A/N: Hey! So this fic is one I've been working on for a little bit, trying to get a little ahead in the chapters before I started posting it because I can be a slow writer sometimes, but with everything that's been happening I've been desperate for something to read so I decided to just go for it and post. Even if no one reads this, at least I'll have it up for me.
I wake up to blinding sunlight. I open my eyes slowly, squinting, my hands pulling my blankets tight to my chest as I sit up. Someone has flung open the door to my family's tent, and now they're standing tall in the entrance.
I shift, moving just enough so the intruder's wings block the sun from my eyes. Blinking, I take in the intruder's face.
"Rayna," barks a gruff voice, "What are you doing still in bed?" I stretch my arms and wings wide, my eyes finding the roof of the tent as my wings unfurl.
"Good morning, Miller. How was your sleep?"
"Can't quite remember, Ray. I woke up hours ago. Speaking of which, you were supposed to be up then too. Our mothers are just about ready to kill you for shirking your chores."
Snorting, I reach out a hand to let Miller pull me to my feet.
The two of us walk through the camp, Illyrians bustling back and forth as the sun rises slowly in the sky, almost at its peak.
"Gods," I mutter, nudging Miller, "You decided to wait until noon to wake me?"
"But you look so cute when you're sleeping," He jokes. Miller starts taking bigger strides, forcing me to jog to keep up with him.
"Bum," I hiss in his ear, breaking into a run and racing past him. It doesn't take Miller long to catch up with me (I would be disappointed if it had), and then the two of us are sprinting side by side through camp as we make our way to where our mothers are waiting for us.
True, we were about to go catch up on missed chores, but in this moment, we forget about anything that exists outside the wind in our hair. I have to admit, running is one of my favourite things to do, second only to flying.
As we approach one of the bigger war tents and round its corner, the tent where our mothers were waiting comes up much too fast. I slow my pace in time, but with his long legs propelling him forward, Miller barrells straight into the canvas of the tent.
I freeze, clapping a hand over my mouth as cries boom out from the tent. Half of it had collapsed on the people inside and old females were filing out of the other side of the tent. Miller, face bright red, sits on top of the tent as his mother starts shouting at him in an ancient Illyrian tongue. Miller's mother came from a camp residing much further north, and she had raised Miller to speak both languages.
"Ma," He says quietly before continuing to speak in the other language. Unable to hold it in any longer, I snort. Miller shoots me a glare before pulling his mother aside to continue speaking with her.
I feel a hand settle on my shoulder and I jump, my wings flaring, before realizing it's my mother. She and a handful of the older Illyrians came to watch Ellary chew out Miller while the younger girls all start on fixing the tent.
"That was something," My mother whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Want to tell me what, exactly, the two of you were thinking?" I shrug and open my mouth to speak when Ellary switches back to a language I understand.
"No! Leave it!" She shouts at the girls who had started fixing the tent. "If stupid-face here wants to knock it down, he can clean up his own mess."
When Miller stands still, staring at his mother, she smacks him on the shoulder and barks, "Move it!" With a snort, my mother leads me away.
"Come on. You still have laundry to do down by the river." I follow her down a hill to the small stream that runs through our camp and let out a groan when I behold the piles of clothing for me to wash. My mother smirks.
"You'd better get started, huh?"
That night, I stride up the steps to Miller's cabin, a satchel with a change of clothes inside tucked under my arm. Brecken, Miller's father, is the brother of our camp's war-lord, putting Miller's family in a place of significant power. Whenever I can convince my mother to let me go, I spend the night at Miller's cabin. All my parents are entitled to live in is a small tent, which is becoming more and more cramped every passing day.
I walk right inside without bothering to knock on the door.
"Hey," I call out. I've known Miller so long he doesn't even bother to look up from where he's seated on the sofa, a book sitting on his lap. Plopping down next to him, my eyes snag on his, following his gaze, not to the book on his lap, but to the fire burning in front of us. I glance at his face, taking in his blank expression. It's not going to be a good night. I set my satchel down next to me on the couch.
"Have you eaten yet?" I say quietly. I reach over and lift the book off his lap, slipping his bookmark onto the right page before closing it gently.
"I… I had breakfast and then…" He trails off, trying to remember.
"We ate lunch together," I say softly, taking hold of his hand. "Have you had any supper?"
"No," He says, voice barely above a whisper but sure this time.
"Okay then. Let's go eat." I stand, still clutching his hand, and lead him towards the kitchen. Miller sits on a barstool, his gaze once again drifting off.
"What do you want?" I ask, trying to make my voice sound cheerful. Miller just shakes his head.
"Anything is fine." I grin, walking over to the cupboards.
"Pizza it is, then."
20 minutes later, I set two pizzas down on the table. One is chicken pesto with tomatoes (my personal favourite) and the other is the iconic yet simple pepperoni and cheese.
Miller's older sister Kaia was mated to a male of very high status in the Dawn Court, and so she spent a lot of her time travelling, even to the continent. One of the many foods she brought back with her was pizza.
Every time she visits, she makes pizza dough, a base for Miller and I to add on to whenever we're not in the mood to spend 3 hours making 'traditional Illyrian' meals.
Miller sits down in his usual chair and Ellary walks in just as I start slicing into the pizzas.
"Don't tell me you're eating that stuff again," She says when she sees the pizzas, "I don't trust anything Kaia-bee brings back from that damned continent, and all those sauces and that dough are taking up space in my kitchen."
"Well if you think about it," I say, "Every time we eat pizza, we clear out more room." Ellary huffs her reluctant agreement, giving Miller's shoulder a quick squeeze before heading upstairs. Miller's gaze follows his mother as she makes her way upstairs, a small smile on his face.
"You doing better?" I ask gently. His gaze flicks to me, and he nods ever so slightly. "Good," I say with an over-exaggerated sigh that makes Miller's smile grow into something genuine, "because I am NOT in the mood to sleep in a tent tonight."
He starts laughing, putting down his slice of pizza so he doesn't drop it. "No, I'm serious," I say, getting louder. "Ma snores when she's pregnant, and I swear on the cauldron, it's getting worse with every passing day."
We kept bouncing back and forth until our laughter was booming inside the cabin. Ellary storms downstairs to shush us.
"You're sweet, you really are sweet," She says when she reaches us, "But Brecken's nearly home and it hasn't been a good day for him." At the mention of his father, Miller's eyes hit the floor.
"Rayna," Ellary says, turning to me, "If you're not comfortable spending the night…"
"I'll be fine," I say, shaking my head. I can't leave Miller alone, not tonight.
"Well then, you two had better start setting up Miller's room." She says, nodding towards the steps. Miller stalks over and up the staircase and with a small smile and nod to Ellary, I quickly run after back to the living room.
I follow Miller upstairs into the last door down the hall after snatching my bag off the sofa. "I'll be right back," Miller says, leaving the room to get a mattress from the attic. I toss my things on a chair by Miller's desk, down by the foot of his bed.
When we were younger, Miller and I would sleep in the same bed. Around the age of 11, his parents deemed it 'inappropriate' for that to continue. I know Miller and I would have been fine with it, but we agreed that one of us should sleep on a mattress on the floor, and that's what we've been doing for the past 5 years, alternating every time.
I take a seat on his bed, my eyes scanning the room, taking in the changes. For the first few months of Ma's pregnancy, I'd hardly left her side, so I haven't slept at Miller's in a while.
There are just as many books on Miller's shelf as the last time I'd been here, if not more. His closet is still neatly organized, all his leathers properly folded. There's a new paper hanging above his bed, a sketch comparing 3 sets of Illyrian, Peregryn and Seraphim wings. Ever since Kaia came back with her stories, Miller had been obsessed with the prospect of the Peregryn and Seraphim peoples, so impossibly similar to us and yet utterly mysterious at the same time.
I take a hesitant step closer to the sketch. I stand on my toes, trying to get a better view of the poster when Miller strides into the room with a bundle of sheets in his hands.
"Wanna help me carry in the mattress?"
Miller and I have barely finished setting up a mattress on the floor when we hear Brecken storm in through the front door. Miller sucks in a sharp breath.
"We should probably go downstairs," He says sharply, "Let him know you're here so he doesn't do anything stupid." I nod, and the two of us head downstairs.
When we reach the ground floor, Ellary and Brecken are seated at the long cedar dining table, eating an Illyrian dish Ellary must have made up while Miller and I were upstairs. Miller clears his throat as the two of us reach the bottom of the stairs.
"Rayna," Brecken says, nodding.
"Lord Brecken," I answer, bowing my head.
"Come. Sit!" He smiles, eyes crinkling, beckoning us over to the table. It wasn't a genuine smile on his face. He was just like Kaia. In a real smile, their noses would crinkle too, but his nose stays smooth as he invites us to eat. He doesn't want me here.
"We actually just ate," Miller says.
"Well then, just sit and talk!" He laughs.
Hesitant at his father's 'good' mood, Miller approaches the table with me right on his heels. Miller pulls out a chair for me across from Ellary, sitting to my right, across from his father. Miller pours us both a glass of water.
An uneasy silence settles over the four of us. I feel an itch creep up my spine, and I'm hit by the urge to say something. Anything to break the silence. Ellary catches my eye, giving a slight shake of her head.
"How were the meetings today?" Miller asks. I see Ellary flinch, eyes flitting warily to her husband. He seems unbothered, but appearances can be deceiving.
"It was a mess," Brecken says gruffly of the meeting, "We've been scrambling to keep things in order and the High Lord won't even deign to see us. Instead, he sends that bastard general of his to his job for him."
"What's wrong? What's so important you want to speak with the High Lord about it? You hate when he's here," Miller says.
"These creatures have been coming up from the south. We've never seen anything like them. Amaruq claims they're native to Hybern, but… how would they have gotten here?"
"Is it possible they came with-"
"No, no, that's enough," Ellary barks, cutting off Miller, "None of this talk at the table. No creatures, no mysteries, not while I'm trying to eat my dinner. Kids, go back upstairs. When he's talking, Miller, your father forgets to eat. Shoo, leave him be."
Shooting Ellary a grateful smile, I follow Miller upstairs, and spend the rest of the night pondering the creatures Brecken was talking about.