed someone to add in the year.”

Robb shook his head, revulsed at the thought of it.

“He’s under a bush in the yard.”

Something passed across her face, familiar — anger, felt on his behalf, and a certain nebulous disgust for the world’s injustices. She used to make that expression when she’d catch the palace maids bullying him.

“… I’m glad you’re back,” she said simply.

“Me too.”

In the silence that followed, Robb found it was surprisingly easy to think of little, and feel even less. Lenne was still stewing, her brow creased in a furrow. But what could be done for any of this now?

“So, that was most of it, really. As for the estate itself, a good portion of the external structure was compromised by the raid, so I’m not sure what will happen to it. I made sure that any servants still on the premises were dismissed. And then, well, I renounced all claim to the place, and caught the next ship back.”

Shifting his attention back to her, Rob shrugged.

“Enough about me. Lenne, you look like you haven’t had a proper sleep in days. What did I miss?”

“Oh, quite a bit…” she groaned, bringing her hands up to her face. “I wasn’t sure if the news had reached you. Frederik has issued a final ultimatum against the resistance forces in Tormund. If the rebels do not stand down, he intends to activate the Grand Grimoire within the walls of the city.”

Frederik had been threatening retaliation for weeks, but this was an escalation of massive proportion. Tormund as they knew it would be virtually annihilated.

“Against his own people? Is he bluffing?”

“It’s hard to know what he’s thinking. But as long as there’s a chance that he’s serious, we cannot allow him to act. We’re organizing a preemptive strike against Raminas Tower.”

“How long do we have?”

“Two weeks time.”

Robb gave a low whistle. “No wonder you’re exhausted.”

“Everyone is. The preparations have been tense, to say the least. I’m working with Cameron and Sienna on the tower’s schematics, but with so little intel, we’re almost going into this blind. And the tactics team, they can’t reach a consensus at all — it sounded like their ‘collaboration’ almost came to blows yesterday! But you should ask your Egyl about that.”

Robb rolled his eyes. “Not you, too. Half of our party has been using me for sport. Are you joining in as well?”

Lenne blinked at him. “What— because of Egyl?”

“My Egyl, apparently.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease you, Robb,” she scoffed. “I just figured I could speak plainly. Have I not earned your confidence?”

“Of course you have my confidence. You’ll always have it.” Robb stuffed his hands into his pockets. “…You must have overheard them gossiping. Sienna, maybe, and—”

“No one was gossiping.”

“Then why would you assume—?”

“I ‘assumed’ because I have eyes in my head,” she replied curtly. “Did you think I haven’t noticed you two stealing glances? The looks, the smiling? You literally follow him around sometimes.”

“—I hardly think I…”

“And of course, he immediately volunteers to stay back with you at the estate. So, forgive me for having my suspicions. Be honest, are the two of you not—?”

There was laughter in her eyes — the good-natured sort, rather than cruelty — but Robb found himself suddenly unable to bear it. She must have expected a different reaction, because after a moment, looking at him, her expression began to fall.

“…No?”

He shook his head.

“…Oh. I misjudged this, didn’t I?”

“It’s fine,” he answered quietly. “Egyl is… very kind. It’s easy to mistake that for a deeper affection.”

“Oh, Robb…” She sighed, properly abashed.

“It’s alright, really. A flight of fancy. I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

“How long have you…? Actually, never mind. I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Her lips stretched into a thin line. “Does he know about your… feelings?” she asked instead.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“…Probably.”

“Have you spoken with him?”

“What, about this? Of course not. And I don’t intend to.”

He had thought that much would be obvious, but she seemed affronted on Egyl’s behalf. “Do you really think so poorly of him?” she chided.

“Lenne, he’s a Sova. It’s… unnatural. He’d be too polite to say it so bluntly, but…”

These sorts of attractions weren’t unheard of, per say, but they were still rather unusual. And whatever attractions there were, weren’t typically entertained. Among the lower classes, sure, these things were more permitted, but among the nobility?

Still, Lenne had that troubled look about her, like she was torn in how to answer him. He wondered at her hesitation. More than anyone, she knew the politics at play.

“You know him better than I do,” she said finally, “but Egyl has never struck me as someone who values propriety more than he values the people he cares about. If he doesn’t return your feelings, I think you can trust him to be civil about it. And if he does, well…”

Lenne chuckled. “I could do worse for a brother-in-law.”

Robb ducked his head, feeling himself flush.

“It’s your decision, anyway. Tell him, don’t tell him… It’s none of my business.”

He took that for what it was. “Look at us, going on about this. Hardly a time for distractions, is it? What with… Frederick, and all.”

“Ha…” Lenne huffed a laugh. “He is a problem, isn’t he?”

“—And Princess Celestia Valkyria is worrying over me. I won’t have it.”

“Well, if you ‘won’t have it’, I suppose I’ll direct my worry to our most pressing concerns.” She smiled, then, the real one that scrunched up her cheeks. “I trust you can sort yourself out.”

“Sorry. This is probably going to sting a bit.”

Robb gently parted the feathers on the side of Egyl’s neck, holding them in place as he reached for the iodine tincture and a cloth.

“Hold still, alright?”

The wound wasn’t as deep as he’d feared, but it wasn’t as shallow as he’d hoped, either. Egyl had been sparse with the details of its origin — a slash from a Blemmyae, he’d said that much. It was a clean cut, at least, about the width of Robb’s palm.

“I think we’d better do a couple of stitches, too,” he added regretfully, pressing the antiseptic into the wound.

“A-ah… if you think so.”

“It’s that, or we could try to wait for Amalia. I’m just not sure when she’ll…”

Robb didn’t finish the thought, reluctant to put words to what they both knew. Their healer was incapacitated, and would likely remain so for many hours, if not until sunrise. It was an undetected life thread, he’d heard. She’d been carried back to their camp unconscious, limp like a rag doll in Ba’Thraz’s arms.

Egyl glanced regretfully towards the door-flap of their tent. “…No, you’re right. Better to do it now.”

Robb nodded and returned to the opened med kit laid out on the floor, piecing through it. “I’ll do a topical anesthetic first, so you shouldn’t feel it too much.”

Hopefully. He was trying to put on a brave face, for Egyl’s sake. But the adrenaline was wearing off, and Robb was starting to feel his nerves.

There had been no shared meal tonight, no celebratory campfire, just distributed rations as they each retreated to their tents to recuperate. Glenn had probably intended to press on until they were back in Nhysa proper, but with several in their party too injured to continue, they’d had little choice but to bed down in the swampy forest “park” west of the city.

Robb himself was uninjured. He hadn’t been assigned to a combat role for this portion of the mission, instead managing supplies and transport with Magnolia and Tomke. He was, however, rather shaken, and unpleasantly damp. While their primary offense had been occupied clearing the path ahead, a charging Pigear had managed to ram him, gear and all, off the steep edge of the bank and into the murky river. Weighed down as he had been, it had taken some quick action from Raphael to keep him afloat until he and Tomke could haul him back out of the water. His clothes still weren’t dry, despite his best efforts to wring them out.

Robb fumbled with the case that held the forceps, struggling to get it open. It was distracting, the amount of energy it was taking just to keep his hands from shaking.

He cursed under his breath. “—Sorry. Almost ready.”

Closing his eyes, Egyl gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement. Robb felt a weight settle onto his lap, and he glanced down to see that Egyl had extended his wing slightly, resting it there.

Right. He could do this — he’d done it before. How many times? His own leg, once, when he had traveled with Lenne. A single stitch in Glenn’s eyebrow, after a bar fight broke out around them in Rockbottom. The gash in Kylian’s side, at the ruins of the Kindreld Monastery, when Kylian’s magic had been too depleted to call forth any of his healing power. Before he’d betrayed them.

He was a bit out of practice, but the muscle memory was starting to return as he pulled the first of the sutures into place. It was a clumsy process — holding back feathers with his forearm, trying not to block out the lamplight, and guiding the needle with one hand. Still, he managed well enough. The row of stitches took shape, somewhat tidy.

“Halfway there.”

Egyl, to his credit, was holding remarkably still as he closed up the wound. Robb wondered if it would leave a scar — maybe not, if he managed to do this well. The mark wouldn’t be visible, even if it did, but he’d know it was there.

“Okay. That’s… it’s done, I think.”

He clipped the last of the sutures, hearing Egyl sigh with relief as he pulled away to survey his work.

“Yeah. You’re all set. Just try to be careful with it, alright?”

Egyl turned his head, testing the range of motion around the injury, before his gaze found Robb’s again. Something about him looked slightly unreal in the dim light of the lantern. Bloodstained and disheveled as he was, he was very much still Ser Egyl, Knight of the Dusk Blue.

“Thank you,” he said warmly, and it made Robb’s stomach flip.

Gods help him. He was smitten.

Looking down, he discovered that Egyl’s wing was still resting on his thigh. It took great effort to stop himself from reaching down and trailing his fingers across it. Or doing something even more ridiculous, like throwing himself at Egyl like a swooning maid.

He turned, instead, and began to pack up the instruments. “I suppose we should call it a night, then. Glenn will probably have us up early tomorrow. Given we’re already behind schedule, I mean.”

Egyl furrowed his brow. “Where is your bedroll?” he asked.

“Um… hanging in one of the trees, I think.”

Like the rest of their camping supplies, their bedrolls had a little moisture proofing — enough to ward off some light rain, but certainly not enough for a dunk in a river. He was pretty sure Magnolia had strung it up somewhere when they set up the camp.

“—It’s fine,” Robb added preemptively. “I don’t need it.” He could sleep on the floor of the tent. He’d slept on worse.

Egyl stared at him incredulously. “It’s quite cold. And with your wet clothes, too?”

“Victor lent me something to change into. He dropped it off with the rations earlier.”

“Even so… that sounds rather uncomfortable.”

“We don’t have much in the way of extra bedding, unfortunately. Lenne already snagged the spare blanket for Amalia.”

“Well… there’s mine, at least,” Egyl offered.

Robb scoffed. “I wouldn’t kick you out of your bedroll. Especially injured.”

“Ah, no… I meant we could share.”

“…Oh.”

Robb knew his eyebrows must have shot up — it took him a moment to regain the presence of mind to school his expression.

Egyl, none the wiser, was already moving to unpack his gear. “It would be a little tight, but there’s enough space for both of us. It’d be easy enough to make it work.”

“I-I couldn’t impose on you like that,” Robb stammered. “But… um, th-thank you. For offering.”

“Eh? It’s not some… imposing imposition,” Egyl answered cheerfully. “It’s practical. You need some decent rest, too, and how could I sleep well, knowing you’re freezing on the ground? So maybe you’d be doing me a favor.”

Robb silently cursed Egyl’s magnanimity. “Please don’t worry about me. Like I told you, I’ll be fine, alright?”

Hoping that would settle the matter, Robb turned away before Egyl could offer any further objections and set about dealing with his own things. He quickly flipped through the stack of clothes he’d been left with: a tunic, some long pants. They weren’t exactly the right size, but they were dry, at least.

He worked at the buttons of his shirt, a draft of cold air greeting his skin as he tugged it off. It was too bad Victor hadn’t lent him a cloak, too. He could have used it like a blanket.

Egyl’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Robb?”

“Yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder.

Egyl was sitting on his unrolled sleeping bag, watching him. “…It’s something else, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“That… you know.”

Stripping off his wet breeches, he tossed them aside, not bothering to hang them. “Speak up, would you?”

“You’re just… you seem awfully tense.”

“What? I’m not tense.”

“It really seems like you are, actually—”

Exasperated, Robb yanked the tunic over his head and whipped back to face him. “Egyl, don’t you know what they’re saying about us?” he snapped. “The others, they…”

Recalling their surroundings, he dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. “—They think we’re enamored with each other! They’ve thought that for months! Months, Egyl! Don’t you get it? I can’t share a bedroll with you! Can you imagine what they’d assume then?”

Robb had expected more of a response to this revelation, this thing they’d been so determinedly avoiding, but Egyl was wholly unchastened. He hardly appeared surprised, even.“…Does that embarrass you?” he asked, his voice measured.

“Does it—?” Robb balked at the suggestion. “No! It’s not… of course it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Well… I mean… doesn’t it embarrass you?”

“No. What should it matter?”

Robb stared down at his knees. “…You don’t have to pretend for my sake. I know how these things work. Your reputation is important. For someone of your stature… it’s dishonorable.”

And that was that. He’d said the hard part for him, so Egyl wouldn’t have to. Maybe they could pretend this conversation had never happened.

But instead of a confirmation, he felt a soft brush of a feather to the side of his cheek. It rested there a moment, then slid under his jaw, directing him to look up again.

“I know some things about honor,” Egyl told him firmly. “There’s no dishonor in what I feel for you.”

Robb batted away the touch, hardly comprehending it. “Stop. You can’t mean that.”

“Sincerely, I—”

“—What are you even saying?”

“Robb.” Egyl shook his head slowly, confounded. “Is it so hard to believe that I would care for you?”

“Yes!” he answered, too forcefully, or too honestly, because Egyl flinched. “It’s… of course it’s hard. It’s absurd! I’m a Hyom, I have no title… I’m not even a noble anymore! I don’t have anything to my name. If somehow we make it through this mission, how could we… what would we even…?”

He probably could have continued, but instead slumped forward miserably, holding his knees against his chest. “…I’m fouling this up, aren’t I?”

Egyl, bless him, seemed to take this as the olive branch Robb had meant it to be. He drew himself in closer, and when Robb offered no resistance, carefully encircled him in his wings. It was a peculiar sensation, being hugged like that. The positioning was a little awkward — he was vaguely aware that his legs were in the way, forcing Egyl to lean over to reach him.

“No. You aren’t fouling it up,” he said gently. “Are you done, though, trying to convince me?”

Egyl waited until Robb nodded.

“Good! You know, I’m quite stubbornly stubborn. Much like you.”

Robb chuckled weakly in agreement. “Sorry.”

“None of that, now. You have nothing to apologize for,” Egyl insisted. “—I’ll show you something,” he said suddenly, and leaned back from him, his wings sliding up to rest on either side of Robb’s face. “Look at me, would you please?”

Robb did as he was asked, straightening up, and their eyes met for a moment before Egyl pushed in close again — much closer. His beak clacked into the side of Robb’s nose, and Robb pulled away, startled.

“—W-what?”

“Ah. That was harder than I meant to,” Egyl admitted sheepishly. “More like…”

He leaned forward again, slower this time, until their faces were pressed together lightly. Robb could feel Egyl’s breath against his cheek.

“…More like that,” Egyl whispered, pulling back. “We sometimes called it ‘billing’. But, ah, since you don’t have a beak… we can make do, like this. It’s… it’s part of Sova courtship.”

“Courtship?” Robb tried the word on. “Really?”

“Yes,” he answered, and he looked so earnest about it, too.

Emboldened, Robb lifted his hand, placing it tentatively on the side of Egyl's face. When Egyl leaned in to the touch, he ran his fingers experimentally through the soft feathers on his cheek before he pulled it back.

“Can I, Robb?”

“What?”

“Court you, I mean.”

Robb ducked his head. “Y-You don’t have to ask me like that,” he muttered.

“I want to. It’s proper, to ask.”

“Well… I don’t know.” He took a moment to reposition himself, shifting so they were sitting next to each other, his shoulder pressed against Egyl’s. “It’s a little late to ask now, isn’t it?” he said cheekily. “If we’re already beaking.”

“Billing.”

“—Billing, sorry. You probably should have done it a while ago, if you wanted this to look proper. The crew thinks you’ve already bedded me.”

Egyl lifted his brow thoughtfully. “Oh. I suppose we have a ways to catch up, then,” he answered. The tip of his wing settled low and deliberately on Robb’s back, making him suddenly quite conscious of his abandoned breeches and bare legs. He almost jumped when Egyl added, “Should I get on that?”

“…Egyl!” he gasped, scandalized.

But Egyl just chortled in return and, leaning back, laid down on top of his sleeping bag.

“Forgive me. It’s cute, how your cheeks… they go so pinkly pink, like that.”

“Wha—? D-don’t make fun of me! You—” Robb gave him a good, retaliatory shove, but elected to say nothing further. He didn’t trust himself to come up with something dignified.

Egyl chuckled, gazing up at Robb fondly. “Ah. I’m not in a rush. We can figure it out as we go.” He tucked his wings under his head and exhaled, contented.

Robb nodded, and for a while, just watched him, studying the curve of his shoulders and the slow rise and fall of his chest. He wasn’t sure what to feel, his mind and his heart each still catching up to the other. Were they really courting now? Had Egyl felt the same for him, all along?

Could he really just…?

“Egyl?” he said softly.

When Egyl turned his head, Robb leaned forward, bracing himself with one arm as he carefully bent over him. He held himself there, a few centimeters between them, before closing the distance and pressing his lips against the corner of Egyl’s beak.

“That’s what Hyoms do,” he explained, pulling back. “—Maybe you knew that already.”

“Oh. It’s lovely,” Egyl swooned. He reached up, his feathers brushing against a loose strand of Robb’s hair, and tucked it behind his ear. “You’re lovely.”

Robb blushed outright. “H-hardly—”

“Don’t argue with me, Robb, dear.” Egyl said.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned forward to kiss him again — on his forehead, his cheek — wherever he could reach.

“-obb!”

“Egyl! Robb!”

Robb turned towards the sound, his eyes blinking open. Victor’s face had appeared in the opening of their tent, sunlight streaming in through the gaps.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly. “The coffee’s ready. Huddle is in 10 minutes.”

“—Right. Thanks.”

The flap swung closed again.

Robb inhaled deeply, feeling the stretch in his chest and shoulders as an unfamiliar warmth filled him. Beside him, Egyl was stirring, too, his wing wrapped tightly across Robb’s back. He mumbled to himself groggily, tugging Robb closer.

“Ah… is it morning?” he asked.

“Yeah. Time to get up.” Robb slid his arm free from under the sleeping bag. Reaching out, he ruffled the feathers on top of Egyl’s head affectionately. “I think there’s breakfast, though,” he added. The smell of wood-fire and sausages was starting to waft in.

“Oh!” Egyl replied, already more awake.

Resigned, Victor took his seat by the campfire outside.

He dug in his pocket, and handed Sienna 500 arc.