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Everything felt wrong. They were all supposed to make it. No matter how many close-calls they’d had, they’d always made it. What had changed in those last few hours? What purpose had Matthias’s death served? Wylan’s father had probably arrived in Hellgate by now, the Ravkans and Kuwei were on their way home. Jesper’s father was on his way, and in a couple of weeks so would be the kruge. Matthias’s death hadn’t changed any of those outcomes. Ketterdam was still in uproar over the plague, Pekka Rollins was probably still trying desperately to find his son.
Whoever had killed Matthias hadn’t stopped any of those things from happening by doing so. So why did it happen?
Everything felt wrong. And cold. Wylan wasn’t really sure whether it was the fact that Ketterdam just had particularly shitty weather tonight or whether maybe the cold he felt on the inside had finally reached his skin. The cold insecurity he had always carried with him. The cold sadness Matthias’s death had brought.
After Kaz had disappeared and the remaining three of them had waited to see the reflections of a red flare on the buildings of Ketterdam, signalling that the others had made it out of the city, they had slowly made their way inside. Wylan hadn’t known how to feel. None of them had probably. Relieved, distraught, maybe a little bit hopeful. However, exhausted seemed to be overriding any other emotion.
“All beds have been made, sir. We didn’t know how many of your friends would be staying.” A servant had said.
Wylan had looked at Inej, seeing the way even she seemed to be swaying on her feet. Stay he’d said. Inej had nodded and had let her and Jesper be led away by the servant to show them to their rooms. Another servant had showed up to explain to Wylan that they had had to move another bed to his old room, since it had been refurnished as a nursery after he had left.
So now here Wylan was lying in a foreign bed, staring at the cradle on the other side of the room, that had once been his. He had been shocked by how much effort and care his father seemed to have put in redecorating this room. Or maybe it had been Alys’s call to decorate the walls with paintings of animals you couldn’t even find in the busy streets of Ketterdam. Then again, Van Eck seemed to care about his children as long as they could read and keep up his legacy.
It was so cold. And so wrong. Exhausted as he was, Wylan had tried to close his eyes and let sleep take him away. However, the moment he shut out the soft light that came in through the window (there happened to be a lantern right outside his window, which used to annoy him endlessly until he had learned to fall asleep to the light casting shades all throughout his room), the images had started.
First there had been the sight of his father’s stone cold face as he watched the Fjerolind being crushed to pieces by the water. Then there was Matthias’s face, cold, lifeless. There was Inej, all cuts and bruises. Alys rubbing her belly as she told him they’d have someone added to the family. Matthias’s face without any of the rage he had held for the world, without any of the love he had held for Nina. He saw Jesper with his mask slid off. The fright of what his father might say. The fidgeting, the restlessness. And again and again and again Matthias’s face. We were all supposed to make it. It was so cold.
Before he knew it, Wylan’s feet touched the floor. He bundled up his pillow and duvet in his arms, wincing at the sting in his ribs, and tried not to bump into anything on his way out the door.
Even though everybody had been exhausted, the house was anything but silent. Passing Alys’s rooms he heard silent singing and he couldn’t help the slight tug on the corner of his mouth. The servant rooms were mostly quiet except for one where he heard two girls lowly whispering to each other. Wylan couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they sounded worried and pitiful, which, he figured, made sense.
Passing the door to the guestroom Inej was occupying he didn’t hear a sound. But The Wraith was good at keeping quiet and he doubted she would be sleeping soundly after losing one of their crew, saying goodbye to her best friend and Kaz disappearing on them.
And then he was in front of Jesper’s room. Would this be his room permanently? Was he really going to stay? Was he really going to read all those endless contracts to him and accompany him to all those endless business meetings?
Wylan remembered there was supposed to be a couch in the room big enough to sleep semi-comfortably on, so his sleepdrunk brain had told him he wouldn’t be too much of a bother to Jesper if he took it. He just needed to not be alone in this house where he had always felt alone. Now, standing in front of Jesper’s door, however, it seemed ridiculous.
He was about to turn back around, pillow and duvet still gathered in his arms, when he heard something crashing down on the other side of the door, followed by muttered curse words.
Wylan took a deep breath and nudged the door open with his elbow. The room was a mess. Pillows from the couch and bed were scattered all over the floor, books lay open on about every surface and in the midst of all Jesper was pacing up and down, hands not staying still for the slightest second.
The moment Jesper saw Wylan he pauses mid-step.
“Wy…”
And just for a moment his face seemed to relax and his shoulders slumped down with relief. Then he glanced around and a guilty look settled in.
“So I made a bit of a mess.” Wylan nodded. Without a word he walked over to the couch and dumped his pillow and duvet on it before turning back to Jesper, who was still standing awkwardly still in the centre of the room.
“Okay, so how about I help you clean up this mess and then you let me sleep on your couch?” Wylan suggested, already moving to take a book from the floor and put it back on the shelf.
“You know my bed is way more comfortable, merchling.” And even though Wylan could hear Jesper’s voice didn’t carry half of its usual smugness, he could feel the blood rising to his face while he tried to busy himself with collecting the throwpillows that had ended up on the other side of the room.
Thank Ghezen it had been enough to get Jesper moving again and for a while they silently worked on getting the room back in order. Eventually, it was Wylan who broke the silence.
“So I know I’m not exactly on good terms with books, but what happened for them to get this treatment?” He said, holding up a book that seemed to have been thrown down a bit more violently than the others.
“I needed a distraction, but I couldn’t concentrate on any of them.”
“So then you decided to turn on the throwpillows Alys had so wonderfully embroidered with inspirational quotes?” Jesper chuckled as Wylan held up a pillow that said Serve Ghezen and His Hand will serve all your needs.
“Yeah, I think Alys might somehow be even more innocent than you are, merchling.” Wylan grinned at that, dropping the throwpillow back on the couch and taking a few steps towards Jesper, stopping mere inches apart.
Standing so closely, the difference in height between them felt even bigger. Wylan let a smug smile tug at his lips.
“Am I really, though?” And with that he pushed himself on the tips of his toes and softly pressed his lips to Jesper’s. It was just the softest of touches, but Wylan immediately felt the last bit of tension in Jesper subside. It was barely a kiss, but it felt like the soft beginning of a song.
Before Jesper could put his hands on the back of Wylan’s neck to pull him closer, Wylan slowly retreated, but not without taking a last second to playfully bite Jesper’s lip. Just to prove a point, Wylan told himself, and it seemed to work, because Jesper let out a surprised gasp.
“I should know better by now than to keep getting surprised by you.” Wylan couldn’t help but grin at the slightly scandalized tone in Jesper’s voice. He started to understand why it could be so much fun to flirt with someone easily flustered. Then he forced his face back to something more serious. As much as he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, he knew he couldn’t and shouldn’t.
“Jes, what happened?” It hurt to see Jesper’s face fall. Jesper turned away and started busying himself again with rearranging the books he had just put back on the shelve.
“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I was trying to sleep, but then of course my mind started wandering. What if something went wrong? What if my father is somewhere out there helpless, while I’m in here, warm and cosy in like the biggest bed I’ve ever seen? And then there is also the whole thing with Matthias and I just don’t know what to do or think.
“So I needed a distraction, but I just couldn’t focus on any of those books. So then I started to get all fidgety again and I just really, really want to go to whatever gambling hall is the closest, but I can’t do that again. I can’t.
“And I think you might be right about the whole Fabrikator thing and that I just need an outlet, because I just couldn’t stop moving and throwing things around and I just want things to be simple, but they’re not, and I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
Jesper’s hands stilled suddenly. They had been rearranging and rearranging and rearranging the books over and over. First on colour, then on size and lastly on what Wylan assumed to be alphabetic order.
“Why are you here?” Jesper had turned around, hands still fidgeting, but his gaze focused and serious. Wylan swallowed and took a few steps closer. He knew it was of no use to focus on Jesper’s problems right now, as much as he preferred to stir away from his own problems. He sat down on the desk next to Jesper before taking a deep breath.
“I couldn’t sleep either. They gave me my old room back, y’know? It’s all redecorated for Alys’s baby. My father’s real heir.”
“You’re his real heir, whether he likes it or not. Just wait until you sign the contract tomorr-“
“I know… I know. Anyway, they set up an extra bed in the room, since the cradle was obviously a bit too small.”
“I doubt that,” Wylan shoved Jesper’s arm with an exasperated grin and Jesper laughed. “C’mon, you cannot seriously think I would let such an opportunity slide?”
“Right… so I was lying in a room that wasn’t mine anymore and I would try to get some sleep but I just kept seeing all these faces. My father’s, Matthias’s, Inej’s, Alys’s, Matthias’s, my father’s.”
“And mine?”
“Yes. Yours too.”
“What did you see.”
Wylan contemplated for a second, before choosing to answer honestly.
“I saw you scared and hurt and ashamed.”
“Sounds about right.”
“I know.”
There was so much left to say, but tonight wasn’t the moment to solve all their problems. It felt good to have said things aloud, but for now that had to be enough. Wylan noticed the way Jesper’s hands had stilled again, this time actually relaxed, and the way his eyes seemed smaller with exhaustion. He got up from the desk and walked over to the couch.
“Anyway, I didn’t want to be alone in that room anymore, and I figured you might have a spare couch I could sleep on.”
Wylan knew that despite everything he still managed to blush over something so simple. He turned his back to Jesper to rearrange the pillows and duvet he had dumped there.
“That is, if you’re okay with that, of course.” He hated how insecure he sounded. I guess I can manage it, Jesper had said, but that didn’t mean that this would be okay.
Mere moments later he felt Jesper beside him, his now steady hands taking the duvet from Wylan’s shaking ones.
“Wy, of course you can stay.” The sincerity in Jesper’s voice startled and calmed Wylan at the same time.
Jesper resolutely lay down the duvet on the couch for the last time. Then he moved in closer and softly pressed a kiss to Wylan’s cheek, before walking back to his own bed.
He made to get in, while Wylan, cheeks burning brightly red, climbed on the couch, but then turned around.
“You know, my offer still stands,” Jesper said, more shyness in his voice than Wylan had ever thought possible, “My bed is more comfortable.”
Okay, so there seemed to be no limit to how much Wylan could blush. He wanted to hide as much as scream. Instead he nodded and grabbed his pillow, making his way over to the opposite side of the bed.
Climbing in he felt the distance that remained between them, not knowing what to do now. Then Wylan felt Jesper’s hand crossing the distance and taking his, tugging at it softly. Tentatively Wylan moved closer, still scared that this fragile thing between them might break, until he was pressed to Jesper’s side, his head resting on his shoulder. Jesper moved the hand he was holding until Wylan’s arm was wound over Jesper’s waist.
Despite his stammering heart, Wylan sighed and let all his aching muscles relax. His ribs still hurt like hell, but he was willing to endure that for this.
“Tell me what’s going to happen tomorrow.” He whispered softly.
“Tomorrow?”
Wylan nodded.
“Well, tomorrow I’m not getting out of bed before noon.”
Wylan chuckled. How predictable, he thought, though he didn’t particularly disagree with the plan.
“And then…” Jesper contemplated for a few seconds, “Then I’m going to take you out for waffles.”
“No way there are any restaurants opened with The Plague on the loose.”
“Then I’m going to have to make them myself, aren’t I?”
That had Wylan lifting himself up to look at Jesper’s face, expecting to see him barely holding in his laughter at the idea, but instead finding all seriousness.
“No way you can make waffles.”
Jesper gasped in mocked offense and pulled Wylan down to lay his head back down on his shoulder.
“Excuse me, I make the best waffles! I am offended that you would think any less of me.”
Wylan couldn’t help let out a small laugh, before shifting to press a soft kiss to Jesper’s jaw.
“I’m sorry.” He murmured against the skin.
A few moments of silence passed, before Jesper spoke again.
“My mother taught me.”
Wylan kept silent, but lightly tapped Jesper’s side to let him know he could continue if he wanted to. It took a few moments, but then he did.
“We would bake constantly. I would help her around the house during the day, while my father was on the fields. I’d help her clean, do the laundry, cook dinner. And whenever we had time left we’d bake whatever we felt like.”
Jesper paused for a second, then smiled fondly.
“Waffles were her favourites,” he nudged Wylan playfully, “so damn right can I make the best waffles you’ll ever taste.”
Wylan smiled and pulled Jesper just a little bit tighter, despite the ache in his ribs.
“Well then, tomorrow you’ll be granting me some of those delicious waffles. Just know that my expectations are very high. My father always made sure to get the best cooks of Ketterdam. I know my waffles.”
He felt Jesper chuckle beneath him and happily closed his eyes, the only images coming to mind now being of a little Jesper and his mother in a kitchen covered in flour, laughing and smiling. Wylan had almost drifted off when he heard Jesper’s voice again.
“Sometimes she didn’t feel like waiting for the waffles, or anything for that matter, to bake. She’d just look at them and they’d be ready.”
Jesper fell silent, but Wylan knew there would be coming more, so he stayed still.
“She said we were blessed.” He finally said, voice barely audible. “Zowa.”
Silence settled in again. They had been blessed, but then Jesper had had to suppress his powers and his life had fallen apart.
“Tomorrow we’ll find you a Fabrikator, so you can train.”
Jesper tensed for a second, but then let his muscles relax again, moving one hand to tangle itself in Wylan’s curls.
“Yes,” he said, more resolutely than Wylan had expected. “Yes, that would be a good idea.”
“Tomorrow we’ll sign the papers and all of this will be truly mine.” It still didn’t sound real.
“Yeah, you might want to fix that hole though.” Wylan laughed.
“Maybe I’ll just sell the house. Leave that whole problem to someone else.”
“Hole problem.” Jesper smirked.
Wylan rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help giggles escaping his throat. He looked up at Jesper, seeing the soft look in his eyes, unguarded and admiring.
Wylan turned on his stomach, with his chin resting on Jesper’s shoulder so he could look at his soft face. He found his eyes sliding over those perfect lips, lingering there for a second, before moving over to the familiarity of Jesper’s grey eyes.
“And you’ll read to me, right?”
“Yes.”
“And we’re going to build this empire from the ground.”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to rule Ketterdam.”
“Yes.”
“And we’re going to get my mother back and she’ll live with us.”
“Yes.”
Wylan’s heart beat faster with every yes. It felt an awful lot like hope, like the promise of happiness, despite everything. And with every yes Jesper sounded more certain, and Wylan felt more certain that this would be his future. Together with Jesper.
“And you’re going to be with me through it all.”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to be my boyfriend.”
A dazzling grin spread across Jesper’s face, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Wylan’s.
“Yes.”
And with that Jesper tilted his face, so his lips could collide with Wylan’s. A warmth started in Wylan’s heart, finding its way to his skin, and just for a moment everything felt right. And with Jesper’s lips pressed to his, he knew they were going to be.
Yes.