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Somewhere along the way– he didn’t remember when– Narinder’s resentment for Lambert turned to acceptance. Acceptance turned to familiarity. Familiarity became friendship.
Of course, that didn’t make their friendship any less bizarre; it arose out of necessity since they were now stuck with each other for their immortal lives. Nevertheless, the past decade brought them close.
With the moon necklace around his neck, Narinder had spent hours tending to the crops. Though he had adjusted to regaining his mobility well enough, the occasional flare-up of pain still shot through his bones. Especially at times like these. Once again, he had overestimated his physical limits and suffered the hefty price it exacted. It had been too easy to ignore the hunger pangs and the growing sensation of… well, something itching beneath his skin. An irritation he couldn’t quite scratch.
At long last, Narinder threw off the straw hat and dropped the hoe. Lambert could read minds– they would know what bothered him even if he struggled to identify it.
Narinder examined the position of the sun in the sky and squinted. Too bright, he decided, despite the veil that shielded his face from potential visual over-stimulation. By mid-afternoon, Lambert was likely to be finalizing their sermon.
Narinder approached the alcove Lambert had ordered to be built for the two of them, a small, private section between the farmplots and the trees lining the bounds of the cult territory. They occasionally got together there to talk about topics only a crownbearer would understand, to relax in the brief snippets of time they could to simply breathe, to keep each other company in their easygoing way that needed no words. The fence that surrounded the little garden was short, but they need not worry about privacy there; no followers would venture near the area anyhow.
Narinder didn’t need to knock, of course, but tapped the gate before opening it to announce his presence.
Lambert laid in a bed of clover, their head resting in their hands as they read a scroll. A mushroom candle flickered from a mere few feet away. “Overworked yourself again, Nari,” they observed with a tsk.
“Blow that out before you knock it over and burn something.” Narinder pointed to the candle before he sat down beside them. “Hey, d’you mind peeking into my brain and telling me what the hell is bothering me? I can’t figure it out.”
Lambert let a corner of their mouth turn up in a half-smile before venturing into Narinder's mind. They didn't need to delve deeper than the surface to know what was going on. “Dude, you’re touch-starved so bad. Luckily, so am I. Let me give you a hug or something.”
Narinder squinted at them. “That doesn’t sound right. I’m not a physical contact person.”
“Hey.” Lambert rolled up the scroll, set it aside, and sat up beside Narinder. “Hey, Nari. Watch this.”
Narinder eyed Lambert’s hand with skepticism as they reached out to touch his face. When he felt the contact, he didn’t think much of it until Lambert began rubbing their thumb in little circles.
He closed his eyes to hide the welling tears. Shamura had done this, exactly this, when they would cuddle him as a baby. A tightness formed in his throat, and Narinder wasn’t sure if he was trying to choke down a sob or if he was about to start purring.
“You okay?” Lambert asked, starting to pull their hand away. They weren’t sure what to make of his reaction until Narinder pressed his cheek into their palm, chasing the pressure.
Not a physical contact person, huh? Lambert thought to themself. They reached their other hand under his chin and gave a soft scratch. They felt the telltale rumble of a purr rise in his chest before they heard it a few seconds later, and they couldn’t help but coo at the sight. They had heard him purr before, but only to calm himself down.
Heat rose to Narinder’s cheeks. He kept his eyes closed but immediately silenced himself when Lambert reacted.
Lambert was devastated. “Don’t stop.”
Narinder considered their words, and warily decided to resume when Lambert began stroking his back. He leaned against them, nestling his waist in their lap and pressing his head against their shoulder. “Don’t… say anything,” he demanded in between purrs.
Instead of speaking, Lambert gave a hum of acknowledgement, which Narinder seemed to find acceptable, if rubbing his cheek against their shoulder was any indication.
The two flip-flopped between cuddles and pets, Lambert more of a cuddler and Narinder appreciating more of the petting. Narinder nuzzled his face into Lambert’s soft wool and ran his fingers through it, contemplating the texture. Every once in a while, he’d open his eyes and look up at Lambert to make sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries.
Lambert did the same for him. “Still okay?” They’d ask, to which Narinder answered by rejuvenating his quieting purr and nudging his head back underneath their hands. They experimented with different motions: rubbing his face, scratching his chin, and running their hand up and down his back might get tiring after a while, they figured, even though Narinder’s ever-present purr indicated otherwise. What else did cats like? They pressed a couple of fingertips to Narinder's head and waited for him to make a move.
Narinder’s ears twitched at the unfamiliar contact and he gave a contented sigh, pressing them into Lambert's touch. He had leaned too far into receiving affection to use his words, but Lambert seemed to understand what he meant his reaction to convey: telling them this is okay without needing to say anything at all.
Lambert reached up with both hands and rubbed Narinder’s ears a few times. When Narinder answered this motion with the smallest of smiles, they curved their fingers and gave the base of one a gentle scritch. They weren’t sure what they expected, but it was definitely not the full-body shiver that erupted from Narinder.
Narinder’s once-cold heart was near bursting. He knew he'd regret showing Lambert this side of him so soon, but he was too comfortable to care. He gave a tiny “mew” he’d certainly be embarrassed about later and wrapped the tip of his tail around Lambert’s wrist. The volume of his purr nearly doubled, and he could feel his chest vibrating.
Lambert continued their scritches to Narinder's ears, but tapped his shoulder lightly. Keeping their voice low, they asked, “Nari, is this too much?”
“Mm-mm.” Narinder’s tone rose and fell in a way that signified a no. He hadn’t received affection like this for longer than a millennium, and he knew how strange it felt to share it with his former vessel whom, less than a decade ago, he’d wanted to revenge-kill. Then again, nothing else about their friendship made much sense to him– it had kind of snuck up on him before he realized he had made his first genuine connection in a long, long time.
“Okay. Let me know if you want me to stop.”
“Lambert–” Narinder’s voice cut off mid-sentence when a purr caught in his throat and rose to a trill. “–It’s fine. I swear it.”
Lambert watched the purring puddle of Narinder in their lap. This was the same cat who had towered over them all those years ago, who had attempted to kill them to reclaim his power. They were amazed that the former God of Death could be so… adorable.
Lambert’s scritches soon slowed, and their pets to Narinder’s head became languid. Narinder couldn’t fight the sleep that he could feel about to overcome him, and he knew it, so he started kneading Lambert’s lap. Though he wore the moon necklace and didn’t necessarily need to sleep, he still felt the urge when he got particularly comfortable. Before he could let himself drift off, he whispered, “The last time I was cared for like this, I had a family. Thank you for doing this.”
Lambert was about to respond when Narinder butted his head under their chin and they heard one more thought poke through his mind: And thank you for not teasing me about the way I return your care.
“Oh, Nari.” Lambert took one of his hands when he had stopped kneading. “You still miss them, don’t you?”
Narinder closed his eyes and lay his head in Lambert’s lap. His breaths lengthened, an occasional purr escaping when he exhaled. He gave no answer for a full minute, and the instant Lambert had wondered if he had fallen asleep, he responded. “I think that… I miss the memories of them… more than I miss them. ”
“I think I know what you mean.” Lambert ruffled the fur on Narinder’s head. When they were sure he had fallen asleep, they rested their back against the clover, careful not to stir him, and closed their eyes.
The two woke up an hour later. Neither of them wanted to move first, because then they’d have to both acknowledge that the other was awake and that they had spent the afternoon cuddling their ex-enemy. That they were friends now didn’t make the realization any less jarring.
Lambert declared a holy day so they wouldn’t have to preach that day’s sermon.