Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 29: Come nightfall

Ella woke up tanged with Aedion.

She didn't know how or why, but just like every time she'd fallen asleep next to him, she'd somehow managed to press herself as close as possible, as if drawn to him by an invisible string. Limbs twined like vines, her nose pressed to his bare chest for warmth, she'd even shamelessly sneaked beneath his own pile of furs, invading his space like the spread of weeds in a garden.

If Aedion minded her brazenness, he didn't show it. Not by the way his arms banded around her like iron, one big, warm hand snuck under her top to press along the curve of her spine, flat between her shoulder blades. Her legs were wedged between his own, a heavy thigh draped atop her leg as if keeping her in place. His slow puffs of breath on her temple and the steady beats of his heart beneath her cheek marked a comforting rhythm.

Everything around Ella was warm, warm, warm. Aedion was like a furnace, keeping her from feeling even a whisper of cold, even as the wind outside carried flurries of snow, and the night seemed never-ending. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and remain blissfully at peace in their little pocket of quiet. But alas, all good things came to an end, and in Ella's case, it was due to the dire need to relieve herself.

There were little things worse than having to leave the safety of her tent—and the warmth of Aedion's arms—only to hobble out into the dark, snowy forest to find a tree to relieve herself. It was enough to make a priestess curse.

She returned—hoping to crawl back into bed to sleep for a few more hours—only to find Aedion already sitting up, rubbing his bleary eyes.

The furs pooled around his waist, and in the dark, he blinked and squinted, focusing his sight. "We should get going," he mumbled, absentmindedly scratching his stomach, above the thin line of hair on his navel.

"Already?" Ella groaned, scraping the muddy slush off her boots beside the tent. "It's still dark. And it's colder than hell out here."

"It's winter, what'd you expect," he answered, cut off by a loud yawn he barely stifled with the back of his hand. "If we want to get to the swamp early and leave before nightfall, we need to leave now. Unless you fancy sharing a tent with the Kelpie?"

Even half-asleep, he managed to be cheeky. The cow lick in his hair and the pillow creases on his cheek shouldn't have been half as endearing, but they were.

Ella shook her head, her morning grumpiness curbed. "I bet the Kelpie would be a better tent roommate. It wouldn't snore."

"I don't snore," Aedion said instantly, a bit defensively.

"That's what everyone who snores says."

"At least I don't steal all the blankets and take up more space than two grown men," he grumbled, which, fair enough, was true.

Ella didn't bother denying it. She grinned to herself and went about preparing a lantern to see better.

It wasn't uncomfortable, this arrangement. Neither of them mentioned the way they'd slept curled around each other, it wasn't necessary. It was as if they'd done this all their lives. As they went about taking down the campsite and preparing for their day of travelling, they shared a comfortable silence.

It was the comfortable quiet of companions. Of two people who were used to being around one another, and worked well together, like a well-wound clock. In the darkness of early morning, they did their tasks in a way that was efficient and somehow intimate, in how well they knew each other.

Aedion took down the tent and made the fire, and Ella saddled the horses, fed them, and made piping hot coffee. They huddled together for warmth, finding their way close in a natural, unspoken way, as they sipped their too-sugary coffee and nibbled on yesterday's bread, quietly going over the routes they would take.