Under the Mountain - Part 3

[bad_peppermint]

Masterpost

One morning, Ginger poked her head into Adam’s chamber when his friends had already departed for breakfast, Adam lagging behind to fix a broken leather strap on his pants.

“The hunters found an uprooted tree out in the woods,” she said. “Dry. We’re bringing it in now.”

“We’ll be there,” Adam called after her, groping amidst the bedding for his boots. Dry, fallen trees were rare on the Mountain, and they needed to hurry if they wanted it inside before the wood was ruined by the storm clouds slowly gathering around them.

It was a ragtag group of people heading out into the forest that day, Adam and his friends, some men, some women, a few of the older, well-muscled children. Each and every one of them was needed to pick the tree apart, and they still needed a good two days before they were able to store the last of the pieces in one of the lower caves. Adam was one of the last to deposit his load, as was Neil. Tommy had been there before them, but the section he had been piling wood on had collapsed from the looks of it, and he was still there, pushing the logs into an untidy heap.

Neil hesitated in the walkway when Adam made no move to follow him. “You coming, Adam?” he asked.

“You go ahead,” Adam replied, and he thought he saw a smile creep over Tommy’s face at the words.

“Suit yourself,” Neil muttered, but he left them alone.

Adam surveyed the wood they had amassed while Tommy finished his task. He wasn’t sure the man had been one of the hunters to find the fallen tree, but whoever had deserved a hearty meal tonight. Dry, burnable wood was hard to come by in a region regularly ravaged by winter storms and snowmelt. They felled trees sometimes, when they were desperate, but especially with the Greymen searching the area for signs of life, it was best to avoid such obvious marks of human activity as a tree cut down for firewood.

“Thanks for the help,” Tommy said drolly, picking up the lamp at the entrance, and Adam cut him a glance.

“You had it well in hand,” Adam assured him.

“I’m glad you think so,” Tommy said and took a step outside, peering at the abandoned tunnels leading off into the darkness.

“Up this way,” Adam told him, gesturing towards the one leading upwards.

“What’s down here?” Tommy asked and veered off down a side corridor without waiting for Adam’s reply.

“Not all tunnels are in use,” Adam told him, catching up with a few long strides. “Some are too small, some too corroded.” He gestured with his hand, encompassing the network of tunnels before them. “These, we’ve had to abandon because there isn’t enough air. One or two people could survive down here, but not all of us.”

The lantern in Tommy’s hand cast flickering shadows on the walls.

“We mainly use them for storage now.”

“Store what?” Tommy asked. He paused to peer into a cavern, but turned to face Adam expectantly when he found it empty.

“Firewood.” Adam pointed back the way they came. “Some food. Weapons. Furs and fabric. Anything that can survive the damp and the cold.”

“Weapons, hm?” Tommy resumed his aimless ambling. “I’ve seen you fight, you know,” he said. “You’re good.”

“Are you?” Adam asked, forgoing the way the compliment had his insides warming with pleasure.

Tommy blinked at him for a moment before he started laughing. “Good with a bow and arrow, yes,” he said. “Knives, I can handle. Anything longer than that, and I’m more likely to injure myself than an opponent.” He ran his fingers over the wall. “It is quite damp down here.”

“Most food spoils,” Adam said. “I could teach you.”

“No.”

Adam crooked an eyebrow. “The best way to overcome a weakness is to face it,” he said.

“Maybe I just don’t want you to see how bad I really am,” Tommy replied.

“Come on.” Adam confronted Tommy with his most winning smile. “We’ll take Monte and Isaac along. You’ll be amazed at how quickly you’ll learn.”

“Definitely not.” Tommy laughed - at him, Adam had a feeling. “I might be willing to let you witness my utter ineptitude at sword fighting, but that doesn’t mean anyone else will get to see it.”

“You cannot be as bad as you make yourself out to be,” Adam insisted.

Tommy laughed again. “You’d be surprised,” he said. He hesitated when his foot clinked against something made of metal and lifted the lantern higher. “What is this place?”

There wasn’t much to see, but Adam still waited as Tommy took in the barren walls, the metal loops set deep into the ground.

“It’s where we keep suspected traitors before their trial,” he said. He waited for Tommy to pale and wasn’t disappointed.

The other man took a hasty step backwards. “You keep people here?” he asked.

“Not for long.” Adam’s tone was grim. “After their trial, they’re either set free for put to death immediately.”

Tommy swallowed. “And do you find them innocent often?”

“None that I can remember,” Adam admitted.

“I can’t - I can’t be here,” Tommy whispered, and then he turned and walked, quickly, quietly, back the way they had come. He managed to get several yards down the corridor before Adam reached his side.

“Tommy. Tommy, hey.” Adam caught Tommy’s hand and pulled him around to face him. “Tommy, it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Tommy said. “Sorry, I just - I need some air.”

“It’s fine,” Adam said. He curled a careful arm around Tommy’s back. “Let’s go back, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Tommy repeated. “I’m still not used to being inside, you know? And the thought of being locked up down here…”

“Come on,” Adam said, guiding Tommy forward. He could feel Tommy’s shoulders shake ever so minutely and gave them a squeeze. “You know, there’s one flaw in my fighting that I’ve never been able to overcome,” he said.

Tommy blinked at him.

“My left,” Adam said. “I always keep my elbow too high. I’ve been training with Isaac and Monte, but I can never manage to protect my side.” He gave Tommy a little shake. “Sometimes I’m amazed I haven’t gotten myself killed yet.”

It worked: Tommy managed a - small, tremulous - smile. “Maybe you should teach me,” he said. “It’d be a good thing to know, right?”

Adam grinned at him. “We’ll make a fighter out of you yet,” he said. “I promise.”



Adam didn’t have a chance to fulfill his promise for another few days, partly because there was the harvest to oversee and partly because Tommy tended to conveniently disappear whenever Adam had a moment, but he finally managed to drag both of them down to the clearing on an overcast afternoon.

Adam handed Tommy a practice blade and drew his own sword. If Tommy were one of the mountain’s children, Adam would have brought along a couple of sturdy sticks, but Tommy was a man, and a hunter at that. It was always best to learn with the true weight of a weapon in his hands, and Tommy was a warrior - Adam would do him no service, only disrespect, by assuming he would be unable to handle a blade.

Tommy held the weapon well enough, glancing over his shoulder as if to reassure himself they were still alone. Adam had offered one more time to bring Monte and Isaac with them, and Tommy had declined once again, so now it was just the two of them, facing each other across the open space.

“I can’t promise I’ll keep up with you for very long,” Tommy cautioned as he took his stance.

Adam glanced up at the cloud-laden sky for a moment before he focused on Tommy. “I doubt we’ll be able to practice for very long,” he said. “There’ll be rain soon.”

“What a shame,” Tommy said, and Adam laughed.

“We’ll go slow,” he said. “This is the basic strike.”

They went through several attacks and blocks, elementary maneuvers, before they sparred, Adam taking care not to overwhelm Tommy with speed and complexity of movement. Tommy was breathing hard but he didn’t complain, running through the exercises Adam showed him again and again, and he threw what little he had into their brief sparring sessions. He wasn’t particularly gifted, but he was undoubtedly getting better at it, and Adam was about to call a break and congratulate him when the other man, unexpectedly, feinted right and then swung left.

There was a moment when Adam could see it, could see Tommy’s blade slice into his unprotected side, right where Adam had told him to look for it. It would be so easy for Tommy - a moment’s inattention on Adam’s part, a heat of the moment decision on Tommy’s, and the mountain would be without an heir, at no one’s fault but Adam’s own. Tommy would be subjected to whispers and scornful looks, but life on the mountain was vicious, and his people would move on soon enough, forgetting all about the prince who had been stupid enough to reveal the one chink in his armor to a foreigner.

Adam could see it so clearly, and then Tommy turned his blade at the very last moment, smacking the flat of it against Adam’s hip. It stung, and Adam took a step back, Tommy following his lead.

“You’ll want to keep that protected,” Tommy said, lightly, but there was a question in his eyes.

Adam nodded, once, and Tommy let out a sharp breath.

“Again?” he asked, and Adam held his sword at the ready in response.



By the end of the day, Adam’s side was a dark, angry red, but he had blocked the last four swipes Tommy had made at him and couldn’t help the grin spreading over his face. Tommy was in less of a good mood, having been knocked to the ground by Adam time and time again, and when he picked himself up out of the dirt for the final time, his hand idly rubbed over his no doubt aching back.

“I don’t think I’m much of a sword fighter,” he said. “I’m better with a bow and arrow.”

“It’s a matter of practice, really,” Adam said, but he knew, and he had no doubt that Tommy knew he knew, that Tommy simply did not have the talent. With practice, lots and lots of practice, he would be able to become a decent warrior, but he lacked the natural ability to quickly pick up the movements. He lacked the instincts of when to dodge and when to lunge, the instincts that told him what his opponent was thinking, all of which were vital to being a great fighter.

“I’ll stick to hunting, I think,” Tommy said. He handed the borrowed sword to Adam, who wiped it down with a cloth before he used that same rag to blot the sweat from his forehead.

“There’s nothing wrong with hunting,” Adam said. He tossed a grin in Tommy’s direction. “All fighters need to eat, after all.”

Tommy laughed, tongue darting out between his teeth, and Adam ushered him towards the overhang. “Let’s head inside, it’s starting to rain.”



They made it inside just as the first burst of lightning split the sky, followed seconds later by a crash of thunder. The wind whipped icy rain after them, and they shuffled another few steps back.

“Man,” Tommy said. “I wouldn’t want to be a Greyman in this weather.”

Adam turned to him. “What do you mean?” he asked, a sharp note creeping into his voice. Did Tommy know something about the Greymen that Adam didn’t?

“Just, you know.” Tommy shrugged without meeting his eyes. “They’re out there in the open somewhere, aren’t they? I think I’m going to go dry off.” He reached up and squeezed Adam’s shoulder briefly. “Thanks for the lesson.”

He was gone before Adam could regain his footing, and although he could hear Tommy’s footsteps somewhere in front of him all the way up to their living quarters, he never quite managed to catch up.



It wasn’t long before the single, fat drops had turned into a downpour, the sound of water hitting rock audible throughout the caverns. Adam stopped at his own quarters to stow away the training blade and found Monte, Isaac, and Cassidy huddled over a game of Rocks, peering down at the colored pieces intently. He watched as Monte set down a red one and picked up one of the green, depositing it on the pile in front of him, and Isaac groaned.

“Man,” he protested, and Adam chuckled.

“Did he tell you he’s no good at that game?” he asked. “Because that’s a blatant lie.”

“We’re playing for one of Isaac’s carving knives,” Monte said. “Shut up.”

“I’m going,” Adam said, raising his hands. “Have any of you seen Allison?”

“She went up to the spy hole,” Cassidy said. “Where the guards keep watch.”

“I know where the spy hole is,” Adam called back, but none of the three men paid him any attention.



It wasn’t hard to find Allison. The guards had all but abandoned their post, huddling around a bend to protect themselves from the rain, but Allison sat perched at the edge of the opening, peering down at where not so long ago, the four of them had stood, staring up.

She glanced over her shoulder when Adam came closer. “What a weather,” she said.

“Thunder storms usually don’t make it this far inland,” Adam replied, sinking down opposite her, back to the wall.

“I’ve missed them.” Allison cut him a quick glance, laughed softly. “That’s stupid, right? A stupid thing to miss?”

“When we were down at the seaboard, you know what I missed?” Adam stretched out one leg, poked her thigh with his toes. He grinned. “Snow. Winters here are the most painful thing you can imagine, and yet there I was, sitting in the sand, wishing for snow.”

Allison tucked her hands underneath her thighs. “Does it snow a lot here, then?”

“Lots.” Adam nodded. “Higher than you’re tall. If I go out, I’ll sink in up to my neck.”

She laughed. “You’re a liar,” she said.

“Maybe.” Adam winked at her. “But how are you going to prove it?”

She didn’t reply, dropping her gaze the way she did when there was something she wasn’t saying, and Adam felt a sudden, rare, burst of panic.

“You like it here, right?” he asked. “You’re not secretly wishing you hadn’t decided to come with me?”

“I like it,” she assured him. She reached over and tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear. “I just need to get used to the idea that all those crazy adventures are now over.”

Adam had to swallow against the lump in his throat. He missed them too, of course, those long, hard, dirty days that had nevertheless been full of laughter. But he was home, at least - he was surrounded by friends and family. Sometimes he forgot that all this was as strange and foreign to his friends as his people imagined the places beyond the plains to be.

“We can have other crazy adventures,” he offered.

“I’m sure we will,” she told him softly. “Just - give us some time, Adam, alright? A little time to adjust.”

“I will,” Adam said. “And anytime you need anything, I’ll be there for you. I promise.”

She nodded, and he grinned.“And right now, you know what we need? Tea.”

“Tea?” she repeated.

“Nice, hot, steaming tea,” Adam corrected her. “Because I’m getting cold sitting here on this damp rock, and if I’m cold, you must be well on the way to freezing.”

“I am a little cold,” she admitted, and laughed when Adam lifted her bodily off the ground and onto her feet.

“Off we go, then,” he said, and told her such outrageous lies about the healing powers of tea that she was still laughing when they reached the council hall. She had her arm tucked around his, head thrown back, but she quickly fell silent at the sight of the King’s Council,
huddled close together. The king had his arm around the queen, listening intently though his eyes were turned away as she spoke.

Adam gave Allison’s arm a light tug when she slowed. “Come,” he said.

“Should we really be here?” she whispered to him, and he smiled at her.

“We should.” He pulled her forwards. “This will be us, one day. It will be you.”

Marcus stepped aside when they approached and Adam settled himself on the ground at his father’s feet, pulling Allison down with him, a clear sign that he had no intent to interfere with their discussion.

His father’s hand settled on his shoulder. “I’ve sent out a patrol,” he said. “They’ve reported that the Greymen have followed the Green River inland, away from the Mountain. They’ve burned the village at the foot of Lizard’s Rock to the ground.”

“Now they’ve turned their horses back towards the Mountain,” Sarah, the grey-haired woman with an impish gleam in her eyes added. “They’re not riding hard, but if they know where they’re headed, they could be here in only a few days.”

Adam could feel Allison’s hand tighten on his arm, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“We have no proof that they know where they’re headed,” Marcus said, forcefully, as if he’d said it before. “And even if they do, they would need to beat the mountain before they could get to us.”

“They could never beat the mountain,” Sarah said. “But they don’t have to. All they have to do is seal off our exits, and we’ll starve.”

“Maybe if it were spring, yes.” All eyes turned to the queen, who smiled mildly. “If the weather was warming and we were low on supplies, yes, that would be cause for concern. But winter is coming hard and fast, and we’ve already gathered most of what we need. Even sealed in, we would only need to wait, while the Greymen would have to battle us as well as the season.”

“There is another option,” the king said. “We’ve only discussed hiding from them or battling them outright, but we could send out a messenger to meet them. Simply ask them why they’re here.”

He looked around, but his advisors all shook their heads.

“We would never agree with their terms,” Marcus said. “Not when they’re razing settlements to the ground. So why bother asking?”

“We cannot bed down with the enemy,” Sarah said, and Adam thought this might have been the first time he had witnessed the woman and Marcus agreeing on anything.

“We cannot ensure that our messengers would return unharmed,” the queen added, and smiled in Allison’s direction when Adam’s friend turned wide eyes on her.

“I’d say that’s a resounding no,” the king said. He turned to Adam. “What about you, my Prince?” he asked. “Do you agree with my advisors?”

Slowly, Adam nodded. “If we ride out to meet them,” he said, “it only proves to the Greymen that we are close by, and perceive them as a threat. I say, better to let them doubt their search and their impact, leave them on uneven footing, than assure them that their scare tactic is working.”

The king nodded, a smile gracing his lips before he raised his head to face his advisors. “So we prepare for a siege,” he said. “Keep the children inside. Let no one travel to far, but gather all provision available close by. We will not let the Greymen catch us off-guard.”

“Yes, my King,” they echoed, and Adam drew Allison upwards and away while the council began to divide tasks that still needed to be done.

“Let’s get you some of that tea,” he said quietly, and she nodded just as quietly in return.



Adam had two baskets full of fresh nuts under his arms when he rounded a corner to find Tommy sitting on a rise with a little girl in his lap. Lianne, Sasha’s youngest - barely old enough to toddle after her mother, but with a fierce scowl for anyone who dared step in her way. In Tommy’s arms, however, she seemed content, idly tugging at the lacing at his throat, and Tommy seemed to have nothing but smiles for the little girl. He smiled at Adam, too, when he caught sight of him leaning against the corridor’s wall, pointing him out to the girl and whispering something in her ear.

She wasn’t particularly interested, reaching up to toy with Tommy’s hair instead, and Tommy grinned as he pulled away.

“I’ve never seen you with a child,” Adam remarked.

Tommy shrugged, tickled the girl with a finger when she made a sleepy noise of protest. “Not many place as unconditional a trust in a mountain runner as you do,” he said. “I’m not constantly surrounded by women asking me to hold their children.”

Recognizing the teasing for what it was, Adam winked at him. “I’m simply irresistible,” he said. “How can I help it if every woman wants to draw me into her family?”

“One day, they will realize how utterly uninterested you are,” Tommy muttered, more to himself than Adam it seemed.

Nevertheless, Adam bit his lip at the sharp note in Tommy’s voice. “I will have a family one day,” he said. “I must. Or at least an heir to take my place.”

Tommy’s gaze dropped to his lap. “I know that,” he said.

Adam reached down to cup Tommy’s chin, tilt his face upwards into the light. “You must also know that I have no desire to be with a woman.”

Tommy’s eyes remained stubbornly averted. “I do,” he said. “But you must. To have an heir.”

Adam kissed him before he could think better of it, sealing his lips over Tommy’s for only a moment before he pulled away. “That doesn’t mean I want to,” he reminded the other man firmly.

Tommy gazed at him, eyes dark, unreadable. He didn’t say anything, but Adam didn’t need him to, to know that it had not been a good time. He and Tommy, they needed space, and quiet, time to let it all unfold. It wasn’t right here, like this, in a hectic corridor with a child clinging to Tommy’s arm.

Still, when Tommy’s lips curled into a smile, Adam knew that they had reached an understanding. Tommy would wait for him, now, until the time was right, until they could let everything happen the way it was meant to be.



A few days later, there was another gathering in the council hall. Not a feast, not that grand, but the days were growing short and there was little else to do at night but sit in one another’s company, some working still in the fire’s light, others dancing and laughing and drinking.

Tommy’s head fit neatly underneath Adam’s shoulder, ear pressed against the curve of his ribs. One hand toyed idly with the pendants hanging from Adam’s neck while he watched the going-ons around them, the girls and women dancing with their scarves and the people pressed to the walls to give them room, lazy with good food and heady drink.

Allison lay pillowed against Adam’s other side, her leg slung over his hip, knee occasionally nudging Tommy’s. She had nicked a flagon from somewhere that she kept passing across, watching Tommy take a swallow before reaching for the drink herself. Tommy had to have noticed the looks she kept giving him, and yet he seemed content to lay pressed to Adam’s side, body warm against Adam’s from shoulder to hip.

Adam smiled lazily when Monte knelt on the ground next to him, raising his brows at the way they lay, entangled. “Busy day?” he asked, and Adam grinned.

“Quite.”

Monte snorted, gesturing for Allison’s flask and taking a large drink before sliding back to lean against the wall behind them, watching the festivities with keen eyes.

Allison held the flask out once again. When Tommy merely turned his head away, she tilted her head back and took a large swig.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Tommy asked.

Allison took another swallow and nodded seriously. “And then I’m going to make you tell me what’s on the other side of the mountain.”

Tommy glanced at Adam, grinning. “No luck, I’m afraid,” he said. “I’ll need to be a whole lot drunker than this.”

“But I can’t drink anymore,” Allison said mournfully.

“Then stop,” Adam cut in for the first time, taking the bottle away despite Allison’s noise of protest.

Mara, one of the dancing women, must have seen the exchange, because a few moments later she was by their side, offering to teach Allison the moves of the dance.

Allison pushed to her feet. “Sounds awesome,” she said, beaming. “You coming, Tommy?” she asked.

Mara hesitated, caught Adam’s gaze but he shrugged. “This is a dance for women,” she cautioned.

“So?” Allison demanded, shifting a little unsteadily on her feet.

Mara turned to Tommy who merely shrugged as well.

Shaking her head, she gestured them towards the dancers.

Allison laughed and tugged Tommy with her, and to Adam’s perhaps unwarranted surprise Tommy went, accepting a scarf from one of the chuckling women.

It came as little surprise that both he and Allison were uncoordinated and clumsy, but they were obviously having a good time, and no else appeared to mind. Adam watched them for a moment, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He turned to Monte, taking a quick swallow from his own cup, about to share a laugh about their two friends with the other man, when Sophia crouched down next to him, a jug in her hands.

“More mead, Adam?”she asked.

Adam very nearly choked on his drink at that, because Sophia had always been the kind of person who would sooner empty Adam’s mug and force him to go for a refill than offer to serve him. But her eyes were not even on him, gaze fixed on Isaac even as she poured more golden liquid into Adam’s offered cup.

“Isaac?” Adam prompted.

Isaac lifted his mug, as captivated by Sophia as she appeared to be by him. The woman wasted no time stepping over Adam’s legs. She refilled Isaac’s mug quickly, only half-empty from the looks of it, set the jug down and spread her skirts out neatly as she settled down.

Adam turned to share a quick grin with Monte. Children, he mouthed.

A moment later, Monte slipped into place beside him. “I’m fairly sure you’re younger than most people here,” he said.

Adam laughed. “But I’m a Prince of the Mountain. You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however I want, boy,” Monte said, Adam grinned at him in return, and that was that.



“Neil, stop,” Adam said, not for the first time, but at least this time it worked.

His brother fell silent, jaw set in a hard line, eyes blazing.

Adam glanced over his shoulder, but there was no one beside them at the stream running through the cavern but two children, and they didn’t look like they cared very much what the Prince and his brother were quietly arguing about.

“I mean it,” he said. “I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

“I won’t stop saying it just because you have blinders on,” Neil insisted, trying on an earnest tone for the first time since he’d cornered Adam. “We don’t know anything about him,” he insisted. “He could be dangerous. What if he sells us out to the Greymen?”

“How could he?” Adam snapped back. “By telling them where to find us? Neil, if they don’t already know, chances are still high they’ll discover us eventually.”

“What if he tells them where the map is?” Neil pressed.

Adam shook his head. “How would he know?”

“Maybe he does.” Neil ran his fingers through his scraggly hair. “It’s not exactly a well-kept secret.”

“Well enough,” Adam reminded him. “It’s not like we tell it to everyone who happens to pass through.”

Neil crossed his arms, his previously mutinous expression now suspiciously close to a pout, and he wouldn’t quite meet Adam’s eyes.

“And,” Adam continued, “even assuming that Tommy is the kind of person who would betray the people who have offered him food and shelter and a home, weren’t you the one proposing we make a deal with the Greymen in the first place? To rid ourselves of them?”

“What, I can’t learn?” Neil rolled his eyes, no doubt at the dubious expression Adam couldn’t quite keep off his face. “I sat in on Father’s council a few times. I don’t think making deals with Greymen is a good idea.”

“Anymore.”

“Anymore,” Neil conceded. “Oh, stop looking at me like that. I thought you wanted me to grow up.”

“I do.” Adam fixed his brother with a serious look. “And part of that would be to stop bad-mouthing Tommy every chance you get.”

Neil sighed, loudly, and Adam gritted his teeth.

“He’s not a bad guy, you know.”

“I know you think that.” Neil closed his hand over Adam’s arm and squeezed tight. “But all you see, all you talk about, is Tommy. You’re so blind with desire, he could be selling us off to the Greymen one by one, and you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Watch your tone,” Adam said, pushing Neil aside.

“I’m serious, Adam,” his brother called after him, but Adam had heard enough.

He stalked down the corridors, scowling when he found himself keeping a look-out for Tommy, and veered off to find his advisors instead. He found them surrounded by a group of children, a long piece of fabric hung across the cavern. Monte sat on the ground with a carving knife, creating what appeared to be an entire zoo of wooden animals, and Adam raised an eyebrow at them all.

Grinning wide, Allison tugged on her tunic. It was diagonally striped, in bright colors, and it was so like her that Adam could feel a smile tug at his lips despite his sour mood.

“We’re putting on a play for them,” she told him. “We told them they could each keep one of them afterwards.”

And sure enough, Isaac was currently walking a little horse and an even tinier man across the top of the fabric, narrating their journey in a high-pitched voice. Allison picked up a rendering of a woman and joined him, and Monte, who had glanced over at her, gave Adam a quick smile before he bent back over his work.

Adam ran his fingers over the artfully carved figurines: The slow, horse-like creature that had faithfully carried them across the desert but left them sore for days; the enormous fish they had found washed up on the beach; the beetle that had, in reality, shimmered a bright, bluish green.

“These are gorgeous,” he said, looking up at his friend.

“I used to carve for my daughters,” Monte told him, and then Isaac said something that had all the children in the room jeer and laugh, and before Adam had time to press for more, Monte had turned away.

The play ended amidst much laughter and applause, and then a frantic rush to the small zoo Monte had set up. Dozens of little bodies pressed towards the figurines, and others clung to Monte’s shirt, begging him for this or that, and Monte found himself pressed against the stone behind him while Allison and Isaac had wisely chosen to flee to the far wall.

“Where did they all come from?” Monte called to Adam over the ruckus.

“They live here,” Adam called back, laughing, and Monte’s eyes went large before he turned to yank away a half-finished figurine from Carrie’s greedy fingers.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually even the pickiest child was satisfied, and even a few adults who had come to see what the fuss was about, and only the four of them were left. Allison laid her feet in Adam’s lap and Isaac sat down to oil the leather straps for his knives while Monte absently worked on a miniature of the tall trees that had provided some much-needed shade for them at the seaboard.

“What’s wrong, Adam?” Monte eventually asked. “You don’t usually come to sit with us.”

Adam felt a stab of guilt at his words, however innocently spoken. It was true - he’d been shamefully neglecting his friends, after he’d dragged them away from everything they’d ever known, and they weren’t even angry with him. They were concerned about him instead, and that just made everything worse.

“Do you think I spent too much time with Tommy?” he asked.

Monte looked up from the animal he was carving, face blank, but Isaac behind him didn’t bother to hide his snort. Allison glared at him before she gently covered Adam’s hand with her own, which Adam took to be a bad sign.

“Well, it depends,” she said. “You, like, like him, right?”

Adam dropped his gaze for a moment before he met hers again, earnestly. “But I don’t want you to feel as if I’ve abandoned you for a pretty face. You’re my friends. I’ve brought you here with me, and we’ve been through too much together for me to do that.”

Monte shook his head. “We’re all adults, Adam,” he said. He cut a glance at Allison. “Mostly. But we can handle you having a little crush.”

Allison nodded even as Adam grimaced at Monte’s words. “We’re not upset about anything,” she assured him. “It’s just weird, that’s all. It was just the four of us for so long, and now there are all these people laying claim to you.”

“I know.” Adam sighed. “Maybe we should do something tonight,” he said, looking up hopefully. “Just the four of us, and something strong to drink. Like old times.”

“No Tommy?” Isaac asked dubiously.

“No Tommy,” Adam nodded, steeling his heart to do so.

“Are you going to sing?” Allison asked, voice going high with excitement.

“I’ll sing,” Adam told her.

And he did.



His friends might have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of young ones vying for one of their carved animals, but for Adam, it was the norm. There were always children under the mountain. Romance blossomed hard and fast, and most women had already had a child or two by the time they reached Adam’s age. But they rarely had time to watch over their offspring, their days long and hard. As a result, Adam had been taking care of children almost since he himself had been an infant. That was simply the way it was on the mountain - you were always needed and useful, no matter how old you were. Children cared for children just as parents did.

So it was no surprise that Tommy found him one day with two little boys in his arms, both struggling to get away, to see what was going on. Adam tried hard to keep them both in check, but one of them stuck his hand in Adam’s mouth and the other yanked on his hair, and of course that was when Neil walked by.

“Oh Adam, hold my baby,” he said, high-pitched and shrill, and Tommy burst out laughing.

He sobered at Adam’s look and took one of the boys from him, holding him until their mother came to claim them. As soon as he was free of his burden, Adam sank to the ground, stretching his tired legs out in front of him.

Smiling sympathetically, Tommy seated himself in Adam’s lap and gave him a sweet, soft kiss that Adam couldn’t help but deepen. And then Neil, returning from whatever errand he had been running, shook his head at the two of them, and Adam glowered at the back of his brother’s head.

Tommy followed Adam’s gaze and grinned, winding his arms - wiry and firm from years of archery, and yet so slight - around Adam’s neck. “He’ll get over it,” he whispered into Adam’s hair.

Adam sighed. “He’s being childish, I know. But somehow I still want to apologize.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tommy reminded him gently, but that didn’t stop Adam from feeling like he had.



Isaac didn’t like Tommy.

It took Adam a while to figure it out, because the two tended to avoid each other, or when they couldn’t, both remained silent. Adam had no doubt that they did this for his sake, was grateful for it, but it still bothered him more than he liked to admit. He admired Isaac, his brashness, his attitude, but Tommy had sneaked in under his defenses. He wanted them to get along.

He could have thanked the spirits, if he believed in them, that at least Tommy and his other advisors got along. Allison and Tommy seemed to have found something special in one another. They didn’t talk much, Adam didn’t think, or at least Tommy didn’t, but it was a rare day when they didn’t sit somewhere, heads together like two children thinking up a prank, whispering and laughing, yet pretending nothing had happened when Adam asked. They danced together and laughed and sang, and it warmed Adam inside to see it.

What Monte saw in Tommy, Adam wasn’t sure. They didn’t seem to speak to each other much. Sometimes Tommy came to sit by Monte when the man was quiet. Once, when Adam was oiling the leather straps on his saddle, Monte was constructing some sort of instrument out of wood and wires, and when Tommy came over to take a look, began to explain what he was doing. He spoke of resonance and sound, how there needed to be tension on the wires or else it wouldn’t work.

“Like the string of a bow,” Tommy said.

Monte glanced up at him, eyes wide; a moment later, a wide grin broke out across his face. “That’s right,” he said. “Just like the string of a bow.”

Adam bowed his head back over his leather. He didn’t know what Monte saw in Tommy, but it appeared to be doing both of them good. There was something relaxed and easy about Monte like this, sitting with the instrument in his lap, Tommy crouched by his side. A moment of calm for a man who was all tension and coiled muscles.

It was good to see.



And then, overnight, the cold came. Adam woke early one morning to find that the horses were being brought inside since the grass was stiff with frozen dew. He tried to speak to Cassidy only to find that the man was too busy stitching cloaks and mending coats to even look up from his work. Tommy sat cross-legged on their furs, sharpening his knives and arrow tips for a last bout of hunting before winter crept down from the mountain to stay. Monte joined a group of men and women that went out to collect some more firewood before it grew too damp, decked out in a heavy cloak and hat, and even Isaac could be convinced to wear gloves that protected his talented fingers from the weather.

Over his jacket lined with animal fur, Tommy had taken to wearing a heavy woolen cloak that swept behind him as he strode along the corridors. It was from a coarse, dark green cloth, and when Tommy stood still, it fell around his body, cloaking him completely, like the tree people from legends.

Adam asked Isaac to make a sturdier pair of boots, as well, and the man did, for Adam’s sake if not for Tommy’s. The look of sheer delight on Tommy’s face had been well worth it, however, even after Tommy looked up at him with some trepidation and mumbled, “I can’t hunt in these, though. They’re too heavy.”

“Hunting season is nearly over,” Adam reminded him. “You’ll go out, what, once, twice? We’re prepared for the winter, and you should be, too.”

“Come with me?” Tommy asked, boots still in his hand, and Adam found himself nodding without even having to think about it.



The grass was stiff beneath their feet when they set out, dewdrops frozen around the blades. Tommy led the way, quiet and self-assured, his boots - his hunting boots, still, despite the cold - silent on the ground. When they reached a small clearing, grass growing amidst the brush, Tommy swung himself up into a tree. Adam climbed after him, his bigger bulk causing him some difficulties, sitting down on a broad branch, facing Tommy. The smaller man didn’t protest when Adam wrapped his hands around Tommy’s thighs and pulled him half into his lap, just kept his hand on his bow and returned Adam’s gaze when Adam’s eyes found his.

Every gust of breath hung in the air between them.

Adam leaned in first, pressing his lips to Tommy’s. The man’s nose was cold, red from the crisp air, when it brushed against Adam’s cheek. Tommy drew back a little but allowed Adam to chase him, reaching up to wrap his free arm around Adam’s neck and bury his fingers in Adam’s hair. They kissed quietly, silently, despite the chill hanging in the air between them. Adam lost himself in the feel, in the touch, in a way he rarely allowed himself to, and he startled when Tommy suddenly pulled back.

The other man pressed his finger to his lips before Adam could ask. He nodded into the clearing. There, grazing fitfully, was a doe - several years old, from the looks of her, had probably been the mother of several young. She was alone, and beautiful, a warm brown against the frosty grey of the forest.

Tommy twisted in his lap to pull an arrow from his quiver, lifted his bow. He drew back his arm, elbow raised ever so slightly above his ear, and let the arrow fly, sinking it singing into the doe’s heart.

She collapsed without a sound, or perhaps she was merely too far away to hear.

Tommy let the bow sink without the satisfaction he had shown at the market. “We’ll need to get her quickly,” he said. “The predators are preparing for winter. They won’t take long to find her.”

“In a moment,” Adam said. He turned Tommy’s face with his hands, leaned their foreheads together. “You’re extraordinary,” he whispered, and Tommy laughed, but his hands came up to cover Adam’s as well as his small fingers could.

They carried the doe to the outcrop in the rock face where she could be hoisted upwards, didn’t already begin preparing her because they could use everything, now that winter was coming and supplies would be scarce. As soon as she was out of sight and Stacy gave them the sign that they could leave, Tommy slung his bow over his shoulder.

“Shall we head back?” he asked.

“In a little while.” Adam took Tommy’s hand in his. “There’s somewhere I’d like to go, first.”



Tommy’s eyes went wide when they ducked past a few undergrown trees to find a pond on the other side, water clear and deep, with a large boulder almost entirely submerged on one side of it.

Adam grinned at him. “Get in,” he said, tilting his head towards the still pool of water.

“You want us to bathe?” Tommy said, with a tone that clearly implied what he thought of the idea.

Adam grinned at him. “I do,” he said. “Winter is coming. We should take advantage while we still can.”

“I think I see ice forming on the other shore,” Tommy said, but Adam merely rolled his eyes. For all Tommy was a hardened mountain runner, Adam would have assumed he was used to a little cold water.

“Not this cold,” Tommy protested when Adam informed him of his thoughts. “Mountain runners know how hard life can be. There is no need for us to subject ourselves to unnecessary torture.”

Nevertheless, even as the words left his mouth, Tommy unbelted his tunic and unlaced his boots. His pants and shirt, he let fall at the shore’s edge, and by the time Adam had removed his boots and hung his own pants over a low branch to keep them clean, Tommy had already waded into the water.

Adam turned at the other man’s gasp to see Tommy waist-high in the pool, fingers curled in the air, mouth open like the cold had sucked the laughter out of him mid-moment. It occurred to him then that he had never seen Tommy in anything less than a full shirt, and that he had not expected him to have lines of ink running all the way from his shoulders down to his wrists. Adam had seen it before, but never like this; never patterns and sweeping lines that drew the eye into a wild and breathless dance, dragging from his wrists to his shoulder blades and back again. He hadn’t known such a thing was possible, but he wasn’t surprised that it suited Tommy well.

The man himself only slowly managed to dip his arms into the water. “It’s cold!” he said, looking back at Adam with wide eyes.

Adam slipped his tunic up over his head and draped it over the branch as well, tugging here and there to avoid creases. “It is,” he said. “It will be too cold for bathing soon, so enjoy it while you can.”

“Interesting how you yourself are still on shore,” Tommy commented, turning to face him fully. His gaze flickered down Adam’s naked body before they settled back on his face, cheeks heating.

Adam returned the favor, and that was when he noticed the scar on Tommy’s upper belly. It was stark against his white skin, purple from the cold, and vicious, almost a finger long and thick. There was no way it could have been an accident.

Tommy, alerted by Adam’s silence, followed his gaze. “I hurt him in return,” he said. A moment later, he plunged deeper into the pond, hiding the scar and most of his tattoos behind a murky layer of water. “Are you coming, then?” he asked without meeting Adam’s eyes.

Adam obliged him, wading into the water slowly. It was cold enough to curl his toes, but it felt good, too. Refreshing. One last reprieve, one moment of quiet before several months of being confined into narrow corridors and crowded caverns with dozens of others.

“And you call me a weakling,” Tommy commented, eyeing Adam who was still only up to his knees in water.

In retaliation, Adam threw himself forward. Feeling the water close over his head was like a solid punch to the chest, but Tommy’s shriek of outrage was more than worth it.

“You are incorrigible,” Tommy protested.

“And cute,” Adam added with a smirk.

“And insufferable.”

Adam slipped backwards, submerging himself all the way to his neck when Tommy, arms wrapped around his middle, made for the shore.

“I might need until spring to warm up again,” he said over his shoulder, fixing Adam with a stern look.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Lay down on the rock,” he said. “The stone is hot, still. You’ll be fine.”

The other man rolled his eyes but obeyed, flattening himself to the surface of the boulder and rubbing his cheek against the sun-warmed surface.

Grinning, Adam waded over, leaned his elbows on the rock, not caring much that the water clinging to his skin formed dark stains on the surface. Tommy rewarded him with a disgruntled frown that only lasted until Adam reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind a small, decorated ear.

Adam pressed his lips to Tommy’s, smiling when the other man allowed his tongue to slip inside despite the goose bumps forming on his skin. This, here, was worth the cold. It was worth everything.



Tommy was still shivering when they had found their way back into the dark corridors, arms tucked firmly around himself despite Adam’s cloak slung over his shoulders. Adam himself could feel the chill of the water all the way down to his bones, but that didn’t matter because Tommy pressed up against Adam’s side, a small, eager smile blossoming on his face every time he caught Adam’s gaze.

He greeted a few people as they passed; Gareth, Sophia, old Miriam with her own and someone else’s child. They each carried lanterns and Adam asked for one of them, ignoring Tommy’s questioning gaze when he passed it over to the other man.

“We’ll need it to find our way,” he told him once Miriam had gone.

Tommy, shrugging, made towards the cavern in which they usually slept, the two of them with Allison and Isaac and Monte, but Adam caught his hand and tugged. “This way,” he answered Tommy’s questioning look.

The mountain had endless caverns, some too small to use, others unstable, dangerous. With his arm tight around Tommy’s shoulders, Adam found one he had claimed for himself in his younger years, a place to be by himself or with another person. The ceiling was low, the entrance even lower, but there were furs spread out across the floor and stubs of candles on each rocky ledge, used, cold wax cascading along the sides.

“Light the candles, please,” he said to Tommy. He himself tugged one of the furs free and draped it over the entrance, tucking its edges into cracks and crevices to secure its position. When he turned, Tommy had sprawled out on the stack of furs in the candles’ golden glow, legs falling open in an invitation Adam wasn’t sure Tommy was aware of.

Nevertheless, Adam intended to take it.

He went to his knees, carefully so as not to spook the other man, and leaned down to kiss him again, propped up on his hands. Tommy was pliant against him, loose and relaxed, though his skin was still chilled and his nose rubbed red from his attempts to stop it from running.

He could hear people talking, laughing, but they were far away, and Tommy was right underneath him, watching him with wide, dark eyes. Suddenly breathless, Adam’s fingers found the waistband of Tommy’s pants underneath his tunic, slipped between fabric and skin and pulling a little. Tommy smiled, cheeks slowly flushing pink, then red, but he complied with the unspoken question, slipped out of his pants and kicked them down to rest between their feet. Adam gripped Tommy’s knee, slid his hand upwards, along the smooth, white skin towards the place where hip met thigh.

Tommy opened for him easily, a gasp that wasn’t so much smothered as it was silent. One of his hands came up to grip the fabric of his shirt, catching several of the dangling necklaces, and Adam grinned at him. Tommy tugged a little, urging him closer, pressed a kiss underneath Adam’s jaw and arched his stomach upwards.

Adam took the hint, running his hand possessively over the smooth skin for a moment before slipping it underneath, lifting Tommy towards him, his own hips moving in counterpoint. It was slow, but it wasn’t gentle. Tommy gasped with every movement, no more than a puff of air against Adam’s neck, his fingers digging into Adam’s back. Adam didn’t mind the pain -he doubted he would have minded anything if it meant seeing Tommy’s face fall apart in pleasure the way it did.

Even after, when they lay side by side, silent but content, Tommy’s face was lax and tension-free in a way it wasn’t usually. His fingers slid over Adam’s ribs, slowly, gently, too firm to be teasing. It wouldn’t be long before it lulled him to sleep. He ought to get up, remove the fur to make sure air could circulate, confirm that Monte and Isaac and Allison had made it to bed all right, but his limbs were warm and slow and he could feel Tommy’s cheek pressed to his side, hot breath damp against his shirt, and everything else could wait until tomorrow.



Adam woke to footsteps pounding closer and had his dagger in his hand before he even opened his eyes. He barely relaxed his grip on the weapon when he saw that it was Monte, because the man was pale and tense when he pushed aside the fur still draped over the entrance. Beside him, Tommy was stiff as a board, a small knife gripped tightly in the hand that rested oh-so-casually on Adam’s hip.

“You’re wanted,” Monte said quietly, but it was to Tommy, not Adam.

The council hall was crowded with people when they arrived; though their chatter died down the moment Tommy stepped through the entrance.

“You summoned me?” Tommy asked, voice quiet and even, though Adam could see his hands shake.

“There have been some concerns,” Adam’s father hedged.

Beside him, the queen reassuringly squeezed his arm.

“About the Greymen at our door, and your involvement with them,” the king continued.

“What involvement?” Tommy asked, at the same time as Adam cut in, “What Greymen?”

“The ones searching for an entrance outside,” Neil said.

Adam cast a look at his brother, leaning against the wall by their parents’ throne with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His smug expression died when he caught Adam’s gaze.

“And you think I had something to do with that?” Tommy asked, voice flipping.

“Didn’t you?” It was the queen this time, pale but serious. “You’re new to us, we don’t know you. Every time you accompany someone into town, you disappear for hours. You go out alone and bring back nothing as proof that you were out hunting.”

“What are you saying?” Tommy asked. He sounded like he was pleading.

“We think you lead them here,” Neil said, when nobody else would.

“That is ridiculous,” Tommy said. “Why would I lead them here? This is the only home I have left.”

“So you say,” Adam’s father said, and Tommy, open-mouthed, fell silent.

The king smiled grimly. “Who’s to say you’ve not found a home with the Greymen, and are doing everything in your power to ensure their loyalty to you?”

“Swear my loyalty to Greymen?” Tommy asked, voice deadly quiet, and Marcus shifted on his feet.

“We have no proof your family died the way you say they did,” he said.

“That’s what you think?” Tommy asked, turning on his feet.

No one met his eyes, but no one spoke up in his defense either.

“It’s decided, then,” the king said, forcing himself to look at Tommy.

“It isn’t,” Adam cut in, because he’d be damned before he allowed this to just happen. “Tommy deserves a fair trial, as per our laws. This is not the time for this.”

“We can’t just allow him to roam our halls,” Neil said, challenging.

Adam shook his head, even as Tommy turned to look at him with large, fearful eyes. “So we lock him up. Wait with this until after we have taken care of the Greymen. They are what we ought to worry about right now, not about who’s to blame.”

Neil looked like he wanted to argue, but then the king nodded, once. “So we shall,” he said. “Adam, go take care of Tommy. My council, it is time to act.”



Part 4