He was in the clearing again, but there were no people this time, all he could feel was the heat of the fire around him and a hand reaching out towards him. The air was suffocating, his lungs were burning as he screamed, again and again—

"I should stop drinking," Aleci muttered, bolting upright and rubbing his temples. It was dark outside, just dark enough to be visited by shameful memories.

Finne was stirred next to him, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Aleci?"

"Go back to sleep," said Aleci, falling back to the bed with a thud.

Instead Finne sat up and rubbed at his eyes. His mouth twitched and he swallowed convulsively before leaning back on the headboard and closing his eyes.

"Do you want the room to yourself?"

Two proper meals seemed to have put color back into Finne's cheeks. "What?" said Finne, confused.

"Room," repeated Aleci, reaching for the tablet to scrawl a brief outline of the villa, and pointing to their current bedroom. "I can move to my father's room—" he would prefer harsh memories of Galer than the nightmares of Ilos burning. "Do you want me to move, I woke you up didn't I?"

Finne blinked at him, "You sleep here?" he said, indicating to their bed, "You want me to—"

"No," interjected Aleci, "I mean—" he struggled to find the words, to explain why he'd just woken in a cold sweat and decided there were no words to explain himself. A lie then, he could settle for a lie, "You like Olus, I thought it... would be simpler, to have him close by. So I don't have to bribe him to go away."

The corners of Finne's mouth twitched, "You want to play Latrunculi?" He even mimed covering his ears.

"I don't mind," said Aleci, amused. "It makes you happy, does it?" Finne flushed and turned away and he took the opportunity to lean in, "Well? Do you want me to leave?"

"I want you to spar with me," a pause, and a half-smile. "And win. I'm not Olus, I can lose."

"You want me to win?" said Aleci, incredulously. He rather thought Finne enjoyed beating him.

"Yes," Finne insisted, "You win."

"It's a bit difficult task, you know, you are good," said Aleci.

He had never really cared for sparring. Which from Galer's perspective was a failure in character and from the Alyssians who worshiped Gharsius, their God of war, a failure in manhood. Aleci scoffed, why would he take advice from the priests who were truly the epitome of the things they preached. It had been years since he'd set foot in one of their perfumed temples but his memory was just as sharp as the day he was presented with the sword of a legionnaire. The priest had droned on and on about the order of things and people in the proper places.

Well, he would like one of Gharsius's own try showing Finne his place. He had a very strong inkling that beating, physically beating Finne, would do anything to teach Finne his place. There was that pent up anger-frustration that would no doubt spill over eventually. He would know how that was a deadly combination. Maybe his father was a good matchmaker after all, when he'd paired both of them together.

But he was going off track from the topic at hand, he had never thought about beating Finne in their duels, victory in battle never bought him the sweet joy that it did to his father. How would he actually beat Finne? From what he'd seen of his wife, Finne was much too fast and agile, there was no way he could catch him off balance with what he'd been taught. It was possible, but he'll leave an opening, and he'd seen what happened when Finne saw an opening in an opponent. There was that move Finne had done to Praefect Damon, grabbing his sword and pinning him to the ground, but Aleci doubted he could perform the move against Finne. Never beat a master with his own sword, as they say. Well, there was one thing he could try, mirroring Finne's moves and wait for an opening. It would be difficult, he'd seen Oppius try it once before the old man gave up and resorted to his earlier experience. He doubted his feet was nimble enough to keep up the strategy for long, but he only needed to be lucky once, that was the thing with duels. Perhaps he could even pray to Mytea, and that made him grin grimly.

"Are you done?" said Finne, miming thinking, he had Aleci's tunic in his hand.

"Yes," said Aleci, surprised when Finne made to dress him, "Thank you."

Finne grinned, and, to Aleci's surprise, leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He made to pull away, but Aleci stopped him, "Wait, if I beat you, come to the bathhouse with me."

"A bribe?" said Finne, brightly.

"Yes," said Aleci, holding out his hand.

Finne stared at his hand, confused.

"Do you not do handshakes in Imruk?" said Aleci.

"Yes... but. I'm—"

«I am not a Sionadh,» said Aleci, noticing the twitch of Finne's lips when he said the word. "I want to shake your hand Finne, will you do the same?" He saw conflicting emotions dancing across Finne's face before his hand was seized in the familiar callused grip.

"Win. Properly."

"Properly," he agreed, though when Finne's back was turned he rolled his eyes.

He shouldn't have been surprised to see Olus awake and waiting for them at the training grounds. The boy wasn't carrying his sword, though he'd somehow gotten the shed open and was twirling a training staff with both hands.

"Good morning Master Aleci," he smiled at Finne, «Can we train, please, „mamaí?"»

«Only the forms. You can't hit me.»

Olus's eyes flickered towards Finne's stomach, «Are you going to have—»

«Yes.»

«With him?»

That was one way to deal with children, Aleci observed wryly, just give the briefest answer when possible. He doubted it worked on Olus, but if Finne wanted to be an optimist he wouldn't stop him.

«Yes.»

«He plays Latrunculi with me. I like that. Do you like him?»

«Are you here to practice or are you here to ask questions?»

«Practice!»

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«You'd have to wait. I am going to duel with Aleci.»

Olus gave Aleci a speculative look, "Should I bring you a staff Dominus Aleci?" he said.

"Go ahead," said Aleci, even he suspected the polite tones were more show than sincerity.

The conversation Olus had with Finne was unlike the Imrukian Finne spoke with Maera. For one, it had odd emphasizes and drawn out syllables, and had less hand gestures than when he'd watch Maera speak with Finne. But it could just be that the older woman liked gesticulating. He didn't remember how his father sounded speaking Imrukian. Probably hissed out all his words like an angry goose, in all likelihood.

"What did you talk about?" he asked Finne, holding a hand to his ear, "It sounds different. Not Imrukian."

It was Finne's turn to look speculative, "It is Imrukian." he said, finally, "But not low Imurkian. High Imrukian." He indicated the latter by spreading out his hands.

"Oh," said Aleci, so Brissa was right. "I see."

"You want to learn this too?" said Finne, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes?" said Aleci.

"Learn Imrukian," said Finne. "High Imrukian is... different. Very different."

"I see." said Aleci.

He made to say more, but Olus came back with the training staff. The boy held it out to him expectantly.

"Are you going to win?" said Olus, looking expectant.

"I don't know," he replied, and Olus's eyes grew wide at the statement.

«He doesn't want to win,» Olus proclaimed to Finne. «He's so... strange.»

«Aren't you stranger for wanting to win all the time?»

«But I'm good! »exclaimed Olus, «I always win!»

«You can't be good at everything.»

Olus huffed loudly at the last statement, crossing his arms, he turned his back to them, before climbing the fence to watch.

„Is he talk about to win again?" said Aleci, struggling with the last words.

Finne nodded, and shrugged, „I liked winning when I was his age."

„His age?" asked Aleci.

„Seven," said Finne, and then, seeing the confusion on Aleci's face, held out his hands to indicate seven, "Seven, you ask for his age?"

Did Maera even tell Aleci Olus's age with such abandon? Aleci frowned. The sun hadn't risen completely but already his head was pounding. "Did you know him before?" said Aleci, blurting out the question that came to mind.

Finne spun around staff in hand, "Stop talking. Spar with me."

"Finne—"

He barely said an acknowledgement before Finne's staff met his. As he predicted, Finne was fast on his feet. And, as he predicted, he couldn't possibly match the dizzying pace. It was better to side step his attacks. So he did, concentrating on keeping his balance and his staff in hand than blocking Finne's hits. It was painful, obviously, Finne didn't exactly temper his hits, but after several thuds on his ankles and arms, he figured out the pattern. Side step, side step, stab, block and side step. It wasn't done in precisely that order, but he did promise to win did he?

They were close enough that he could see Finne's eyes widened when he realized Aleci was matching his movements. Aleci grinned widely, if only Galer could see him now. It was a pattern that he could recognize, and he felt a twinge of pride at his rare show of skill. Finne made to stab him and he ducked out of the way, and for a moment he saw FInne's eyes widened, he made a hesitant step backward and — there was that opening. It was a quick jab, fast and graceless but Finne's staff flew from his hands and landed with a thud nearby.

"You won." said Finne, looking impressed, all the while rubbing at the hand that Aleci had struck.

"Didn't that hurt?" said Aleci, moving to take a look at where he'd hit Finne's wrist.

"No?" said Finne, puzzled, when Aleci took his wrist to feel for any damage.

It was the first time he'd properly looked at Finne's arms. The one time he'd grabbed at Finne's hands didn't end quite well. There were fine white lines on his fingers, and his forearms also had the same white fading lines.

"You win!" exclaimed Olus, running up to them, "How?"

Finne jerked his hands away and crossed them. Defensively, Aleci thought, frowning.

«Because he's patient, and you're not—»

«I am patient. I'm the most patient person. I am!» It was accompanied with firm foot stomp.

Finne laughed softly, shaking his head. «Why don't you prove it to me then?» Here he leaned forward, and the look upon his face could only spell mischief, «Bring me the one-eyed tom. Then you'll be the most patient person in this villa. The best sailor.»

«I'll bring him back, you'll see!» There was an utmost seriousness on Olus's face and before Aleci could blink Olus had already clumsily vaulted off the fence and ran away.

"What did you say?" said Aleci, then deciding he ought to try, „What you say?"

Finne shook his head, grinning. He picked up a stick on the ground and drew the black tom, „I told him to bring it to me."

For some reason the tom was sitting on the prow of a ship as well."Is that a ship?" Aleci questioned, gesturing towards the drawing and when Finne gave him a confused look, took the stick to draw what he thought was a passable boat.

„Ship," agreed Finne looking down at the drawing.

„I win," Aleci said, and Finne was close enough that he could reach out and take his hand. "Bathhouse?" If he was courtly and Praefect material he would have kissed it. As it was, he gave Finne a smile he hoped was genuine.

There were two spots of color on Finne cheeks that he knew wasn't from the sparring. Aleci made to say something about it, to touch Finne cheek but he was interrupted.

"It must be nice to be married," Mercus waved to Aleci and Finne from his perch on the fence, "Good morning, Domina Finne. I see you're feeling better," said the young guard, looking privately amused at the whole affair, "And I must say, Dominus Aleci, you're quite good with your staff."

His raised eyebrow suggested that there was more to the statement, and Finne's laughter only confirmed it.

"We're leaving." said Aleci, shortly flushing red.

"Enjoy the bathhouse!" Mercus called after them, "I cut all the wood to heat that up."

There was something exchanged between Mercus and Finne that he couldn't quite understand. The last time Finne had mentioned Mercus was when he read the poem. "Is this why the „poem" was so... funny?"

Finne frowned, and made to put a distance between them, "You do not like the „poem"?"

"No," said Aleci, rolling his eyes. The poem, now that he thought about it was more of a mockery of the pompous kind of manhood than the celebration of adultery. If there was a thing he agreed with Galer, it was that one simply did not commit adultery on the sly as everyone very well knew, there were women and men in Alyssa one couldn't refuse. "I am not a «Sionadh» Finne." That was the simplest explanation he could give. Then he offered Finne another smile, and gestured towards the bathhouse door.

Finne gave him a once over, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he said, "Aleci, I don't want Mercus. I want," he took a deep breath, and his exhale blew away a stray curl from his face. "I want you."

"Oh," said Aleci. The bathhouse steam, at least helpfully disguised his blush. He stepped forward to help Finne pull off his tunic, "You do?"

Finne hovered uncertainly when Aleci pulled off his tunic. There was a softness to his chest that wasn't there before, Aleci thought, his nipples looked darker against his pale skin. He wasn't sure if they were breasts, the hetairikos didn't have children. The Mytusi that were married or mistress to Magisters wouldn't nurse infants, that was a barrier to having more. From the way Finne shuddered when he cupped them, and the soft whimper when he sucked at them with his mouth, they were definitely sensitive.

"Oh, Aleci!" gasped Finne, digging one hand into Aleci's hair, pulling him close with the other.

Aleci made short work of undressing Finne, tossing the smallclothes aside, mouthing at Finne's nipples as he did so. When he reached between Finne's legs, gently probing under his balls, his fingers came back wet and dripping. The few experimental thrusts he made with his fingers elicit more cries of pleasure from Finne, Aleci could feel his wife's rising cock against his body.

„Take it off," said Finne, pulling at Aleci's clothes.

"Gladly," said Aleci, pulling away to undo his belt and pulling off his tunic and tossing it aside. His smallclothes soon followed.

Finne looked at him with hooded eyes, cheeks pink. His gaze flickered to Aleci's face and then lower before he glanced away.

"Like what you see?" Aleci smirked, and stepped towards Finne as slowly as he could. He was right in doing so, Finne's gaze flew to the door, then to Aleci and back again. "Shh..." said Aleci, holding out his hands, palms up, "I won't pin you, relax," he reached out to place one of Finne's arm over his shoulder, "Hold on."

Finne looked deeply skeptical at his suggestion, but put his other arm around Aleci's shoulder, interlacing his fingers.

"Your leg—" said Aleci, reaching to pull Finne's leg to his own hip.

Finne caught on to what he wanted, and soon he could feel both of Finne's heels digging into his back. It was an athletic position to say the least, he'd only ever did it a handful of times, though not being drunk certainly helped. He cupped the back of Finne's head with his left arm, reaching down with his right to direct his own cock into Finne. Finne hissed softly when his cock entered him, though it soon turned into gasps of pleasure when Aleci reached down with his now free hand to stroke Finne's cock alongside the thrust of his hips. He could feel beads of sweat running down his forehead, whether from the heat of the bathhouse or from effort, he couldn't say. Finne dropped his head on Aleci's right shoulder, murmuring broken words and pleas into his skin. He could feel Finne's teeth graze his shoulder, and then pull away.

"Go ahead," panted Aleci. "Bite me. You want to, don't you?" he felt several hitching breaths against his skin, and he said again, encouragingly, "Go on, go on—" It was his turn to hiss, feeling the pain-pleasure of the burn on his shoulder and the tightness of Finne's body around his cock. "Oh, fuck, Finne." He could smell the metallic tang of blood, and the warmth of it trailing down his shoulder as he shuddered and came inside Finne's body. Breathless from the orgasm, he barely registered Finne's hand reaching down along his to pull at his own cock. He could feel Finne's full body shudders as he came, splattering Aleci's stomach with his come.

"Were you a cat, before?" said Aleci, after he recovered, lowering Finne's feet back to the ground, and turning his head to look at the still bleeding wound.

"Sorry," said Finne, looking embarassed, "Sorry, I didn't—"

"It's fine—" said Aleci, waving his apologies aside, and reaching for a towel to staunch the bleeding. "I did ask."

Finne looked uncertainly at him, his hands seemed caught between wanting to help him with the bite wound and twisting nervously into fists at his side.

"You... like this?" said Finne, uncertainly, his gaze flickering from Aleci's shoulder to his face, as if looking for some unknown emotion.

"Why wouldn't I?" said Aleci, raising an eyebrow. "You enjoyed it, didn't you?" Finne bit his lips, looking oddly vulnerable and didn't answer. Not that Aleci expected him to, Finne liked to keep his own silences and he would respect that. "Come bathe with me," said Aleci, "Aren't you cold standing there?"

He flinched when the water hit the bite, it had stopped bleeding but he could feel the sting. There was a soft splash as Finne lowered himself beside him.

"Come closer," said Aleci, gesturing for Finne to settle in front of him, between his legs.

Finne's hair was shoulder length now, longer than it had been when they married. He reached for the soap, gently running it through the auburn curls. It was hard to tell how long his hair was, Finne kept it pinned and tied out of the way, like a proper wife.

"Do you want me to braid your hair tomorrow?" said Aleci, tentatively, and he demonstrated by separating three strands together when Finne half turned his head to look.

"How?" said Finne, raising an eyebrow at him.

"How do I know?" said Aleci, guessing at the question, "You met Laria. My sister," said Aleci. "I braided it for her, like this," he piled Finne's hair into a messy crown into his head. At Finne's bemused look at his blurry reflection in the water he rolled his eyes, "Your hair's wet. I can't do it properly when it's wet."

"Hm," Finne's gaze flickered to his shoulder again.

"It doesn't hurt," said Aleci, "Don't worry about it. Do you want me to braid your hair?"

"You can braid," said Finne, every word dripping with skepticism.

"I can," Aleci declared cheerfully.

That was a definite smile from Finne, and a shake of the head at Aleci's raised eyebrow. But he didn't shy away when Aleci leaned in to kiss his cheek. If only winning duels and war always resulted in such pleasant affairs, Aleci thought wryly, he would probably have won more of them.