Sky and Storm ( Warriors of Vis #1)(4)
“I have no time for her today, not with Storm returning and my being in this pathetic state,” Sky said.
“I know, my lord, told her as much.” Sera pushed him back, urging him to relax as she massaged his scalp.
After bathing him, she brought some of her lemon scented creams and rubbed his body in them, leaving a greasy feeling on his face for what felt like hours. Slices of fruit and random vegetables strategically placed on affected areas followed, along with a thorough rub down with pieces of cloth dipped in nasty smelling infusions and other such secret substances the woman seemed to always produce out of thin air.
By evening, he was already feeling better. With powders and creams, she hid the effects of long term sleep deprivation. Once she was done, he ventured a look in the mirror. He gasped, scared by the thin, bony face looking back at him.
Sera wrapped her arms around Sky’s shoulders, touching her cheek to his. Sat on the chair in front of the mirror, he was almost as tall as her.
“I’ll brush your hair and let it loose, it will help you hide how thin you are.” Her warm voice soothed Sky more than her words.
One of the soldiers knocked on the door, shouting that the Dragon was half an hour’s ride away. Sky sighed, sending a quick prayer to whatever gods were listening that his husband wouldn’t notice his sorry state. It wasn’t Sky’s fault Storm had married someone who always disappointed him. Sky bet the Dragon regretted his choice now.
With another quick look in the mirror, Sky stood and walked to the door of his private chambers. Cloud was waiting on the other side, ready to pounce.
“Well, you look like crap,” she said, hands on her hips, a scowl planted on her face.
“You look beautiful as ever, Cloud,” he said, tilting his head.
Cloud glared at Sera. “I thought your maid was lying when she said you were sick. I can see she wasn’t. You cannot be healthy and look this bad.”
Sky let her drag him along the corridors and down long, winding flights of stairs. They walked through the huge hall where the entire court was assembled to greet the Dragon. Soldiers were flanking them on both sides, but Sky still didn’t feel safe enough from the masses of noblemen and noblewomen gathered there. Words could cut through his guards.
Sky had heard all the rumors, all the insults, everything. And if he managed to miss one or two, Cloud would bring them to his attention. They called him useless, chatted about how his husband wouldn’t touch him. One year of marriage and Sky was still a virgin. Stories of the hordes of women and men Storm had fucked in and outside the castle were his most dreaded enemy. They said the Dragon went to war because there was nothing left to fuck around these parts of the world. Their snickers and comments were already reaching Sky. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t ignore them. They always manage to break his heart a little more. But the little bugger never gave out, never had enough, never stopped hurting.
The rapping of the horses eating up the distance to the castle’s main entrance made Sky snap from his depressing thoughts. He stepped a little forward on his own, stopping in his designated spot and waiting for his husband. His heart started beating harder, blood rushing through his head, his ears pounding, his stomach in painful knots. Here we go…
Storm jumped off his horse, removed his cloak and let it slide on the pavement. He looked so strong and beautiful. A mass of surprisingly graceful muscles stalking closers, his long dark curls flowing in the night breeze. He stopped in front of Sky, mumbling a greeting and bending enough for Sky to reach his cheek.
“Welcome home,” Sky said in a shaky voice and kissed him with trembling lips. His hands tightened on Storm’s upper arms and he felt Storm stiffening at his touch. Sky stepped back quickly and walked next to his husband into the dining room, but did not take the arm Storm offered. He didn’t want the Dragon to freeze again under his touch. More often than not, Storm acted like he hated it when his husband touched him. Sky found it very confusing, the way Storm would sometimes search physical contact, and other times would flinch and move away as if he’d been burnt.
As they climbed the few stairs leading to the large dining room they used instead of the banquet hall when they had no more than twenty guests, Sky’s legs gave and to his horror, he felt himself falling. Storm’s strong arms caught him and crushed him against the wall of steel that was his upper body.
“You’ve lost weight,” Storm stated, frowning deeply.
“He’s been sick,” Cloud hissed from behind them.
“Sick? Have you seen the healers? What did they say?”
Sky sighed and allowed himself a few seconds melting against Storm. “I’m perfectly all right, Dragon. Nothing but a dreaded cold. I’m sure I’ll gain back all the weight in no time.”
Storm helped Sky to his chair on the prince’s right side and watched him like a hawk all through dinner. Sky could hardly eat anything. His stomach refused the food and his husband’s constant scrutiny made him feel terrible. Their relationship was nothing more than a flimsy fa?ade. And now Storm was forced to keep his eyes trained on the man he hated to touch, hated to hold, hated to be wed to.
Storm always left to fight and conquer. The prince saw the glory and beauty of lands near and far. Yet he always returned to the husband he couldn’t stand to have around. Never more than three months away, never less than two, until now. Why do you insist on returning here, Storm?