“We’ll still be working together,” Hendrik pointed out, trying not to look too smug about being wanted here. To think he’d been afraid, when he’d first met them. As it turned out, each and every member of Dagan’s family, apart from Alonza, of course, was as warm and impossible not to like as Dagan himself. Well, almost. No one was as easy to like as Dagan. Alexia and Erron in particular gave it a try, though.
“What made you want to work with goats?” Helen asked in her sweet, quiet voice. She was the next oldest, after Alonza, and had a definite touch of mother about how she dealt with her other siblings. Not so with Hendrik, however, whom she’d immediately taken to gossiping and socializing with on a regular basis. He gathered that her trust was not won easily—she’d had hurts in her short life that he could sympathize with entirely—and tried not to be too smug about that, either.
“It was sheep, actually,” Dagan cut in, lips already purple with wine. “One night, back in the City, he wouldn’t stop going on and on about sheep, of all things. I don’t even know if he’d seen a sheep.”
“I’d seen sheep,” Hen protested, waving for another pitcher of warm wine while he had a server’s eye. “They have them in the Ag District for winter wool.”
“But the idea of us having sheep was a fever dream entirely. His leg was about to come off, and it had him babbling about the strangest things,” Dagan said. “That and bears.”
“Okay, now you know I’ve seen a bear,” Hen pointed out. “One near killed us.”
“It did no such thing,” Dagan said with mock-indignation. “Ah! There you are; we’re wasting away, over here.”
Nika, the sibling just older than Alexia and Erron, was a pleasantly plump teenager with a voice like a nightbird and eyes the same sunshine-honey shade as Dagan’s. They were currently overladen with a tray of winter delicacies from various spots around the hall, where vendors had set up for the night. “You could’ve helped,” they protested as they settled the tray in front of Helen.
Dagan snatched at something on the tray; Helen smacked his hand so he pulled it back and yelped. “Nika first, since they did all the work!” Helen scolded.
Nika threw their hair over their shoulder in a flounce that was remarkably Dagan-esque, then plopped down beside Hendrik. “It’s Hen’s first Full Cold Moon, so he can pick first.”
Dagan groaned in mock-annoyance, eyes flashing with amusement. He absolutely loved that his siblings loved Hendrik, which made it all the more entertaining to be surrounded by them like this. It almost made Hen rethink the move to the Paw Paw Grove Conservancy…but then he thought of their little cabin in the Wildcrafter settlement, theirs alone, and how delightful it’d been. And he knew the move was right.
“These are walnut cakes—not as good as our mother’s but don’t tell that to the lady handing them out; she’s very proud.” Nika pointed at a stack of round, palm-sized spongy-things. “This is goat cheese with winter berries, which is my personal favorite, and it’s very nice with the cakes. These are toasted pine nuts with lavender honey from last spring, and they’re very nice with this hard sheep’s cheese, too. This is a sorrel salad with beetroot and preserved citrus, that’s Helen’s favorite, I know. Here’s a…”
Hen tried each of the endless dishes and refilled his mug of wine several times, growing warmer and warmer from the inside out as he watched Dagan’s family circle their table, hug and kiss friends and distant relations, then circle back for more food and conversation and hot, spiced wine. The hall smelled of exotic wood and delicious food and smoke, with that touch of frost in the air every time someone opened the door to join the festivities. As the night wove on, more musicians joined Tiber on the platform, and dancers started to clear a square before them.
In spite of being far bigger than the Grain Moon celebration Hen had witnessed, this one felt more intimate, closer, cozier. Perhaps because it was indoors; perhaps because he knew so many of these people, and the ones that he didn’t know knew who he was, at least. Dagan’s mother brought him a cup of wine and reminded him she had several jugs for them to take to the Paw Paw Grove when they left, and not to forget. She patted his face like he was just another of her brood, told him he was handsome and sweet, and then kissed him on the forehead, even though he had to set aside his crutch and duck to let her do it.
When he turned to look for Dagan again, he found him talking to a short, pretty woman with a flushed face. At first, he thought the woman was flirting—which, fair enough. But then he saw Dagan had his hand on her belly, hers covering it. And they were both laughing.
Dagan glanced up and caught his gaze, then said something to the woman. She laughed again and waved at Hendrik, who waved back. Dagan pointed to the family table, which was almost abandoned for the moment, and Hen nodded and started that way.
Dagan arrived with a fresh pitcher of hot wine and started pouring. “You won’t believe who that was: Mina.”
Hen racked his brain. He’d learned a lot of new names in the last two moons. That one escaped him.
“The girl who wanted me to settle down with her and make pretty babies?”
“Oh!” Hen searched the room for her again, and found her dancing with a handsome, burly young man. “Oh, she works as fast as you do, I see.”
“She does!” Dagan slid a mug to him and settled in by his side. “Already made a partner out of Marsh and has a baby on the way.”
“Sounds awful,” Hen replied cheerfully, raising his cup.
“Now, now, some people settle down for goats, some for babies.” Dagan waved his own mug. His color was high, giving him a jewel-like, amber cast that Hen always found irresistible. Those cheekbones could cut a man to death, but gods, they were beautiful.
“Are you drunk, you beautiful menace?” Hen asked.
“Absolutely. Why aren’t you?”
“I ate too much.”
“Just have to drink more,” Dagan said reasonably, lifting his own mug again. “It’s nice to see a happy ending for her. I didn’t feel bad turning her down, exactly. But it’s nice to know it really was just a little bump in her road and nothing too harrowing.”
This from the man who wanted, more than anything else, for someone to want him. And yet, it wasn’t quite that simple with Dagan; plenty of people had wanted him. Plenty still did, if some of the looks he got in this winery were any indication. But did any of them want him for him? Not for some ideal he portrayed or part he played?
Hendrik didn’t know, honestly, but he knew he wanted Dagan. And Dagan was his. And seeing as the Blue Bird had begun to recover, which meant the Heart Wood might also recover, they could have a very, very good run at growing old together. Against all odds to the contrary, when they’d first met.
“I somehow doubt you’ve ever been a bump in anyone’s road,” Hen leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “But I’m glad if she’s not hurt. Because she can’t have you.”
Dagan licked his lips and leaned into him. “Mmm, I do love it when you get growly like that.”
“I know.” Hendrik laughed and nuzzled at his ear. “All this talk of past lovers, you can’t blame me for wanting to remind you of my more interesting qualities, can you?”
“Oh, please, I might’ve fucked half the settlement, but none of them fell like your conquests, darling.” Dagan turned to face him, throwing his legs over Hen’s lap, then reached up to poke at the end of Hen’s nose. “No wonder. Look at this face.”
Hen barked out another laugh, surprised. “What conquests? I mean, Kass was mine, but seeing as we were stuck together from the age of twelve, I’m not sure he can count as—”
“I should’ve told you about Jak before.” Dagan sighed and shook his head.
“What about him?”
“That offer he made you, to keep him, you said? That was not just so he could fuck his way to power through you.”
“What? How much did you drink?”
“He told me, darling. He said not to tell you until we left. Are you annoyed that I didn’t?” A sudden look of genuine concern clouded Dagan’s big, beautiful eyes.
“No! I mean, I don’t even know what you’re telling me, exactly, but no.”
