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It has been mere hours, surely, since Constantin was carried in Alexander’s arms back to the campsite, back to the caravan, back home. During the battle, Constantin was unmoving and staring with dead eyes. He had thought the worst. He fought harder because of it. His magic seared the very air. No words could change the fury roaring in his ears. There was a sick part of him that greeted Vinbarr’s transformation into a Guardian; for Alexander wouldn’t have to question if it was self defense or not. Vinbarr had hurt Constantin and killed his own people. Alexander saw only red.
Constantin’s groan snaps him back to reality. Alexander pushes down the horrors of the night immediately. Sprawled out, now in fresh clothes, over the embroidered sheets on his bed, Constantin is assailed by New Serene’s best healers. An esteemed man in nightwear leans over him and moves his chin up and down. An older woman picks up his leg and inspects the strange root-like veins sprouting along it. A young man, no doubt a protege to one of these menders, stands as far away as he can get, risking knocking over an oil lamp. He stares wide-eyed at Constantin’s new features.
Alexander stands at the foot of Constantin’s bed, concerned. Every time he spaces out and remembers the weight of his exhaustion, he snaps back due to Constantin’s loud protests. He shrieks from being manhandled and gawked at. He’s already tried swatting a man’s hand away and pouting at Alexander to do something. Truly, it breaks his heart to have his cousin so close after so many days worrying and not being able to see his wonderful smile. He knows his cousin despises being prodded by doctors.
He puts a gentle hand on Constantin’s foot to stop him from kicking a healer in the face. Again. “Constantin,” he says. Instantly, his eyes lock onto Alexander’s. He gives a reassuring smile. “Please calm down. Deep breaths.”
Constantin gives the nearest healer an annoyed look for pinching his ear. “I told you, I’m fine! A little food in my stomach did the trick, dear cousin. Hey—“ A rowdy man tries yanking off the branch sprouting from his head. “That’s attached! I’m one with the earth now, didn’t you hear?”
He runs a reassuring hand up his calf. Constantin looks back at him, drawn in. Good. He means to keep him occupied. “Just another minute, Constantin. I want to make sure you’re not feeling any pain.”
Constantin glares at the healer that tries forcing eyedrops into his now-murky eyes. He pushes her away. He huffs, “I’m not! Now, would you tell these fine folks to— ouch!”
Alexander winces. A servant bringing hot soup shrieks when he sees Constantin’s appearance, the platter tumbling from his hands. Soup flies through the air like bullets and hits Constantin and the doctors, steam billowing around them. The blunt of it smashes into Constantin’s chest and oozes over the bedspread.
“Hot! Very hot!” Constantin says.
A vein pops on his forehead. Alexander hollers, “Out. Everyone out. I will clean up my cousin.” He gives the servant an icy stare. “No, don’t send anybody else.” The servant gapes, still staring at Constantin. “We will continue this tomorrow. I ask you to bring tools that are gentler.” The healers flinch. “Dismissed.”
Everyone shuffles out. Some moan at the minor burns on their neck and chest. The young protege makes sure to give Constantin a wide berth as he leaves. Then, already in motion, Alexander rushes to Constantin’s side and grabs a towel.
“Ah, my hero again,” Constantin says, annoyance still laced in his tone. He gives one last heated glare to the door as it slams shut.
Finally, they’re alone. His ears still ring from the screams of Vinbarr and his mated one, and the erratic beat of his own heart when he almost lost Constantin to the mad king’s delusions. Pale moonlight reflects on Constantin’s murky eyes, and only an oil lamp lights the room, flickering in variable patterns. Alexander ruffles his hair as he rubs a soft towel along his shirt. The room begins to smell of salt and oyster.
“Thank you,” he grins cheekily. He reaches up to caress Alexander’s cheek.
He smiles back, just as tender. He’s missed him terribly. It’s been weeks since saying the words that will haunt him till his dying breath: Constantin, is that your blood? And it has been days since returning to New Serene and hearing about Castach’s illusions of taking a sick man on a far-off journey. He shudders at the simple, warm touch that reminds him Constantin is here and alive. He leans into the touch.
“Sorry for all that,” Alexander says. “You look very… different.”
Constantin laughs when Alexander pulls his shirt up and wipes his stomach. He’s always been ticklish. It’s music to his ears, and Alexander is reminded that this is Constantin. His Constantin. No matter how he looks or what he does, he will always have a place in Alexander’s heart.
“Yes, well, I understand your worries,” he huffs. “But those old bores didn’t understand a thing I said, couldn’t you tell? I bet they don’t even know what an on ol menawi is!”
He chuckles, then bends down and kisses Constantin’s forehead. He rises slightly to meet his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just so glad you’re back.”
Constantin wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him closer. At this angle, he sees all of his new features in greater detail. Branches that look like horns sprouting from his head. Veins spidering up his skin, and a greenish hue overtaking him. Dark, clouded eyes that still show his mischievousness and sprightly nature. Alexander knows that he’s still a man of passion and adventure; not even near-death could take that away from his cousin.
“I knew you’d find me,” Constantin says softly. “I always knew.” He reaches up to brush their lips together. Electricity flies through Alexander. Constantin murmurs against his lips, “I missed you too, dear cousin.”