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“Nay?” I blinked, trying to force my eyes to focus. I could tell he was there; our energy had mingled enough times that his presence was an extension of my own.
“Right here, buddy,” Naolin murmured, taking my hand and squeezing.
Buddy? Amari’s braid, how bad did I fuck up? I don’t even remember who I was mending. The last thing I remembered was flying for Tyrrendor to put down the rebellion. Everything hurt, but the pain was mostly centered in my chest. Breathing was an effort. It didn’t feel like burnout, though, which made me wonder what was wrong.
“Can you let Nolon know he’s awake?” His voice was mild and pleasant, polite in the way he only got when he was furious. Shit.
What the fuck had I done that Nolon had to get involved?
There were footsteps. Going away footsteps, coming closer footsteps. “He’s just woken up, General.” Naolin let go of my hand.
“Amari bless,” my mother’s voice said from the doorway. It was strained, which wasn’t unusual when we were dealing with each other, but I couldn’t remember having said anything to her recently. “Brennan?” My name was almost - gentle - in her mouth.
I blinked. “Mom?” I could make out the dark shape of her, and she got clearer as she moved closer. She looked almost as tired as I felt. “What - where am I? What happened?”
“Basgiath, in the Healer’s Quadrant,” she said. “Those blasted Tyrs almost killed you. Fortunately Naolin managed to help you hold yourself together long enough to get you back here, and Nolon mended you the rest of the way. It took awhile, they kept you asleep until it was done.”
“Oh,” I said. That explained why I felt so groggy, and why I hurt so much. “Why are you here?”
“You almost died, Brennan,” she said. “Tairn told Aimsir, and of course I came.”
“Tairn?” I echoed, confused. “Marbh?”
“Your mate was very worried,” he said. “I knew you would be fine.”
“Naolin’s stayed right by your side the whole time,” she told me. “Even when I arrived, he wouldn’t leave you.”
Suddenly buddy made sense, and the way he’d let go of my hand when she came in. Gods, Naolin had been worried sick about me and also had to put up with my mother thinking we were nothing more than best friends? All of the reasons I’d had to keep it from her, from most people; protecting my career through plausible deniability, letting people think that the Sorrengail legacy might continue through me - all of that seemed ridiculous in the face of this moment. “It’s because we’re married, Mom,” I said.
She blinked at me. “What?” Naolin’s jaw dropped. He’d accepted all my reasons for hiding our relationship, even though he hadn’t seen the need himself. His mother had been at our handfasting.
“Just after I graduated, we were sent to Tirvanne for a few days, and we got handfasted while we were there.” I held out my hand, palm up, revealing the rune-scar there.
“Brennan, you - but your career,” she said, because of course that was the first thing she’d think of.
“My life is more important than my career,” I told her. “I almost took the secret to my grave, and Naolin had to sit by my bedside while you talked about what a good and loyal friend he was, because I was a chickenshit coward worried about my career.” No one would officially object if Naolin and I were publicly a married couple, or if I made it clear I had absolutely no interest in fathering children. But riders who had kids, or who were on a path that presumably led to marriage and children, were given better opportunities and a greater chance at promotion. It was subtle, and it was insidious, and there was a reason that Naolin was still a captain, despite his hard work and powerful signet, that had everything to do with his disinterest in women.
“Bren, you’re not,” he started to object, twining his fingers through mine. “You had a good reason.”
“I thought it was a good reason,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “I was wrong.”
“I understand how this experience might make you feel different right now, Brennan, but don’t do anything drastic,” my mother said.
“Drastic, like… telling my mother?” I challenged. “You married the love of your life, and so have I.”
“Brennan, it’s not the same -“
“Lilith, if you would please wait to scold your son until he’s been out of Malek’s clutches for at least a day or two, I would appreciate it,” Nolon said from the doorway.
“Did you know about these two?” she demanded.
“The mender and his siphon?” Nolon raised both eyebrows at her, amusement coloring his expression. “More than I care to; you’ve never seen them after a long mending session. All over each other, more dirty jokes than you could imagine. As it should be.”
“And that’s fine here, but now that he’s graduated….”
“I graduated ten years ago,” Naolin pointed out dryly. “Still only attracted to men.”
Nolon gave Nay his best please don’t help look. “Honestly, Lilith, having a solid partnership with a siphon will do more for a mender’s career than any appearance of willingness to continue a legacy, and Brennan has two sisters and a happy marriage, which is more than most riders can say.”
Mom blew out in frustration, the way she did when someone made a point she didn’t know how to counter. Usually it was Dad who managed it. “If you think so.”
“I do, and I’ll say the same thing to anyone who asks me. Also that sending a mender into battle is a foolish risk; this gift is rare enough that it should be protected. Half an inch to the left in either direction and we would’ve lost him, and it would’ve been a terrible waste.”
“I’ll mention that,” she said. “Maybe they’ll listen if it’s coming from you.”
“It’s Tairn that’s the problem,” Naolin volunteered. “He and Sgaeyl are invaluable in battle, and Brennan travels with us.”
“It was hard enough being separated when he was on active duty and I was still a cadet,” I added. “I have no desire to hang back somewhere while Naolin’s fighting alone.”
“I’m far from alone, love,” he pointed out, as he always did when I made this argument.
“Without me,” I countered, as I always did.
“Hopefully,” Mom snapped, “there will be fewer battles, now that the rebellion has been put down.”
I was too tired to get into an argument with anyone, even one I’d had a dozen times. Arguing made it even harder to breathe. “Right now I’m not going anywhere or fighting anyone,” I said.
“You need to rest,” Nolon told me, handing over a flask of pain tonic. “Courtesy of my lady wife, with her compliments. You, drink that. Lilith, out.”
“He’ll be all right?” Mom asked, walking toward the door.
“Yes, now that he’s woken up, the danger is past.”
“Good. Good. I need to get back to Calldyr. Brennan, you focus on healing.”
“Yes, Mom.” I swallowed the pain tonic, crinkling my nose at the taste. Naolin was settling into the chair at my side, still holding my hand, as she left.
When I woke up again, Naolin was still there, reading. He looked up as I shifted position. “Hey, gorgeous. How are you feeling?”
“Better. What time is it?”
“Half two in the afternoon.”
“What time was it the last time I woke up? I think I forgot to ask.”
“When your mother was here? That was yesterday evening, just past seven. It’s four days after the Battle of Aretia.”
“What would I do without you?” I sighed, reaching for him. This time he came close enough to kiss me, stroking my hair.
“You wouldn’t know what day it was, for one thing,” he said, grinning until the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Probably you’d get less sleep.”
“And eat fewer meals,” I agreed, smiling back. “And the sex would be lacking.”
“Good thing you’re stuck with me, then, hm?”
“I’m the luckiest.”
“Pretty sure that’s me, actually.”
“Agree to disagree on that bit.” I let my mind drift as he pulled the chair closer and sat back down. “Why haven’t they recalled you to the field?”
“They don’t need me. Also I wouldn’t go, even if they did, so I suppose it’s a good thing that they don’t.”
“You could tell them your husband is in the infirmary.”
“I was prepared to, if they tried to make me leave you. But my mender and partner being in the infirmary seems to have been enough. Rebellion’s all put down, anyway, so they don’t need me to kill any more of my countrymen.” Naolin scowled. He hadn’t come right out and said that he disagreed with the Navarran tactics for dealing with the Tyrrish uprising, but I knew they bothered him. “Lucky for them you made it, you know. I would’ve been a lot less hesitant if they’d succeeded in killing you.”
“Sorrengails are tough,” I shrugged. “It’ll take more to take me out than a badly-aimed arrow.”
“No doubt, love, no doubt.” He tucked a bookmark in where his finger had been and set it down on the bedside table. Recovering from complex mending had apparently been enough to score me a private room, something I hadn’t thought about before. Probably it was good that I hadn’t had that particular argument with my mother in the general infirmary.
”So,” I said. I could see the tension in his shoulders.”Mom knows, which means Dad’ll know, and I give the girls about five minutes after that before they weasel it out of Dad, assuming Mom doesn’t outright tell them. And shit, Nay, Mira should be arriving any day now. Whenever Conscription Day is. Soon. She’ll shove her way in here and she’ll have all the questions, and probably most of them will be inappropriate.”
”I look forward to them,” he grinned. “Unlike you, I am very difficult to embarrass, and I love to brag about my gorgeous husband and his impressive coc-“
”Naolin Aisreigh, don’t you dare!” I yelped. “That’s my little sister we’re talking about!”
Naolin burst out laughing. “Your face, Amari’s tits, your face, Bren,” he gasped out, laughing so hard he snorted, which set him off again. “Do you think I would actually do that to you?” he asked once he’d managed to more or less stop, though occasional trickles of snorting laughter kept seeping through.
”Yes.”
”Okay, true. But probably not with your little sister. Probably. Only because I also have a sister and I don’t want you doing the same thing.”
”Not that I would, or that you would care if I did, But you better watch out, sir. Mira is one thing, but Violet thinks I hung the moon and am as pure as the driven snow and I’m not interested in changing her mind.”
“I’ll behave with Violet, I promise. I won’t break the baby. Based on your stories, though, I think Mira and I will get on like a house afire.”
”Or you’ll hate each other on sight. There’ll be no middle ground.”
Naolin snickered. “We both love you; that’s halfway to friends already. Oh, and we have new orders since this morning. If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect your mother was pulling strings.”
“Lilith Sorrengail would never.”
“Oh, I know. If someone asked her, she’d probably tell them to make life harder for you on purpose.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I muttered.
“I wouldn’t either, especially after yesterday. If she gets me killed, she won’t have to worry about your promotion prospects, no matter what Nolon said about menders and siphons.”
“I don’t think she’d go that far, my heart. She’s still my mother, even if she spends most of her waking hours as General Sorrengail. If something happened to you, I’d be useless.”
“You say the sweetest things.” He kissed my forehead and handed me the sealed orders.
I broke the seal and unfolded the pages, stared at them in confusion. “Nay,” I said slowly, “what do yours say?”
“What?”
“Your orders? I imagine you have them too?”
“Yeah, why?” He grabbed another sealed missive and waved it at me.
“What do they say?”
He cracked them open and laughed, a short, sharp bark. “To Major Naolin Aisreigh Sorrengail, greetings,” he read aloud. “In recognition of your incredible… blah, blah, blah…” The lilting Tyrrish accent that always wove through his speech got thicker with each word as his surprise registered. “They’re givin’ me a feckin’ medal! Fer savin’ yer sorry arse!” He snorted. “Buncha nonsense about bravery above and beyond an’ whatnot.”
“Thought you liked my arse,” I retorted, laughing. “Apparently they’re also giving me one for having my sorry arse saved. Or because they shot me; I’m vague on the precise details. Something something noble sacrifice for Navarre whatever, here’s a promotion and a medal and a new name?”
“You got one too?” He was struggling to keep the sincerity out of his face, to cling to the humor he found safest when anxious or upset.
I nodded, maintaining eye contact. “Mine says, ‘To Captain Brennan Aisereigh Sorrengail, greetings.’ You outrank me; it should be the other way round.”
He snorted. “With your legacy? I’m lucky my name survived at all.” I watched as the mischievous sparkle successfully battle the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. “We’ll have the same name on our dress uniforms; that won’t be confusing at all.”
“Wait until we’re the same rank,” I grinned back at him. “We’ll be the Majors Sorrengail. When Mira makes it out of the quadrant and we’re all at the same stuffed-shirt event, it’ll be hilarious. Maximum confusion, minimal effort. Especially if my parents are there too!”
We both laughed at that, and I saw the shine gradually coming back. “They - Bren, somebody - your mom? Do you think?”
“Her or Nolon,” I said, taking his hand. “Doesn’t matter who, I guess it just means - no more hiding, Nay. I’m tired of it; I want everybody and their fucking cat to know I’m yours and you’re mine and… fuck the medals and the promotion and all of that, this is what really matters to me. Naolin Sorrengail.”
“Ach, m' anam,” he rasped, clinging to my hand. I pulled him closer, dropping my orders on the bed and tugging at him until he climbed into the bed with me, claiming my mouth with a ferocious anguish I’d never seen from him. “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, pulling back the smallest possible amount, his gasping breath warm on my lips. I ran my hand across his cheek, stubble rasping across the callouses, and then pulled him closer as he sobbed into my neck, mingling tears and kisses in equal measure. He lapsed into Tyrrish, murmuring in garbled gasps that I could only make out bits of, enough that I eventually worked out that it was a prayer of thanksgiving to Amari, one of the long ritual ones Dad had talked about but I’d never actually heard.
I stroked his hair and murmured soft affection until his sobs eased and his breathing slowed. The tension drained out of his body, shoulders first, until he was collapsed boneless on top of me like a stocky Tyrrish blanket.
Had he slept since I’d been hurt? Probably not, unless Nolon had made him, and Mom had said something about his never leaving my side.
He was heavy, but pleasantly so, grounding me in my body and in the moment, the steady rhythm of his breathing and the top of his hair brushing my chin.
I dozed for a while, waking when the mage lights flickered on at sunset. Naolin had rolled to his side but had his arm draped across my chest, fingers curling possessively into my ribs. Our separate sets of orders were still within reach, slightly crumpled. I picked them up, sorted them back into proper order, and went back to actually reading mine. On the second page, once all the nonsense about the promotion and medal and whatnot had run its course, it declared that Captain Aisreigh Sorrengail, which was now somehow me rather than Nay, should report to the Basgiath Healer’s Quadrant to be installed as the mender-in-residence once he was medically cleared to return to duty. At least that would be easy, since I was already in the Basgiath Healer’s Quadrant. Also I would be teaching a new course on dragon medicine to both riders and healer cadets, because apparently all the work I’d been doing studying dragon anatomy as I mended their injuries hadn’t gone unnoticed. So much for having a hobby.
“I hear you’re after my job, Captain,” Nolon said from the doorway. I looked up from the papers to see him smirking at me.
“Well, somebody needs to make you retire, old man,” I retorted with a grin. “Let somebody young and fresh take over. Go bother your grandchildren.”
He snorted. “You must be feeling better if you’re willing to have that great lump of a Tyr sleeping half on top of you.” He came over, looking me up and down. “What say you?”
“Much better, thanks to you.”
“If I hadn’t put you back together, I’d never get a chance to retire,” he grumbled. “This way I can teach you the right way to keep this place running and the healers in line, and get you and the new head of physicians working together before year’s end.”
“And then both you and Winifred can retire.”
“Exactly. We’re too old to deal with all you young hotshots trying to get yourselves killed. Little bird told me your Tyr’ll be teaching signets, which is the second best thing a siphon can be doing after supporting a mender. He can keep some of those new-bonded firsties from blowing themselves and their neighbors up.”
“That… sounds nice.” I sighed, running my fingers through Naolin’s hair, thinking about a future where we’d be able to sleep in the same bed, in the same place, every night. It would’ve seemed impossible just a week ago.
“Except for the part where we’re exposing innocent cadets to this hooligan,” Nolon said, shaking his head at Naolin.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep him in line. He’ll be walking around with the Sorrengail name, and my mother would pitch an absolute fit if something happened to sully it.”
Nolon laughed, and Naolin lifted his head, blinking sleepily up at me. “What’d I miss?”
“Nolon thinks you’re a hooligan,” I said.
“That’s not news.”
“I’m stealing his job.”
“Oh? Good for you.”
I laughed. “Go back to sleep, my heart.”
His head dropped back to my chest, and I smiled softly as his breathing steadied.
“Get some rest, Brennan,” Nolon told me. “I’ll put you to work tomorrow.”