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He’s cold, despite the late summer heat. His magic drains more of his life force every time he uses it, and the only thing that helps is human contact. Yet that same magic drives everyone away.
Unfortunately for Wyatt, the nearest route to the inn is beyond the pair of them. He has to walk right past them to get out, and just as he’s passing them, Shae says, deadpan, “Boo.” Wyatt jumps half out of his skin and sprints the rest of the way to the inn.
When Arthur stands trial after his penance, he needs to be able to say with a clean heart, under the truth spell, that all he has done has been righteous. Dallying with darkness won’t look good on his record at all. Even if darkness is extremely attractive when he smiles.
Duchess is the first creature he’s met in ten years who hasn’t flinched at the sight of him. She doesn’t know he’s a necromancer, and she doesn’t care.
The contradictions shouldn’t be a surprise; necromancers are supposed to be weird. The surprising part is that Arthur wants to figure him out.
Maybe Arthur’s sworn to Vara to always be polite even to disgusting dark mages. Maybe the Radiant Order only accepts helpful human-shaped herding dogs.
The wound is shallow, and it’s already stopped bleeding. Arthur winds a length of bandage around Shae’s arm anyway. It’s the principle of the thing. If Shae won’t take care of himself, Arthur will do it for him.
“Have you kissed anyone before?” he asks, running his thumb over Shae’s lip. Shae’s eyes dart away. “What kind of idiot would kiss a necromancer?” “In my defense,” Arthur says, “you’re a very attractive necromancer.” “Definitely an idiot,” Shae says.
He covers Shae’s mouth and swallows down every breath, every whimper he can get. Shae kisses back like a starving man, and Arthur wonders how he ever thought the necromancer was cold at heart.
“Are you sure?” Arthur grins. “People usually think the uniform is dashing.” “It’ll look more dashing on the floor.” “I’ll trust your judgment,” Arthur says,
He doesn’t like being near people who hate him. He doesn’t like thinking that other paladins might be around with a claim on Arthur’s time and attention. At least instead of just being anxious, now he’s well-fucked and anxious.
Arthur’s annoyance is a little rich, Shae thinks as he sits back down, considering that Arthur also once used a truth spell on him without warning. Maybe the rules are different for necromancer’s you’ve fucked
Shae winces, fists tightening. His entire body feels like—well, he feels like he fell off a horse a few times, got strangled by dead people, and walked a few frozen miles his parents’ graves.
Panicking, Shae covers Arthur’s mouth with both hands. “Before you ask anything of the sort,” he says sternly, “we both need baths, and you need to see a healer. I can’t think about anything in this condition.” Arthur laughs under his hands. Kisses his palm. “Fair enough. Will you take the ring now anyway?” Shae feels himself flushing. “Yes,” he says, the warmth tickling through his veins. “Yes, okay.”
