Malon, Vel, and Ria were waiting by the dinghy, looking beautiful with their hair and clothing dancing in the rolling sea breeze. He almost tripped over an uneven deck plank as he ran up to them, still smiling like a fool.
“Took you long enough,” said Vel, a touch irritated.
“I saw Austine,” he said. “He’s here. He… owns an inn.”
“Have you been drinking, husband?” asked Ria.
“Yes, but not that much,” he said. “Come on. We’re staying among friends tonight.”
He led them back up the street and into The Eagle’s Roost. Introductions were made between Janine and his family, and of course, to the younger Damon.
“Did you make that sword yourself?” Malon asked him, crouching to address the child on his level.
“No,” said little Damon. “My pa made it for me.”
“That was nice of him,” she replied. “I’ve heard he has good taste in swords.”
“How does it feel to have someone else’s child running around with your name?” Vel whispered to Damon.
“It’s long overdue,” he said. “It’s about time someone recognized my greatness.”
She rolled her eyes at him and Damon pulled her into a swaying hug. Austine and Janine were handling a few other patrons who’d arrived, and there wasn’t much else for Damon and the others to do beyond settle down at a table and act like the guests they were.
“To me, it still feels like the last time I saw Austine wasn’t all that long ago,” said Damon. “He’s lived long enough in that space to remold himself as a man. A wife, singular. Two kids. An inn, for Rovahn’s sake!”
He shook his head, trying to express a feeling while still in the process of understanding it, himself. Malon set her hand on his shoulder and smiled lovingly at him.
“You could have this for yourself just as easily, solas,” she said. She cleared her throat, smile flattening into a more serious expression. “That is, if you put more effort into finding yourself an appropriate partner.”
Vel and Ria both bristled at the secondhand rebuke. Austine was rounding the common room with a pitcher and a tray full of mugs, and Damon hurriedly waved him over.
“We’ll have a round of ale, and whatever is in the cards for dinner,” he said.
“Chicken and barley stew,” said Austine. “I’ll bring it your way as soon as it’s done. Things should slow down a bit once everyone is served.”
“Good,” said Damon. “We have to talk some more once they do.”
Austine gave a serious nod, setting the drinks down on the table and disappearing back into the kitchen.
“He’s coming with us,” said Damon.
“What?” snapped Vel.
“Why?” asked Ria.
“Solas…” said Malon, with a sigh.
“He’s a talented swordsman,” said Damon. “He has experience with magic, as a former crest sorcerer. Hell, he’s probably more familiar with this region of the ocean than any of us are. More importantly… he’s my best friend.”
“I won’t stop you from issuing him the invitation, but if there was ever a man who would turn his back to the call of adventure, it’s that one,” said Malon. “You said it yourself. He’s changed almost beyond recognition.”
Damon poured himself an ale from the pitcher and tapped his finger against the handle of the mug. “I’m asking him. He at least deserves the choice. It’s not just about whether he’ll say yes.”
“You truly have missed him, no?” said Ria.
“More than I ever realized.”
The stew was served in short order, paired with thick chunks of fresh bread that left Damon nostalgic for The Rosewood Inn . He slipped away from the others to eat with Austine at the counter, helping serve drinks and handle odd jobs in between bites.
True to his word, he talked up their quest to find the Ocean Klykia, explaining why it was necessary, how it would change the world for the better. Austine listened with a good-natured smile, humoring him as best friends so often do.
“I wish I could go with you,” said Austine. “But I already got my big wish in life.”
“I suppose you did,” said Damon. “You have responsibilities here. I can see that, I’m just saying…”
“I know what you’re saying, you bastard.” Austine grinned and punched him in the arm. “I hate you a little for tempting me with the offer. Just a little. I have well and truly settled down, Damon. Every man has to eventually, and let me tell you, that fact is more a blessing than a curse.”
Damon’s eyes shifted back toward his table on the other side of the room. Ria was sitting, expression cold and irritated. Malon was listening to Vel, who seemed to be doing her best to bridge the lingering gap between the two other women.
Just what would settling down look like for him, he wondered? Malon’s earlier words about finding an appropriate partner hadn’t simply been a passing comment. She’d been steadfast in that from the start.
“You know where to find me, at least,” said Austine, shaking his shoulder. “Just because I can’t pick up my sword and follow you on your journey doesn’t mean you have to be a stranger. Do you hear me, Damon?”
“I hear you,” he said. “Pour me another ale, would you?”
***
Damon let himself go, drinking more than what was probably reasonable for the second time within the span of a week. He found himself being helped to bed by Malon and Ria at the end of the night.
“You shouldn’t make a habit of this, solas,” said Malon.
“It is not behavior fit for a man of your strength,” said Ria.
They glanced at each other, as though surprised and a little annoyed to find that they were in agreement. Damon let out a sigh as he fell forward onto the bed, turning over and spreading his arms out. Malon pulled his boots off, while Ria undid his sword belt.
“Well then,” said Malon. “I suppose one of us should stay with him to… ensure that he falls to sleep comfortably. I don’t mind bearing the responsibility, as his aesta.”
Ria folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “You are his aesta, yes. I am his wife .”
Malon cleared her throat. “I understand that the two of you are close, seta, but—”
“But nothing!” snapped Ria. “Do not think I missed your comment earlier. An appropriate partner? You speak of a man who already has such a person… such people, in his life.”
“Does he?” Malon’s tone was even, but simmering, all the same. “Will you stay with him then, seta, once we return from this journey? If he decided to, say, start an inn, or live in one place, would you settle down without complaint? Or would you do as you’ve always done and roam as though every action of yours was free from personal consequence?”
“You betrayed him!” hissed Ria. “I am his wife !”
“Don’t…” muttered Damon. “Enough. Please… stop this.”
He let out a tired breath. Malon reached out to caress his hair. She nodded thoughtfully and stepped back.
“I said more than I should have,” she admitted. “You’re right, of course, seta. You are his wife, and I am his aesta. We all must be what we are.”
She turned and left the room, and Damon couldn’t deny that her words stirred a deep sadness within him. Neither of them was wrong. He’d managed to pull them all along with him on this journey, but once it was over, they would go back to who they were, how they’d been. Malon, as his aesta. Ria, with her duty to her people. Vel, with… skirts.
“Husband,” said Ria. “I did not mean for that to become such a petty argument. She just… She does not understand what I feel for you. Or if she does understand it, she refuses to recognize it as legitimate.”
Ria walked to the door, slipping the bar securely into place. By the dim light of the room’s lantern, he watched her undress, tunic slipping down to reveal her firm, tanned breasts. Hips wiggling to take off her hip hugging, skintight leggings.
“Nothing is ever as simple as it seems,” he said. “I don’t really want to settle down yet, I hope you know.”
“If you did, and you wanted me to be there with you, I would,” she whispered. “I could. For you, I am willing. The way Malon refuses to see that… is almost a form of sabotage in itself.”
“Ria…” he said, shaking his head. “Let it go. She’s not under Lascivious’s control.”
“We do not know that for certain.”
“She’s simply been acting like our aesta!” he said. “Is that so wrong?”
“Damon, you must not let your guard down.”
“I can, and I will,” he said. “I’m grateful for her presence. For my aesta’s presence. Is that so wrong? I don’t want anyone to ruin that for me just as much as I don’t want anyone to ruin… this. ”
He reached up and began tracing the matridai on her face. Her eyes fluttered as his fingers softly touched her, and he remembered how sensitive she’d been on that day so long ago when he’d first drawn the marks on her with charcoal.
“You are not wrong, husband,” she whispered.
She crawled across the bed like a stalking cat, undoing the draw cord of his trousers and gently pulling them down. The way she took them off, slow and deliberate, was as arousing as watching her undress had been. He was halfway hard by the time she’d finished, despite how drunk he was.
She started with her mouth, licking his cock with long, teasing motions, until he was reaching to guide her head down for more. Ria obliged him, working her lips and tongue over his tool, letting it probe as deep as it would go.
They shifted position, moving fast. Damon was still good and drunk and couldn’t keep himself from caressing her greedily. He pulled her up to him, feeling the sensation stirring his greater need.
“Ria,” he whispered.
She grabbed his arm as he thrust into her, holding as tight as though they were sparring and she’d found a particularly advantageous grip. Damon levered himself forward, taking her with long, powerful motions.
She made such wonderful noises. Ria let him hear the full range, starting from the proud, almost restrained way she’d keep quiet at first, building up to the kinds of effortful, athletic gasps and moans that had always suited her in battle as well as bed.
“Mmm…” she hummed. “Ah!”
“Ria!”
They kissed, bodies still moving, Ria meeting him midway through each accelerating pump almost as though she was trying to buck him out from between her legs. Damon hugged her tight as they held the pace, feeling her lose control first. She came within his arms, and he held her gently as he continued, too lustful to do anything but dog after his own finish.
It was good.