Chapter Text
This cave was meant to be a brief refuge, nothing more than a pause in Affogato's journey, a place to rest his legs and inventory his supplies before continuing on toward the royal palace. The road through the mountains had grown treacherous as dusk approached, the wind sharpening and the sky bruising into deep blue. A cave to stop by was a blessing.
He had barely settled against the stone wall, loosening the straps of his satchel and rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness, when he heard it.
A sound. It was low and rough. Affogato froze in spot.
At first, he thought it was the wind curling deeper into the cave or perhaps some night faring beasts stirring in the dark. Then it came again: a pained groan, strained and breathless, followed by the wet, uneven sound of breathing forced through clenched teeth.
His heart leapt violently into his throat.
Affogato’s hand moved before his thoughts could catch up, fingers closing tightly around the small knife he kept hidden at his side. It wasn’t meant for combat, just a tool, really, something to cut cloth or herbs but in that moment it was the only thing that made him feel marginally less helpless. His pulse thundered in his ears as he rose slowly to his feet, every sense sharpened by fear rather than curiosity.
He did not call out because that would be so utterly foolish.
Instead, he took one careful step deeper into the cave, eyes straining against the shadows. The air smelled faintly metallic now. Blood. His stomach twisted.
Another step, and then he saw him.
A towering figure slumped against the far wall, half-hidden by darkness. Broad shoulders rose and fell with effort, armor scarred and dulled, dark fabric soaked through at the arm. Blood streaked down from beneath torn cloth, dripping sluggishly onto the stone floor. Long dark hair, shot through with stark white, clung damply to the side of his face. A sword lay within reach, its edge nicked and stained.
The man’s eyes snapped open the moment Affogato’s foot scraped the stone. In a flash of movement far too fast for someone so clearly injured, the figure seized his sword and dragged it up defensively, the blade wavering but lethal all the same.
“Come no closer,” the stranger growled, voice deep and rough with pain. “One step more and I will not miss.”
Affogato sucked in a sharp breath and immediately raised both hands, the knife clattering uselessly to the ground. Panic surged hot and dizzying through him.
“I—wait—please,” he stammered, words tumbling over one another. “I am not armed. Well, I was—but—” He gestured helplessly toward the fallen knife before quickly shaking his head. “I am a physician. A traveling one. I thought this cave might be empty.”
The man’s grip on the sword tightened and then his eyes flicked sharply to the satchel slung across Affogato’s chest. The telltale bulge of bandages. Glass vials. Dried herbs tied in careful bundles.
Suspicion warred with exhaustion on his face.
“You startled me,” the stranger said after a moment, voice still guarded but less sharp. “I was attacked on the road. I assumed you were another.”
“I am not,” Affogato said quickly, nodding perhaps a bit too eagerly. “I swear it. I wouldn’t last a moment in a fight like that.”
That, at least, earned a faint huff of breath that might have been a humorless laugh.
Slowly, the man lowered his sword, though he did not let it fall from his grasp. His free hand pressed firmly against his injured arm, fingers slick with blood now that the adrenaline had ebbed. His shoulders sagged, the weight of pain finally asserting itself.
“It was not my intent to threaten a civilian,” he said. “But caution keeps one alive.”
Affogato exhaled, realizing how tightly he had been holding his breath. Relief flooded him but it did not override the instinct that followed immediately after.
Injury. Blood loss. A patient. This ma needed his help.
He hesitated only a second before stepping forward again, more slowly this time, movements careful and nonthreatening.
“You’re bleeding too heavily,” he said, professional calm threading its way into his voice despite the lingering tremor. “If you allow me, I can take a look. I may be able to help.”
The stranger studied him for a long moment, dark eyes sharp beneath exhaustion. Silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the faint drip of blood onto stone.
“And you are not lying?” he said at last.
“I could be,” Affogato agreed softly. “But if I wanted to harm you, I wouldn’t be offering bandages and doing all this, no?”
Another pause. Then, with visible effort, the man shifted his posture, leaning back more fully against the cave wall.
“Very well,” he finally relented.
Affogato knelt beside him, setting his satchel down with practiced care. Up close, the damage was clearer: a deep gash along the upper arm, partially hidden by shredded fabric and armor straps. The bleeding had slowed but not enough. Infection would be a serious risk if left untreated.
“I’ll need to see the wound properly,” Affogato said, already reaching for clean cloth. “Your upper garments, may I?”
The man stiffened, just slightly, then nodded once. “Do what you must.”
Affogato carefully loosened the fastenings, drawing fabric away from blood-matted skin. The closeness between them was unavoidable now; the warmth of the man’s body, the steady but labored rhythm of his breathing, the sheer solidity of him even in a weakened state. Affogato focused on the task at hand, forcing his mind to catalog details clinically rather than personally.
Still, he could not ignore the impression the stranger left: strength worn like armor, pain endured without complaint, eyes that missed nothing.
As Affogato began to gingerly clean the wound, he spoke again, more quietly this time.
“You are lucky I stopped here, sir,” he said. “Another hour like this, and you might not have made it.”
The man did not reply immediately. When he did, his voice was low, thoughtful.
“Then it seems our paths crossed for a reason.”
Neither of them yet knew just how true that was.
The wind worsened as the minutes dragged on.
What had begun as a tolerable cold seeped deeper into the cave, riding in on sharp gusts that howled through the entrance like a warning. Snow skittered across the stone floor in thin, restless sheets, gathering in pale drifts near the mouth of the cavern. Outside, night fully claimed the mountains. Traveling now would be just as dangerous as it was foolish. Affogato knew this. And judging by the way the injured man remained seated despite clearly wanting to rise, so did he.
Affogato tended the wound as thoroughly as conditions allowed, cleaning, binding and reinforcing the bandage until the bleeding finally slowed to something manageable. He offered water. The stranger accepted it with a stiff nod, drinking carefully, as if even that small motion cost him something. When the work was done, Affogato leaned back against the opposite wall, exhaustion creeping in now that the immediate danger had passed.
The silence that followed was heavy but not as uncomfortable as he would've expected. Only the wind spoke for a time.
Affogato barely registered the sound before the man beside him reacted.
The injured stranger stiffened instantly, spine straightening as though pulled by a wire. His head snapped toward the cave entrance, eyes narrowing, focus sharpening with sudden intensity. The fatigue that had weighed him down moments ago seemed to burn away, replaced by cold and alertness.
Affogato opened his mouth to ask but the man was already moving.
“No—wait,” Affogato hissed, reaching out instinctively.
Too late.
The stranger had already forced himself upright, teeth clenched as pain clearly tore through his injured arm. He sucked in a sharp breath and ignored it, stepping forward and subtly positioning himself in front of Affogato, broad frame blocking him from the view. One hand reached for his sword.
Affogato’s blood ran cold.
“There are people out there,” he whispered urgently.
“I know,” the man muttered back. His voice was low as he spoke. “It’s them.”
The way he said it sent a chill through Affogato that had nothing to do with the weather.
The footsteps grew louder. Voices followed, muffled by wind but unmistakably human. Multiple and and armed, if the clink of metal was any indication.
The stranger’s fingers brushed the hilt of his sword.“I know,” the man muttered back. His voice was low, dangerous. Familiar. “It’s them.”
The way he said it sent a chill through Affogato that had nothing to do with the weather.
The footsteps grew louder. Voices followed, muffled by wind but unmistakably human. Multiple and clearly armed from the sounds he heard.
The stranger’s fingers brushed the hilt of his sword.
Affogato reacted without thinking.
He grabbed the man’s wrist, fingers closing around it with surprising strength. “Absolutely not,” he whispered fiercely. “You can barely stand. If you go out there like this, you’ll bleed out before you swing that blade.”
The man turned sharply, eyes flashing. “They won’t stop hunting me.”
“And you won’t stop them like this,” Affogato shot back. His voice trembled, but he pressed on. “Listen to me. Please.”
Another voice echoed faintly outside the cave. They were getting even closer.
Affogato’s mind raced. His gaze flicked desperately around the cavern—and then landed on it.
A narrow opening tucked into the stone wall, partially obscured by hanging rock and thick, oversized leaves that had blown in over time. He’d noticed it earlier while gathering tinder.
“There,” he breathed. “There’s a smaller passage. If we squeeze in and cover it—”
A sudden shout cut through the wind outside.
Affogato didn’t care to wait for acknowledgement from the taller man.
Fear propelled him forward as he darted toward the opening, pushing aside the leaves and ducking inside. The space beyond was small and uneven, the stone pressing in on all sides, cold and unforgiving. He twisted sideways, heart pounding and turned back, just to see the man still standing where he’d left him.
“Are you insane?” Affogato whisper-yelled, the panic cracking his composure. “Get in here. Now.”
The stranger hesitated, jaw clenched, clearly torn between instinct and reason. Another step outside echoed closer. His hand tightened briefly on his sword, then loosened.
With a frustrated breath, he relented.
He moved toward the opening, one hand gripping his wounded shoulder where the earlier motion had clearly aggravated it. His breath hitched as he bent to enter, large frame ill-suited for the narrow passage. Affogato scrambled backward to make room, pressing himself flat against the cold stone as the man followed him in.
The space barely accommodated them both.
Stone pressed into Affogato’s back. The stranger’s shoulder brushed his chest. Their knees knocked together awkwardly and there was nowhere to retreat—not without emerging back into danger.
Affogato reached up, pulling the thick leaves down over the entrance as quietly as he could. The cave dimmed further, plunging them into near darkness.
They froze.
Outside, the voices grew clearer.
“Tracks lead this way.”
“Check the cave.”
Affogato’s breath caught. He tried to slow it, terrified the sound alone might give them away. The stranger shifted himself in front of him, angling his body so that he shielded Affogato instinctively, even despite the pain it clearly caused him.
The space between them was little to none here.
Affogato could feel the warmth of him through layers of fabric, could hear the controlled but uneven rhythm of his breathing. Every subtle movement pressed them closer, shoulder to chest, knee to thigh. The stranger’s injured arm was pinned awkwardly between them and Affogato felt the faint tremor that ran through him as he fought to keep still.
A voice sounded just beyond the leaves.
Affogato’s heart slammed against his ribs.
Neither of them spoke.
A shadow passed over the leaf-covered opening and Affogato nearly gasped but the leaves held. The space remained hidden.
Eventually, frustration crept into the voices.
“Nothing here.”
“They could not have gone far.”
“The storm is getting worse. We’ll lose the trail.”
The footsteps retreated slowly, reluctantly, until only the sound of wind remained.
Still, neither of them moved. Not until long after they felt the cave was truly safe.
Only then did the stranger exhale, long and heavy, his forehead tipping forward until it nearly touched Affogato’s head, seeing his mistake, he quickly leaned it on the stone next to the Physcian's head. The tension bled out of him all at once, leaving exhaustion in its wake.
Affogato realized belatedly that his hands were shaking.
“You’re impossible,” he whispered faintly, half in fear, half in disbelief.
A low, breathless sound escaped the man, it was like a scoff and a laugh.
“And you,” he murmured, voice rough but quieter now, “are far braver than you look, for a physician.”
In the cramped darkness, pressed together by necessity and danger, neither of them had tried to pull away.
.
Morning came soon after.
The storm had burned itself out sometime before dawn, leaving the mountains hushed beneath a blanket of pale snow. Cold light filtered into the cave, revealing stone walls etched with frost and the scattered remnants of leaves they had used to hide. The danger had passed but with it came the inevitable parting.
Affogato finished adjusting the final wrap on the stranger’s arm, checking for warmth, circulation, signs of reopening. The wound was healing well enough to travel slowly, that is provided if the man did not do anything reckless... which, judging by his temperament, seemed unlikely advice to be followed.
“You should keep pressure on it for another day,” Affogato said, rising and brushing dust from his knees. “Change the dressing if it bleeds again. And don’t—” he paused, exhaling faintly, “—don’tswing a sword unless you want it torn open.”
The man gave an amused expression. “why lecture me like a mother?"
“With how ready you were to charge at them back there.." Affogato replied without hiding the annoyance.
They stood near the cave entrance for a moment, the cold biting but manageable now. The stranger adjusted his cloak, movements slower than before but steadier. He turned to face Affogato fully, his eyes lingering with an intensity that made Affogato straighten unconsciously.
“I won’t forget what you did for me,” the man said. His voice was calm, too serious for something that had, to Affogato, felt simply like instinct. “If our paths cross again, know that you have my gratitude.”
They parted soon after; one heading down the mountain path toward the capital, the other disappearing into the snowbound trails beyond. Affogato watched him go only briefly before shouldering his satchel and continuing on his own way.
Still, as dramatic as the promise had sounded, he couldn’t deny the warmth it left behind.
.
The imperial palace was everything Affogato expected and more; a great towering fortress, disciplined order, the feel of authority that pressed down on every corridor and courtyard. He was inducted into the ranks of the royal physicians with little ceremony, assigned quarters, given work almost immediately. Days blurred into one another: preparing tonics, cataloging herbs, treating strained soldiers and exhausted servants alike.
He settled in quickly.
A week had passed by now.
Affogato found himself crossing the training grounds under clear skies, tray of medicine balanced carefully in his arms. The soldiers were already gathered, armor gleaming, breath fogging faintly as they listened to instructions. He slowed as he approached the edge of the field, scanning for the officer he was meant to deliver the remedies to—
And then he saw him.
Tall, broad-shouldered, cloaked in dark armor. White-streaked hair caught the sunlight as he turned slightly, speaking in low tones to the soldiers beside him.
Affogato stopped dead. For a heartbeat, his mind refused to connect the image before him with the injured stranger in the cave.
Then the man turned just enough for Affogato to see his face clearly.
His breath hitched.
“Oh,” Affogato said aloud, before he could stop himself.
The word carried. The man looked up, their eyes met.
Shock flickered across the man's face, quick and unguarded, before his expression settled back into something composed.
Affogato recovered first, forcing his feet to move. He approached, lifting the tray slightly.
“Hello again,” he said, offering a polite, friendly smile. “I've—"
The words had barely left his mouth when someone beside the strabger stiffened sharply.
“How dare you,” the soldier snapped, turning on Affogato with visible offense. “What possessed you to speak so casually to His Majesty, the king?”
The world tilted.
His Majesty..?
The King?