Continuation of Chapter 85 - Pow Wow
Meanwhile in another suite...
Back to start of Chapter 85
Up in the dormer room he shared with Naveen, Warrick changed out of the long tunic and silken trousers. He may have thought the day had had a bizarre twist to it when he'd donned the costume. Warrick shook his head; bizarre wasn't the half of it. He'd had a front row view of the events downstairs and still had no real comprehension for what had transpired.
Sitting on the bed to lace his boots, Warrick noticed a bit of lace peeking from under the overhanging bedding. One of Orli's hankies; Warrick remembered tucking it into his own pocket this morning. Ah, Mon Dieu, Orli had mentioned White Wing had a dinner 'date' with Viggo, and Orli intended to help the young Indian dress for the 'special, but nothing special' event. Knowing Viggo and the brave Wind in the Grass were out searching for clues, Warrick doubted anyone had bothered to let the poor boys know what was going on.
Deciding a short delay before reporting to Marton wouldn't hurt, Warrick made his way down the back stairs to the suite the young Indians were in. He knocked softly on the door, twisting the cap in his hands between his fingers.
Orli jumped at the knock, and exchanged a shocked look with White Wing. The tap to the door had come before either could think what they should do. Perhaps it was someone with news of the situation that had taken Viggo and Wind in the Grass away from White Wing so abruptly.
Trying to smile to reassure White Wing, Orli stepped towards the door and pulled it open.
"Warrick! Thank heaven. What's going on? Wind in the Grass and Viggo went off on some 'secret mission' or other, and White Wing is concerned someone's… well… dead. I… it couldn't be anyone from the house, could it? Do you know anything? Please tell me you do?"
Unable to help his nervous chatter, Orli barely gave Warrick time to answer as he moved into the room and shut the door behind him. "I'm worried about Sean," he blurted, his fear rising.
White Wing's heartbeat increased triplefold when the knock sounded on the door, but he held still, not wanting to appear frightened to whoever was there. Relieved that it was only Warrick, he let out a soft breath as Orli started talking and almost didn't stop. A frown creased his brow as he studied the dark man's expression, but he said nothing; not that he had much chance with Orli's chatter.
Smiling, Warrick chuckled, winked at White Wing and then rolled his eyes, biding his time until Orli took a breath.
"You have no reason to worry about Mr. Sean; actually, he should be home soon." Warrick addressed Orli's last comment first. "Eric is missing and the men are out looking for clues, so you shouldn't have anything to worry about either, White Wing," Warrick directed at the beautiful Winkte.
"I wanted to check in with you because I'll be running messages for Mr. Marton. You remember, like the other week when the city official's son made such a fool of himself and we had to discreetly arrange passage to Sacramento until the furor died down?"
Relief swept through Orli, and he turned to offer a pleased smile back at White Wing, who didn't appear much happier for all the reassurance Warrick was giving. Narrowing his eyes slightly at White Wing's expression, Orli looked back at Warrick.
"Oh yes, I remember. It won't be very nice going out in this weather though. Do be sure to wrap up well, won't you? And… you're sure no-one is actually dead?"
White Wing stood in silence, his eyes shifting from Orli to Warrick and back again as he listened to them speak. It was true that someone missing did not necessarily mean they were dead, but if the men were 'looking for clues' it could mean they were thinking to find this 'Eric', wherever he'd gone. What better trackers were there than Wind in the Grass and-if he had anywhere near the skill of Wind-Far Rider?
All White Wing could think was that there would be no dinner with his husband tonight. His heart dropped and he sat down on the edge of the bed abruptly, his eyes falling to rest on his hands on his legs. He knew Far Rider and Wind would be leaving soon, and he would be left here. He couldn't stay in this room if that were so, he decided, looking around blankly. Not alone. Perhaps he should offer to go with them.
"I'll be fine, love," Warrick reached out to coast his fingers over Orli's cheek and into the soft curls framing his face. "Cook will no doubt have an oilskin for me to wear." He traced his thumb over the lower lip Orli had a habit of nibbling, and nodded his head at White Wing, implying Orli should go to his friend. Receiving a wide-eyed, possibly panic-stricken look in return, Warrick turned to White Wing himself.
"You do not need to fret either." Voice softly modulated, Warrick stepped over and hunkered down in front of the pretty-boy. Covering one hand comfortingly, he tipped up White Wing's chin. "If your men are needed in the days to come, I know Orli would love to stay with you."
Warrick again subtly tipped his head, hoping Orli would get the hint and come over to reassure his friend.
White Wing stared sadly into Warrick's kind eyes as the man explained how he needn't be alone. Shifting carefully out of the dark man's grip on his chin, he cast a look towards Orli. He understood how easily people here moved around from bed to bed, and they probably thought White Wing would do the same since he did not share a bed with his husband, but with his closest friend.
There was no way he could share a bed with Orli.
Not wanting to offend, he said nothing.
Orli, finally getting the hints Warrick was throwing at him, moved to sit beside his sad-eyed Indian friend.
"I'll do whatever I can to make it easier, White Wing," he said. "You don't have to be alone if they need to go with the others to find Eric; I promise."
If anything, Warrick's smiled softened more When White Wing moved his chin off his palm. The small hand under his other palm didn't move, though. Picking up both of White Wing's hands from his knees, Warrick cradled them in his much larger ones.
"Neither Orli or I have been a part of this fantastical household long. Having someone else around who's not so caught up in their interwoven relationships can help make it a little less scary. Especially when whoever is closest to us has to be away." Warrick flicked a glance at Orli and included him in a tiny wink. "I know helping Orli feel un-alone during the days when he first arrived helped me feel less alone."
"Thank you," White Wing managed, a not altogether unwelcome warmth flowing through him at Warrick's touch. He allowed a small smile towards Orli, not wanting his friend to think he didn't appreciate his help either, and then focused back on Warrick.
He could so very easily share a bed with this man, he found his traitorous mind thinking. Exotic though Orli was-a white Winkte, of all things!-to be with another such as himself was as taboo as a brave lying with another, nor would he want it. White Wing's desire lay fully with men, not with women or with others like himself. And Warrick was very attractive; he had an aura of welcoming sexuality that already made White Wing feel comfortable enough that he could effortlessly share strength with him.
But he would not do it. Far Rider would not look at him in the same way if he did, and White Wing was not even sure Wind in the Grass would. It would not be for the same reasons as he lay with those he was bound to by duty and love, and would be frowned upon by his People.
Besides, he had never been with someone not of his tribe, no matter what he had said to Far Rider about selling himself the way the boys here did. No matter how readily he could imagine his body entwined with Warrick's, nor how easily his senses were already aroused by the man's proximity when they definitely shouldn't be, it was not the right thing to do.
"I do not understand all the ways of this place, and there are things you do not know about my People…" White Wing hesitated, unsure how to put any of it. "I cannot be with just anyone, and for me to…" He glanced at Orli again as he trailed off, pain in his eyes. He had no wish to hurt either of these two who had been the most kind to him and Wind, but he could see no way other than to be honest. He tried again. "A Winkte has duties to his or her tribe; things that are honored and which give magical protection to the brave chosen by the Winkte. The brave in turn gives strength and power back to the Winkte."
Again he paused, unsure the two understood his meaning. "I cannot… share a bed with either of you." A blush suffused his features as he dropped his eyes, studying his soft and pale-seeming hands in Warrick's darker ones.
Orli blinked several times, exchanging a confused look with Warrick as White Wing began, and then understanding dawned. Or at least Orli thought it did, although 'share a bed' presumably meant more than just 'sleep in the same space' or White Wing wouldn't look so troubled by his own words. Unless it meant that the Indian would not touch someone who was not of his tribe, not even in such an innocent way as to literally sleep in the same bed with them.
"I'm sorry, White Wing; I'm not sure I understand," he said softly, a heat rising in his own face. "If you mean… uh… sex; that's okay. We would never expect that. But just to sleep? That's not allowed either?"
White Wing's heart was racing by now and he didn't know how to answer Orli. He shook his head, tightening his grip on Warrick's comforting hands. "I have never… I… I need… where is Wind in the Grass?"
To his shock and dismay, tears began to fall from his eyes, splashing harshly on Warrick's hands. Words in Lahkota flowed from his lips in his distress, and although he didn't let go of Warrick, he began to rock as he started to call his spirit guide, the soft chant lilting and rhythmic.
"Oh mon chaton." Without thinking, Warrick had White Wing's slim frame cradled on his lap. He breathed more endearments and nonsensical words as he rocked the crying child.
"We would never presume to make you 'share a bed' with either of us, or anyone in the household." Tucking White Wing under his chin, Warrick whisked away a fat tear with his thumb.
"Mi niñito." He looked up at Orli who was wringing his hands together, his face screwed into an expression of abject misery. "Why don't you ring for some tea for us, or hot water, if White Wing has his own special blend?"
As Orli moved, Warrick reached out to snare his hand, squeezing it lightly. "And perhaps dampen a cloth. Would feel good after the hot tears, don't you think?"
Absolutely stricken at White Wing's tears, Orli nodded, moving across the room to ring the bell-pull, and then dashed into the bathroom for a damp cloth. He knew White Wing must be very frightened to be so upset; normally he held himself with great dignity, although he had shown to have a rather wicked sense of humor and Orli felt they were becoming good friends.
After his own parting from familiar people and the long journey from England, he had latched onto Sean and not wanted to let go; presumably White Wing's upset was similar because he believed he would not have his closest friend with him for the next few days.
Orli had to suppose this was a lot harder for White Wing it had been for him; at least Orli was white and had been taken in by someone of the same culture. White Wing, presumably, had never been parted from his tribe without a protector like Wing in the Grass, and felt out of his depth here in this very 'white' world, despite the accepting nature of the house and his language skills. After all, he had only been here a few days, and things were still very tenuous with his new husband, whom he barely knew at all.
Stepping back through the doorway from the bathroom, Orli handed the cloth to Warrick and went to answer the light knock on the door. Quickly and quietly he whispered to the servant to bring up hot tea and sugar. His mother had always believed in the calming and restorative properties of tea, and this was exactly the sort of moment that called for it. Carefully, he did not allow the door to open far enough for the Chinese boy to see White Wing; he knew the Indian would not be happy to have his distress on view openly.
White Wing clung to Warrick out of instinct, his quiet chanting dying down as the man took over the rocking motion. Swallowing harshly, he tried to rein in his emotions, but it was proving difficult. The thought of being completely alone at night while Far Rider and Wind were off tracking the missing man scared him far more than it should. Despite the reassurances from both of his friends here that he needn't be by himself nor actually 'share a bed' with anyone in the house, he couldn't see how one didn't exclude the other.
When Orli opened the door a crack, White Wing shifted in Warrick's lap, his heart thumping furiously. He couldn't be seen like this! Sitting upright, although not getting off Warrick, he swiped at his tears with tightened fists and gulped back more sobs. Relief swept through him that Orli hadn't allowed whoever was on the other side of the door to see him, and he sighed as the door closed again.
"I'm sorry," he offered to Warrick, face flushing as he realized he was still seated on the man's lap. A deep breath filled his senses with Warrick's clean and male scent, and White Wing felt a deep need rise in him. He knew he could not give in to it, even though he had already allowed Warrick's comforting touch, and moved as if he would get off his knee.
"Shhh, child." Warrick tucked White Wing back under his chin. "Here, hold this to your eyes." The damp cloth was pressed to the tear trails running down both sides of White Wing's face. "The tea will be here soon; let me take comfort from your warm friendship on this trying day until it arrives." Warrick held out a hand to Orli to join them on the edge of the bed.
White Wing allowed himself to be manoeuvred back under Warrick's chin and gratefully accepted the damp cloth, pressing it to his eyes to cool his over-heated face. It was easier not to be looking, then it barely mattered what his friends saw. He took a few deep breaths, steadying himself and taking in Warrick's calm and comforting strength. Was it wrong of him to think the way he had been about this man? He just didn't know... someone not of his tribe did seem odd, but if it gave him what he needed while Wind was away, would it really be so wrong?
Orli drew nearer at Warrick's invitation and sat down, holding his friend's hand and exchanging a sad look with him. He still didn't touch White Wing; Warrick seemed to be having enough of a calming effect on him for Orli to decide it wouldn't be necessary.
A knock on the door a few minutes later had Orli up again, and he moved towards it, but didn't yet open it. Looking back, he was glad he hadn't been too fast to do so, as White Wing looked up from under Warrick's chin with such a horrified look, making Orli's heart sped up for his fear. Pride was strong in the young Indian, and he quickly pulled away from Warrick to stand up; straightening with the cool and detached look White Wing used when he didn't wish for people to know what he was feeling.
Giving White Wing a reassuring look, Orli opened the door and waited while the servant wheeled in the tea trolley, and then quickly thanked him before turning back to his friends.
"Tea will make us all feel better, I think," he smiled as he moved forward to serve.
Come home now. You are needed.
The words from the too brief telegraph were etched permanently on the back of his eyes each time he closed them. After sending another fervent prayer to any god that would listen-one advantage of having an open mind when dealing with fascinating and diverse peoples while exploring the far-flung corners of the world for trade goods-Sean opened his eyes as the carriage turned into the driveway. Sean was out of the carriage before whichever cousin of Wang-zu was driving had pulled up to the stable. Hatless and coatless, and unmindful of the rain, Sean dashed up the staircase to the private entrance of his suite.
The room was empty. Panting, Sean spun this way and that, reconfirming that fact. The bed was empty, the bedding undisturbed since the servants had made it that morning. The bathroom door slammed against the wall as Sean checked that room as well.
Come home now. You are needed.
Sean believed Marton's message meant something had happened to his Orli. Surely they would have brought his Little One here if sick or, God forbid, injured? Wrenching open the door out to the hallway, Sean nearly tripped over a servant exiting Viggo's... Viggo's wife's room, Sean mentally corrected himself.
"Where is he? Orli- Orlando, where has Marton put him? Tell me!" Grabbing the servant by the sleeve, Sean's voice rose in volume as all the pent-up worry whooshed out of him.
Startled by being clutched at, the man pointed behind him at the door he had just exited.
A commotion in the hallway made Orli stop pouring the tea, and he frowned, sure he'd heard Sean's raised voice. Without so much as a glance towards Warrick and White Wing, he put down the pot, took the space between where he was and the door in two seconds flat and yanked it open.
"Oh Sean; thank goodness you're all right!" Orli threw himself into his patron's arms and clung to him, heart thudding almost painfully in his relief.
Enfolding Orli's slim frame against himself, Sean sucked in what felt like his first breath in hours, even though it hadn't been very long since he'd received the telegraph. He crushed their lips together, tongue plundering Orli's mouth, tasting fear, his Little One and no small measure of relief.
"Are you all right?" Sean pulled his head back a little and cupped Orli's face between shaking hands. "Marton's message did not say, and I feared what could have happened to you."
Within the suite, Warrick stood a little less quickly than Orli had. Exchanging a look with White Wing as they watched the lovers reunite, Warrick's lips quirked up in amusement.
"Once they are reassured that the other is fine, I should head down with Mr. Sean." Warrick stepped up to White Wing and gently caressed the black fall of the Indian's hair. "I will make sure your men come up soon, so you too can be reassured by their presence."
Orli had never been more relieved in all his life, and responded eagerly to Sean's caresses, kissing him and nodding gratefully. "I was so worried about you! I'm fine; it's not me you should be worried about! Apparently Eric is missing, and they probably need you to help in the search. Viggo and Wind have been out looking for clues and everyone's all worked up and...." He stopped for breath, face heating, then enfolded Sean in a deep hug once more, unable to talk for once.
White Wing smiled at Warrick as the man touched him. "I thank you for all your help. I know you must do other things now. I will see Far Rider and Wind in the Grass when they are ready." He took Warrick's hand from his hair and squeezed it lightly as he glanced at Orli, bound up in Pale One's arms. "You are a good friend to us both. Thank you again."
"As you are a good friend to us." Warrick squeezed White Wing's hand just as lightly. "If your men are called away for any extended time, be sure to call on Orli any time you need. It will make him feel good to be 'needed' that way. And I will check in with you as often as I can, alright?" Knowing he was needed downstairs, Warrick squeezed White Wing's hand again then took his leave.
White Wing nodded, smiling tightly as he let Warrick's hand go. He hoped they would find this 'Eric' quickly.
Warrick paused out in the hall where Orli was still pressed closely to his patron's chest. "Orli has given you the condensed... well, rapid, version, I see. Mr. Marton has messages for me to deliver, but he and Miss Marg are expecting you too." Mr. Sean nodded, but made no move to separate from Orli.
"Send him down soon, oui?" Warrick winked at Orli, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a tiny grin before loping down the back stairs.
Orli didn't feel inclined to let Sean go, but he nodded at Warrick as the man spoke, then glanced back at White Wing. There was no way the young Indian should be alone right now.
"Come in for a moment, Sean?" Orli shifted to take Sean's hand and lead him into the room. Closing the door once more, he turned back to White Wing. "I'm sure Viggo... uh... Far Rider... will be up to see you soon." He let Sean circle an arm about his waist, and stayed attached to the man's side as he spoke.
It was the first time White Wing had seen Orli with Sean Bean, and he immediately understood the connection between them. Like himself and Far Rider, there was an obvious difference in their ages, but the relationship seemed strong; the aura that surrounded both of them together was one of great power. Obviously, they were like a bound couple, though from what he understood there had been no ceremony. The love that shone in each one's eyes as they had embraced was beyond simple friendship, and White Wing was pleased for his young white friend. Not only did he have a good protector in Warrick; he clearly had a good husband in Sean Bean.
Just then, another knock on the door interrupted his reverie.
The walk back to Viggo's room-though technically it wasn't his room any more, now that he had moved upstairs-with Wind in the Grass was a quiet affair. Far Rider was deep in his thoughts, trying to figure out what the coming days would bring, and what that meant for his family; for both of his families. Far Rider could sense that this was a time of change and upheaval, and he had to do the best he could to protect those he cared about. Wind in the Grass kept his own counsel as well, but what his thoughts lingered on, Far Rider wasn't sure.
When they reached the door of the suite, Viggo only glanced in Wind's direction, before knocking on the heavy door.
Orli gave White Wing a reassuring smile as he answered the door. It could only be Viggo, so he and Sean would leave them alone to talk now. Sean needed to speak to Marton and Marg, and Orli needed to stay with him as long as he could, in case Sean was going with the search party, which seemed likely.
Standing tall, White Wing nodded back at Orli in thanks. He couldn't have stayed here alone, wondering what was happening. He was grateful for Orli and Warrick's presence, and to a lesser degree, Sean's; but now it was time to face his husband alone. Orli seemed to understand this, thankfully, and he and Sean quickly made their exit after greeting Far Rider and Wind.
Viggo was surprised when he found Sean in the room with his wife. It made sense, considering White Wing was becoming friends with Orli, but it was still strange. Yet at the same time, it soothed Viggo to see him. They had had far too little time together lately, but even that was better than uncountable months on different continents.
Despite the fact that they both had important business to attend to, when Seanie came out into the hall, Viggo wrapped his arms around him. He buried his face in his neck and inhaled deeply. The familiar scent calmed him, and he hoped that he too was offering some comfort back.
When they pulled back from their embrace, Viggo squeezed the back of Sean's neck, and kissed him lovingly. A fond smile was sent in Orli's direction, and letting Sean go, Viggo entered the room.
Wind closed the door behind the two men. White Wing was pleased to see his friend had accompanied Far Rider, and offered him a warm smile before turning unconfident eyes back to his husband. He said nothing, waiting for Far Rider to speak.
When the door closed behind him, Far Rider glanced back at Wind in the Grass, before fully turning his attentions back to his wife. White Wing was looking spectacular, as always, and Far Rider once again regretted the fact that their dinner was postponed-indefinitely, at that. White Wing provided better company than Far Rider had ever expected.
Though with the time they would be spending together when he returned, he might change his mind on the matter. Setting a hand on the warm skin of White Wing's arm, Far Rider spoke softly, "May we speak?"
Lowering his eyes, White Wing nodded, letting Far Rider continue to touch him. Warmth spread through his arm and curled around his heart, and a small smile found its way onto his lips as he looked upwards. If Far Rider could ease his discomfit with a touch, then there was definitely hope for them.
Offering Wind in the Grass a careful look, White Wing spoke in English. "You're going away, aren't you? Both of you." Although his eyes were still on his friend, the question was clearly directed to Far Rider.
"Yes." White Wing was turning out to be smarter than he had thought, and Far Rider wasn't going to try and insult that intelligence by lying to him. The shift to English, however, was useful; but Viggo did not yet feel comfortable enough to speak with Wind still in the room. "We need to find Eric. But we will return soon, and unharmed. I promise you that."
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Far Rider ran his hand through his hair. Rephrasing the question, and this time in English, Viggo asked, "May we speak alone?"
White Wing's expression clouded and his heart stuttered. Alone? Much as he had been looking forward to their time alone tonight--the dinner that would no longer be taking place quite as planned--White Wing was unsure about speaking to Far Rider without Wind present suddenly.
"Of course." He nodded, despite his fear. "Wind in the Grass, we will be a moment," he told his friend. "Far Rider wishes to speak with me alone.
"Where?" Looking past his husband, the only place that White Wing could think of was the room they passed water in, unless Far Rider wished White Wing to go with him to his tower room.
Snorting softly when he saw where White Wing glanced, Wind in the Grass stepped forward to clasp his friend's other arm. "I will step out; give you two privacy." He smiled as he squeezed White Wing. "You do not need to hold your conversation in there."
Far Rider had already informed him of the plans the whites had to search out which direction the missing men took. Wind in the Grass picked up one of his packs with the intention of checking supplies and weapons he might need while tracking. He took his leave after another touch to both of his friends.
Taking a step back, Far Rider motioned to the bed. "Would you like to sit?" He spoke in English, taking his cue from how White Wing had greeted him. He sat next to his wife, letting out a sigh from both the softness of the mattress, and his nervousness about what this conversation should bring.
"As I'm sure you've heard, the bouncer Eric has been kidnapped. A group of us are going to be leaving tomorrow morning to search for him. Wind in the Grass and I must go, to offer our skills. But..."
Words failed Far Rider then, and he shook his head before letting it drop. His hair hung in his face, and he looked at his hands. It was another long moment before he could speak again.
"I would like to ask you something. Please feel free to answer honestly, with what you really want. I..." Far Rider looked up to meet White Wing's eyes.
"The owners are having two men, the doctor and one of the clients, come to stay at the house while we're away to help maintain order."
Taking another deep breath, Far Rider continued in Lakhota, "I thought that maybe for that time, this room should be open for their use. And I was wondering if for that time, you would like to move to my room upstairs?"
Suddenly afraid that it sounded wrong, and that White Wing would be uncomfortable at the idea of what that offer could mean, Far Rider added in English, "It would only be while I'm away."
White Wing nodded as Far Rider spoke but said nothing at first, though he sat down next to his husband easily enough.
Waiting until Far Rider was finished, he met the man's eyes and nodded once more. Somehow, if he was to be alone for this time while Wind and Far Rider were absent, there would comfort in inhabiting the space Far Rider felt most happy in.
"I understand," he offered, seeing that Far Rider was hesitant to offer him more than this right now. After all, it would be much closer to truly being bound together if he were to stay in the room once Far Rider returned, and he knew his husband was far from ready to do that yet. "Just while you are gone. I would like that."
"Would you like me to help you pack your things?" Viggo was relieved that White Wing had agreed. He wasn't sure that his wife would, but it was only for the time he was gone. The only thing White Wing would lose was the actual time it took to move between the rooms.
As White Wing agreed and they began to pack his things, Far Rider wondered if he should have offered his room on a longer, possibly more permanent basis. The calm, collected tone White Wing had used when he had replied to Viggo's suggestion was enough to make him wonder if he had disappointed his wife.
It would be an awkward arrangement, if White Wing and Wind in the Grass moved in with him on a more permanent basis. A bed would have to be brought up to the room regardless, but Viggo was sure that Marg would be obliging. But if White Wing-and Wind in the Grass, as well-stayed in the room after their return, Far Rider would have to continue sleeping on the chaise, and he didn't particularly feel like listening to the two of them making love.
But that was irrelevant at the moment. All that mattered now was getting White Wing upstairs.
Once outside of the room, White Wing and Wind in the Grass's packs in his arms, Far Rider explained the plans to Wind with a simple "White Wing will be staying in the tower while we are gone." He ignored any reaction from his old lover, and began his way to his-their-room.
Once inside the studio, which was tidier than it had been in as long as Viggo could remember because of a need to make a good impression on White Wing's visits, Far Rider set down the packs and began to gather up the few canvases that had been laying about.
"If we don't get a bed up to you two tonight, we'll get one up here as soon as possible. I can get some blankets to pile up on the floor." The bed would have to be laid in the middle of the floor, which would leave no space for any artwork to be made, but that wouldn't be a problem for White Wing.
"Is there anything else I can get you before I go?"
White Wing glanced about as Far Rider tidied up the space he was indicating would be for him to sleep in. When the man spoke, White Wing exchanged an uneasy look with Wind and moved closer to his husband.
"Where will you sleep tonight? I do not wish to push you from your room so soon. Surely there is room for all three of us here."
Glancing at Wind once more, he took another step nearer to Far Rider; close enough to whisper in his ear. Lips brushing the shell of his ear, White Wing murmured lowly, "Do not go now, please? Stay?"
Moving back a couple of steps, he kept his expression as calm as he could, though his heart was beating furiously. He wasn't even sure what offer he was making, and as for how Far Rider would take it...
The two braves were off on what could amount to a dangerous mission; it was White Wing's duty to offer them both strength, though he had vowed he would not lie with Far Rider in such a way until he was sure there was hope for love between them.
Of course, Far Rider might simply believe the offer was that he and Wind would abstain from love-making so that all three could sleep together for warmth alone; it was as true as anything else.
White Wing lowered his eyes, waiting for his husband's response. Hopefully, he would understand it was for him to say what should happen next.
The brush of lips against his ear and the low, husky voice made Far Rider's body react immediately. He didn't know what White Wing intended, but Viggo wasn't sure that it was completely innocent. With White Wing closer than he'd ever been before, Far Rider could smell the fragrance of his wife's hair and it reminded him of home and of good things. It would be so easy to reach out and take White Wing in his arms...
Pulling back sharply, Viggo gave one quick shake of his head. "There is work that needs to be done. I will be up all night, preparing for tomorrow's departure. I cannot stay. I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I'll return soon. I'm sorry." Even if a treacherous part of him wanted to.
As he left the room, Viggo looked back over his shoulder and said, "I'll see that blankets are sent up."
White Wing was relieved in a way. Now he didn't need to feel guilty about wanting Wind's company tonight, and he could still hold true to the path his guides had set him. He wasn't so blind as to be unaware that Far Rider was having some kind of internal struggle over the offer, but this way was better.
Giving Wind another careful look over his shoulder, he followed far Rider past the door and pulled it after him so Wind could not see, sensing that part of Far Rider's turmoil lay in both of them being in the same place with him.
"Far Rider...?" His voice was questioning, and all the man had to do was turn back for a short moment.
Viggo almost considered continuing down the stairs. He didn't want to have to deal with White Wing, or the confusing behavior he was exhibiting. But he did owe it to his wife, so he stopped and turned to face the beautiful Winkte.
"I need to give you this before you go," White Wing murmured, and stepped forward to kiss the surprised man.
It was soft and chaste, but White Wing felt compelled to do it. He certainly couldn't let Far Rider leave without at least this, since the man had been so kind in the last short while. And he found he wanted to do it, though he didn't deepen it, or touch Far Rider in any other way.
His husband could have no idea how much better White Wing felt about being alone here by staying in Far Rider's relaxed studio than downstairs in the formal bedroom without Wind in it.
Drawing back after the brief kiss, he smiled shyly up at his husband. "Thank you for all you are doing for me. Go in peace, Far Rider."
Far Rider subtly (or as subtly as possible) steadied himself by pushing his hands up against the walls on either side of the narrow landing. The kiss had been pleasant enough, but going fresh off of White Wing's suggestion, it made Viggo want to deepen the kiss and see if he could turn the sparks that he was feeling into something more.
He nodded, making sure to avoid White Wing's eyes, before turning and fleeing down the stairs. At least now he had a few days to forget it all while he focused on the search.
White Wing would wait until Eric was returned safely home.
Word Count: 11,858
We will be back next week with more 'Eric nabbing', be sure to join us for the adventures
Back to start of Chapter 85
Up in the dormer room he shared with Naveen, Warrick changed out of the long tunic and silken trousers. He may have thought the day had had a bizarre twist to it when he'd donned the costume. Warrick shook his head; bizarre wasn't the half of it. He'd had a front row view of the events downstairs and still had no real comprehension for what had transpired.
Sitting on the bed to lace his boots, Warrick noticed a bit of lace peeking from under the overhanging bedding. One of Orli's hankies; Warrick remembered tucking it into his own pocket this morning. Ah, Mon Dieu, Orli had mentioned White Wing had a dinner 'date' with Viggo, and Orli intended to help the young Indian dress for the 'special, but nothing special' event. Knowing Viggo and the brave Wind in the Grass were out searching for clues, Warrick doubted anyone had bothered to let the poor boys know what was going on.
Deciding a short delay before reporting to Marton wouldn't hurt, Warrick made his way down the back stairs to the suite the young Indians were in. He knocked softly on the door, twisting the cap in his hands between his fingers.
Orli jumped at the knock, and exchanged a shocked look with White Wing. The tap to the door had come before either could think what they should do. Perhaps it was someone with news of the situation that had taken Viggo and Wind in the Grass away from White Wing so abruptly.
Trying to smile to reassure White Wing, Orli stepped towards the door and pulled it open.
"Warrick! Thank heaven. What's going on? Wind in the Grass and Viggo went off on some 'secret mission' or other, and White Wing is concerned someone's… well… dead. I… it couldn't be anyone from the house, could it? Do you know anything? Please tell me you do?"
Unable to help his nervous chatter, Orli barely gave Warrick time to answer as he moved into the room and shut the door behind him. "I'm worried about Sean," he blurted, his fear rising.
White Wing's heartbeat increased triplefold when the knock sounded on the door, but he held still, not wanting to appear frightened to whoever was there. Relieved that it was only Warrick, he let out a soft breath as Orli started talking and almost didn't stop. A frown creased his brow as he studied the dark man's expression, but he said nothing; not that he had much chance with Orli's chatter.
Smiling, Warrick chuckled, winked at White Wing and then rolled his eyes, biding his time until Orli took a breath.
"You have no reason to worry about Mr. Sean; actually, he should be home soon." Warrick addressed Orli's last comment first. "Eric is missing and the men are out looking for clues, so you shouldn't have anything to worry about either, White Wing," Warrick directed at the beautiful Winkte.
"I wanted to check in with you because I'll be running messages for Mr. Marton. You remember, like the other week when the city official's son made such a fool of himself and we had to discreetly arrange passage to Sacramento until the furor died down?"
Relief swept through Orli, and he turned to offer a pleased smile back at White Wing, who didn't appear much happier for all the reassurance Warrick was giving. Narrowing his eyes slightly at White Wing's expression, Orli looked back at Warrick.
"Oh yes, I remember. It won't be very nice going out in this weather though. Do be sure to wrap up well, won't you? And… you're sure no-one is actually dead?"
White Wing stood in silence, his eyes shifting from Orli to Warrick and back again as he listened to them speak. It was true that someone missing did not necessarily mean they were dead, but if the men were 'looking for clues' it could mean they were thinking to find this 'Eric', wherever he'd gone. What better trackers were there than Wind in the Grass and-if he had anywhere near the skill of Wind-Far Rider?
All White Wing could think was that there would be no dinner with his husband tonight. His heart dropped and he sat down on the edge of the bed abruptly, his eyes falling to rest on his hands on his legs. He knew Far Rider and Wind would be leaving soon, and he would be left here. He couldn't stay in this room if that were so, he decided, looking around blankly. Not alone. Perhaps he should offer to go with them.
"I'll be fine, love," Warrick reached out to coast his fingers over Orli's cheek and into the soft curls framing his face. "Cook will no doubt have an oilskin for me to wear." He traced his thumb over the lower lip Orli had a habit of nibbling, and nodded his head at White Wing, implying Orli should go to his friend. Receiving a wide-eyed, possibly panic-stricken look in return, Warrick turned to White Wing himself.
"You do not need to fret either." Voice softly modulated, Warrick stepped over and hunkered down in front of the pretty-boy. Covering one hand comfortingly, he tipped up White Wing's chin. "If your men are needed in the days to come, I know Orli would love to stay with you."
Warrick again subtly tipped his head, hoping Orli would get the hint and come over to reassure his friend.
White Wing stared sadly into Warrick's kind eyes as the man explained how he needn't be alone. Shifting carefully out of the dark man's grip on his chin, he cast a look towards Orli. He understood how easily people here moved around from bed to bed, and they probably thought White Wing would do the same since he did not share a bed with his husband, but with his closest friend.
There was no way he could share a bed with Orli.
Not wanting to offend, he said nothing.
Orli, finally getting the hints Warrick was throwing at him, moved to sit beside his sad-eyed Indian friend.
"I'll do whatever I can to make it easier, White Wing," he said. "You don't have to be alone if they need to go with the others to find Eric; I promise."
If anything, Warrick's smiled softened more When White Wing moved his chin off his palm. The small hand under his other palm didn't move, though. Picking up both of White Wing's hands from his knees, Warrick cradled them in his much larger ones.
"Neither Orli or I have been a part of this fantastical household long. Having someone else around who's not so caught up in their interwoven relationships can help make it a little less scary. Especially when whoever is closest to us has to be away." Warrick flicked a glance at Orli and included him in a tiny wink. "I know helping Orli feel un-alone during the days when he first arrived helped me feel less alone."
"Thank you," White Wing managed, a not altogether unwelcome warmth flowing through him at Warrick's touch. He allowed a small smile towards Orli, not wanting his friend to think he didn't appreciate his help either, and then focused back on Warrick.
He could so very easily share a bed with this man, he found his traitorous mind thinking. Exotic though Orli was-a white Winkte, of all things!-to be with another such as himself was as taboo as a brave lying with another, nor would he want it. White Wing's desire lay fully with men, not with women or with others like himself. And Warrick was very attractive; he had an aura of welcoming sexuality that already made White Wing feel comfortable enough that he could effortlessly share strength with him.
But he would not do it. Far Rider would not look at him in the same way if he did, and White Wing was not even sure Wind in the Grass would. It would not be for the same reasons as he lay with those he was bound to by duty and love, and would be frowned upon by his People.
Besides, he had never been with someone not of his tribe, no matter what he had said to Far Rider about selling himself the way the boys here did. No matter how readily he could imagine his body entwined with Warrick's, nor how easily his senses were already aroused by the man's proximity when they definitely shouldn't be, it was not the right thing to do.
"I do not understand all the ways of this place, and there are things you do not know about my People…" White Wing hesitated, unsure how to put any of it. "I cannot be with just anyone, and for me to…" He glanced at Orli again as he trailed off, pain in his eyes. He had no wish to hurt either of these two who had been the most kind to him and Wind, but he could see no way other than to be honest. He tried again. "A Winkte has duties to his or her tribe; things that are honored and which give magical protection to the brave chosen by the Winkte. The brave in turn gives strength and power back to the Winkte."
Again he paused, unsure the two understood his meaning. "I cannot… share a bed with either of you." A blush suffused his features as he dropped his eyes, studying his soft and pale-seeming hands in Warrick's darker ones.
Orli blinked several times, exchanging a confused look with Warrick as White Wing began, and then understanding dawned. Or at least Orli thought it did, although 'share a bed' presumably meant more than just 'sleep in the same space' or White Wing wouldn't look so troubled by his own words. Unless it meant that the Indian would not touch someone who was not of his tribe, not even in such an innocent way as to literally sleep in the same bed with them.
"I'm sorry, White Wing; I'm not sure I understand," he said softly, a heat rising in his own face. "If you mean… uh… sex; that's okay. We would never expect that. But just to sleep? That's not allowed either?"
White Wing's heart was racing by now and he didn't know how to answer Orli. He shook his head, tightening his grip on Warrick's comforting hands. "I have never… I… I need… where is Wind in the Grass?"
To his shock and dismay, tears began to fall from his eyes, splashing harshly on Warrick's hands. Words in Lahkota flowed from his lips in his distress, and although he didn't let go of Warrick, he began to rock as he started to call his spirit guide, the soft chant lilting and rhythmic.
"Oh mon chaton." Without thinking, Warrick had White Wing's slim frame cradled on his lap. He breathed more endearments and nonsensical words as he rocked the crying child.
"We would never presume to make you 'share a bed' with either of us, or anyone in the household." Tucking White Wing under his chin, Warrick whisked away a fat tear with his thumb.
"Mi niñito." He looked up at Orli who was wringing his hands together, his face screwed into an expression of abject misery. "Why don't you ring for some tea for us, or hot water, if White Wing has his own special blend?"
As Orli moved, Warrick reached out to snare his hand, squeezing it lightly. "And perhaps dampen a cloth. Would feel good after the hot tears, don't you think?"
Absolutely stricken at White Wing's tears, Orli nodded, moving across the room to ring the bell-pull, and then dashed into the bathroom for a damp cloth. He knew White Wing must be very frightened to be so upset; normally he held himself with great dignity, although he had shown to have a rather wicked sense of humor and Orli felt they were becoming good friends.
After his own parting from familiar people and the long journey from England, he had latched onto Sean and not wanted to let go; presumably White Wing's upset was similar because he believed he would not have his closest friend with him for the next few days.
Orli had to suppose this was a lot harder for White Wing it had been for him; at least Orli was white and had been taken in by someone of the same culture. White Wing, presumably, had never been parted from his tribe without a protector like Wing in the Grass, and felt out of his depth here in this very 'white' world, despite the accepting nature of the house and his language skills. After all, he had only been here a few days, and things were still very tenuous with his new husband, whom he barely knew at all.
Stepping back through the doorway from the bathroom, Orli handed the cloth to Warrick and went to answer the light knock on the door. Quickly and quietly he whispered to the servant to bring up hot tea and sugar. His mother had always believed in the calming and restorative properties of tea, and this was exactly the sort of moment that called for it. Carefully, he did not allow the door to open far enough for the Chinese boy to see White Wing; he knew the Indian would not be happy to have his distress on view openly.
White Wing clung to Warrick out of instinct, his quiet chanting dying down as the man took over the rocking motion. Swallowing harshly, he tried to rein in his emotions, but it was proving difficult. The thought of being completely alone at night while Far Rider and Wind were off tracking the missing man scared him far more than it should. Despite the reassurances from both of his friends here that he needn't be by himself nor actually 'share a bed' with anyone in the house, he couldn't see how one didn't exclude the other.
When Orli opened the door a crack, White Wing shifted in Warrick's lap, his heart thumping furiously. He couldn't be seen like this! Sitting upright, although not getting off Warrick, he swiped at his tears with tightened fists and gulped back more sobs. Relief swept through him that Orli hadn't allowed whoever was on the other side of the door to see him, and he sighed as the door closed again.
"I'm sorry," he offered to Warrick, face flushing as he realized he was still seated on the man's lap. A deep breath filled his senses with Warrick's clean and male scent, and White Wing felt a deep need rise in him. He knew he could not give in to it, even though he had already allowed Warrick's comforting touch, and moved as if he would get off his knee.
"Shhh, child." Warrick tucked White Wing back under his chin. "Here, hold this to your eyes." The damp cloth was pressed to the tear trails running down both sides of White Wing's face. "The tea will be here soon; let me take comfort from your warm friendship on this trying day until it arrives." Warrick held out a hand to Orli to join them on the edge of the bed.
White Wing allowed himself to be manoeuvred back under Warrick's chin and gratefully accepted the damp cloth, pressing it to his eyes to cool his over-heated face. It was easier not to be looking, then it barely mattered what his friends saw. He took a few deep breaths, steadying himself and taking in Warrick's calm and comforting strength. Was it wrong of him to think the way he had been about this man? He just didn't know... someone not of his tribe did seem odd, but if it gave him what he needed while Wind was away, would it really be so wrong?
Orli drew nearer at Warrick's invitation and sat down, holding his friend's hand and exchanging a sad look with him. He still didn't touch White Wing; Warrick seemed to be having enough of a calming effect on him for Orli to decide it wouldn't be necessary.
A knock on the door a few minutes later had Orli up again, and he moved towards it, but didn't yet open it. Looking back, he was glad he hadn't been too fast to do so, as White Wing looked up from under Warrick's chin with such a horrified look, making Orli's heart sped up for his fear. Pride was strong in the young Indian, and he quickly pulled away from Warrick to stand up; straightening with the cool and detached look White Wing used when he didn't wish for people to know what he was feeling.
Giving White Wing a reassuring look, Orli opened the door and waited while the servant wheeled in the tea trolley, and then quickly thanked him before turning back to his friends.
"Tea will make us all feel better, I think," he smiled as he moved forward to serve.
Come home now. You are needed.
The words from the too brief telegraph were etched permanently on the back of his eyes each time he closed them. After sending another fervent prayer to any god that would listen-one advantage of having an open mind when dealing with fascinating and diverse peoples while exploring the far-flung corners of the world for trade goods-Sean opened his eyes as the carriage turned into the driveway. Sean was out of the carriage before whichever cousin of Wang-zu was driving had pulled up to the stable. Hatless and coatless, and unmindful of the rain, Sean dashed up the staircase to the private entrance of his suite.
The room was empty. Panting, Sean spun this way and that, reconfirming that fact. The bed was empty, the bedding undisturbed since the servants had made it that morning. The bathroom door slammed against the wall as Sean checked that room as well.
Come home now. You are needed.
Sean believed Marton's message meant something had happened to his Orli. Surely they would have brought his Little One here if sick or, God forbid, injured? Wrenching open the door out to the hallway, Sean nearly tripped over a servant exiting Viggo's... Viggo's wife's room, Sean mentally corrected himself.
"Where is he? Orli- Orlando, where has Marton put him? Tell me!" Grabbing the servant by the sleeve, Sean's voice rose in volume as all the pent-up worry whooshed out of him.
Startled by being clutched at, the man pointed behind him at the door he had just exited.
A commotion in the hallway made Orli stop pouring the tea, and he frowned, sure he'd heard Sean's raised voice. Without so much as a glance towards Warrick and White Wing, he put down the pot, took the space between where he was and the door in two seconds flat and yanked it open.
"Oh Sean; thank goodness you're all right!" Orli threw himself into his patron's arms and clung to him, heart thudding almost painfully in his relief.
Enfolding Orli's slim frame against himself, Sean sucked in what felt like his first breath in hours, even though it hadn't been very long since he'd received the telegraph. He crushed their lips together, tongue plundering Orli's mouth, tasting fear, his Little One and no small measure of relief.
"Are you all right?" Sean pulled his head back a little and cupped Orli's face between shaking hands. "Marton's message did not say, and I feared what could have happened to you."
Within the suite, Warrick stood a little less quickly than Orli had. Exchanging a look with White Wing as they watched the lovers reunite, Warrick's lips quirked up in amusement.
"Once they are reassured that the other is fine, I should head down with Mr. Sean." Warrick stepped up to White Wing and gently caressed the black fall of the Indian's hair. "I will make sure your men come up soon, so you too can be reassured by their presence."
Orli had never been more relieved in all his life, and responded eagerly to Sean's caresses, kissing him and nodding gratefully. "I was so worried about you! I'm fine; it's not me you should be worried about! Apparently Eric is missing, and they probably need you to help in the search. Viggo and Wind have been out looking for clues and everyone's all worked up and...." He stopped for breath, face heating, then enfolded Sean in a deep hug once more, unable to talk for once.
White Wing smiled at Warrick as the man touched him. "I thank you for all your help. I know you must do other things now. I will see Far Rider and Wind in the Grass when they are ready." He took Warrick's hand from his hair and squeezed it lightly as he glanced at Orli, bound up in Pale One's arms. "You are a good friend to us both. Thank you again."
"As you are a good friend to us." Warrick squeezed White Wing's hand just as lightly. "If your men are called away for any extended time, be sure to call on Orli any time you need. It will make him feel good to be 'needed' that way. And I will check in with you as often as I can, alright?" Knowing he was needed downstairs, Warrick squeezed White Wing's hand again then took his leave.
White Wing nodded, smiling tightly as he let Warrick's hand go. He hoped they would find this 'Eric' quickly.
Warrick paused out in the hall where Orli was still pressed closely to his patron's chest. "Orli has given you the condensed... well, rapid, version, I see. Mr. Marton has messages for me to deliver, but he and Miss Marg are expecting you too." Mr. Sean nodded, but made no move to separate from Orli.
"Send him down soon, oui?" Warrick winked at Orli, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a tiny grin before loping down the back stairs.
Orli didn't feel inclined to let Sean go, but he nodded at Warrick as the man spoke, then glanced back at White Wing. There was no way the young Indian should be alone right now.
"Come in for a moment, Sean?" Orli shifted to take Sean's hand and lead him into the room. Closing the door once more, he turned back to White Wing. "I'm sure Viggo... uh... Far Rider... will be up to see you soon." He let Sean circle an arm about his waist, and stayed attached to the man's side as he spoke.
It was the first time White Wing had seen Orli with Sean Bean, and he immediately understood the connection between them. Like himself and Far Rider, there was an obvious difference in their ages, but the relationship seemed strong; the aura that surrounded both of them together was one of great power. Obviously, they were like a bound couple, though from what he understood there had been no ceremony. The love that shone in each one's eyes as they had embraced was beyond simple friendship, and White Wing was pleased for his young white friend. Not only did he have a good protector in Warrick; he clearly had a good husband in Sean Bean.
Just then, another knock on the door interrupted his reverie.
The walk back to Viggo's room-though technically it wasn't his room any more, now that he had moved upstairs-with Wind in the Grass was a quiet affair. Far Rider was deep in his thoughts, trying to figure out what the coming days would bring, and what that meant for his family; for both of his families. Far Rider could sense that this was a time of change and upheaval, and he had to do the best he could to protect those he cared about. Wind in the Grass kept his own counsel as well, but what his thoughts lingered on, Far Rider wasn't sure.
When they reached the door of the suite, Viggo only glanced in Wind's direction, before knocking on the heavy door.
Orli gave White Wing a reassuring smile as he answered the door. It could only be Viggo, so he and Sean would leave them alone to talk now. Sean needed to speak to Marton and Marg, and Orli needed to stay with him as long as he could, in case Sean was going with the search party, which seemed likely.
Standing tall, White Wing nodded back at Orli in thanks. He couldn't have stayed here alone, wondering what was happening. He was grateful for Orli and Warrick's presence, and to a lesser degree, Sean's; but now it was time to face his husband alone. Orli seemed to understand this, thankfully, and he and Sean quickly made their exit after greeting Far Rider and Wind.
Viggo was surprised when he found Sean in the room with his wife. It made sense, considering White Wing was becoming friends with Orli, but it was still strange. Yet at the same time, it soothed Viggo to see him. They had had far too little time together lately, but even that was better than uncountable months on different continents.
Despite the fact that they both had important business to attend to, when Seanie came out into the hall, Viggo wrapped his arms around him. He buried his face in his neck and inhaled deeply. The familiar scent calmed him, and he hoped that he too was offering some comfort back.
When they pulled back from their embrace, Viggo squeezed the back of Sean's neck, and kissed him lovingly. A fond smile was sent in Orli's direction, and letting Sean go, Viggo entered the room.
Wind closed the door behind the two men. White Wing was pleased to see his friend had accompanied Far Rider, and offered him a warm smile before turning unconfident eyes back to his husband. He said nothing, waiting for Far Rider to speak.
When the door closed behind him, Far Rider glanced back at Wind in the Grass, before fully turning his attentions back to his wife. White Wing was looking spectacular, as always, and Far Rider once again regretted the fact that their dinner was postponed-indefinitely, at that. White Wing provided better company than Far Rider had ever expected.
Though with the time they would be spending together when he returned, he might change his mind on the matter. Setting a hand on the warm skin of White Wing's arm, Far Rider spoke softly, "May we speak?"
Lowering his eyes, White Wing nodded, letting Far Rider continue to touch him. Warmth spread through his arm and curled around his heart, and a small smile found its way onto his lips as he looked upwards. If Far Rider could ease his discomfit with a touch, then there was definitely hope for them.
Offering Wind in the Grass a careful look, White Wing spoke in English. "You're going away, aren't you? Both of you." Although his eyes were still on his friend, the question was clearly directed to Far Rider.
"Yes." White Wing was turning out to be smarter than he had thought, and Far Rider wasn't going to try and insult that intelligence by lying to him. The shift to English, however, was useful; but Viggo did not yet feel comfortable enough to speak with Wind still in the room. "We need to find Eric. But we will return soon, and unharmed. I promise you that."
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Far Rider ran his hand through his hair. Rephrasing the question, and this time in English, Viggo asked, "May we speak alone?"
White Wing's expression clouded and his heart stuttered. Alone? Much as he had been looking forward to their time alone tonight--the dinner that would no longer be taking place quite as planned--White Wing was unsure about speaking to Far Rider without Wind present suddenly.
"Of course." He nodded, despite his fear. "Wind in the Grass, we will be a moment," he told his friend. "Far Rider wishes to speak with me alone.
"Where?" Looking past his husband, the only place that White Wing could think of was the room they passed water in, unless Far Rider wished White Wing to go with him to his tower room.
Snorting softly when he saw where White Wing glanced, Wind in the Grass stepped forward to clasp his friend's other arm. "I will step out; give you two privacy." He smiled as he squeezed White Wing. "You do not need to hold your conversation in there."
Far Rider had already informed him of the plans the whites had to search out which direction the missing men took. Wind in the Grass picked up one of his packs with the intention of checking supplies and weapons he might need while tracking. He took his leave after another touch to both of his friends.
Taking a step back, Far Rider motioned to the bed. "Would you like to sit?" He spoke in English, taking his cue from how White Wing had greeted him. He sat next to his wife, letting out a sigh from both the softness of the mattress, and his nervousness about what this conversation should bring.
"As I'm sure you've heard, the bouncer Eric has been kidnapped. A group of us are going to be leaving tomorrow morning to search for him. Wind in the Grass and I must go, to offer our skills. But..."
Words failed Far Rider then, and he shook his head before letting it drop. His hair hung in his face, and he looked at his hands. It was another long moment before he could speak again.
"I would like to ask you something. Please feel free to answer honestly, with what you really want. I..." Far Rider looked up to meet White Wing's eyes.
"The owners are having two men, the doctor and one of the clients, come to stay at the house while we're away to help maintain order."
Taking another deep breath, Far Rider continued in Lakhota, "I thought that maybe for that time, this room should be open for their use. And I was wondering if for that time, you would like to move to my room upstairs?"
Suddenly afraid that it sounded wrong, and that White Wing would be uncomfortable at the idea of what that offer could mean, Far Rider added in English, "It would only be while I'm away."
White Wing nodded as Far Rider spoke but said nothing at first, though he sat down next to his husband easily enough.
Waiting until Far Rider was finished, he met the man's eyes and nodded once more. Somehow, if he was to be alone for this time while Wind and Far Rider were absent, there would comfort in inhabiting the space Far Rider felt most happy in.
"I understand," he offered, seeing that Far Rider was hesitant to offer him more than this right now. After all, it would be much closer to truly being bound together if he were to stay in the room once Far Rider returned, and he knew his husband was far from ready to do that yet. "Just while you are gone. I would like that."
"Would you like me to help you pack your things?" Viggo was relieved that White Wing had agreed. He wasn't sure that his wife would, but it was only for the time he was gone. The only thing White Wing would lose was the actual time it took to move between the rooms.
As White Wing agreed and they began to pack his things, Far Rider wondered if he should have offered his room on a longer, possibly more permanent basis. The calm, collected tone White Wing had used when he had replied to Viggo's suggestion was enough to make him wonder if he had disappointed his wife.
It would be an awkward arrangement, if White Wing and Wind in the Grass moved in with him on a more permanent basis. A bed would have to be brought up to the room regardless, but Viggo was sure that Marg would be obliging. But if White Wing-and Wind in the Grass, as well-stayed in the room after their return, Far Rider would have to continue sleeping on the chaise, and he didn't particularly feel like listening to the two of them making love.
But that was irrelevant at the moment. All that mattered now was getting White Wing upstairs.
Once outside of the room, White Wing and Wind in the Grass's packs in his arms, Far Rider explained the plans to Wind with a simple "White Wing will be staying in the tower while we are gone." He ignored any reaction from his old lover, and began his way to his-their-room.
Once inside the studio, which was tidier than it had been in as long as Viggo could remember because of a need to make a good impression on White Wing's visits, Far Rider set down the packs and began to gather up the few canvases that had been laying about.
"If we don't get a bed up to you two tonight, we'll get one up here as soon as possible. I can get some blankets to pile up on the floor." The bed would have to be laid in the middle of the floor, which would leave no space for any artwork to be made, but that wouldn't be a problem for White Wing.
"Is there anything else I can get you before I go?"
White Wing glanced about as Far Rider tidied up the space he was indicating would be for him to sleep in. When the man spoke, White Wing exchanged an uneasy look with Wind and moved closer to his husband.
"Where will you sleep tonight? I do not wish to push you from your room so soon. Surely there is room for all three of us here."
Glancing at Wind once more, he took another step nearer to Far Rider; close enough to whisper in his ear. Lips brushing the shell of his ear, White Wing murmured lowly, "Do not go now, please? Stay?"
Moving back a couple of steps, he kept his expression as calm as he could, though his heart was beating furiously. He wasn't even sure what offer he was making, and as for how Far Rider would take it...
The two braves were off on what could amount to a dangerous mission; it was White Wing's duty to offer them both strength, though he had vowed he would not lie with Far Rider in such a way until he was sure there was hope for love between them.
Of course, Far Rider might simply believe the offer was that he and Wind would abstain from love-making so that all three could sleep together for warmth alone; it was as true as anything else.
White Wing lowered his eyes, waiting for his husband's response. Hopefully, he would understand it was for him to say what should happen next.
The brush of lips against his ear and the low, husky voice made Far Rider's body react immediately. He didn't know what White Wing intended, but Viggo wasn't sure that it was completely innocent. With White Wing closer than he'd ever been before, Far Rider could smell the fragrance of his wife's hair and it reminded him of home and of good things. It would be so easy to reach out and take White Wing in his arms...
Pulling back sharply, Viggo gave one quick shake of his head. "There is work that needs to be done. I will be up all night, preparing for tomorrow's departure. I cannot stay. I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I'll return soon. I'm sorry." Even if a treacherous part of him wanted to.
As he left the room, Viggo looked back over his shoulder and said, "I'll see that blankets are sent up."
White Wing was relieved in a way. Now he didn't need to feel guilty about wanting Wind's company tonight, and he could still hold true to the path his guides had set him. He wasn't so blind as to be unaware that Far Rider was having some kind of internal struggle over the offer, but this way was better.
Giving Wind another careful look over his shoulder, he followed far Rider past the door and pulled it after him so Wind could not see, sensing that part of Far Rider's turmoil lay in both of them being in the same place with him.
"Far Rider...?" His voice was questioning, and all the man had to do was turn back for a short moment.
Viggo almost considered continuing down the stairs. He didn't want to have to deal with White Wing, or the confusing behavior he was exhibiting. But he did owe it to his wife, so he stopped and turned to face the beautiful Winkte.
"I need to give you this before you go," White Wing murmured, and stepped forward to kiss the surprised man.
It was soft and chaste, but White Wing felt compelled to do it. He certainly couldn't let Far Rider leave without at least this, since the man had been so kind in the last short while. And he found he wanted to do it, though he didn't deepen it, or touch Far Rider in any other way.
His husband could have no idea how much better White Wing felt about being alone here by staying in Far Rider's relaxed studio than downstairs in the formal bedroom without Wind in it.
Drawing back after the brief kiss, he smiled shyly up at his husband. "Thank you for all you are doing for me. Go in peace, Far Rider."
Far Rider subtly (or as subtly as possible) steadied himself by pushing his hands up against the walls on either side of the narrow landing. The kiss had been pleasant enough, but going fresh off of White Wing's suggestion, it made Viggo want to deepen the kiss and see if he could turn the sparks that he was feeling into something more.
He nodded, making sure to avoid White Wing's eyes, before turning and fleeing down the stairs. At least now he had a few days to forget it all while he focused on the search.
White Wing would wait until Eric was returned safely home.
Word Count: 11,858
We will be back next week with more 'Eric nabbing', be sure to join us for the adventures