Chapter Text
Alphinaud had been at perpetual odds with Alisaie for what seemed like their entire lives. Each of them struggled to be independent and individual, despite the assumptions of the world that they should be treated as a single unit just because they'd shared a womb. When Alisaie huddled next to him in their freezing Garlean makeshift prison, shivering and crowding close, he thought it might be the first time she'd voluntarily hugged him since they were small children.
Not that they weren't devoted to one another, but theirs was a prickly sort of love, ever present but unacknowledged. At least they'd grown far less disdainful of one another since first journeying forth from Sharlayan, but they were still more like to argue than agree. And far more like to tease than to touch. Yet despite how long he'd spent pushing her away, figuratively and literally, it felt shockingly right and good to have her there against him.
For a time he simply let her lean there, knowing she was pretending as hard as she could that this wasn't an embrace. If he put his arm around her, she'd snarl and shove him away to maintain her dignity and pride.
But it was so cold, and they were left alone for so long. Alphinaud couldn't feel his hands and feet anymore, the skin of his face so frozen it felt like it might crack if he changed his expression. Alisaie had stopped shivering beside him, and he was certain that was a very bad sign.
Surely their captives didn't intend for them to die in this miserable hole, not when they held such value as living hostages. But it was always possible a mistake had been made about how long the twins, with their slight bodies, could survive the cold.
He finally said to hell with her pride, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hauling her closer. She sighed heavily, but didn't fight the hold, and that alone told him how very frozen she was.
"I have an idea," he said, the words coming slowly as if his tongue had frozen too. "But you're not going to like it."
It took her a moment to respond, and when she did her voice was as sluggish as his. "What's that, then?"
"If I sit behind you, with my legs on either side of yours, I can open up my jacket and at least partially cover you with it," he suggested. "We'll be closer, and you'll have an extra layer, so it will be warmer."
"I will. What about you?" She twisted to look up at him, scowling. The heat of her anger seemed to warm her, and her next words were clearer. "You are not going to nobly sacrifice yourself for me. I won't allow it."
"I'll still be better off with you that close," Alphinaud insisted. He'd known she would argue - sometimes he thought she'd argue with him if he said the sky was blue on a clear day. "If we can improve either of our chances, even a little, we'd be foolish not to do so."
"Then why don't I sit behind you?" she retorted. "It's not as if you're any bigger than I am." She struggled up out of his hold, as if she meant to do exactly that.
"Now, hold on," Alphinaud protested, and then couldn't find the next words to say. She was right, it didn't really matter which of them took the outside position. He had no more right to sacrifice himself for her than she did for him.
They could argue until they were blue in the face and neither of them would convince the other. And frankly, if it came down to a physical struggle, she had the advantage over him. He wasn't soft by any means, but he was a pure mage and she was a swordswoman. It made a difference.
"Hush. I have a better idea." She moved in front of him, kicked his feet until he stretched out his legs from his tight huddle, then plopped down onto his lap with her knees on either side of his hips.
Startled by the utterly unexpected move, Alphinaud raised his hands to her waist to steady her out of pure instinct. "Alisaie!" he squeaked, cheeks flaming at the intimate position. She was right up against him, legs spread wide. It was the sort of position people might use for sex, not to cuddle up to a sibling. Which was probably not a thought even appropriate to have occurred to him, yet it occurred nonetheless.
She was already undoing her jacket. "This way we can both wrap our coats around each other, and have the benefit of sharing warmth with fewer layers between us. Don't be a prude, Alphinaud."
That flustered him further. If she was accusing him of being prudish, it was because she knew his thoughts had gone in such a prurient direction. Which meant her thoughts had also gone there, and this position really was as lewd as he'd imagined. Yet she did have the right of it; they would both be much warmer this way.
Sighing, he gave in and unfastened his jacket as well. Lewd position or not, it wasn't as if they were going to have sex. Better to do everything they could to survive, and if someone found them thus, well, what difference did it make what their Garlean captives thought of them?
It took them a few tries to find the best way to accomplish their goal, but they finally settled with Alisaie's arms wrapped around Alphinaud's waist beneath his jacket, and his over her shoulders with his hands tucked under her collar at her nape. Their jackets overlapped at the sides, and though they were both painfully cold, ever so slowly the air inside their coats warmed.
There was not so much as a breath between them, torsos plastered together, heads resting against each other's shoulders. If he'd ever been this close to her before, he couldn't remember it. Perhaps only in the womb, where they must surely have been wrapped around one another in the close confines.
She smelled of frost and wet wool, and a sharp ozone scent that he associated with aether, probably from using her magic when they'd battled earlier. Beneath that was something feminine, sweeter and more delicate, though she'd hit him if she ever realized he'd applied such adjectives to her.
He'd never been this close to anyone, in fact, and it felt disturbingly intimate. She kept wiggling her hips, making small adjustments to get more comfortable. Some hindbrain part of him took notice, despite his best efforts to ignore it.
This was his sister. His twin, his other half, his beloved rival. There should be no part of Alphinaud that roused in interest at the fact that Alisaie was soft and feminine and pressed up against him in the most painfully intimate way.
He thanked all the gods that the searing cold of the concrete beneath him made his cock shrink and his balls retreat, because he had the discomfiting certainty that otherwise he'd be physically responding.
It was something that had been happening more and more to him lately, stray thoughts or attractive people walking by causing a reaction he couldn't control. Annoying as it was, usually he welcomed it as a sign that his growth spurt would surely hit soon. Today it left him squirming in shame, heart pounding so hard he was surprised she didn't comment on the way it thumped against her chest.
Then he realized hers was racing just as fast, judging by the pulse point he could see fluttering in her neck. Surely she could not be reacting similarly. Mayhap it was a side effect of the cold, her body working hard to try to get blood to her chilled extremities. Yes, that must be it, and it was why she'd not commented on his flustered condition.
Closing his eyes, he tucked his face into the side of her neck, doing his best to ignore the ugliness of the killing collar around her neck. She did the same, trying to conserve as much warmth as they could. Her breath puffed against the sensitive skin, making him shiver for a different reason than the cold. Alphinaud breathed deep of her scent, and wondered if it would be the better part of two decades again before the next time he held her so close.