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They'd already said their goodbyes. The fountain of blood had been an odd backdrop for a tearful departure, but it wouldn't have been the same without Efink, and while Sokhbarr may not have generally cared much for sentient creatures of the two-legged variety, his friends were the exception. Markus had already left, without a grand goodbye, so Sokhbarr had tried to keep it short and unemotional, but once Maggie had swept him into a bone-crushing hug, it had quickly become a surprisingly sweet moment, for a handful of servants of evil. Efink and Lilith had also opted for hugs, leaving Sokhbarr a little dazed, covered in blood, and dotted with a bit of spider silk.
And then he'd attempted to hug Leiland as well—sue him, he was a hug-loving bog-lord, though he hadn't intended on inflicting that on everyone—and the wraith had awkwardly side-stepped and grasped his hand for a shake instead. "Sokhbarr," he'd said, with a quiver in his melodic voice. "Er—safe travels. My... my friend."
Sokhbarr hadn't let Leiland's hesitancy throw him off—to be fair, it wasn't anything unusual—and if the king of the Vinguri didn't want to be hugged, Sokhbarr could respect that. So he'd just adjusted his grip on Leiland's arm, shook it vigorously, and promised to visit soon. Then Leiland had vanished behind Maggie and Leiland Jr., and by the time Sokhbarr had managed to escape Lilith's mothering (she reminded him to take snacks for the road no less than three times), the ghostly knight had been nowhere to be found.
But Sokhbarr had put it out of his mind, and hadn't let it bother him—Leiland didn't like to be around too many people for too long, and he supposed four people all being excessively sentimental might've been a bit much for him. The man had also been processing a lot since that fateful day about a week earlier, when his lord and love of his life had been killed, and Leiland's entire life had crashed down around his ears like the Bloodkeep almost had. Things had happened fast, and it turned out that Leiland's un-life had been a shitshow.
It was an hour later, now—Sokhbarr had almost finished making sure all his things were together, doing last checks with Beezo, the worg, who had opted to stay in Gorgar, and promised to keep an eye on things while the bog-lord wasn't there. Of course, Sokhbarr had actually left an orc named Radhg in charge, but Beezo didn't need to know that. Honestly, he didn't trust either of them implicitly, but as long as the army of the new Lord of Shadows got their severed body parts to gnaw on, it would all work out fine.
He finished tightening the leather straps of the saddle on J'er'em'ih's torso, as the scream beast's face peeled open and his neck twisted at a horrible angle to try to lick Sokhbarr's face. It was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen, and he cooed as much at his animal companion, before giving J'er'em'ih's neck a few pats and standing up.
And there was Leiland, standing a few paces away, with a couple of J'er'em'ih's pups nipping at his metal boots.
"Holy shit!" Sokhbarr blurted, fully taken by surprise. "Uh—Leiland! Buddy! What're you doing here? I was just about to..." He gestured at J'er'em'ih and the scream beasts. "We're heading out now, unless there's some kind of emergency..."
"No!" Leiland insisted quickly, before awkwardly clasping his hands together and continuing, hurriedly, "No, no, no emergency, nothing like that, I just wanted to... see you off." He looked down at the scream beasts clawing at his ankles and screeching, and a fond smile passed across his pale lips. "And the, um, little guys, of course. They are adorable, I really don't know what other people don't see in them."
Sokhbarr sighed, an equally fond expression on his face as he gazed at J'er'em'ih and his offspring. "I guess most people just don't have an appreciation for beauty like we do."
"I suppose not," Leiland concurred. "I do owe J'er'em'ih my life, after all."
For a moment, Sokhbarr wondered if Leiland knew that he'd lied. He hadn't even really known why he'd lied, in that moment—not until Leiland had held J'er'em'ih in his arms and thanked him profusely, and Sokhbarr had realized that he'd been saving his heart from more ache. He couldn't have handled Leiland's sincere gratitude, not after everything else—Sokhbarr was a strong kashai, but he had one true weakness. Well, perhaps two, because there were a lot of things he would do for J'er'em'ih that he wouldn't do for anyone else. But it was an unwavering fact, and it had been for years, that Kraz-Thun, Leiland, king of the Vinguri and the Lord of Shadows' loyal Umbra Knight, made his knees just a little bit weak.
And it was also an unwavering fact that Leiland was devastatingly in love with Zaul'Nazh.
Sokhbarr knew he'd suffered a betrayal and had learned the truth about how horrible the Lord of Shadows had been, but Sokhbarr could still see it in his eyes every time Zaul'Nazh was mentioned. It was the kind of pain that only surfaced when someone you loved, and that had loved you (on some level) in return, had damaged you, and you still couldn't bear to hate them for it. Sokhbarr had seen the same expression on plenty of heartbroken swamp creatures, and he knew that it would take more than a few days with a new lord on the throne for Leiland to figure out how to move on, even if that lord was his godson.
Maybe finally killing Galfast Hamhead would let him rest a little more easily, though.
"You could come with us," Sokhbarr offered quickly, because his mind was doing far too much thinking and this pause was becoming a little too awkward, even where Leiland was involved.
Leiland blinked twice. "I'm sorry?"
"Leiland Jr. ordered you to kill the halfling, Hamhead, didn't he?" Sokhbarr phrased it like a question, but he knew it for a fact—he remembered the blazing determination in Leiland's gaze, and the force with which he'd accepted his new assignment, knee literally cracking the stone floor. It had instantly made Sokhbarr's mind go somewhere it shouldn't have in polite company, and he'd downed his entire tankard of ale in one go. "The swamps are... mostly on the way to Ruckland. Might as well not go alone."
"I... wasn't going to leave just yet," Leiland admitted. "The regent Maggie has convinced me to stay in Gorgar for a little while, help get things under control again, you know—perhaps aid in creating some new Vinguri so that the Lord of Shadows is sufficiently protected in my absence. But... I appreciate your offer, my lord Sokhbarr. Might you allow me to make one of my own?"
Goddamn Leiland for being so particular about titles, because that drawl of my lord Sokhbarr in that soothing voice made Sokhbarr want to slam him into the nearest wall and ram his tongue down the wraith's throat. But he didn't, he reigned his thoughts back in, because what Leiland didn't need right now was one of his trusted friends coming onto him. Leiland was, as he always has been, unavailable. "Go for it," he answered gruffly, and he distracted himself by checking J'er'em'ih's saddle again.
"Could you not... stay... here?" Leiland asked, his tone almost pitching up into a squeak on the last word. "I know, I know, the swamps need you, but they've survived without you during the war, and we... we need you, too. Markus has already departed, but I understand, he has a kingdom to retake—you, you... Leiland Jr. needs all the support he can get, unfortunately. And you, the bog-lord... and all the creatures that have been freed and are now wandering aimlessly, they need you. We, your friends, and Leiland Jr., we need you. And I... I..." Leiland's eyes widened slightly as he stumbled over the final sentence, and Sokhbarr's mind stuttered. "I... would like to not be the only man around?" he finished awkwardly, with a quiet, nervous laugh as if he wanted to give the impression that he'd been intending on making a joke the whole time.
"Leiland," Sokhbarr replied, looking up at his gaunt and sunken, yet unnaturally handsome face. "Did you almost say 'I need you'?" Because it was the last thing that Leiland needed, but they were villains, dammit, and keeping an infatuation under wraps for hundreds of years was an unimaginably frustrating task. And a tiny, uncrushed flicker of hope in his reptilian heart made him need to know.
A pale blue flush crept across Leiland's white skin. "I... I, er... I need your help?" he stammered, but he was a terrible liar. "Your support, and your—your, ah, um... oh, Lord below—"
"I don't bite," Sokhbarr said, because he couldn't think of anything better to say. He felt like he was in a dream—the most wonderful nightmare he'd ever had, with J'er'em'ih beside him and Leiland falling apart in front of him. "I mean, unless you wanted me to."
Leiland looked mortified, and made a very undignified squeak. "I apologize," he finally managed. "I am being... very, very unprofessional, and I am disturbing your plans, I am going—"
"You're not going anywhere. Stay right there," Sokhbarr ordered, voice low and calm.
Leiland obeyed, halting mid-step and looking, wide-eyed, at Sokhbarr. "You—"
"We can be honest with each other, can't we, Leiland?" He didn't mean for it to come out so threatening, but he was a kashai bog-lord and Leiland was a pactwraith knight—why would they talk to each other like good people?
Leiland nodded, hesitantly, and after a moment, when he realized that Sokhbarr wasn't going to say anything more, he breathed, "I need you. Sokhbarr."
"I'll come back," Sokhbarr told him. "I have to check on things. And I can't take care of all these scream beasts on my own, even though I want to, so I have to take them home."
Hands twitching at his sides, Leiland took a shuddering breath. "Of... course."
There was a beat of silence.
"Just so you know," Sokhbarr said, "I've been in love with you for three hundred years." He wasn't good at confessions. He'd never really done romance, to be honest, and he never really kept secrets, either—he delivered his opinion bluntly and to a person’s face. And even though he'd been sitting so long on this one, there was no poetic language or grand romantic gestures. Just that. A single sentence.
Shock wove its way across Leiland's face. "You're not serious," he replied.
"Yeah. I mean, no, I am. But you've always had that... that thing with Zaul'Nazh, so I kept my mouth shut." Sokhbarr shrugged. It was so much easier when Leiland had taken the heat first, had let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. Easier to pretend that he hadn't been grinding his heart slowly and painfully for several centuries.
"I would have..." Leiland started, then stopped. "You could have... I might... I... I wish you hadn't."
"M-hm. Me too." Sokhbarr left the rest unspoken—the details, whatever was going through Leiland's head, it didn't need to be said. He wasn't a man of elegant words, and Leiland tried to be, but often just sounded ridiculous. So he elected to change course. "Can I touch your face?"
"Pardon?" Leiland blinked. "I mean. Yes. Please." He sounded breathless, which was odd for a being that didn't need to breathe.
Sokhbarr extended a clawed, rough-scaled hand and cupped Leiland's jaw, as gently as he could. Despite being undead, and practically un-killable, Sokhbarr still didn't want to hurt him. And a nimble, long-fingered hand found its way into Sokhbarr's hair, as well, and before Sokhbarr could think, Leiland was gently guiding them towards each other, which was more forward than Sokhbarr ever expected him to be.
And it was a nice moment. A really nice, romantic moment, at least until Leiland's face collided with Sokhbarr's large nose ring and they awkwardly bumped away from each other.
"Can you try—"
"Underneath? Like this?"
Leiland tried again, head awkwardly tilted, but the angle still didn't work, and when they collided again, Leiland let out an annoyed sound and Sokhbarr rubbed his nose, which had actually twinged with pain from that. After a moment, they both began to giggle.
"So, that doesn't work," Sokhbarr concluded, through rough chuckling, as he regarded Leiland.
"No, no, it really doesn't," Leiland replied, his light laughter making his shoulders jump while he attempted to stifle it. "Perhaps we can try again when you return?"
"Mm, good plan, good plan," Sokhbarr agreed. "And we can also, y'know. Talk about it."
"Must we?" And, dammit, why was Leiland so good at emulating a kicked puppy?
"I dunno. That's what people do, right? Talk about stuff?"
Leiland nodded. "Most of the time, yes. Far too much, in my opinion. It's an awful lot of words that don't mean anything—no wonder our enemies had to resort to trickery to defeat Zaul'Nazh." He continued, "But you are correct, if we intend to make something of this, we should definitely discuss it in-depth—our wants, needs, prior obligations, anything that could cause problems..."
"I think you're talking too much," Sokhbarr interrupted. "And if you want me to come back, you gotta let me leave." J'er'em'ih had started chewing on his cloak, indicating his restlessness, and Sokhbarr agreed. It was time to go.
"Ah... yes, that is how it works—unfortunate, isn't it?" Leiland bowed his head. "Bog-lord Sokhbarr. The Lord of Shadows, Leiland Jr., expresses his deepest thanks for everything you have done for Gorgar, and wishes you safe travels."
"Oh, c'mon, you can't just parrot your rehearsed words after all that," Sokhbarr grumbled, lightheartedly.
Leiland cleared his throat and continued. "And I, Leiland, king of the Vinguri, love you and hope you are able to return very soon." And he leaned down, just slightly, and kissed the top of Sokhbarr's head—he barely felt it, but he supposed it was better than breaking Leiland's nose in an attempt to kiss the 'right' way.
Sokhbarr grinned. "That's more like it." And he slung his leg over J'er'em'ih's back, and called to the little scream beasts still trying to devour Leiland's ankles. "Come on, kids!"
Leiland laughed and shook his head as the nightmare creatures detached themselves from him and trotted after J'er'em'ih and Sokhbarr. But one of them clung on, still wrapped around his leg in a way that shouldn't have been possible for a creature like that.
Sokhbarr whistled at it, and it finally let go, but not before giving Leiland one last ear-piercing screech.
"Give lots of people nightmares, little guy," Sokhbarr heard Leiland murmur as the last pup joined the group.
And Sokhbarr beamed to himself, because Leiland was really everything he could have hoped for, and he couldn't wait to come home.