THORNS & ROSEHIPS
Novel excerpt; 1614 words
Tenalach hummed softly, a slow tune that rumbled in his chest as he stretched across the sheets. He rested his chin on his palm, elbow propped against a pillow, staring down at the soft expression on his sleeping companion’s face. It was a rare sight to see anything other than a scowl on Sorin’s face - Tenalach wanted to savor this moment. He twirled a dark strand of Sorin’s hair around his finger, remembering the way it felt to have those strands tickle the small of his back just hours earlier.
A sleepy sound escaped Sorin’s throat, scratchy with overuse, his green eyes blinking blearily into the blue-grey moonlight that filtered through the window. “Ten?” His eyes slowly focused on Tenalach’s face, a small smile pulling at the corner of Sorin’s mouth.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Tenalach greeted, pressing his lips to Sorin’s temple. “How are you feeling?”
Sorin grunted, keen to let that be a sufficient answer. His eyes fell closed again, his tongue peaking out to wet his lips. Tenalach watched the movement with rapt attention. “You?”
“Me?” A soft chuckle reverberated through Tenalach’s chest, filled with mirth and warmth. “I just had the best night of my life, darling. Can’t wait to tell you all about it. Dashing young men, sweet wine, the rush from a successful hunt - You know, I may just write a song about it.”
Sorin opened one eye just a sliver, and just that look was enough to make Tenalach’s heart stutter. “Hm,” The warden helpfully supplied, letting his eye fall closed once more and settling further into the mattress. “Like to hear it.”
“I’ll be sure to finish it soon, then.” Tenalach brushed his fingers across Sorin’s forehead, catching a few loose strands of hair and tucking them away from his face. “In the meantime, go back to sleep. There’s still a while left until dawn.”
Another soft grunt was Sorin’s sleepy response, turning his head just slightly to chase after the feeling of Tenalach’s fingers in his hair. He seemed already halfway to dreamland, and the way Sorin’s lips parted just so slightly as he slept overwhelmed him with warm affection.
The feeling was short-lived, however, quickly replaced by a gnawing feeling deep in his core. He couldn’t help but feel that something about this was wrong, and as much as he so desperately wanted to spend the rest of his days lounging in Sorin’s strong arms, he couldn’t ignore it. Chewing lightly on his still kiss-swollen lower lip, Tenalach set about slipping out of the bed. Thankfully, the frame managed not to squeak or groan with the shifting of his weight, but he struggled to untangle himself from the sheets.
His toes met the frigid floor in increments, Tenalach holding his breath until both his feet were safely touching the ground. Having successfully extricated himself from the bed without disturbing Sorin, Tenalach felt his breath pass by his lips in a silent sigh. His cheeks burned with shame at the thought of leaving Sorin while he slept, but he pulled his boots on all the same. It would be selfish to stay, he told himself. He has more important things to focus on.
The thought chased itself in circles around his mind, repeating in the voices of everyone he’d ever disappointed: His mother, cold and bitter; his etiquette tutor, stern and distant; his father, enraged and breathless; Enaya. Enaya, soft and cruel. Enaya, venomous and harsh. Enaya.
His breath caught in his throat, and his fingers began to shake too much to grasp the laces of his boots. The room spun around him, and Tenalach couldn’t breathe. A pained squeak escaped him, fingers clawing at his own throat as he struggled for even the smallest gasp of air. Her hands were around his neck, her breath in his ear. He could smell her perfume in the air, see her lips forming the shape of his name, his True Name. Over and over, she repeated it. Over and over, forcing him to act on her whim.
No! He wanted to scream it. No more! I am your puppet no longer! His vision blurred around the edges, her fingers squeezing tighter around his throat. He could feel himself listing to the side, legs no longer strong enough to keep himself upright. On some level, he could feel himself tense, preparing to hit the floor, but he was too far gone - Enaya had him in her claws, he couldn’t escape.
But the floor never rose up to meet him. Halfway down, something wrapped around his middle, and Tenalach didn’t have the strength to fight it. Something else, something warm and firm was pressed against his back. In the back of his mind, he could hear Enaya’s voice shrieking, the sound chasing all others from his perception. All she had ever allowed was for her to be his entire world.
That warmth, though. It encapsulated him, soothing his tensed muscles and calming his quivering fingers. His whole body ached, his vision was still dark, and the screaming - that wasn’t Enaya’s screaming.
The scent of worn leather and campfire smoke washed over him, and his surroundings clicked into place. He could breathe again, but his throat was cracked and dry. Every beautiful breath ached. Had he been the one screaming?
The something wrapped around his waist squeezed a bit tighter, and now he could feel warm breath brushing the back of his neck, he could register the voice softly calling out to him, “Ten, Ten, it’s okay. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
Tenalach sucked in a shaking breath, and his shoulders slumped. He dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, the corners of his eyes burning. “Sorin,” he breathed, his voice sounding foreign in his own ears, shaking and vulnerable. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
“Hm,” Sorin whispered noncommittally against Tenalach’s shoulder, clutching him tightly to his chest, the both of them curled around each other on the floor. “Are you okay?”
“I’m,” Tenalach started to lie, to say he was absolutely fine, but he found he couldn’t bring himself to string the words together. Instead, he settled for shaking his head side to side, letting the tears building in his eyes gather and spill over down his cheeks.
The two of them sat like that for a long while, Sorin curled around Tenalach like a protective shield, Tenelach leaning into Sorin’s touch. They stayed like that until Tenalach’s breathing evened out, and the tears stopped falling, and then a few minutes longer after that.
Eventually, into the dark of their shared room, with dawn just about to spill her first rays through their window, “Come back to bed?” The question was soft, with no expectations, Sorin pressing his nose into the hollow beneath Tenalach’s ear, warm breath tickling the hair on his neck.
Absently, Tenalach nodded, making no move to struggle as Sorin maneuvered an arm behind his knees and scooped him up. He barely registered the movement until his head was slowly lowered onto a pillow, the blankets pulled up over him. “Wait,” he said, voice smaller than he’d heard it in a long, long time. “We have to go. We agreed to leave at dawn.”
Sorin climbed into bed beside him, pulling Tenalach to him. “You need rest.”
Uncertainty gnawed at Tenalach, but he couldn’t deny the way his eyelids were drooping, and resting his head on Sorin’s chest did sound incredibly inviting. He allowed Sorin to pull him into his side, arm wrapping around his shoulders. He allowed himself to rest his cheek on Sorin’s chest, to curl into his warmth. He allowed Sorin to press a kiss to the top of his head before settling into the mattress, one last deep breath lifting Tenalach before slowly relaxing.
He turned his eyes up towards Sorin’s face one last time before succumbing to sleep, but only managed to catch a glimpse of the inked vines and blossoms wrapping themselves around his throat before his eyelids were too heavy to keep open. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders, both for what he had been about to do, and for what he had already done.
“Sleep well, Ten,” Sorin whispered, the words stirring the hair on top of Tenalach’s head. The tender warmth in Sorin’s voice clenched at Tenalach’s heart, filling him with affection and desire for the man whose heart beat steadily beneath his ear.
“There’s something I should tell you, Sorin.” The words were out before Tenalach could catch them.
“Hm?” Sorin’s fingers traced shapes into the skin of Tenalach’s shoulder.
Tenalach couldn’t open his eyes to see Sorin’s face when he told him, “My name isn’t Tenalach.” From the way Sorin stilled beneath him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Sorin didn’t say anything, patiently waiting for him to continue.
“Tenalach is the name I chose for myself when I moved here.” A yawn pushed its way up his throat, interrupting his explanation. He couldn’t stay awake much longer. “You can still call me that if you want, I’d honestly prefer it, but I think you deserve to know. My parents called me Rioghnan.” It wasn’t his True Name, but Sorin was a good man. Even if Tenalach refused to give anyone else his True Name, Sorin at least deserved this much honesty from him. He couldn’t tell him everything, but this little piece of truth would have to be enough.
“Rioghnan,” Sorin repeated, slowly, as if testing the feel of it in his mouth.
Tenalach hummed his affirmation, listening to Sorin repeat his name in that soft way of his until sleep finally pulled him into a blissfully dreamless oblivion.