“I was glad to help.” Nezael kissed Yorick’s head and then lower to his mouth for a deeper one. Yorick’s hand firmly kept him there until they both mutually had to part. “Rest,” Nezael said and slid off Yorick’s lap. “I’ll return tomorrow with something for the pain.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Yorick smiled at him and Nezael knew then and there, this was all worth it. Damn Bellamy’s worry and whatever his lord might think. Doing this meant something and being here like this was more than the tower had ever given him. Real purpose beyond a vague taking the world back. His lord likely didn’t even know what that meant at this point.

After another chaste kiss, Nezael was out the door and into the blooming twilight to hurry home.

Seven

Arise

And so, on and on winter went. Not always as exciting as the beast in the hill, but Nezael found comfort in that nothing like that happened again. He continued visiting Yorick and—much to his own shock—they didn’t end up naked in bed together every time. Nezael learned various card games from Yorick that he gleefully taught Bellamy to pass the time. He tried to bring Bellamy to the cabin many times so the three of them could play, but the skeleton was insistent someone had to watch the tower. Yorick himself wouldn’t come to the tower again, saying it felt wrong even being there. No matter. Nezael happily spread his time between the two places. He even began trekking his spell book back and forth and soon, Yorick became a good sounding board for the magic spells Nezael was penning. Sure, Yorick never understood the nuances or exactly how it worked, but having someone who happily listened and wouldn’t interrupt him like Bellamy was nice.

It felt too soon when winter began to thaw and early spring flowers bloomed defiant against the frost. Birds returned to the woods, singing their morning songs, and Nezael’s own skeleton bird joined them with its own bone rattle cadence.

Nezael dressed lighter today, glad for the less frigid air, and as he headed down the tower to meet up with Yorick, Bellamy caught him before he left.

“You know what day it is, yes?” Bellamy asked.

Nezael hesitated. It couldn’t be. “I thought there were a few more days.”

“Tonight, everyone will wake by your hand. You must be back before dark. Yes, yes. I know you always are,” Bellamy interrupted Nezael’s thought before he voiced it. “But be back sooner. It takes time rousing everyone and you know it.”

“Of course I will be.” Nezael straightened his cloak and smiled. “I’ve a mind to trudge to town to get one of those spring cakes for our lord. You know how he loves them so.”

Bellamy didn’t look quite convinced that it had been Nezael’s plan all along—it certainly wasn’t—but he wasn’t outright lying. Nezael had intended to purchase the cakes eventually, he just hadn’t thought it’d be so soon. Carrow always brought cakes when he roused the skeletons to reward Nezael for another year together. Nezael figured he could do it too.

And Nezael brightened realizing he didn’t have to do it alone. He had a helper in mind and it would be remiss of him to not properly thank his helper. He just didn’t want to tell Bellamy that. Finally, Bellamy released a low sigh, and patted Nezael’s cheek.

“See to it then, little lord,” he said. “Be back before dusk.”

“I will.”

~

A reward was still a reward, even if it was given

first, right? And it was given so all-encompassing and rigorously, Nezael forgot all about the task at hand, lost in Yorick entirely. Until he roused from an afterglow nap and saw how low the sun was. Then all his plans came back in a rush and he swore, shooting upright on his elbows. The motion jostled Yorick below him and he winced.

“I forgot the cakes,” he breathed.

Yorick made a sleepy sound of his own, blinking blearily, and drew his hand down the curve of Nezael’s back, tracing his skin gently like it would coax him back down.

“Your pillow talk is usually about magic,” Yorick said, drawing Nezael closer even as he tried to untangle himself from Yorick and the sheets. It was almost a useless effort, especially when Yorick’s mouth found his shoulder and happily kissed it all the way up to his neck. “What’s this about cakes?”

Nezael resisted Yorick’s charms and shoved a pillow at him, making him laugh, and Nezael took his chance to crawl over Yorick to get to the edge of the bed. “My lord is waking tonight. I was going to get those spring cakes from town to celebrate.” He wrinkled his nose as he drew his gaze across the dim cabin. “Yorick, why do you always throw my clothes so far?”

Yorick grinned mischievously at him as he put his hands behind his head. “So I can watch you go get them.” He laughed again as Nezael threw the blanket over his head and hurried for his underclothes before Yorick recovered.

He’d just gotten them yanked on when Yorick spoke again, his voice meeker this time without any of the teasing.

“Your lord’s waking tonight?”

Even Nezael heard the unease and tried to ignore it as he glanced back at Yorick. The man wasn’t quite looking up at him like he feared the answer.

“Yes,” Nezael said, sad for the drastic shift in mood. He spotted his leggings over the counter and went to retrieve them. Right, he’d barely gotten in the door before Yorick was upon him and yanking off articles of clothing. “Usually, we’d use this day to rouse the skeletons together, but this time, he needs rousing.” He fastened them and found his shirt on the table. There was a small exhale from Yorick and Nezael peered over as he threw the shirt on. “Is something wrong?”

Yorick had found his own pants and was pulling them on too. No show for Nezael this time. “Nothing, just thinking too hard.” Yorick stood and buttoned his pants. “You’ll still be able to come by?”

“Of course.” Nezael came back and was delighted when Yorick reached out and pressed him as close as they could get. Though Nezael kissed him softly, Yorick leaned in deeper, one hand entangled in Nezael’s hair to keep him there and that left the other wandering down the small of Nezael’s back to squeeze Nezael’s behind. The kiss ended with Nezael giggling. “You can’t tempt me back into bed.” He wiggled out of Yorick’s hands. “Help me find the cakes? The baker loves you more than me.”

“You know I will.”

~

The town was much more alive as the snow melted from its streets. Few outdoor market stalls were open this early in the season, plying crafts made over the long winter. There was an energy here the place had been lacking throughout the winter and for once, Nezael appreciated it. The world was coming alive again.

Like he thought, the baker loved Yorick, but the man also remembered Nezael from before when he came once with Agatha. That was enough to get a warm hello and Nezael was flustered until Yorick and the baker got to talking about what he’d been making.

Spring cakes were always made this time each year. Old ingredients left over from hunkering down in the winter and seasoned with berries only found at the start of spring. The baker parted with four and carefully arranged them together so they would not be mashed by the time Nezael got back to the tower. They smelled so divine, Nezael had to resist sharing them immediately with Yorick. Maybe another time.

They made their leave and rejoined the cold breeze rustling through town. Yorick hurried Nezael through the dwindling streets so close to dusk and up the trail leading to the brambles and thorns the wards were made around. Nezael had strengthened them the week before and no longer could Yorick pass through them on his own. It had to remain this way.

Before Nezael could say goodbye, Yorick had pushed him up to a tree for a deep kiss. Nezael lingered for as long as he dared, entangled within Yorick. They parted breathless too soon and Yorick rested his forehead against Nezael’s.

“You’re acting like I’ll be gone forever,” Nezael said.

“I know you won’t be, but now you’ll have other duties too and I’ll have to share you.” Yorick’s blue eyes were twinkling from the way the sun set around the forest. “Promise me you’ll come down like you used to. We can find spring herbs together.”

“I will forevermore.” Nezael softly kissed Yorick and drew back before it could go any farther. “I might even have a skeleton in tow.”

“I’d love to meet them.” Yorick released Nezael from the tree and squeezed his hand. “See you soon, then?”

Nezael smiled at him, all warm and tingly inside. “Soon, I promise.” He kissed Yorick’s knuckles gently and loved the way it made Yorick’s lips stretch in a soft smile.

With a gentle wave, Nezael stepped through the ward. It obscured Yorick on the other side where all Nezael could see was the shape of his body. No doubt to Yorick, Nezael would have simply disappeared into the brambles and thorns. He lingered until Yorick’s form turned away and then he hurried on his way. No more dallying; he had his lord to rouse this night.

Upon his return, Bellamy didn’t bother to hide his exasperation from how close Nezael was cutting it, and he immediately got to work. First, he set up the dining hall with the cakes and took care in choosing one of his lord’s wines to start the year right. It would have been nice to share a bottle with Yorick, now that Nezael thought about it, but as soon as the idea surfaced, he shook it away. Focus, he told himself.

Bellamy had taken it upon himself to find the enchanted decanter for the rousing potion and Nezael gathered the life blossoms from Isabella’s stores. She was the first to be roused, as always. Bellamy assisted, unwrapping her bones delicately, and Nezael crushed a life blossom before mixing it with a cup of rousing potion. He tipped it gently into her skull and it never spilled out. Instead, like magic, the mixture poured into her very bones to reinvigorate what magic was stored within. Lastly, with a magic upon his breath, Nezael breathed into Isabella. The skeleton’s magic awoke, filling her with life stored away during the winter.

The process wasn’t hard and Nezael had seen it first-hand so many times assisting his lord, but he’d forgotten just how many skeletons there were. Many he couldn’t remember the names of alongside the few of his inner circle who exclusively cared for him. His magic renewed them all, just like Carrow’s had done before, but Nezael’s own body began to tremble in response from an overtaxing of magic. His vision waned with each new breath, pain wound its way through every inch of his body as he forced his magic to work, and all he wanted to do was rest. Except he couldn’t. He forced himself to stay awake, deal with the pain.

By the time he made it upward to his lord, last as Bellamy had dictated, he was shaking so much, Bellamy had to help him up the steps.