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"Sel?"
William's voice couldn't be softer, but Selwyn still jumps.
"What's wrong?"
William sighs, "Nothing. Have you eaten?"
No. Not what I'm actually hungry for. A harsh sigh, a bitten lip.
He can hear someone speaking, hushed whispers of Merlins and demons, wondering if he can be trusted, if he's planning to hurt them. He tries not to listen, but that's never worked for him, not once.
"Briana says he's good, and the ancestors let him in. No use worrying, we can't do anything about it."
The voice snorts, "Right, Briana, the bloodcrafter." They say the word like a curse, and Sel almost bears his teeth on Bree's behalf.
"I'm not hungry." He says instead, trying to focus on the songbirds on the windowsill, the giggling laughter in the yard.
"Nice try, but that isn't what I asked you, Selwyn. Come eat. And that's not a suggestion either."
He glares, but it's half hearted. He follows William back into the kitchen in a daze. Volition is positively thrumming with aether, with root, and it takes an unfair amount of self control not to press his hands to the earth and bask in it. But it wasn't his to enjoy, wasn't his to take advantage of. Wasn't even necessarily for his protection.
Alice is in the kitchen, laughing with Bree. He's not sure what they're doing, because he's trying not to pay it any attention. In fact, he's trying not to focus on much of anything right now. If he were to focus on Bree's voice, easy and smooth and relaxed, he knows he'd only be able to worry about what new thing would come and take that joy away from her.
He's sure no one in the order can get in here, but there are other ways to-
"Selwyn!"
William flicks his arm, and it actually stings. "What?"
"Help me set the table."
Sel blinks at the stack of plates William is holding out towards him for a moment longer, then ducks his head in an apology.
"Right."
The table is perfectly set by the time Bree, Alice, and Mariah come out of the kitchen, all holding bowls or plates or pots of steaming hot food.
The smell of it makes his mouth water, and he begrudgingly thanks William for reminding him to come down.
He's just met with knowing eyes over a sip of iced tea, and Sel decides to follow his advice, at least for a bit.
He smiles at Bree when she sits down next to him, pours her tea, hands her utensils.
She keeps looking at him, sometimes amused, sometimes fond as the conversation progresses. Sel doesn't speak much, only adding context when the topic of their journey here comes up. None of them seem thrilled to linger on it, but Alice does burst into a detailed (and slightly embellished) version of how she gained Valechaz's favor.
The man himself isn't here to dispute it, and Sel certainly isn't going to. Instead, he eats the perfectly seasoned food, filling and hot, listens to Bree and William's laughter, hiding his own in his tea until the sun lowers across the horizon and the cicadas begin their songs.
William and Alice stay back to clean up, but Bree takes his arm and guides him outside before he can help.
He's perfectly content to walk with her, in this miracle place where he can let himself relax for once.
Bree pauses by a tree, eyes going distant and glassy, and Sel takes her hand but doesn't disturb her. He still doesn't quite understand her medium abilities, isn't sure he'll ever be able to without experiencing it, but he does know how important it is for her.
Voices catch Sel's attention while Bree is occupied, and, hesitantly, he tilts his head towards them.
"A Merlin! How did he even get in here?"
"I don't know. I don't like the way it moves, it's too perfect. It feels like a predator, not an actual person."
It. Predator. Sel's head swims.
He tries to suppress his gasp, but Bree chooses that precise moment to focus in on him again.
"Hey, you okay?" She's holding his arm, eyes narrowed and worried.
The very last thing Sel wants to do is explain it, to taint this paradise for her, so he nods. His smile is strained though, because he can't make those two words stop bouncing around his head.
Because they're right, aren't they? He is dangerous. He nearly hurt Bree, physically on top of the emotional hurt he knows he'll never be able to properly make up for. All for his own stupid ego.
And he knows, deep down, if he looks too hard at that dark, clawing part of him that insisted it was a good idea in the first place, he knows he could hurt her again.
"Okay..." Bree says, in that way of hers that says "I don't believe you, not even a little bit."
He loves her. He does, and he's sure they both know it. He won't act on it, not again, though. He's hurt Nick enough for a lifetime, and whatever feelings he had for either of them would only complicate things right now.
"Was dinner too much? We can find a quieter place in the forest, if that would help."
The idea that a forest could be quieter than anything else here is almost laughable, but it's an out, and a blessed one at that.
"Okay."
They walk at a slower pace than Sel would like, but fast enough by human standards. Bree stops right at the edge of Volition's protection, sitting cross-legged with her back to it.
The dome is mostly invisible, but if Sel squints he can see it, like heat waves on pavement, thrumming like a million heartbeats.
"It's amazing, isn't it?" Bree whispers, leaning her head up to face the night sky.
Sel settles next to her, nodding. He's not exactly sure if she means Volition or the sky or the root all around them. Maybe it's all three, but Sel agrees either way.
A few people upset about his presence shouldn't taint this beautiful place, this safe haven.
He's used to it by now, anyway. Whispers like that, of his more inhuman traits, were par for the course back at the order. New classes of pages daring each other to check if he actually had fangs, regents at meetings whispering about whether he'll finally snap today, just like his mother.
His mother, who did not snap. Who did not succumb to her blood, who was framed and forced into hiding, who helped Bree get here to him today.
His mother who he hasn't seen since he was a small child. Who never left anything for him, not a note, not a hint or a riddle about her whereabouts, just an empty cabin and an empty heart-
Sel rests his head against Bree's shoulder. He's not actually sure if she was speaking before, but if she was the movement stops her short.
She doesn't ask if he's okay, and for that he's thankful. One hand raises to pet his hair, slow, hesitant, as if she's worried Sel will turn her away. As if he could ever say no to her.
"I'm glad you're here." She whispers, voice soft and something, too much and barely anything at once.
"I... I am too." He wants to say more, to make her understand how much he means it, how he's sure that Bree is the only thing tethering him to humanity, to himself. But Bree is doing this lovely scratching thing to his head, and Sel's eyelids are fluttering closed.
"It must be hard for you," Bree says, voice pitching lower, like a secret, "With all the noise and stuff, I mean. I understand why, but I can't imagine it's pleasant to hear everything all the time."
Sel almost laughs, but he only manages a slow nod. It's more like a nuzzle, though, and he somehow ends up closer to Bree's neck, head tucked right underneath her jaw.
"I hope this helps, some. Just... Getting to breathe. Not needing to listen. Knowing you can tune it out, if you need to."
"It does," Sel murmurs, and a part of him hates how gently he says it, tongue caressing the words like precious treasures, hesitant to leave his mouth.
"You help. It's not... It doesn't fix it. But you help."
Sel can feel Bree's smile, the way her jaw shifts above his head. Her scratching grows more confident, like she's rewarding him or praising him for being honest, and it's somehow not at all patronizing.
Sel tucks his legs closer to his chest and leans more against her, barely fighting the sleep tugging at each of his limbs. Bree wraps an arm around his waist and Sel melts, a shaky but content sigh slipping from his mouth.
It's that sound that finally pulls him to his senses, and he grimaces.
"We... Shouldn't stay out here too long. You need rest."
Bree smiles again, and Sel doesn't need to look at her to know that she has no plans of moving.
"So do you. We're about as safe as we can get right now, Sel. Sleep."
A deep breath. Bree holds him a bit tighter, keeping him steady even as his muscles loosen, falling limp against her as warmth and relaxation press his eyes shut.