Wanderlust - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Soren doubted he'd ever get used to waking up beside Tanden. Even on their second last day in West Draulin, he had to convince himself that it was real. That he wasn't imagining the weight of Tanden's arm across his chest.
They hadn't had sex. Tanden – cocky, confident Tanden – had been acting odd the entire time they'd been in West Draulin. Soren assumed it was because he was worried about his family hearing them, although the risk seemed like the type of thing Tanden would claim was part of the game. Still, Soren had stayed every night. And every morning when he woke up, he had to remind himself that it was real.
As a cover, Tanden had officially given him one of the guest chambers, but Soren had never stepped foot inside it. He spent his days running errands in the city or spending time with Roland. A few times, he and Roland had been invited to eat meals with the Tandrans, which Soren sat quietly through while the others ate.
The entire crew had been given leave, all except for Soren. He was beginning to realize that first mates didn't get breaks like the rest of the crew. Especially not first mates who were sleeping with their captains.
Soren was shaken from his thoughts by a knock at the door. The first morning he'd been terrified that someone would walk into the room, but after Tanden's assurances that it wouldn't happen, he calmed down. There was a second knock, and Soren nudged Tanden.
"What?" the captain grumbled.
"Someone's knocking," Soren whispered. He didn't know how soundproof the doors were and really didn't want to try their luck.
Tanden groaned loudly and rose, putting unnecessary weight on Soren's chest as he propped himself up. "What is it?" he called.
"Lord West Draulin requests you at breakfast, my lord," was the reply.
"Of course. I'll be out shortly," Tanden promised. Once the footsteps had faded away, he lay back down. "I miss making my own schedule."
"You're an early riser on the ship," Soren pointed out.
"I know, but I choose to be an early riser on the ship. Right now I want to sleep in." Tanden groaned a second time. "The feast is tonight."
"Is that a problem?" Soren asked carefully.
"Yes. Rael's invited every lord on New Teltar."
Soren laughed lightly. "That's an exaggeration."
"Hardly." With yet another groan, Tanden sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I'm inviting you to the feast." He glanced over his shoulder and grinned when he saw Soren's expression of dread. "You're my right hand man, mate. You have no choice."
"Do I ever?" Soren asked dryly, but a smile flashed across his face.
"Always, mate. Come back before the feast starts so we can get ready. And buy something nice to wear while you're out."
Soren gave an indulgent sigh. "Aye, Captain."
After breakfast, Tanden spent the morning with his nephews. The boys were fascinated by his life and always wanted to hear stories, and Tanden loved to tell them. What he found interesting was the things they asked. While Tandrin would ask about what he did at each place and which important people he had talked to, Tandrix asked about what the city looked like and if he'd had any swordfights with the locals. Tanden patiently answered all of their questions and only exaggerated a few times.
He also finally gave the boys the gifts he had promised them. They were Morcean wall tapestries he'd picked up in Eith. Unsure of which boy would prefer which tapestry, he let them choose. Tandrin picked the one that depicted a castle, while Tandrix picked the one that showed two knights on horseback.
After lunch, Tanden spent a few hours with Lady Clairia and Tairia. He had also brought them gifts, both of which he'd bought in Stanin. For Tairia he had a finely made doll wearing traditional Morcean clothing, and for Clairia a gold necklace with a sapphire pendant.
He had a brief meeting with Tandrael afterward, where his older brother lectured him on how to act at the feast as if he'd forgotten how to be a proper lord. Then he went to his chamber to get ready. When Soren finally arrived, Tanden was agonizing over what to wear. He had laid out multiple tunics, pants and cloaks over his table and bed. He had his ceremonial sword and belt slung over the back of his chair. His freshly washed hair hung loose over his shoulders, drying out before it was tied back up.
He let out a sigh of relief when there as a knock on the door and he heard Soren's voice. "Come in!"
Soren walked in, wearing dark pants and a crisp blue tunic under a black vest. His cutlass hung at his side.
Tanden eyed him. It was hardly fair that Soren's formal wear could be so simple while his had to be so extravagant. He hid his jealously with a teasing smile. "I could do without the tunic."
Soren rolled his eyes, unfazed. "Aye, I'm sure all the nobles would appreciate that. What's going on?" He looked around, his gaze flicking over all the clothing.
"I don't know what to wear," Tanden admitted grumpily.
Soren stepped up beside hm. "Not a problem I'd expect you to have."
"Why, because I always dress impeccably? Of course I do, for a captain. Not for a lord." Abruptly Tanden stripped off his tunic to pull a light blue one over his head. He picked up one of his cloaks, a floor length, deep blue one with silver embroidery along the neckline. He draped it over his shoulders, did up the clasp, and stared at himself in the mirror. After a moment of annoyed self-appraisal, he picked up a black ribbon to tie back his hair. The look wasn't horrible. It was actually quite proper, it just didn't feel right.
"A cloak like this would kill me on a ship," he muttered to himself. "What do you think?" he glanced at Soren, who hadn't moved. "Do I look good? Dashing and handsome, perhaps?"
"You always do, Captain," Soren replied dutifully. "Honestly though, you do look good. Just not quite yourself."
Tanden groaned. "I hate it."
"So... why don't you wear your jacket?" Soren asked tentatively. "It is formal wear for a captain, aye? If Lord Tandar wore armour instead of a cloak do you think anyone would be offended?"
It was so obvious Tanden was ashamed of himself for not realizing it. "No. That would be appropriate for a knight. Therefore, my jacket is appropriate for me." As suddenly as he'd put it on, Tanden flung off the cloak. When he turned around, he was surprised to see Soren already holding the jacket.
Soren held it up so that Tanden could slip his arms into the sleeves. Tanden turned around with a grin. "You're a genius, mate. My sword?"
Soren picked up the belt. "Not a cutlass?"
Tanden shrugged. "It's for show." He didn't reach for the belt, and was pleased after a brief pause when Soren stepped closer to slip the belt around his waist. "I prefer it when you take my belt off."
"Not this time." Soren was once again unfazed. He cinched the belt tight and adjusted where the sword was hanging. "I preferred your hair loose. Having it tied back like that looks... too tame."
Tanden smiled. "So I'm not tame?"
"You're anything but, Captain."
"How would you describe me, then?"
Finally he got a reaction. Soren flushed. "I... Reckon I'd describe you as... enigmatic."
Tanden's smile widened. "And dashing and handsome?" Soren didn't reply, but his cheeks reddened further. "Alas, Soren, mate, I need to make some sort of effort to look proper, even if doing so is incredibly dull. I'll wear my hair the proper Teltish way and hope Rael doesn't lecture me on the jacket." He stepped away from Soren, breaking the bit of tension he'd caused. "I've arranged for you to sit with Roland. I thought you'd prefer him to any of the other lords. In all honestly, I prefer him. Anyway, shall we go?" He headed for the door and paused when he realized that Soren hadn't moved. "Soren?"
"I thought I'd be near you."
Tanden chuckled. "Mate, think about that for a moment. You looking as dapper as you do? I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you." He ignored Soren's look of surprise and left the room, expecting to be followed.
The feast was to take place in one of the more moderately sized dining rooms. Tanden had been exaggerating about the amount of guests, every lord on New Teltar hadn't been invited. However, every noble family within the city of West Draulin had been. Tanden led Soren through one of the servant doors, hoping to avoid making a big entrance. He waved Soren off towards the table Roland was sitting at, and went to join Tandrael and his family at the front table.
Tandrael was sitting in the middle of the table, with Clairia on his right. Tandrix and Tairia sat on her far side. The seat between Tandrael and Tandrin had been left empty, so Tanden sat down. Before Tandrael had even noticed his brother, a servant had stepped forward to fill his wineglass. Tanden picked it up and took a sip.
"We should open a bottle of kalay."
Tandrael turned. If he was surprised, it didn't show on his face. "Tanden. You finally joined us. And you're not dressed."
"I'm not that late, and I am dressed. This is formal wear for a captain, is it not? What's Roland wearing?"
Tandrael smiled slowly. "Alright, I'll give you that. At least you cleaned up nicely."
"I am a lord, brother. I might not act it very often, but I can hardly forget nineteen years of training. Now, how about we open a bottle of kalay?" He leaned forward so he could peer around his brother. "Clairia, would you be interested in trying some kalay?"
"It does sound interesting," Clairia said.
"Very well." Tandrael waved over one of the servants. "Bring out one of the bottles Tanden brought us. Sulina will know which one." The servant nodded and scurried away. "Tanden, remind me, where are you headed tomorrow?"
"Crele." Tanden dug into his food hungrily. "Some of my men are from Crele, I'd like to give them a short leave at home before we make our way up North again."
"Your first mate?"
"No, Soren's from West Draulin." Tanden didn't want to encourage Tandrael's questioning, so he turned to his nephew. "How are your studies going, Tandrin?"
"Very well," Tandrin replied. "I find politics very interesting."
Tanden lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Mate, you don't have to lie to me."
Tandrin's lips curled into a brief smile. "It's boring," he whispered back. "But father says it's important."
"Well, your father is very smart," Tanden pointed out. "But he can be pretty boring."
"I can hear you," Tandrael cut in.
Tanden ignored him. "He used to be interesting, you know." He launched into a story that was only partially made up. The rest of the meal went by smoothly. The kalay arrived, which Clairia loved but Tandrael claimed was too sweet for his liking. Tanden fell into an easy conversation with his brother, one that continued skirting around Soren. Occasionally, guests would make their way up to the front table to greet Tanden. The children were ushered off to bed as the evening got late. Overall the meal was pleasant enough, although whenever there was a lull in the conversation Tanden found himself watching Soren and Roland.
When the dancing began, Tanden was one of the first to stand. "Lady Clairia, may I have this dance?" He rushed to beat his brother to the question.
Clairia laughed and accepted his hand. "I'll be back, dear," she said, giving Tandrael a quick kiss. She let Tanden lead her onto the dance floor and put her hand on his shoulder. Tanden lay his hand on her waist and gracefully they began to dance. They had finished their first circle around the floor before either of them spoke.
"I noticed you don't like talking about your first mate."
Tanden nearly tripped, he was so shocked. Clairia was perceptive, he'd always known that, but he'd thought he'd been less obvious. "I just don't see why we should talk about him."
"Would you ever consider asking him to dance?"
He decided to drop the act, not wanting to insult her by continuing to lie. "I can't do that."
"Tanden," Clairia tutted. "Who are you?"
Puzzled by the question, he started to reply, "Cap—"
"No."
"Lord Tanden," he said, "of West Draulin."
"Exactly. If anybody is going to change the way people think, it's going to be a Tandran. You're young, charismatic, worldly—" she paused with a smile. "Roguish. You'd win people over."
Tanden shook his head. They were still dancing, but it was so automatic that he barely noticed. "You know it isn't that easy."
"Your brother married a half-Native woman," she pointed out. "And made her Lady West Draulin. People made a fuss at first, but they got over me quickly enough. People would get over you."
"It isn't about me," Tanden said. "I know I could take it. The judging and the scrutiny. In stride even. I hardly care about what people think of me. But Soren didn't grow up in this world and I couldn't draw so much attention to him. It would be cruel."
"Have you asked him?"
"If he wants to be a martyr? It isn't his fault I'm who I am. I can't do that to him."
"It's something to think about, at least." They were nearing their table, so Clairia let go of Tanden's shoulder. "I should dance with my husband. You should go talk to your first mate. No one can fault you that, at least."
Tanden bowed and kissed Clairia's hand before letting it go. "If you could refrain from telling Rael. Just for now."
"Of course," Clairia agreed. She walked back to the table and took Tandrael's hand. After Tandrael had twirled her back onto the dancefloor, Tanden went over to the table. He picked up his wineglass and held it out absentmindedly for a servant to fill. He watched his brother and Clairia for a moment, leaning back against the table. Then he made up his mind, drank the kalay in one gulp, and made his way for Soren's table.
"—it was the worst storm I've ever—" Soren stopped as soon as Tanden appeared in front of him. "Aye, Captain?"
Tanden nodded a greeting at Roland, then picked up Soren's wineglass. "Do you like wine?" he asked, swirling what was left of the red liquid.
He was in an odd mood and Soren wasn't sure what to expect. "Aye. Bit expensive so I don't have it very much, but... it's good."
"Hmm. Did you know that New Teltar is the biggest wine producing province in Zianna?"
Soren nodded. Everybody who was involved in trade knew that. "Aye."
Tanden lifted the glass to his lips and finished it, before waving a servant over to refill it. He leaned against the table and began to sip the wine. His attention seemed to be on the dancers in the middle of the room. Soren didn't know what to do. Something was clearly upsetting Tanden, and if they'd been somewhere more private, or on the Wanderlust, he would have asked. He didn't know how to ask at the feast without appearing too forward.
Warily, he started to speak to Roland again, but kept an eye on Tanden. When Tanden had refilled the wine glass for the fourth time, Soren knew he had to do something. He stood up. "Captain, may I have a word with you?"
Tanden looked over his shoulder. "Why not? Say whatever's on your mind, mate."
"Privately," Soren said firmly.
Tanden's eyes widened. "Oh... Reckon I can spare a few minutes." He walked around the table to join Soren. Before leading him away, Soren took the wineglass from his hand. Tanden stared at it like it had betrayed him, until Soren took a risk by grabbing Tanden's forearm and pulling him away from the table.
When they reached the wall, Tanden leaned heavily against it and crossed his arms. He looked annoyed, but he was being relatively docile so Soren pressed. "Captain, what's wrong?"
"Did you know..." Tanden lowered his voice, his eyes darting back and forth suspiciously. Nobody was nearby. "Did you know that I could bed anyone in this room for the right price? Everyone's got a price. But... but if someone found out it would be a terrible scandal. But why? Why does anyone care what I do and who I fuck? It isn't fair. No- no, maybe people wouldn't care. Maybe-" Tanden pushed away from the wall but immediately stumbled back against it. "Maybe I should kiss you, right here. No, on top of a table, so everyone can see. Then I'll dare them to judge me. But they won't. You know why? Soren? Why?"
"No," Soren whispered, desperately hoping that if he was quiet Tanden would be too. "I think I should take you up to your room."
"They won't judge me because I'm me. You know? Lord Tanden of West Draulin. Did you know that's my name? Lord... Captain Lord Tanden of West Draulin. Of West Draulin! They can't judge a Tandran, or... or... but you? They don't know who you are, they don't care. They'll hurt you."
"Captain..." Soren took Tanden's arm. "Let me take you upstairs."
"No, Soren, don't you understand?" Tanden shook off Soren's hand, and put his hands on either side of Soren's face, forcing their eyes to meet. "Don't you understand? They'll hurt you. But I'm supposed to protect you, because you're mine. Did you know-" he'd started speaking more loudly again, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Did you know, that the first man I ever fucked was one of my knights? Sir Atricell. I was seventeen. He was... older. Two years? I don't remember." He shook his head and put his hands on Soren's shoulders. "He was really good, Soren. It was fun. But listen. He wasn't you. You're better. You're a Crelan, mate. I love Crelans. I want a tattoo."
"I know. You can tell me about it in your room." Soren pulled one of Tanden's arms over his shoulder and started walking towards the small servant door they'd used before.
Tanden protested, but didn't actually struggle as Soren half-carried him. "But Soren..."
"You can look at my tattoo upstairs," Soren said.
"Oh..." Tanden brightened at that. "I love it."
"Aye, I know."
"Did you get it for me?"
"I had it when we met," Soren pointed out. At least the topic of the conversation had shifted. A servant held the door open for them and Soren gave her a brief smile. "Thank you, lass. If you get a chance, please let Lord West Draulin know that Lord Tanden has retired for the night."
"That's me," Tanden gestured to himself with his left hand. "Lord Tanden. You're pretty. D'you—"
"Captain," Soren interrupted sharply. "Sorry."
The servant smiled at him. "No harm done, sir. I'll let Lord West Draulin know."
"Thanks."
They continued to shuffle along. Tanden muttered and mumbled, but his speech seemed to be over. The staircase was difficult and took twice as long as it should have, but finally they had made it to Tanden's chamber. Soren gently sat Tanden down on his bed. He still didn't know what had set Tanden off. He rarely drank enough to get drunk, but now he was so far gone Soren doubted he'd even manage to undress.
He crouched to pull off Tanden's boots. Then he pulled Tanden upright so he could unbutton his jacket. At first Tanden hardly reacted, allowing himself to be pushed around like a doll. Then suddenly he grabbed Soren's forearms.
Soren flinched put didn't pull away. "Captain?"
"What exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Trying to make you comfortable," Soren replied. Tentatively he continued undoing the buttons. Tanden didn't let go of his arms, but didn't try to stop him either.
"Soren. I'm so... ecstatic that you're mine."
"I'm not an object, Captain," Soren replied, as he pushed Tanden's arms through the jacket's sleeves.
"But you are."
"An object?"
"Mine," Tanden said seriously. He tried to lurch to his feet, but fell heavily into Soren's arms instead. "My sailor. My First Mate. My Soren."
"Aye. Your employee," Soren agreed. He manoeuvered Tanden back onto the bed, but Tanden kept his right hand firmly on Soren's shoulder.
He pulled Soren's head down so they were face to face. "I reckon you want me to say it now?"
"Say what?" Soren asked.
"What else you are? My partner. My partner in everything and," Tanden paused. "And... That I'm yours. So say it. What am I, Soren?"
"My Captain."
"Hmm... and? Come now, Soren. No need to be shy. We're the only ones here." Tanden hooked his arm behind Soren's neck, holding him in place.
"My Lord."
"You—" Tanden chuckled to himself. "You know I hate that. Go. Try again. Don't make me beg."
"My Lord," Soren repeated, with a slight grin. "My Captain. My-" Saying it out loud was surprisingly hard, even though he knew no one would hear him. "My lover."
"There! That's what I wanted to hear!" Tanden pulled Soren close for a kiss, then backed further onto the bed and tugged Soren along with him.
"Captain," Soren protested half-heartedly. "You need to sleep. You're drunk."
"Aye. Noted. Don't argue."
"I must insist, Captain..."
Tanden sighed dramatically and let his arms flop onto the bed. "So be it."
Soren waited a moment to see if he'd actually settled down. When Tanden didn't move, Soren pulled up the blankets, but the moment he was about to drape them over Tanden, the captain kicked them away and sat up. He looked at Soren, and suddenly seemed quite alert. "I might love you."
Soren froze. It wasn't something that he'd ever expected to hear. Tanden had affectionate feelings for him, of course, but love? He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. Part of him wanted to leave the room.
Then, without saying anything else, Tanden lay down on his side, threw an arm over his eyes, and went still.
Once his racing heart had calmed down, Soren tucked the blanket around Tanden's body. He quietly snuck out of the room. There was no one in the hallway, and Soren didn't want to leave Tanden entirely alone. He leaned back against the wall, then slid down it and sat on the floor.
He didn't know what to do.