Flame and Snow

Chapter 10: Talfryn

Chapter 10: Talfryn

He figured he’d pissed Akton off when they stopped for lunch and Akton sat with his back toward Talfryn. He tried to interpret it as unfortunate but also a sign that Akton felt safe enough around him to turn his back on him. Talfryn ate slowly, chewing over how to fix what he’d done, and took a swig from a bottle of sun water.

It was similar to alcohol, a cleansing potion he and Glenna used to mix with other spells. Sun water relaxed, and it eased, and it burned like the sun. A drop or two in a spell and it would aid recovery and help with pain—give most people more than that and it became a nearly unsoothable burn.

But Talfryn wasn’t like most people. He could drink the stuff, and a sip here and there helped with nerves. Right now, his body was confused. Excitement coursed through him from the travel, and boredom from the long hours walking through similar scenery. He was concerned about being taken seriously at Ivels on account of his small-town origins, fearful of what was going on with the recruitment, and intensely drawn to Akton. Usually if he found someone he liked he knew right away the outcome—no traveler to Teorg stayed long, and they either accepted or declined Talfryn’s advances.

He was not used to dealing with people like Akton.

Before Talfryn was finished eating Akton stood, slung his various packs back over his shoulders, and set out on the road again. Talfryn scrambled to put his food back and grab all his things, then wondered whether he should even bother to catch up to Akton. He walked behind him for a while, giving him space, thinking.

He’d only been trying to set him at ease, bringing up shifters. Akton had to have heard him defend them. Talfryn had thought starting a conversation would get Akton to open up, feel safe enough around him. Bond a little.

It had backfired, obviously. Talfryn didn’t really have any way to repair it except to maybe cook something a little nicer to eat later. He’d taken a few of the chives and they were hanging from his pack by a string to dry as he walked. Akton had looked at him oddly but a little seasoning went a long way to making food edible. And Talfryn knew the longer they traveled, the more stale their supplies would get.

A decent meal might break the silence again.

So Talfryn kept an eye out as they walked. Most things were young still, but half of his time was spent collecting herbs and foods and medicines from around Teorg and he was very good at spotting things. It was easy enough to duck away while behind Akton and return with a few mushrooms or asparagus stalks. As it grew dark he made up the space between them, too, and spotted another lean-to a small ways off the road.

“Hey,” he said, running up to Akton, who kept walking. “It’s getting dark and there’s another shelter here.”

“I’m not stopping yet,” said Akton. Talfryn couldn’t believe he was still this angry about earlier, but he frowned. Well, he wasn’t going to apologize if Akton was going to make them more uncomfortable for the night. They’d just be even.

“So eager to get to Ivels?” asked Talfryn, but Akton ignored him. Eventually the lean-to passed out of sight and the light grew dimmer. But the moonlight was strong enough tonight for them to see the road and Akton didn’t seem to be cooled off yet.

Talfryn’s stomach rumbled. His feet ached. He wanted to rest.

“I’d read about those lean-tos, but I didn’t know that they were any out here,” he said, thinking he could annoy Akton into stopping. “Hundreds of years ago Queen Ylenia had them built along intervals on every major road, shelter for travelers to rest out of the elements. The ones closer to the Queen’s City are said to be of excellent quality and can sleep several traveling groups.”

Akton set his jaw.

“This was to promote travel and trade, of course. If it’s safer and easier to travel, then more people will do it. Where there’s travel and trade, there’s wealth. The queen’s terribly smart—all the major cities are thriving. I doubt she ordered any of the structures we passed to be built, though. I wonder whether there’s a library in Ivels I could do research at for that.”

Akton sped his pace, but Talfryn kept up with him.

“I’d guess it’s more likely the smaller cities put them together of their own initiative around the same time. Imitation. Some record would have it documented. They really ought to do repair on these again—”

“Talfryn,” said Akton, the word a snarl, “Shut up.”

“I’ll stop my mouth if you stop your feet,” said Talfryn. Immediately Akton veered off and began searching for a place to make camp. Talfryn followed and gratefully lowered his things to the ground once Akton was satisfied with the space. His shoulders ached and he rolled them. His eyes flicked over to Akton and he wondered about his shoulders, whether he’d accept Talfryn rubbing the tension out of them. Probably not.

“I’ll get the wood if you use your little fire starting trick,” said Akton.

“Certainly,” said Talfryn, trying not to be offended at the little trick remark. But Talfryn didn’t talk about his magic.

Akton rolled his eyes and stalked off into the darkened trees. While he was gone Talfryn tried to clear the area a little, making space for the fire and their bedrolls. Then he took out what he’d foraged over the day and their one pan. He peeled the two carrots he’d found to get the dirt off and took out some of the jerky they had. If he cut it up and cooked it long enough, with a little water and the vegetables it would make an adequate stew.

That might work on Akton. It was difficult to be angry with someone who fed you decently.

Akton returned with wood, threw it down, then went back for more. Talfryn let the fire forces leap from his fingers and felt comfortable enough alone to make the flames intense far before they would have been so he could start cooking. By the time Akton returned with an armful of thick wood Talfryn was simmering everything together.

“What’s that?” asked Akton, sitting and pulling his boots off. “Vegetables?”

“I picked up some things along the road today.” Talfryn gave it a stir. “Makes the bread go further. And I only used one serving of jerky.”

Akton snorted.

“You’ve never been outside your little town.”

“Nope.”

“Well, thanks,” said Akton, which Talfryn considered a good sign. They ate out of the pan, Talfryn setting it on the ground between them. It was intimate in a way Talfryn hadn’t experienced before, but Akton seemed casual enough. He probably had done this before, shared food with a traveling companion. It wasn’t intimate to him.

“I’m guessing you camp like this a lot,” said Talfryn as Akton mopped up the last of the liquid in the bottom of the pan. The corner of his mouth twitched up.

“No shelters or lean-tos where I travel,” he said. “Though I might be able to convince people to put one on the path between…” He trailed off, shook his head. “Right. No one there anymore.”

Talfryn thought this was a good place to wander off and let Akton get over it. He didn’t want to ask for more information, nor did he care to deal with Akton’s feelings on having watched an entire town burn alive. They wouldn’t be good.

“I got the pan,” he said, standing and grabbing a cloth. “Canteen?”

“How do you know there’s water here?” asked Akton, sounding suspicious, but he handed his empty canteen over. Talfryn shrugged. Let him think it was an apothecary’s secret again.

Talfryn could sense it, really. Something about having his boots off, something in his shifter blood. As much as he was a creature of flame he was one who enjoyed the feel of dampness—such was the conflicting nature of a salamander. Perhaps it called to him precisely because it could quench, snuff him out. Whatever the case, he made his way to the trickle of a stream, rinsed and wiped the pan, then filled the canteens. He’d brought one halfway to his lips for a drink when he heard Akton cry out.

He dashed back, leaving the pan and other canteen, and careened into camp to see Akton bent over in pain. Talfryn saw the bottle of sun water on its side, spilled, and realized immediately Akton must have tried some.

“Foolish,” he said, crossing to him and kneeling. Tears streamed down Akton’s face, eyes watering in pain. “Don’t you know not to mess with spells and potions if you don’t know what they do?”

Akton snatched the canteen out of his hand and took a long swig before Talfryn yanked it away and tossed it to the ground.

“That’s not going to help,” he said, angry, worried. He didn’t know what to do for this. He and Glenna so carefully measured that no one had ever taken too much sun water before. And while he’d read about it causing massive burns on skin, it was only ever in a weaponized context, not with a cure. Talfryn’s mind raced. The only thing he had close to an idea he doubted Akton would like.

Still, he probably wouldn’t object to feeling better. Talfryn grabbed Akton’s chin, tilted his face up, and, without giving himself time to think it through, kissed him.

Akton’s lips were salty from his running eyes, but if Talfryn was to help him he had to share more. He hoped there was something in his saliva that would help—he after all could drink sun water—and he did his best to get his tongue between Akton’s lips. He knew it worked the moment he did because Akton kissed back, and hard.

Talfryn fell on him as Akton dragged him onto his lap, dug his fingers into Talfryn’s skull. It was the most desperate, frenzied kiss Talfryn had ever had and his pulse leapt as he tried to steady himself with a hand. Akton tasted good, like sun water and sweat, and despite it being awkward Talfryn felt himself getting hard.

The same was happening to Akton, if the bulge pressed against Talfryn’s thigh was anything to go by. He kissed harder, the sun water taste fading, and let himself not think. Akton’s mouth was turning from demanding to pointed, the pace slowing, until Talfryn was sure what they were engaging in was purely pleasure. He broke out a little of his skill, drew out the kisses, pulled back a little, took Akton’s bottom lip with him. Akton’s eyes, still damp, were closed, and he breathed out shakily.

Talfryn went in for another kiss, felt Akton’s hand on his ass. He was so hard, c**k aching so needily, right now that he wasn’t going to stop unless told. Akton kissed back, squeezed his ass—then opened his eyes as though jolted and pulled back.

Akton froze, inches away from Talfryn’s face, their lower bodies pressed together. Time ticked out long seconds as Talfryn waited, then awkwardly licked his lips.

“I guess that helped, then,” he said.