Bird of a Nest - Chapter 42: Chapter 42

Nel'os wasn't there in the morning, though he had a vague memory of lips pressing to his. Ryraso watched as they took Cai'ress away sadly, unable to help in any meaningful way. Short after Fetmar appeared with his brothers in tow, his hands-on Aw'endo's shoulders and propelling him forwards as Aw'endo dragged his feet.
"Look after the brat," Fetmar ordered, pressing Aw'endo onto the bed and into Ryraso's arms.
He held the boy close as Fetmar stormed off, patting Eyeri's shoulder on the way out. Kissing Aw'endo on the forehead, Ryraso resisted the urge to call him foolish and instead and played card games with him as they waited uncertainly as to what to do. Eyeri was regularly chased back into the room but found ways to drift out again and help out still.
Eventually, Mo'sit appeared with Aw'endo's history essay, some paper for Eyeri to practice his writing and a book for Ryraso.
They waited.
---x---
Fetmar was angry. He could feel it in his blood, but he fought it back as he taught the class of nobles. The younger ones were easier to deal with than Aw'endo's year group. They had no responsibility for making Aw'endo upset.
His year group did, ish. Fetmar knew he couldn't blame all of them. They were still children. Fetmar could see it in how they moved and joked with each other. In how some of the boys bounced on their feet unable to stand still for long unless forced too. He knew which had been the cronies of the bird who stabbed him. Only they did seem to be well-liked. It was hard.
"Instructor Fetmar?"
White wings and pale yellow eyes framed by white hair looked at him uncertainly. He was a noble teenager, well trained from a warrior house and the groups' sacrificial lamb. The class was over, but the younglings knew something had happened to Aw'endo. The palace grapevine was well seasoned, and while Fetmar wasn't sure if the truth was out, people knew parts of it.
"Yes?"
"Is Aw'endo ok?"
"Not particularly," Fetmar shrugged, not sure how k'nairi culture expected him to act in this situation. "How are you?" he asked back, not wanting to deal with the youngling. Now his job for the day was done, he wanted to go beat up a punching bag and then find his brothers before something else could happen.
"Confused mostly," the youngling offered, eyes glancing back over to a group hanging about the training ring. Youngling cluttered the area, a few watching guards training, other recovering from the morning before heading to lunch. Fetmar followed the look and noted the group. He'd seen them before.
"How so?" Fetmar stretched his arms, trying to pull the tension in his shoulder muscles out.
"I thought things were getting better for him," the youngling admitted softly, almost as if he was afraid to admit that fact. "I mean now Ri'kas is gone there is no one actively being cruel to him or forcing people to join in on his crusade to exclude him. He had you and Eyeri and the Royals are back. He wasn't alone." the youngling trailed off, several expressions crossing his face at once.
"Yet..."
"Ri'kas being the brat who stabbed me?" Fetmar checked calmly.
"His family is rather influential,"
"I remember," Fetmar nodded. The palace was a weird mix of nobles in power whose families had held the position before humans had learned how to use fire, to skilled commoners or lesser nobles who had earned their way to power. From what Fetmar remembered, Ri'kas was old blood but very competent. His family was not one the Royals would insult by banishing the bully. Not until he injured someone in their care.
"Will Aw'endo be back soon?"
"I doubt it," Fetmar shrugged, standing up and picking up his jacket. "He needs some time to recover."
"Oh," the youngling looked at his friends again and shook his head. "Should we... Can we go see him?" The hesitation was palatable in his voice. The youngling wasn't sure if he was allowed to check on the Prince.
"I don't see why not, just not for a day or two," Fetmar commented, slightly confused as to why the boy was asking permission. "I'm sure he'd appreciate knowing you were concerned."
"Maybe," The youngling shrugged helplessly, his wings fluffing out slightly before settling again. "Thank you, Instructor Fetmar."
Fetmar waved him away and watched as he flittered back to his friends. The group quickly moved on, a few others waving over to him as they ran. "No friends at all?" Fetmar muttered. He would need to double-check with Aw'endo. Were the younglings hoping to take advantage? Or genuinely concerned about the person in their number? Shaking his head, Fetmar wandered over to where Zaro was swinging his legs on a ledge.
"Alone?"
"Ran'mosy kidnapped Herymi. He didn't go home last night," Zaro nodded over to Captain Par'nast's office. "Par'nast had him protecting Ryraso's room. I don't want to go back to my cell so early. Don't suppose you'd fancied lunch?"
"Sorry, I want to go check on the troublemakers first," Fetmar admitted, bumping Zaro's shoulder. Zaro was getting respect, but like Fetmar, making friends with the people around them was harder. Zaro had the added thing of sleeping with a guard within the first day of knowing him. People who approached him tended to be wanting more than a friend. "You can come with me, if you want?"
"Please," Zaro nodded, pushing back.
Fetmar didn't miss how a few eyes looked over at them. "Did something happen?"
"One of Sol'don's mates are here. Sol'don didn't think anything would happen, but people waiting for something is getting my nerves up," Zaro admitted, sliding off the ledge. He stayed close to Fetmar, and Fetmar found himself putting his arm over his shoulders to help hold him close.
"You're still sleeping with him?"
"Yeah," Zaro pulled a face. "I know," he battered Fetmar's chest. "I know I should have stopped but its fun, and it means I don't have to sleep in the cell."
"Everyone warned you that if this is a game, his nest will be unhappy with you," Fetmar wanted to scold. Instead, he just clenched his fists. If anyone tried anything, Fetmar would happily get involved. Anger was simmering under his skin and a jealous bird going too far would be a fitting reason to lose some of it. Whether he agreed with Zaro's actions or not, Zaro was his comrade. "Have you spoken to Nel'os about getting you branded and moved somewhere else?"
"Haven't had the chance. Too much going on." There was a moment of silence. "I helped Tai'hon move yesterday. Nel'os' circle are keeping me close like Nel'os promised. She's nice. Offered to help me find a lover of higher status if I wanted to do this for a living. I declined for now."
"I'm glad. Slightly worried by her offering to help you become a full-time mistress, but glad she is nice to you,"
"It's not like she offered it maliciously. She's survived for the past fifty years doing it. Only, Sol'don started by accident. I'm not sure I want to do it for an actual profession," Zaro smiled uncertainly, leaning into Fetmar more. "My brother would kill me if he found out and well..." he trailed off. "I imagine that job comes with more danger than I want to deal with."
"I imagine," Fetmar nodded, eyes following one person in particular who seemed to be shadowing them. Not one of the guards, Fetmar knew that uniform well by now. He shifted them and the man followed. It was probably nothing. Yet, something in the back of Fetmar mind was not happy. A gut feeling that something wasn't right about this. "Come," he pulled Zaro's hand and took a side corridor. He wasn't taking any chances today. "We have a tail."
"A tail?" Zaro looked back, trying to spot the person but didn't protest as Fetmar led him into the servant passages.
"Someone following us wearing a uniform I don't know," Fetmar clarified, as they reached a ledge. He gave Zaro a boost up before clambering up himself. "With everything that has happened, I don't feel safe having someone following us. Outside of the Royal Wing, the palace is surprisingly easy to get into." Or out of, which was how Aw'endo had snuck off in the past once or twice. Fetmar had yet to venture into the city. Herymi promised to take him for a tour soon, just as soon as Par'nast stopped giving him day shifts.
"You think we are targets?" Zaro said with doubt in his voice, nodding in greeting at one of the more familiar-looking servants. They smiled warmly back and patted his arm as they passed. "We are hardly important. I am hardly important," he corrected.
"You're friends with me, and the consorts have put you into their circle. We may not be important enough to warrant bodyguards like the brats, but we should still be smart. Never know just plans are churning away in the background. Plus," Fetmar gave Zaro a big grin as he pulled himself up to another ledge. "The servant passages are more fun than the main ones. A bit like an obstacle course."
Zaro rolled his eyes. "Of course, you'd prefer that," he sighed before finding his own handholds. A hand or two pulled him by his clothes as they continued to climb and wander, the servants not about to let either human get hurt in their domain, even if it was apparent that they weren't pleased with the humans being there in the first place. By the time they reached the Royal Wing, Zaro was practically panting for breath. Fetmar helped pull him to his feet and dragged him towards the door, only to be blocked by two walls of muscle.
"Hello," the guard smiled friendly. "Running Zaro ragged again?"
"Needed to burn off some emotion. I still have plenty to burn off if needed," There was an edge to Fetmar's voice. A promise of pain if the two started anything. It was Sol'don and his mate. Fetmar squared his shoulders ready even as Zaro was bending over and taking deep breaths. The guards on the gates shifted and the atmosphere changed slightly. The friendly smile dropped slightly and the guard looked uncertain at his partner.
"Easy," the second one murmured, hands up in a calming way. "Sol just wanted me to meet his pet. This isn't an ambush like the grapevine has been praying for."
"This isn't the best time," Fetmar retorted, glancing over his shoulder. The man wasn't there anymore. "We had a possible tail on the lower levels. They didn't follow us into the servant corridors. I want us both in the Royal Wing for a little while and you don't have clearance."
"I'll inform Captain Par'nast," one of the Royal guards intoned.
Zaro stood back up straight, face a little flushed. "Next time you feel the need to take the more interesting route, give me some warning," he complained, throat dry as he looked over Sol'dan's mate. He was bigger than Sol'dan. He swallowed. "I'm sorry we don't have much time now," he smiled at the two but it wasn't a strong smile. It was a rather weak one. He spoke in k'nairi, however. "I'm Zaro Tiew," he inclined his head respectfully but didn't bow. Fetmar just looked at him like he had grown a second head.
"Khy'rmin," the mate offered, eyes looking Zaro up and down. "I'm sure we'll have time to meet properly later. For now, if you were followed, I suppose it is better you that shelter."
"Thank you for your understanding,"
"I'm sure we can do a proper introduction soon," agreed Sol'don, reaching forward to tug a stray piece of hair behind Zaro's ear. Zaro hoped his flushed face hid any blush. There was no masking his tone. Before anything else could happen, Fetmar hooked their arms together and spirited them into the wing and away from the two.
The doors shut and Fetmar just looked at Zaro. "I have type," Zaro shrugged. Big, muscles and able to snap him in half if they chose to do so. The twins had been a similar body type, as had the few one-nighters he had between the ship and coming to Navat. Both Sol'don and Khy'rmin fell into that nicely. Zaro was already getting an idea as to how that 'proper' introduction was going to go and he felt inclined to go along with it. His face burned at that realisation "It's not that big a deal," he waved, trying to distract himself.
"So do most people. I'm more surprised you never mentioned you're already fluent in k'nairi."