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She hoped Oliver did that for him. Knew that he must, but thought it might be counterbalanced by Oliver’s willingness to climb aboard a dragon’s back and go flying off into danger.

In a gentle voice, she said, “I don’t think trying is ever futile, no matter the odds.”

His gaze slid over sideways, mouth quirking in a rueful grin. “Does that run in the family, too?”

Her cheeks warmed, but before she could reply, the door opened – no knock this time. Rune.

He swept in smelling of snow and the smoke off the peat braziers in the yard, braids unraveling – she still wasn’t very good at getting them tight enough, but he insisted she be the one to do his plaits and set his beads each morning, humming and basking like a happy cat beneath her touch while she made her sad attempts – face pink from the cold. He smiled at her automatically, wide, beautiful, unchecked, so different from Erik’s careful reserve.

“Darling,” he started, slinging his cloak over the bed, heeling the door shut. “I–” Then he caught sight of Erik, and froze, hands mid-gesture, foot poised mid-step. All the good humor bled out of his face straight off. He settled, standing up straight. “Uncle.”

It broke her heart to see the worry writ large on his face, the way he’d seen the two of them sitting together and immediately thought Erik was here lecturing her, intimidating her. From worry, he shifted quickly to defensiveness; crossed the room and came to stand beside her chair, hand settling on the back of it. He worshipped his uncle, but he wasn’t going to let the man bully her – which he clearly thought was happening.

Erik stood. “Rune. I was just leaving.” To Tessa: “Thank you for the wine, Tessa.” He shot her a meaningful look, head titled toward Rune.Tell him. “I’ll see you in the morning. Both of you. Sleep well.”

“Sleep well,” Tessa echoing, smiling.I will.

“G’night,” Rune said, belatedly, when Erik was at the threshold.

He lifted a wave over his head and left them, door closing in his wake.

The moment they were alone, Rune rounded the chair and knelt before her, arms laid over her lap, hand seeking hers and pressing it tight. He looked up into her face, entreating. “What did he say to you? Why was he here? Was he being cruel? I don’t think he means to be, but he never knows how ugly he can sound, and–”

Tessa silenced him with a finger laid against his lips; laughed when his brows shot up in confusion. “It was fine, darling. He was a perfect gentleman – but we discussed something that it’s time I discussed with you.”

He frowned. “What?” And then his brows went back up, nearly to his hairline. “You’re with child?” She didn’t know if he sounded joyous, or petrified by the idea.

“No.” She scooted over against the arm of the chair, and patted the space beside her. “Come and sit, my love. I want to talk to you about tomorrow morning…”

~*~

Sweaty and out of breath, blood humming pleasantly with aftershocks, Oliver leaned up and pressed a smacking kiss to Erik’s cheek, bristle of his short beard tickling his own hairless chin. “That was terribly kind of you, Erik Frodeson.”

“Hmm.” Erik stretched beneath him, the lift of his chest like the shaking of a mountain, nearly dislodging Oliver completely. His hand landed with a light smack on Oliver’s backside, afterward, fingers dipping into the cleft and probing where he was still loose, and sensitive, and slick with oil and spend. “I rather thought I was beingunkind, and that you liked it.”

Oliver bit the edge of his jaw in reprimand, and earned a low, rumbling laugh that vibrated through his own body. “What Imeant,” he said, “was that it was very kind of you to give Tessa your blessing for the trip.”

Erik shifted around again, hand sliding up to settle at the small of Oliver’s back. The laughter bled out of him, replaced by another, lower, less happy hum. “Firstly, it’s a campaign and not a ‘trip.’”

“Yes, of course, love.”

“Hmph. And secondly, she would have come whether I gave my blessing or not.” His fingertips trailed up Oliver’s spine, tapping out a rhythm against the vertebrae that said, gently, that Oliver might be in a bit of trouble. (Given that usually resulted in a thorough and spirited fucking, he couldn’t say he was sorry about it.) “Thirdly, I wonder how much of her bravery was…borrowed. From a cousin, let’s say. Or perhapsencouragedis the better word.”

Oliver covered a laugh – Erik truly was more dramatic than a stage performer – with a sigh and pushed up, both hands on Erik’s substantial chest, so he was straddling his waist and could look down into his face. A face creased with worry, despite the fatigue that underlined his eyes. He looked far too tense for a man who should have been basking in the afterglow.

“Do you think so little of Tessa?” Oliver asked. “That she doesn’t have a backbone of her own and that I had toencourageher?”

Erik made a face. “Gods, she said nearly the same thing.”

Oliver grinned. “We’re related, you know.”

“Yes, yes, I know far too well.” He reached up to tangle a hand in Oliver’s hair and pulled him back down to lie against his shoulder. Oliver settled there gladly.

“It will be difficult for her,” Erik said in a defeated voice.

“I know. She knows that, too.”

Erik sighed. “Well, then. South we go.”