Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I'm going to pick up your prescriptions and drop Goewin at hockey practice," Ginevra said. She handed Medraut a blanket. "What are you going to feel like eating?"

Medraut turned on the couch so he could look up and shake his head at her. Saying more than a few words was a chore he didn’t feel like attempting. "Nothing really sounds good."

"I'll get you some options. Try to sleep."

He woke up a while later still woozy from the anesthesia, with the added bonus of mouth pain. There also seemed to be uptempo elevator music coming from somewhere, which, once he managed to sit up and look around, turned out to be Lleu playing a video game with the volume on low. 

Lleu paused his game when he noticed Medraut. "Hi. You look like shit."

"Language."

"Mom said to get you food to take your meds with, and if you want ice cream I can have some too."

"Sure. Ice cream's good."

While Lleu was gone, Medraut found that Ginevra had left his meds and a glass of water on the side table. He carefully fished the gauze out of his mouth and took the recommended doses just as Lleu came back with two bowls.

“That’s a lot of ice cream.”

“Well, you haven’t eaten anything today,” Lleu retorted. He made his voice deeper and parroted a familiar argument. “Your body needs food to help heal itself.”

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Right now you kinda do. Hey, do you feel less wise now?”

“That is the worst joke. I have half a mind to throw one of these at you.” Medraut dangled one of the bloody gauze pads from his fingers.

Lleu grimaced. “What’s the other half of your mind say?”

“That bodily fluids go in the biohazard bin.”

“Sounds too hazardous to throw at brothers. Hang on--” Lleu raced out of the room and came back with a bathroom trashcan, which he dropped by Medraut’s feet.

Medraut deposited the gauze. “Thanks. You’re being very helpful today.”

“Well, you always take care of me when I’m sick.” Lleu looked uncertain. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, though.”

“You’re doing fine. It’s not rocket surgery.”

“Yeah, just tooth surgery. Do you wanna play Smash Bros when you’re done eating?”

“The painkillers will knock me out soon.”

“Oh.” Lleu looked briefly disappointed before his face split into a yawn.

“And you sound like you need a nap too.”

“It’s stupid,” Lleu grumbled, “I’m not sick anymore, I shouldn’t need naps.”

“You need to build your strength back.”

Lleu stood up to peer into Medraut’s bowl. “I’ll take a nap if you finish your ice cream.”

“Deal.”

Every position seemed to result in a new way to put pressure on his jaw. After a few restless minutes, Medraut pulled all the pillows on his bed into a nest to prop himself up with. He had almost drifted off when someone knocked softly on the door.

“Mmph,” he mumbled.

He hadn’t needed to respond; the knocker was Lleu, who would have come in regardless. “Can I nap with you?”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“I keep having nightmares,” Lleu whispered. “About the hospital.”

“If you sleep here I might show up in your nightmares.”

“It won’t be a nightmare if you’re there.”

Medraut relented. “Come on, then. Keep your skull away from my jaw.”

Medraut woke with the feeling someone was watching him. He opened his eyes to find Goewin sitting on the bed next to him. "Make yourself at home," he mumbled. 

"Morning, sunshine," Goewin whispered. She looked over at Lleu. "He's out, huh? Was he keeping you company in your misery?"

"Mmm. Nightmares, he said."

"Oh. Yeah. You do look pretty miserable, though." Goewin scooted closer, pressing her arm against his. "I didn't mean to wake you up, but Mom did say to see if you wanted dinner."

He groaned. “I guess I should eat something.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Still loopy. I’ll be fine in a couple days.”

“Oh, right.” Goewin smirked. “Just in time for Turunesh to get here.”

Medraut scowled at her. “That’s just the recovery time.”

“Well, lucky you. Wouldn’t want to propose with your face like that.”

“You’re proposing?” Lleu mumbled indignantly. He uncurled himself from Medraut’s other side and sat up, glaring with all the force of an offended kitten. “You didn’t tell me.”

“Goewin only knows because she pestered me.”

“I did not! I asked once.”

“Pesteringly. Lleu, you can’t say anything to Turunesh.”

“Duh.”

Turunesh’s plane was still disembarking, but Medraut scanned the people coming out of customs anyway, as if it might make her appear faster. He forced himself to find a chair and something to read on his phone while he waited. At last a text came from Turunesh saying she was almost to the front of the line.

He stood and started looking for her in earnest, and soon spotted her familiar figure dressed in her travel clothes of leggings and tunic, pulling two full suitcases, and walking with a quick, purposeful stride. The slightest disgruntlement showed through her usual calm demeanor, but it dissolved into a smile when she saw Medraut coming towards her. 

Turunesh quickened her pace, and soon she was next to him putting down her luggage, and then her arms were wound tightly around his neck. After a long embrace she murmured, “I thought you were picking me up outside.”

“I was early, and I know how much you bring back.”

She laughed quietly against his neck. “Customs was a bit suspicious of my spices.”

“Do we need to file a report?”

She laughed again. “Just a bit suspicious. I missed you.”

He hugged her tighter still. “And I missed you.”

Turunesh pulled back and looked at him. “How are you feeling? Your face is still swollen.”

“Is it?!”

“Just a little.” She leaned in and kissed him, very gently. “I guess you’ll have to let me take care of you.”

“You may have to fight Lleu for the privilege. Anyway, I’m fine.”

“Mmhm. I see we’ll have to double-team you.”

She smiled playfully up at him, and Medraut could not help smiling back. “Plotting against me already?”

“Someone has to protect you from yourself. Let's go, I want dinner and I want to put you to bed.”

"Is that what we're calling it now?"

After they kissed at midnight, Medraut moved his head just enough to whisper in her ear: “Come for a walk with me?”

Turunesh turned her head so his lips met the corner of her jaw. “At this time of night?” 

“Or later, if you prefer.”

She stepped back and shook her head at him, smiling faintly. “Well, if those are the options, I prefer now.”

They headed towards what the family referred to as The Woods, a stand of towering pines that felt like a peaceful shelter from the outside world. Turunesh looped her arm through Medraut’s and stayed close to keep warm. He put his other hand over hers. The snowfall looked romantic, but Turunesh would call it “cold” and “damp”; fortunately it was light enough that they should stay dry under the trees.

Turunesh squeezed his arm as they entered the worn path between the pines. “What’s got you so restless?”

“I’m not.”

“You keep tapping your fingers against my hand. Stop here--” she halted in a dim shaft of moonlight -- “I want to be able to see you.”

He stopped obligingly, and she stepped around to look into his face, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Oh, excuse me. You are not restless, you are nervous. Medraut, it’s only me.”

“Yes.” This was not how he had planned the conversation, but Turunesh almost certainly knew where it was going anyway. He said softly, “only you. Only the love of my life. What would I do if you didn’t want to marry me?”

“Expose me as a shapeshifter and find the real Turunesh, I hope.”

She smiled up at him, affectionate and teasing and certain; he clasped both her hands in his and tried to send his own certainty back to her. “Turunesh Kidane, will you marry me?”

“Of course.” She leaned in to kiss him briefly. “Tomorrow, if you like.”

Medraut laughed quietly and rested his forehead against hers. “I might like that, but I thought you’d want a wedding.”

“Well, they’re not mutually exclusive, but I suppose I could wait until summer.” She gave a short, quiet chuckle. “Did you propose in the dead of winter so we’d have time to plan a summer wedding?”

“I was mostly thinking of the location. I promise I didn’t conjure up the snow.”

“But you do think it’s romantic.”

“Mm. Is it too cold to take your glove off for a moment?”

Turunesh went still when she looked down at the ring he put on her finger. Then she said softly, “light, please?”

Medraut found his phone and aimed the flashlight at her hand. “It is my mother’s,” Turunesh murmured. “This was my favorite of her rings. When I was little I would beg my father to let me wear it-- I’ve told you this before.” A laugh turned into a sob. “I asked him about it just a few days ago. Now I know why he was so evasive.”

She choked back a sob again, trying to maintain composure. Medraut cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed a tear off her cheek. “If you want to keep this one in memory of your mother, and get something else--”

“No,” Turunush said shakily. She drew a deep breath. “No, it’s perfect. I just-- I just wish I could call her right now.”

“I know,” Medraut murmured. He pulled her close and held her tightly while she breathed against his neck, long, quavering breaths turning to calm, even ones.

Eventually she lifted her head and said, “I suppose your family is waiting for us?”

“They can wait as long as you need.”

“I’m fine now. I just wanted to call my father before we go in.” She turned in the circle of his arms and leaned back against his chest. “Keep me warm while we talk.”

Chapter Text

Turunesh had perhaps been over-optimistic about her ability to find her classrooms on the first day of her second semester. Well, she would have been on time if the room numbering in this building followed any discernible logic. She finally found room 12B down a half-set of stairs at the end of a hallway and slid into a desk near the back, only a few minutes late. 

In her haste to unpack her notebook and pen, Turunesh dropped the pen, which rolled out of reach before she could retrieve it. It was stopped near the front of the room by a boy with white-blonde hair. He turned his head slightly and cut his eyes towards the back of the room, somehow making eye contact with Turunesh almost immediately. She supposed she was the only one staring after the pen. 

He seemed about to get up and return it to her, so she pulled out a pencil and held it up: no worries, I'll get it after class. He tilted his head in assent and turned back to the front of the room. 

By the time Turunesh collected her syllabus after class, the room had cleared; but the boy who’d picked up her pen was sitting on a table in the hall. He stood and held it out to her. “Yours, I take it.”

His voice didn’t sound very blonde, Turunesh thought nonsensically; it was low and musical. “Yes. Thank you.”

He didn’t leave as she packed away the pen and syllabus. “I’m Medraut.”

“I’m Turunesh,” Turunesh replied automatically, while trying to figure out why his name sounded familiar. It certainly wasn’t a common English name.

“It’s nice to meet you. I don’t know anyone in this class. Are you a Classics major?”

“No.” Turunesh shouldered her backpack. “Anthropology.”

“I’m premed.” Medraut gave a rueful little laugh. “My advisor said I should pick an elective that would take less time, but I’d rather spend a little more time on a class I’ll actually enjoy.”

“My cousin told me the same.” Turunesh suddenly realized why his name was so familiar: Medraut was almost certainly Muna’s ex-boyfriend. She didn’t recall Muna having anything bad to say, despite the ex part, so she went on, “It does seem to be quite a lot of writing.”

“Yes.” Medraut paused as they exited the building. “Would you be interested in meeting to work on it? No pressure, of course--”

“That does sound helpful,” Turunesh said truthfully, though she wanted to talk to Muna first.

“Well, I’ll give you my number. I promise I won’t be offended if you decide not to use it.” Medraut dug scrap paper and a pencil out of a pocket on a backpack strap.

“Of course that’s my Medraut,” Muna said, laughing. “How many do you think there are on campus? You should study with him, he’s smart. And hot, right?”

“Are you having regrets? Because I do not want to get stuck in the middle of you trying to get back together.”

“No regrets. It was a mutual breakup.” Muna poked Turunesh’s shoulder. “Answer the question.”

Turunesh sighed. “Yes, Muna. I think he’s very pretty.”

Muna says hello, Turunesh said when she texted to set up a study time. Of course, why wouldn’t she be Muna’s cousin? It wasn’t that Medraut had regrets, exactly. More of a lingering nagging feeling that he could’ve become the kind of person who could have stayed with Muna -- which he could hear Muna gently chiding him for.

He went to meet Turunesh. “You never study with other people,” his roommate said incredulously, a justifiable but not entirely true accusation; most people were more distraction than help. But Turunesh was a good study partner, working with quiet focus and offering interesting commentary when they occasionally broke the silence to discuss their reading for the week.

“I got a lot more done than I expected,” Turunesh said as they were packing up. “This was a good idea. Same time next week?”

A month or so after the start of the semester, they were walking out of the library when Medraut suddenly turned sharply back toward the building. “Is that a bat?”

He was still walking, so Turunesh followed, though what he pointed at looked to her like a small clump of dirt. Medraut crouched down beside it. “It is a bat. I think it’s a baby.”

“Can you tell if it has rabies?”

“No.” Medraut pulled gloves out of his jacket pocket. “Will you call animal control?”

Turunesh pulled out her phone. “You aren’t going to touch it!”

“That’s what the gloves are for. It’s fine.”

By the time Turunesh was repeating the animal control officer’s direction not to touch the bat, Medraut had it carefully cradled in one palm. It was small and unmoving; only its papery wings kept it from looking like a clump of dirt still.

“It seems weak,” he said softly. “It probably just needs food.”

“I think,” Turunesh said, “you could have figured that out without touching it.”

Medraut sat and leaned against the library wall, carefully so as not to disturb the bat. “I needed to see if I could help it. You don’t have to wait with me.”

Turunesh sat down next to him. “I think someone who is not stupid about a bat should stay.”

She immediately felt bad about saying it, but Medraut only gave her a small half-smile and said, “I do appreciate your lack of stupidity.”

Chapter Text

The baby bat, sadly, turned out to have rabies. The rabies vaccine was at least as bad as it was reputed to be. Medraut met Turunesh shortly after his third dose and almost immediately managed to move his sore arm too much, or in the wrong way. It took all his concentration to let his breath out slowly without gasping or hissing.

Turunesh noticed anyway. “Are you alright?”

“Just sore.”

Despite his nonchalance, she gave him a level look that said she knew there was more to it. He sighed. “Rabies vaccine.”

“The bat didn’t survive, then,” she said sympathetically.

“At least it didn’t suffer longer.”

“I’m sorry you’re suffering for your kindness,” Turunesh said sincerely. “Do you need some Tylenol?”

“I took some. I keep meaning to get an ice pack, but at this point I guess it won’t make much difference.”

“I think we have one you can borrow.”

Medraut was persuaded to come back to Turunesh’s dorm for the ice pack. “You haven’t changed, Medraut,” Muna said after Turunesh recounted the situation for her.

Muna meant it as a compliment, and Medraut wasn’t sure he could engage with that. “Turunesh warned me it was stupid.”

“I find it is generally wise to listen to Turunesh.”

As winter term finals approached, the frequency of their formerly-weekly study sessions increased. It wasn’t intentional at first. Turunesh, searching for a study spot in the library, had noticed Medraut at an otherwise empty table near their usual spot. He looked up as she approached, with a frown prepared for the stranger disrupting his peace; it vanished when he saw Turunesh.

Today Turunesh was studying calculus (and beginning to agree with Muna, who had just said “Why?” when Turunesh decided to take it as a math elective). She wasn’t sure what Medraut was studying, but it seemed to be giving him a good deal more trouble than usual. He sat staring at a page of a textbook with his forehead resting on his palm, fingers gripping his hair. Turunesh didn’t know how long it had been since he turned a page or wrote something.

He didn’t even notice her examining him. “What’s giving you trouble?” she asked.

Medraut looked up and gave her a brief, pained smile. “Genetic determinism. I mean, it’s not trouble. It’s just that my genetics professor all but guaranteed he’d put a short essay question about nature versus nurture on the final, and I don’t really like thinking about it.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s-- well.” He looked away from her. “I think it’s more nurture than nature, but I know that’s a self-serving belief. I could very well be wrong, and I don’t like to think about what that would mean.”

Turunesh did not know much about Medraut’s family, but he had always spoken fondly of them before. She said carefully, “I had the impression that you liked your parents.”

His brows pinched together. “Have I-- oh. That’s my father and his wife. My birth mother is--” he made a dismissive motion with one hand, and was silent long enough that Turunesh thought it was all the explanation he meant to give. “--something else.”

“I’m sorry,” Turunesh said inadequately. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Medraut looked back to her, dark blue eyes piercing hers. “I think--” he stood abruptly. “I think I’m going to the coffee shop. Can I get you something?”

“Just a regular coffee, please.”

He returned with both the coffee and a packet of honey, which Turunesh had never noticed at the coffee shop. “Where did you find that?”

“You have to ask for it.” Medraut took a long sip from his own cup and put it down. “I think I would like to tell you about my mother, if I may.”

“Of course.”

He curled both hands around his cup and said slowly, “my mother is the kind of person who would have a child with her half-brother. She found out shortly after they met, and told him only a few weeks before I was born. He hadn’t even known he had a sister; he was adopted and she stayed with their mother.” He shrugged almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know why she did it. I’ve barely seen her since I was eight, and at the time I thought she was my aunt raising me while her brother finished school. But I know she likes hurting-- no, she likes having power over people, and she hurts them to get it.”

Medraut dropped one hand to the table, palm up. He whispered, “she’s also a doctor.”

Turunesh pushed aside her questions and reached over to place her hand on his. “You are nothing like her.”

“You cannot hear my thoughts.”

“Nor would I want you to hear mine. We all have thoughts that should not see the light of day.”

Medraut smiled weakly. “I think I’m done studying for tonight. Do you want to get dinner?”

On the first day of spring quarter Turunesh heard a familiar voice call her name. She turned her head in time to see Medraut catch up to her. “There you are,” she said, then laughed at how absurd it sounded. “I mean, I was about to text to see if you were free for lunch. Are you?”

He answered with his lopsided smile. "I am. How are you?"

"Alright, I suppose." It had begun to drizzle again; Turunesh pulled the hood of her jacket up. "Wondering when we'll see the sun again."

Medraut said dryly, "I regret to inform you we're in Seattle."

"I know. I thought Muna was exaggerating how gray it could get. How do people deal with it?"

"They take vitamin D," Medraut said pragmatically. "Some people get sun lamps. Ditch class when it's sunny and sit in the quad." He looked up at the clouds as he spoke. 

"It doesn't seem to bother you."

"Not really. It helps to be pale. I can absorb enough vitamin D from the sunlight reflecting off the moon."

Turunesh laughed. "Like a vampire. No you can't!"

"I probably shouldn't test that hypothesis," he agreed. 

Lleu had needed an overnight hospital stay while Medraut was home for spring break, and Medraut had stayed with him. “Will you promise to stay with me every time I’m in the hospital?” Lleu had begged before Medraut went back to school. He couldn’t promise that, of course, but he couldn’t not promise to be there whenever he could.

He had needed to keep his promise only a couple months later, which was why he now had only about 16 hours before his first final after getting in late last night. 

“You look exhausted,” Turunesh said sympathetically. “How much studying do you have to get done tonight?”

His mind felt unsteady, like it was taking its first wobbly steps into biochemistry instead of running through the contents of the whole semester. “All of it. I don’t even know.”

“I’ll leave you alone, then.”

It was probably quite a while later when Turunesh whispered, “can I ask a question?”

“No.” Medraut heard how cross he sounded and looked up guiltily. “I’m sorry, I--”

“You’re tired,” Turunesh said, apparently unperturbed. “I’m going to get coffee. What do you want?”

“Was that your question?”

“It is now.”

“Dirty chai, please.”

As she left, Turunesh stopped suddenly behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, warm and reassuring. “I think you’re a good brother and a good friend,” she said softly. “And I think sleep will help you more than caffeine.”

Medraut looked down at his notes, looked up at the clock, and sighed. “I could finish the essentials by 9, probably.”

“Alright. I’m walking you back to your dorm at 9:15.”

“Are you?”

“I am. I know you won’t actually go to sleep if I don’t hold you to it.”

“I guess you should get me a regular chai, then.”

The next time Medraut looked up from his work Turunesh was packing her things. “Did you finish?” she asked.

“Hm. Two minutes.”

Turunesh took both their empty cups, then came back and waited for him. They walked silently back towards the dorms. 

Under the dorm entrance lights Turunesh turned toward him, seeming about to say something; instead she stepped closer and hugged him. Medraut relaxed into the embrace and tightened his arms around her and let his cheek rest against her hair.

It was a while, but not long enough, before Turunesh pulled away. “Sleep well, Medraut,” she said.

“I think I will, thanks to you.”

Chapter Text

Turunesh opened her email on her first night home to find a message from Medraut.

I texted to ask if you were home safe, then remembered you wouldn’t be using your U.S. sim card. Should I get your current number? Use facebook chat? I figured email was a safe bet for now. Anyway, are you safely home? I won’t ask if your father and everyone else is happy to see you, because of course they are. I have a week to cater to Lleu and Goewin’s demands for games and hikes and whatever else it is 10 year olds like to do before I start work. The attached picture is where we went today. I would love to see your favorite places in Addis Ababa if you have a chance to send pictures.

The attached photo, when it finally downloaded, showed a winding trail through a meadow carpeted with yellow flowers that reminded Turunesh of Meskel daisies. In the distance slabs of reddish gray rock looked as though they had been sharply upended from the earth, with trees blanketing their shoulders and valleys, all under a dazzling blue sky.

It was somehow easy to imagine Medraut beneath those distant trees, looking at home in a way Turunesh had only occasionally glimpsed on campus. And he'd thought of her, in his first few days at home. Happy as she was to be in her own home, she suddenly felt the distance between them acutely. 

She typed up something to that effect, deleted it, and mentioned the daisies instead. 

By the time she woke the next morning there was already a reply waiting for her. Turunesh typed a response one-handed while she ate breakfast, and she had another email from Medraut after dinner. Her father, sitting with her while he finished his work for the day, glanced at her computer and asked, "Are your university friends emailing? I thought students were all about texting. I assumed you would be running up my mobile phone bill."

"I think Medraut is being considerate of your mobile phone bill," Turunesh said, "but if you've already budgeted for it I'll give him my number."

"If you're finding email satisfactory, please continue. This is the boy you're always studying with?" Hearing a tone of voice that suggested a familiar conversational direction, Turunesh only made an affirmative noise. "You would tell me if you had an American boyfriend?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"I'm not disapproving," Kidane said. "He sounds like a nice boy."

“He is a nice boy. Who I’m emailing because we are friends. If I were dating someone you would be the first to know.” Compelled to honesty, Turunesh amended, “I suppose Muna might be first.”

“The tyranny of distance. I can be content with second.”

The emails flew almost as rapidly even once they were both busy with work and local friends. Turunesh came to realize that their conversations in the past year had largely been circumscribed by school; the distance expanded their conversational topics, and likewise their knowledge of each other. Turunesh learned that Medraut liked to run long distances on the mountain trails and go backpacking in the wilderness; he learned of her love for textile arts, which Turunesh had missed dearly during the school year, as she had left her looms and spindles at home. Photos sometimes accompanied the emails: Medraut sent the view from his bedroom at sunset, Ginevra’s small flock of wool sheep, mountain vistas, and Turunesh sent back her father’s garden, the cathedral, the national park just outside the city.

A month or so into the break Medraut wrote, We could skype, if it’s not too inconvenient for you. I don’t mind staying up late so you don’t have to interrupt your day. Turunesh did not mind interrupting her day, but she knew Medraut started work at 7, and wouldn’t ask him to wake up even earlier to call her. So a few mornings later she logged into Skype. 

Her webcam was not very good, and examining herself on her own screen, Turunesh felt suddenly self-conscious about it. She tried ineffectually to make her hair look a little less of a fuzzy blob. At least when Medraut appeared, his video quality was not any better; but it did not disguise his tiredness, nor his smile. Turunesh suppressed an absurd urge to reach out and touch his cheek. “It’s good to see you,” Medraut said.

Kidane found them laughing together almost an hour later, when Turunesh should have been ready to leave for work with him. She hastily bid Medraut goodbye and apologized to her father. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

“Start earlier next time,” he suggested mildly.

Their Skype sessions continued intermittently, while the emails did not decrease. Paradoxically, seeing Medraut’s face on her screen only made Turunesh miss him more. She did not attempt to hide her pleasure when he offered to pick her up at the airport. “Of course. I can’t wait to see you.”

She wondered if Medraut had noticed the habit he had, whenever she said something slightly affectionate, of ducking his head to the right while the left corner of his mouth turned up. He did this now, and said, “I’ll see you soon, then.”

After an hour in the customs line texting Medraut updates, Turunesh began to think she shouldn’t have put him through the hassle of picking her up. But the thought vanished when Medraut got out of his car and wrapped her in a hug so enthusiastic it pulled her feet from the curb. Turunesh hugged him back as tight as she could and said, “Oh, it’s so good to see you.”

Chapter Text

Medraut had to let go of Turunesh sooner than he wanted. It was hard to step away, and then hard to stop looking at her; but he managed to help wrangle her luggage into the car, and to assure her no, he hadn’t been waiting long, he’d stopped for lunch, there’s some for you, and to navigate out of the airport. On the highway he glanced over and found her watching him. She smiled, and gently pressed a finger to his cheek to turn him back to facing the road. “You look much better in real life than on my computer screen.”

“So do you.” His throat suddenly felt dry. He still felt the warmth from her fingertip on his skin, and felt her gaze on his face. Expressing affection seemed to come easily to Turunesh. What he wanted to say to her seemed inadequate, but he probably shouldn’t try to say it while he was driving anyway. He stumbled finding something else. “You-- I-- I missed you. A lot.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her move her hand toward him again, then apparently think better of it. “And I missed you.”

They fell into easy conversation until they hit the creeping weave of traffic near downtown, and Medraut remembered something. “I forgot to ask for your address.”

“Oh! I almost forgot too.” Turunesh scrolled through her phone for the address and gave it to him. “You’ll come in and see the apartment, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

The single visitor’s parking spot in the small apartment complex was, miraculously, empty. Turunesh went to the office to retrieve her key, then joined him in lugging suitcases up the narrow stairs. They were both gasping by the time they reached her apartment on the third floor. 

“Hmm,” Turunesh said as she pushed the door open. She stepped inside, and Medraut saw the sparse furnishings she had hmmed at: two armchairs and a side table in the living room, two barstools at the high counter facing the kitchen, and nothing else. “They did say it would be partially furnished, but I guess I expected them to leave more than this.” ‘They’ referred to previous tenants, friends of Muna’s. 

Turunesh left her suitcase in the middle of the room and headed down the hallway. “God, I hope there’s a bed.”

Medraut followed her. There were beds, and dressers, and one nightstand between the two bedrooms. Turunesh leaned experimentally on a mattress. “I think I’m going to want a mattress topper.” She sighed. “And a couch, and a table and chairs, at the least. That’s going to be a pain, transporting furniture.”

“It’s not that bad,” Medraut offered. He leaned back with his hands on the bed, facing her. “We can rent a uhaul truck for half a day.”

“I don’t have an American license.”

“I was offering my services. We can go this afternoon, if you’re not too tired.”

Turunesh shook her head and yawned, then laughed at herself. “I am tired, but I need to adjust to the time zone. It sounds like a lot of trouble for you, though.”

“It’s my pleasure. I missed you, remember?”

“Then I won’t deprive you.” She grinned at him, as bright and sudden as the sun appearing from behind a cloud.

“I’m about to be insufferable,” Turunesh warned as they entered the first used furniture store.

Medraut tried, and failed, to imagine this. “I’m sure you’re not.”

“Ask anyone who’s been subjected to my opinions on upholstery fabrics.” Turunesh briefly trailed her fingers over the arm of a couch. “They’re mostly bad.”

“The opinions, or the fabrics?”

She moved to elbow him. Medraut quickly stepped out of the way, and just as quickly caught her arm so she wouldn’t stumble. “The fabrics, of course,” Turunesh said primly. “You can form your own opinion of my opinions. Used furniture might not be as bad, actually. Anything that won’t stand up to wear has already been weeded out.”

“It might be uglier, though.” Medraut gestured at a mustard-yellow sofa with a paisley print, which was sandwiched between obviously fake leather and something plaid and vaguely shiny.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” Turunesh sat on the paisley sofa and rubbed her hands over the cushions. “This fabric is kind of nice, actually. The print…has its merits?” She stared down at it, waiting for the merits to reveal themselves. “Historical value, probably.”

Turunesh was not insufferable, of course, but she did turn out to be choosy about the couch. They managed to find dining furniture, a desk, and a coffee table at the first store, but visited three more before Turunesh finally settled on a new-looking brown couch that she pronounced “boring but acceptable.”

“It’s not too late to go back for the paisley.”

Turunesh laughed. “No thank you. You must be wishing you hadn’t offered to drive me around.”

“Absolutely not,” Medraut said. He was wishing he could reach over and hold her hand. “I do wish your apartment building had wider stairs, though.”

“And I’m wishing we had the ground floor, but I’m sure we’ll manage.”

They managed with a lot of maneuvering and a half-friendly, half-exasperated offer of help from Turunesh’s neighbor, who had ended up trapped on the stairs behind them. Turunesh dropped onto the couch almost as soon as they had put it down. “I’m sure that’s not where I want it, but I’ll deal with that later. Do you need some water?”

“I can get it,” Medraut said. “Are there glasses in the cabinets?”

“Oh, probably not. But you might as well look.” Turunesh leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, thinking. “Here, I know.” She rummaged in the suitcase she’d left in the living room and carried a large box into the kitchen. From several layers of newspaper emerged a small porcelain cup with a bright, intricate design painted around the rim. “They’re from my coffee set,” she said apologetically, unwrapping another. “Not ideal for water, but we can refill.”

Medraut examined the cup she had handed to him. “They’re beautiful, though.”

“Aren’t they? They were my grandmother’s. I’ll have to do a coffee ceremony for you someday soon. It’s how we welcome visitors to our home.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Medraut said honestly, despite not looking forward to drinking coffee.

“You can put as much sugar in as you like,” Turunesh said, as though reading his mind. She glanced at the clock. “Isn’t the truck due back soon?”

“Oh god, it is.” Medraut gulped down another cupful of water and set the cup down gently. “I’ll be back in a bit, you have a bag in my car still.”

When he returned, he waited so long after knocking on Turunesh’s door that he started wondering if he should text, or assume she had fallen asleep, or--  “Sorry,” Turunesh said. “I didn’t mean to take so long in the shower.” Her hair was hidden under some kind of wrap; she smelled faintly of mint and something floral. “Do you want pizza?”

The question caught him off guard; he knew she must be tired, and had been prepared to drop off the bag and leave. “What?”

“I know you aren’t asking what pizza is,” Turunesh said, laughing. “Come in and sit down.” He sat at one end of the new couch while she explained, “I thought I’d make you dinner since you’ve been helping me all day, but then I remembered I haven’t been to the grocery store. So: let me buy you pizza?”

“You don’t have to do that," Medraut protested. “I’ll pay.”

“We can get something else, if you like.” Turunesh sat next to him on the couch, so close her shoulder brushed against his. “But you can’t pay. Non-negotiable.” 

He had unconsciously leaned into her. Her skin was still hot  from the shower; he couldn't think. "I concede. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Medraut shifted to face her and tentatively put his hand over Turunesh's. She turned her hand over to grasp his. "Turunesh, I'd like-- could I take you on a date?"

She smiled at him. "Just one?"

He smiled back and squeezed her hand. "Many, I hope."

"Good, because I think buying you dinner might count as our first date."

Medraut laughed; at the unexpectedness of it, at the smirk on her face, at the mischief in her eyes. "Then I think taking you furniture shopping might count as our first date."

"Maybe inviting you to my apartment was our first date."

"Maybe picking you up from the airport was our first date."

"Maybe walking you home from the library was our first date."

Medraut chuckled and admitted defeat. "Was it? I must have been too tired to notice."

"I'm glad we got that sorted." Turunesh pressed herself closer and dropped her head against his shoulder. Medraut put his arm around her. After a while she said softly, "I know the real answer."

"Mmm?"

"Our first date was when you kissed me while we were sitting on my couch." Turunesh tilted her face up to him, and he kissed her.

Chapter Text

“Your father’s fiancee will be there,” Aunt Morgause said sternly, “so you’d better be on your best behavior if you expect to continue staying with him for the summers.”

Medraut thought about whether he ought to tell Aunt Morgause that Dad had said Medraut would stay with him for good once he finished his PhD. But Dad had also said, “I guess I’d better talk to Morgause about that soon,” so maybe Medraut wasn’t supposed to say anything. Aunt Morgause would probably punish him for contradicting her; she didn’t care if Dad had said it first. And she hadn’t asked, so it wasn’t a lie to just say, “Yes ma’am.”

“I’ll be watching you. Where are your shoes?”

“By the door.”

“Put them on -- oh, for God’s sake,” Aunt Morgause snapped, because Gwalchmei had just come running into the room and stopped himself by crashing into his mother’s leg. “What happened to your hair, Gwalchmei?”

“Brushed it,” he answered, looking up at her hopefully. Most of his bright red hair was sticking straight up, except for a couple spots that were smashed flat.

“You brushed it the wrong direction. Medraut, help him fix it.”

Medraut took Gwalchmei’s hand and led him to the bathroom, leaving his own shoes for later. Gwalchmei climbed onto the stool and looked at himself in the mirror. “It’s nice,” he said sadly. 

“Your mom doesn’t like it,” Medraut said, keeping his own opinion to himself, “but maybe she’ll let you do it another day.”

Gwalchmei looked like he might throw a fit about it -- he was very stubborn -- but thankfully he ended up saying “Tomorrow?”

“We’ll see,” Medraut said. “Are you going to brush it, or should I?”

Gwalchmei picked up the hairbrush and tried clumsily to get his hair to lay flat.

“It might need to be wet,” Medraut said after a little bit, because Aunt Morgause would be angry if this made them late.

“Nooooo,” Gwalchmei wailed. Medraut had forgotten that, at four years old, he still hated putting his head under water.

“Just this part,” Medraut said, patting the still-spiky bit of Gwalchmei’s hair a bit harder than he needed to. “You don’t have to put your head under.”

Gwalchmei eyed him suspiciously while he turned the water on and cupped his hand underneath, but he didn’t try to get away when Medraut splashed the water on his hair. It helped, a little.

“It’s time to go!” Aunt Morgause yelled.

Medraut looked at Gwalchmei’s hair again, and decided his aunt was more likely to be angry about them being late than about the hair. “Come on.”

His father greeted Medraut with a big hug and said, “Are you ready to meet your evil stepmother?”

“I told you to stop saying that!” the woman with him said, but she was laughing as she said it. She laughed with her whole face, not just her voice. She was short, with brown hair and brown eyes and a kind face; she didn’t seem like the kind of person you had to be on your best behavior around.

“I’m Ginevra,” she said, crouching down to shake the hand Medraut politely offered. “I’d much rather you call me that than stepmother.”

Medraut had never been told to call an adult by their first name before, and he was uncomfortably aware of Aunt Morgause standing next to him. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Then his Grandmother came over to greet them, and Uncle Cador, who was not actually his uncle but his father’s best friend. Aunt Morgause had lived with Grandmother growing up, but Dad had been adopted and only met her a little while before Medraut was born. Whenever the adults started talking about it they gave Medraut a Look that meant he had to leave the room, so that was all he knew.

After dinner the adults sat around arguing -- they called it discussing, but it sounded like arguing to Medraut -- about politics while a football game played in the background. Gwalchmei had fallen asleep in his mother’s lap. Medraut tried to read his book, but it was hard when everyone was so loud. Looking around, he found Ginevra was in the kitchen. She saw him looking and motioned him over.

“They can argue, can’t they? I’m going to make some hot chocolate. Do you want some?” Medraut glanced back into the living room, and Ginevra added, “I’m sure your father won’t mind.”

Aunt Morgause would mind, but she wouldn’t say anything with Dad there. Medraut decided, “Yes, I’d like to have some, please.”

Ginevra kept chatting while she worked on the hot chocolate. “Your father said you’re doing well in school, but he must have forgotten to mention you’re reading chapter books already! I saw you have The Boxcar Children. I always loved those.”

“I just started it,” Medraut explained. “The school librarian gave it to me after I finished all the books we’re supposed to read this year.” He bit his lip. “I shouldn’t brag about it, though.”

“I’m sure no one would call that bragging,” Ginevra said easily. She finished stirring the hot chocolate and pushed a mug across the counter to Medraut.

“Aunt Morgause would,” he said, then quickly took a sip of hot chocolate to hide how he felt about saying it. If Ginevra told Dad, he’d have an argument with Aunt Morgause, and then Medraut would be in trouble with her.

Ginevra smiled at him, but it didn’t look as happy as before. “It’s bragging to talk about what you’re reading?”

“To talk about finishing the class reading,” Medraut said. Honesty made him add, “I think.”

“Oh.” She seemed to relax a little. “Well, your classmates might not like to hear about it, but I would. What’s happening in your book now?”

He talked about the book with Ginevra until Dad called her over to join a card game. Then Medraut found a spot behind the couch where no one would notice him, and kept reading until he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

“How’s his temperature?”

Frowning, Ginevra handed the thermometer to Medraut in answer. He read it and mirrored her frown. “If it gets any higher, we really ought to go to the ER. God, it’s the worst night of the year for it.”

“I don’t want to go to the ER,” Lleu protested weakly, and immediately broke into a coughing fit.

“No one wants to,” Medraut said dryly. “I think your cough is getting worse, too.” He knelt by Lleu’s bed and picked up his stethoscope from the bedside table. “Take a deep breath for me.”

Lleu glared at him. “Don’t bedside manner me. It hurts.”

“Just breathing hurts?” He didn’t really need to ask; he could hear it when Lleu spoke. “That definitely sounds worse than this morning.”

Lleu coughed again, and Ginevra asked, “Should you take him now? I’m sure the ER will only get busier after midnight.”

Medraut shook his head. “They see patients in order of priority. His fever isn’t quite to the point of being urgent yet, so we might have to wait longer if we go now.”

“Ugh,” Lleu mumbled.

An hour later, they were checking in with the harried receptionist at the Emergency Room. Medraut reeled off the progression of Lleu’s symptoms over the past day. She squinted suspiciously at him. "I don't need the doctor speak."

Medraut bit back a snappish reply and explained, "Third year med student." She nodded, typing briskly. "Looks like a typical New Year's Eve."

She glanced up at the overfull waiting room and sighed. "And this is before the drunk driving accidents start coming in." Lleu coughed, and she looked over sympathetically; he had a knack for arousing sympathy without even trying. "Unlucky for you, hon."

"Yeah," Lleu agreed. 

The chairs were all taken, and people were resorting to leaning against walls. Medraut spotted an empty length of wall at the far side of the room and pulled Lleu over to sit. Lleu slid down the wall and leaned his head back against it, coughing. Medraut offered him a cough drop, which he took without comment; another sign of his worsening condition.

“Medraut?” Lleu asked, once the cough drop seemed to be having some effect.

“Yeah?”

“Why are there so many people, if there’s no drunk drivers here yet?”

Medraut sighed. “Other poor decisions, often also involving alcohol. Blowing fingers off with fireworks. Jumping from someplace too high up. Stupid challenges. Things like that.”

“Mmm,” Lleu said. He sounded tired; the cough had been keeping him up at night.

“Try to sleep.” Medraut balled up his coat and placed it on his shoulder so Lleu could lean against him. “It will probably be a while even if you’re a priority.”

“Floor’s cold,” Lleu mumbled after a little while.

“Put your coat on it.”

“Then all of me will be cold.”

Medraut gently pulled his own coat from under Lleu’s head. Before he could offer it for the floor, Lleu complained, “That’s my pillow.”

Outside, a clock tower somewhere chimed faintly. A half-hearted chorus of “happy New Year” murmured its way around the waiting room. Lleu coughed. 

Medraut gave up warming the floor and pulled his brother into his lap. Lleu snuggled against his shoulder and put one fever-hot arm around his neck. “I thought I was too big for this,” he mumbled.

“Did I say that?”

“No. I just…thought.”

“You’re not too big.” Lleu’s legs stretched away awkwardly; how much had he grown since last time Medraut had been home? “You’ll never be too big.”

“So when I’m taller than you--”

“If.”

“When I’m taller,” Lleu insisted, “you’ll still hold me when I’m sick?”

“On the off chance you become taller, yes. As long as you want to be held.”

“Until a nurse comes for us?”

“Of course.”

Lleu was soundly asleep when they were finally called back. Medraut tried to gently jostle him awake, but he only coughed. So he carefully lifted Lleu as he stood, and carried him to the exam room.

Chapter Text

Turunesh shifted against him like she might be about to get up, but she only resettled herself with her head more securely against his chest. Medraut tightened his arms around her and rested his cheek against her hair. He wasn’t sure how late it was; late enough that she probably wanted to go home soon. It was silly to miss her while she was still here, but he couldn’t make it stop.

He said, “Turunesh?”

“Mmm.”

“Will you stay?”

She stretched her arm out across his chest. “I am staying.”

“I mean, will you stay the night.”

Turunesh pulled away so she could see his face, her brow drawn together in confusion. “That’s what I meant, too. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t…it might be too much?”

Turunesh dropped her head to hide her amusement, but could not quite stifle a quiet laugh. When she looked up again she said, “Medraut. We just had sex, and you think sleeping together might be too much?”

He couldn’t explain even to himself what made them seem so different, so he said inanely, “They’re different things.”

“Indisputably,” Turunesh agreed. She leaned in to kiss him briefly. “They’re both things I want very much. I brought my toothbrush.”

It startled a laugh out of Medraut. “We probably had a spare.”

“But you would have stressed about it if you didn’t,” Turunesh pointed out accurately. “I’m going to go brush my teeth, and then I’m going to come back to bed.”

“I look forward to it,” Medraut said, which still sounded stupid, but was at least entirely true.

He rolled into the warm spot Turunesh left behind and was half asleep when she lay back down and ran her fingers slowly from the base of his skull to the top of his head. “Your hair’s getting long,” she murmured.

“I’ve been meaning to get it cut.”

“I like it like this.” Turunesh slid her fingers into his hair and tugged gently. He didn’t think he reacted audibly, but something made her add softly, “ you like it like this.”

“I like whatever you’re doing.”

Turunesh woke slightly disoriented, but too comfortable to care. Medraut was curled around her with his arm over her waist; she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back. She tried to stretch her legs out without disturbing him, but as soon as she moved he hugged her tighter and kissed her shoulder.

“Good morning,” Turunesh whispered. “Have you been awake long?”

“Um.” Medraut kissed her shoulder again. “Is it weird if I say yes?”

“I think it’s cute,” she said. The sun coming through the window was already bright. “You gave up your early morning run for me.”

Medraut’s chuckle tickled the side of her neck. “It didn’t have a chance of competing with you.”

“I’m glad. We should probably get up soon, though.”

Medraut made an unenthusiastic noise. “Do you want coffee?”

“I’m shocked you have coffee.”

“Well. Technically Marcus has coffee. I don’t know if it’s good coffee.”

Turunesh laughed. “Are you offering me your roommate’s bad coffee?”

Medraut pressed his face against her neck and said something that sounded close to, “Well, when you put it that way.”

She offered, “We could walk to the coffee shop that has the spicy chai you like.”

Medraut started to say something else muffled, then moved his head to speak clearly. “Can I buy you coffee?”

“You can even buy me breakfast, if you want.”

Chapter Text

“We are not racing,” Goewin announced.

“We always race,” Lleu retorted, his nose smashed against the kitchen window as though that would help him see Medraut’s car turning into the driveway sooner. “You’re just afraid I’ll win. You know I’m getting faster.”

“We’re not racing because his girlfriend is coming and that would be rude. As a first impression.” 

“Obviously I’m not gonna tackle her,” Lleu said dismissively. A few seconds later he shouted “Car!” and tried to push Goewin away from the window so she couldn’t see when Medraut got out.

Goewin twisted away from the push and grabbed his wrists. “I’ll hold onto you so you can’t race.”

Lleu tried to yank his arms back without success. “Like that’s a good first impression,” he said. He let his arms go loose again and stomped on her foot.

“Hey--” Lleu dashed for the door with Goewin at his heels.

Goewin slowed down after they got outside. Lleu was going to win, since he’d stomped on her foot, but also she really did want to make a good impression on the elegant girl standing next to Medraut, watching with an amused smile as Lleu crashed into him. “Hello,” Goewin said. “I’m Goewin.”

“I’m Turunesh.” Turunesh shook the hand Goewin offered. “I’m glad I finally get to meet you.”

“Sorry about Lleu. I told him it was rude.”

Turunesh smiled. “I was warned. I think it’s sweet you’re so excited to see your brother.”

Goewin glanced at her brothers, who were engaged in what Lleu called ‘fighting’ even though he was actually just trapped in a headlock and whining about it. “You must not have any brothers.”

Turunesh laughed, and Medraut let Lleu go to look over at her. “We can put these gremlins to work carrying in luggage.”

“Oh, it’s not that much,” Turunesh protested.

“We want to be helpful,” Lleu said, apparently deciding it was time to be polite now.

“And you have your whole coffee set,” Medraut said. “I mean, don’t let them carry that, but they can take the other stuff.”

“What’s a coffee set?” Goewin asked as Medraut unlocked the car hatch. “It sounds fancy.”

“A bit fancy, I suppose. It’s for performing coffee ceremonies. I’ll show you later this afternoon, if everyone has time.”

“We do,” Goewin said promptly. Honesty compelled her to amend, “I’m pretty sure. Mom’s with her sheep because there’s a new lamb, and Dad should be back from the grocery store soon but who knows because he has to go down every aisle.”

Medraut pulled two backpacks out of the car. “When did he leave?”

“Like an hour ago.” Goewin took the backpacks. “I’m stronger than Lleu, you know.”

“I’m giving you the things that don’t roll,” Medraut said dryly. He reached back into the car for the only thing left, a largish wooden box. “Turunesh, do we have anything in the front seat?”

“Just water bottles and trash. I can get that.” She reached for the box.

“You can get my suitcase?” Medraut suggested. “I will protect this box with my life.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Turunesh told him fondly. She took the suitcase.

Inside Goewin hovered by the dining table, where Medraut had placed the box that must contain the coffee set. He shooed her away. “You could go let Ginevra know we’re here.”

“I think she knows. I want--”

“You want to be helpful?”

“That was Lleu.”

“You can help me set this up in a bit,” Turunesh offered. “I want to unpack first. See you in 15 minutes?”

“You can’t just give in. She’ll think you’re an easy target,” Medraut grumbled, but he was smiling.

Goewin wasn’t sure he noticed the smile, but Turunesh definitely did. She leaned into him and said agreeably, “I am an easy target. Show me our room?”

Goewin leaned against the counter next to Turunesh and watched her shake a skillet of green coffee beans over the stovetop. She hadn’t known before that coffee beans came in green, though it made sense if you thought about it.

“What can I do to help?” Ginevra asked from the other side of the island. “It seems wrong to have the guest making the coffee.”

Turunesh agreed, “That’s not usually how it’s done. Goewin will have to do it next time.” She winked at Goewin and did a fast push-pull motion with the skillet that made the beans jump. “You can make snacks, if you like. Popcorn’s a favorite, but it’s whatever you want, really.”

“I’m sure we have popcorn. Lleu, go see if the popcorn popper’s still in the den.”

“I’m watching,” Lleu protested, but he slid down off the counter and went to check.

The coffee beans weren’t done roasting until a good while after the popcorn was done. Turunesh had given bean-stirring responsibility to Goewin, but no matter how diligently she stirred the beans never started looking like she expected them to.

“I think I might be burning these,” she said when there was a break in the adults’ conversation. Turunesh looked over her shoulder. “Look, some of them are a lot darker than others.”

“Oh, that’s normal,” Turunesh assured her. “They won’t look like coffee beans you get from the store. I do think these are done, though, unless anyone likes their coffee extra dark.”

On the other side of Turunesh Goewin saw Medraut wrinkle his nose. “Don’t let Dad have a say in how dark the coffee is.”

“No,” Ginevra agreed. “Absolutely not.”

Artos held up his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t going to say anything! Not that non-coffee drinkers should get a say, either.”

“I drink Turunesh’s coffee,” Medraut said.

“As long as there’s enough sugar in it,” Turunesh added, smiling. She handed Goewin a long-handled pot with a spout on one side. “Fill this with water for me?”

The water went with the ground coffee into a nearly round pot with a long neck that Turunesh said was called a jebena. After the coffee had boiled for a little bit she poured some of it into the long-handled pot, looked at it, then poured it back in the jebena.

“How do you tell when it’s done?” Goewin asked. It had looked like coffee to her.

“It should be very dark for this first pot. When I brew it again it will be lighter, close to what it is right now. Who wants sugar in their cup?”

“Me,” Lleu said promptly. 

“Who said you were having coffee?” Artos asked.

Ginevra said, “Oh, let them have some. It’s not a school night.”

“I want to try mine without sugar,” Goewin decided.

Turunesh poured the coffee from high above small porcelain cups without spilling a drop. Goewin took a sip of hers and was hit with an overwhelming bitter flavor. She swallowed quickly to get it out of her mouth, but Medraut had noticed. “Goewin,” he said. “Do you want some sugar?”

“I’ll try some in my next cup,” she said nonchalantly, and took another sip. It was actually less bitter this time, and tasted more like you would expect from the smell of coffee. By the time she had finished the cup Goewin decided she didn’t want sugar in her second cup, after all.

“Here,” Turunesh said to her after the second round of coffee finished brewing. “You try pouring this time.”

Goewin took the jebena. It had looked easy when Turunesh poured, but it felt too large for her hands. “I think I’m going to spill it.”

Turunesh was unconcerned. “Everyone does, when they’re learning.”

Goewin knelt on a bar stool and carefully tilted the jebena over a cup. She still couldn’t pour from as high as Turunesh did, but at least she only had a couple small spills.

“See?” Turunesh said. “With just a bit more practice you’ll be able to perform the coffee ceremony as well as I do.”

It was late, but unsurprisingly not late enough to prevent Goewin from slipping out the back door and joining him on the porch swing. “Too much caffeine to sleep?” Medraut asked.

“No,” Goewin lied, in a voice that would have been bouncing off the walls if it was corporeal. She pressed her foot against the deck to send the swing backwards before drawing her legs up. “Soooo. You’re in love.”

“Did it seem like I needed you to tell me that?”

“Not really. When are you going to get married?”

“Jesus, Goewin.”

“What? I think that’s a normal question.”

“We’ve barely been dating six months.”

“Okayyy,” Goewin said dismissively. “Except I’m pretty sure you were in love before that. You were talking to Turunesh all the time last summer.”

“Do I look like I came outside to be interrogated?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Goewin wrapped both her arms tight around one of his. “I’m not letting you go until you answer the interrogation.”

“I haven’t talked to Turunesh about it yet.”

“You should do that.”

“Thank you. I don’t think I need relationship advice from a ten year old.”

“I’m basically eleven!”

“My mistake. You are clearly old and wise.” Medraut sighed. “Really, Goewin, I don’t know. Sometime after we’ve both graduated. You’ll have to be patient.”

Goewin loosened her grip without letting go of his arm. “I wasn’t asking for me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious. Me getting a sister is a bonus.” Goewin shifted again to lean her head against her shoulder, which was annoying because she knew it was endearing and somehow it still worked. “You seem really happy with Turunesh. Obviously I want you to stay that way.”

Medraut relented and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I appreciate you looking out for me. You know what else is really obvious?”

Goewin considered for a moment. “It’s past my bedtime?”

“Way past.”

She was not quite asleep when the sound of the doorknob turning alerted her to Medraut coming to bed. “‘M not asleep,” Turunesh mumbled. “You can turn the light on.”

“Don’t need to,” Medraut answered softly. A few seconds later he slipped into bed next to her. The hand that brushed her shoulder was icy.

“Oh! Why are you so cold?”

“I was outside.”

“You said you were just stepping out for a minute.”

“Yes, well, I wasn’t expecting a Goewin interrogation. They’re a bit like the Spanish Inquisition.”

“That seems like the kind of thing you would expect by now.” Turunesh reached over and, finding that his arm was now a tolerable temperature, scooted closer. “What did she need to interrogate you about?”

Medraut took her hand and squeezed it. “You, of course.” It seemed like that might be all he intended to say, and Turunesh didn’t want to pry into private sibling conversation. But eventually he added, “She demanded to know when we’re getting married.”

Turunesh laughed softly. “She’s very perceptive, isn’t she?”

“Disconcertingly. You don’t think it’s too, too…”

“Too what?”

“I don’t actually know what I was going to say. Too soon to be that serious, I guess.”

Turunesh whispered, “Medraut,” and felt him turn his head towards her. “There isn’t a timeline, you know.” He made a noise that was not quite agreement. “I’m scared of how soon it is too. But I have an answer for you.” Where their wrists pressed together she felt her pulse speed up, and could not tell whether his raced to meet it or it was her imagination. “My father says you have to come meet him first.”

His lips brushed her temple so lightly it was barely a kiss. “That’s reasonable. What else?”

“Should there be more?” But she understood the question. “You don’t need to prove yourself to me. I know you.”

He exhaled. “You do.”

“We’d like it if you could visit this summer.”

“I’d like that too.”

Chapter Text

She really should text Medraut, Turunesh decided when she woke up from an accidental nap shivering with a splitting headache. He worried too much, and she didn't want him to skip class for her, but she couldn't stop him from doing either and she did need Nyquil and tea.

Turunesh: Sick again. It started after you left this morning. Can you pick up drugs and tea on your way home?

Medraut: I can skip my last class, it's just exam review. Fever? Have you eaten?

Turunesh: Probably. I had breakfast

Medraut: Be there within an hour. Please drink some water.

Turunesh sighed. Her water bottle was not on the nightstand, and she didn't feel like getting out of bed, but she knew Medraut was right. She put her feet on the floor and leaned against the bed until she felt relatively steady. The water bottle was on the kitchen table, where she been intending to sit and do homework. Turunesh briefly considered returning to this plan before taking the water bottle with her to the couch and curling up under her heaviest blanket.

She was dozing again when Medraut got home, but not asleep enough not to notice his hand warm against her forehead. She opened her eyes to find him kneeling on the floor next to her. "You're burning up," he said quietly. "What else?"

"Everything hurts. I've been sleeping on and off all d--" Turunesh started coughing, which was extra annoying since she hadn't been doing that before. "Ugh."

Medraut frowned, worried. "That sounds like flu again."

"Is it even possible to get the flu twice in one month?"

"I mean, not common, but it's bad this year. We should take you to urgent care. If you did get the flu twice they'll probably prescribe something."

Turunesh winced. Medraut leaned over and kissed her forehead. "That's a very weak glare you're giving me."

"No," she protested. "Just...tomorrow?"

"Okay. Tomorrow." Medraut started to stand up.

Turunesh reached for his hand. "Sit with me?"

He dropped down to kiss her forehead again. "I will. I'm going to make you tea and find a thermometer first."

Turunesh woke up with her back pressed against something warm, which was, she discovered, because Medraut was sitting on the bed behind her with a textbook open in his lap. "You didn't need to skip class," she said. It came out barely above a whisper, because her throat was scratchy and her head still hurt.

"It's Friday," Medraut said, which was true and also not a reason he would skip class. "I'm taking you to urgent care, remember?"

"Mmm." Turunesh pushed herself up to sit, and Medraut immediately wrapped his arms around her to support her.

"You look so miserable. Does anything sound good for breakfast? I'll make something for you while you get ready."

Turunesh tried to think about breakfast, with no result. "Let's just go now, so I can sleep the rest of the weekend."

"Hmm. I'm going to annoyingly continue to insist that you eat something, but it can be later."

The urgent care and pharmacy took much longer than Turunesh would have liked. "I think," she mumbled when Medraut got back in the car after picking up her prescription, "you should have been allowed to call and tell them what to do. Since you were right about everything."

Medraut squeezed her shoulder gently. "I think that's called medical malpractice. Ten more minutes and you can get back in bed."

Bed seemed a long way away. Turunesh stopped at the couch instead. A minute later Medraut crouched in front of her with her water bottle in one hand and medicine in the other. She reluctantly sat up to take them. "Do you want another blanket?"

"Probably."

Medraut fetched the blanket and asked, "Will the kitchen light bother you?"

"No." Turunesh pulled the blankets over her head.

"I'll be as quiet as I can."

That seemed unnecessary since Medraut could be very quiet, but it made a little more sense when Turunesh woke up and heard him talking quietly in the kitchen. "I do know what it looks like, I just don't want to use the spice grinder." A pause. "No, she's in the living room. I'm not sure."

"Medraut."

"Just a minute," he said - to the phone, not Turunesh. He came over and rested his hand on her head. "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you up."

"I don't think you did. What're you doing?"

"Called Muna to get a recipe for something you might feel like eating. Can I run the spice grinder for just a second? I know your head hurts."

"Mmhmm." Turunesh sat up. All her muscles hurt. She rubbed her thighs, which did nothing to ease the ache. "I'm going to take a hot bath."

"I'll start it for you."

Turunesh shook her head too fast and winced. "I'm going to the bathroom anyway."

"Depends."

"Do you want to stay at my parents' house over spring break?"

 Turunesh took a sip of the tea. "I thought everyone was going to be gone."

"They are. Their usual sheep sitter is out of town, too. So really the question is, do we want to sheep sit?"

Would that make more sense if she wasn't sick? Surely it would. "Sheep. sit."

"Like pet sitting, specifically for the sheep. I guess the cats want to be fed occasionally too."

"Right. I like the sheep."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Ginevra kept Shetland sheep for wool, barely enough of them to be called a flock; right now there were nine, but two were pregnant. Turunesh had learned all their names from Goewin and Lleu, who had a tradition of naming the sheep after birds for reasons known only to themselves. She followed Medraut into the sheep pen and a gust of wind immediately blew the gate shut. "It's going to get cold, isn't it," she said, not really a question. The wind had been picking up all day. She scratched behind the ears of the little grey ewe -- named Blue Jay for inscrutable twin reasons -- that had come trotting up to her.

"Depends on what you mean by cold," Medraut said. One of the pregnant ewes shoved her head under his hand, catlike.

She shoved his shoulder lightly. "You know what I mean."

"Alright," Medraut allowed. "It will probably be cold tomorrow, and possibly rainy. We'll do something warm. How do you feel about meaderies?"

It took Turunesh a few seconds to parse the word. "Mead like the Viking drink?"

"Well, yes, but also there's a meadery here. They do tours."

"That sounds warm."

The next evening, Turunesh pulled her feet up onto the couch and rotated her glass of cinnamon mead slowly in her hand, watching the dim light reflect off it. "Is mead more alcoholic than wine?"

"Don't think so. Why?"

"Just a bit wobblier than I expected to feel."

Medraut put his hand on her wrist, stopping the glass turning. "It's easy to drink fast. Maybe put it down for a bit."

"Probably." Turunesh put it down and turned to curl up against Medraut with her arms around his neck, and he put his own glass down so he could use both arms to hold her. "I think--" She paused to formulate the thought. Medraut made a questioning noise. "I think I'd be happy here."

"Would?"

"I mean, living here. After we're both done with school."

Medraut considered for a moment. "You've been complaining about the cold, and relatively speaking this is not cold."

"That's minor. It's..." It was a feeling she didn't think she could describe entirely accurately. "It feels like you belong here."

"Hmm," Medraut said, like this was a new idea, like he was just now considering whether his home felt like home. He kissed the top of her head. "That's how I feel with you, though. I'll be happy wherever we are."

"Me too," Turunesh said. "But-- I don't know. It was just a feeling."

"I'll remember it." He would, of course.