The room Queen Avaloni had given them was by far the largest, fanciest room Tanden had ever stayed in. But he hardly had a chance to enjoy it before Soren yanked him to the side and pinned him against the wall.

Tanden barely even had time to be startled before Soren's lips met his. Tanden pulled one of his hands free to wrap his arm around Soren's shoulders, holding him as close as possible. Caught up in the moment and Soren's intensity, it took some time before he came to his senses enough to break away from Soren's lips.

It didn't deter Soren, who swiftly shifted his attention to trail kisses down Tanden's jaw, along the new line of tattoos, to his neck. Tanden had always enjoyed it when Soren did that, and how he could change it from an act of devotion to dominance. This time, it was unmistakably an act of dominance, but Tanden wasn't quite sure he was in the mood for that.

He ran his hand into Soren's hair and gave it a light tug. Not enough to pull him off, just enough to grab his attention.

"So." Tanden tried to sound firm, but the word came out more of a mumble. "What's next, mate?"

"What's next?" Soren pulled back. But he was still so close, with his hands pressed against the wall on either side of Tanden. Still so physically in control. "Crele, sell the Walloxa, new barquentine. Why are you thinking about that?"

Tanden settled back against the wall. Soren's movement had dislodged his hand, so Tanden trailed his fingers down Soren's chest until they caught on his belt. "That isn't what I was asking."

Soren stared at him for a heartbeat, beautiful green eyes narrowed. "I'm out of practice, remember? Get to the point."

"Did you and Ara—"

"No. We both thought you were dead. He stayed with me, and we comforted each other. That's it."

Tanden nodded and watched his own fingers toy with Soren's belt buckle. "I'm surprised you lasted this long without tossing me onto a bed."

"Self-control is something you struggle with, not me," Soren said. He was obviously very aware of Tanden's fingers, Tanden could tell with how still he was holding himself. "Kuiavadox?"

Tanden shook his head. "I already told you that I didn't do anything. He was interested, but I told him I still missed my husband." He heard Soren's sharp inhale and grinned. "I don't say that word enough, do I?"

"Is there a reason you're delaying things?"

Tanden's fingers stopped fiddling with the belt buckle, and he looked up. "So much for being out of practice. It's just that I don't know what I want."

"I do."

"Know what you want? Yes, that's very clear." He slipped his fingers under Soren's belt, only to be surprised when Soren moved and grabbed his hand.

"No, I know what you want," Soren said. "You want me to carry you over to the bath, then undress you. You want us to get in the bath together, even though we both have wounds and it probably isn't the best idea. Then, you want me to tug you into bed. You want me to take care of you."

He was so accurate, but also so wrong. It was more complicated than that. "Soren—"

"But," Soren interrupted. "You're conflicted. Because you're intrigued about letting me really take control."

Tanden swallowed. Soren's quiet confidence was making it very difficult to think. "What does that mean?"

"I can be gentle and take care of you, which is what you need," Soren said. "Or I can be forceful and rough, which excites you."

"You're assuming that I want you to take charge?"

"No, I know that you want me to take charge," Soren corrected.

"I've never fucked a captain before."

Soren scoffed. "I'll be the captain until we sell the Walloxa. You have plenty of time to explore that. Besides." He paused, and then he was close again. His lips on Tanden's neck, his hand pressing Tanden against the wall. A few kisses later, Soren whispered in his ear, "Don't you reckon that game'll be more fun on the captain's ship?"

Tande could see the appeal. In the fancy room in Navire's castle, Soren was Soren. Beloved, perfect Soren, but not Captain Soren. They needed to be on the Walloxa for that. "That does sound fun."

"Does that mean you're going to let me take care of you?"

Tanden leaned forward, to rest his forehead on Soren's shoulder. He felt Soren shift in response, drawing him away from the wall. "When is it your turn to be taken care of?"

Soren's chest shook as he laughed, but Tanden hadn't meant it as a joke. He raised his head. "Stop that. You've been taking care of me since I broke my ankle. Longer, actually."

"That's my job." Soren's voice was serious and gentle all at once. "I'm your First Mate."

"I don't recall 'take care of the captain when he falls apart' being part of the job description."

"Aye, but it's in the husband description, isn't it?"

He sounded quite proud of the clever remark, and Tanden smiled. "Fine. I'll let you take care of me, but first, I'm going to do something for you." He gave Soren a nudge, and as always, found it interesting how easily Soren stepped back. Even when Soren was undoubtedly in control, when he was radiating power and confidence, he always knew the instant he had to acquiesce.

Tanden caught his hand as he moved past, and drew Soren over to the bath. Soothing steam hovered above the water, scented with a warm, spicy oil that Tanden couldn't immediately identify. Nearby, a golden platter held numerous little bottles of soap and oil. A collection of medical supplies, new bandages and salves, sat on a second, silver platter.

"You're right, in that we shouldn't bathe at the same time," Tanden said, turning around. "So, you're going to go first. It'll be easier to keep your wound out of the water. I'll take care of you first. Then you can do whatever you want to me."

"Don't say 'whatever' unless you mean it."

Tanden laughed. "I do. Come here." He gave Soren's hand a tug, then released him once he had stepped closer.

The first thing that had to go was Soren's tunic. Tanden loosened the laces at Soren's throat, then slipped his hands under the hem and pushed it up. Soren helped tug it over his head and toss it aside.

Normally, Tanden would spend the following moment staring at Soren's tattoos in appreciation. This time, something else caught his eye. He gently brushed his fingers against the scar on Soren's hip. It was freshly healed, still a little pale and crossed with a pair of stitches.

"Does it hurt?"

"I feel it sometimes, but it's not bad," Soren said. "An itch, at times. Or a twinge."

It really was remarkably similar to Tanden's own wound. Tanden trailed his fingers in a loose circle around the scar one more time before finding Soren's belt buckle and finishing the task he had started earlier.

When Soren's pants caught on his boots, Tanden realized he really should have taken him off first. But Soren didn't give him a chance. He kicked off his boots and pants, letting them land in a messy heap near his tunic.

Soren stood there, perfect and whole, naked but for the bandaging around his right forearm, his compass ring, and the key dangling around his neck. Tanden had been so afraid to see burn scars, but Soren seemed untouched. It really was no wonder that the Alvarians had thought he was a ghost.

Tanden didn't realize he was staring until Soren crossed his arms and asked, with an amused lilt in his voice, "Well? Or are you going to stare at me all night?"

Tanden blinked, and said roughly, "Get in the water."

Soren exhaled a quiet laugh, but did what he had been told. He groaned appreciatively as he sank into the warm water and leaned back against the sloped end of the bath. He left his bandaged right arm balanced carefully on the edge.

The soaps and oils were labelled in Navirian, which gave Tanden the perfect excuse to not look at Soren. He just needed a moment, to calm down, to focus. Soren deserved all of his attention. He uncorked a few bottles to smell them before making his choice and turning back to the tub. Only to see that Soren was staring at him.

"What?"

Soren shrugged. "Just trying to figure out what's got you all caught up in your head. You should take off your tunic, by the way. Wouldn't want it to get wet."

"Subtle," Tanden teased, but reached for the hem of his tunic anyway, and smoothly pulled it over his head. He expected Soren's gaze to lock on the wide belt of bandaging around his waist, so he was pleasantly surprised with Soren just gave it a cursory glance before closing his eyes.

"All right. Take care of me, then."

Somehow it was easier with Soren's eyes closed. Tanden poured the liquid soap onto his hands, then stepped closer and began to scrub it into Soren's hair. His mind wandered as he worked. When the soap started to create white bubbles under his hands, he thought about kissing Soren on the night of the Tier Kuin-shon festival, knee-deep in snow while ribbons of colour had shimmered in the sky. When he rubbed soap onto Soren's broad, tattooed shoulders, he remembered getting his own tattoo done on Crele, and how Soren had insisted he care for it properly afterwards. When he slid his hands across Soren's chest, he thought about Ara decorating Soren's skin with a henna tattoo.

Soren was being quiet, which Tanden appreciated. He wasn't good at this sort of subservient role, and any distraction would have made it extremely difficult to continue.

Tanden picked out an oil next, and turned back to the tub to massage it into Soren's skin. Oil brought one distinct, important memory to mind. The first night they had met in Deor-Morcea. When Soren hadn't had oil on hand, but offered himself up anyway. Before they knew each other, when Soren might have just become another one-night stand. Instead, it had become the night that changed everything.

"You know," Soren spoke up drowzily. "I bet most lords never—"

"Stop," Tanden interrupted before he could finish the thought. He didn't want to think about being a lord. He just wanted to be Tanden. Not a lord or a captain, just a man utterly in love with another man. Soren's answering chuckle proved that he wasn't offended, but Tanden wanted to take the bite off of his words anyway, so he leaned in to give Soren a quick kiss on the cheek. "Don't distract me."

"But I've realized how much fun it is."

"Shh."

Soren smiled, his eyes still closed. "Annoying, isn't it?"

It wasn't hard to read between those lines. "I don't know how you put up with me." Tanden gave Soren another kiss and got back to lavishing him with attention. Part of him knew that he needed to rush the bath along if he wanted the water to still be hot for his turn, but he was enjoying the simple pleasure of touching Soren. His fingers pressing against firm muscles and oil-slick skin, tangling in Soren's hair, tracing tattoos and scars.

He had almost lost this. Not just the ability to touch Soren, but everything that came with his presence. The love and comfort. The connection of having someone who really knew and understood him. Without Soren, he doubted he would ever find that kind of happiness again.

He realized he was crying only when Soren turned, his beautiful green eyes open again, and his left hand reaching to cup Tanden's chin. "It's over, Tanden. You have me back."

Tanden groaned. He crossed his arms on the side of the tub and rested his forehead on them. Soren draped a damp arm over his shoulders.

"I told you, didn't I? I'll give you everything you need."

"And then you died."

"Tanden." When Tanden didn't response, Soren slipped his fingers under his chin. Tanden obliged, raising his head just enough to meet his gaze. Soren smiled. "I think it's your turn."

***

It took a little more coaxing, but finally Tanden had stripped off the rest of his clothes and slipped into the bath. Soren had decided against putting on clothing, or even using one of the plush towels to cover himself up. The room was comfortably warm, and he suspected he would be taking off any clothing right after Tanden's bath, anyway, so it seemed pointless.

He had stepped into the room fully intending to lead them through the evening, so he wasn't as nervous as he might have been without a chance to prepare. Or maybe, he wasn't nervous because he had changed. Stepping up, becoming the captain, and going after Toliver had certainly changed him.

But not everything had changed. He still felt incredibly lucky to be with Tanden. Not the Lord, or the Captain, although those titles were important. Just Tanden, the brilliant, beautiful man.

It was also easier to step up when Tanden seemed so fragile. His journey had been harder, Soren recongized that. Tanden had thought Soren was dead longer than Soren thought Tanden was dead. And while Soren had been rescuing their men and sailing after Toliver, Tanden had been captured and threatened before a slow trip down a long river. A trip where the innate skills he always leaned on meant nothing.

Soren didn't unbraid Tanden's hair. Ara had just done it that morning, and it looked far better than whenever Soren tried to help, so he left it and concentrated on washing Tanden's shoulders and back, first. He ran his hands over Tanden's tattoo. Every place they had visited before their trip south was included in tiny letters, woven in among the Crelan waves that surrounded the word Wanderlust. Soren read the names, lingering over the ones that meant the most to him.

Deor-Morcea, when he had been lonely and invited a ridiculously charming man into his room.

Stanin, where he had agreed to become First Mate, among other things.

West Draulin, where he had met Tanden's family.

Krier Till, where they had met both Jale and Ara.

Co, when they invented their own way to become married.

But while some places held more meaning than others, every name on Tanden's back brought up memories. Soren let the memories come back to him as he scrubbed the soap over Tanden's skin. Tanden was quiet, which clearly meant that he needed time to think. Soren was content to work in silence. He washed Tanden's shoulders, back and arms, all the while carefully keeping his right arm out of the water. When the bath was done, he helped Tanden step out of the tub and had him sit on the edge.

Soren carefully unwound the now wet bandaging around Tanden's waist and put it aside. Tanden's wound looked like it was healing well. It was a healthy pink colour with no signs of infection. Soren turned to the tray of medical supplies. There were a few bottles of salves, labelled in Navirian, of course. Soren held up two and spoke for the first time since taking control.

"Which one?"

Tanden cast each a brief glance before nodding towards the one in Soren's right hand.

Soren didn't ask why, he trusted that Tanden had made the right choice. He put aside the other bottle and opened the correct one. The salve inside was thick, sticky, and smelled sharply of herbs. Soren scooped some out and carefully applied it to the edges of Tanden's wound.

Tanden inhaled sharply, but indicated with a wave that Soren could continue. Once the salve was applied, Soren wiped his hand off on a towel and got to work placing new bandages over the wound. He was just wrapping a long piece of cloth around Tanden's waist to keep the bandages in place when Tanden started to speak.

"I came to a realization. This whole trip South, I've been struggling with my own identity... but it sort of became this idea of where I belong. Or who I belong to, I suppose, and... I'm not sure if that makes any sense. No, let me finish," Tanden said, just as Soren opened his mouth. "My point is, I've had visions or dreams of gods and goddesses arguing over me, but someone that kept coming back was the Wanderlust's figurehead. She said I belong to her, and she was right. Partially. But I think, more accurately, it's you. Maybe that's clear, I just... felt the need to say it out loud."

Soren smiled as he tucked the end of the cloth away, securing the bandages. "I think you made that clear when you married me."

"You would think that, because you're capable of just accepting things for what they are instead of reading into evey thought and action. I don't like overthinking everything, you know. It's just how I work."

"I know." Soren took his hand and led Tanden across the room. The bed was beckoning, and Soren was ready to climb in. He sat on the edge of the bed and tugged Tanden closer, so that he was standing between Soren's knees.

"Are you going to let me take care of you?" Soren asked, looping his arms around Tanden's waist.

"I already said yes."

"You might have changed your mind."

"I said you can do whatever you want to me."

"That's a generous offer."

"Maybe I'm feeling generous." Tanden slid his hands over Soren's shoulders and leaned down. He kissed Soren's forehead, and Soren lifted his face to meet Tanden's next kiss with his lips.

He had to remind himself to be gentle, when he pulled Tanden closer and flipped over, so he could press Tanden into the soft blankets.

Whatever he wanted really was a generous offer, and what he wanted was to make them both feel good without aggravating either of their wounds too much. Soren pressed another kiss against Tanden's lips, then propped himself up carefully with his left arm. He cupped Tanden's cheek with his right hand, and ran his thumb under Tanden's eyes, along the new line of dots. Tanden's breathing hitched.

"I love them," Soren promised, kissing him again. He moved then, trailing kisses along Tanden's jaw to his neck. He smiled to himself when Tanden reacted like he always did, by tangling a hand into the back of Soren's hair. He'd never admitted it, but he loved Tanden's fingers running through his hair. Tanden's fingers gave away more information than he probably realized, and it had become an easy way for Soren to gauge Tanden's ongoing mood. Whether he enjoyed something or not, whether he was getting impatient, whether he was trying to guide Soren or simply holding on.

Tanden's hand remained as Soren continued his path downward, kissing across Tanden's chest, giving the wound careful distance, then reaching his destination. He knew Tanden had trouble understanding that Soren truly enjoyed this act. It was subservient, maybe, but it gave him so much power at the same time. He loved making Tanden fall apart.

Tanden's grip on his hair shifted, which Soren interpreted as apprehension. He lifted his head. "I'm not doin' anythin' I don't want t' do."

"Don't do that," Tanden grumbled, but Soren knew it was in regards to the accent, not the blowjob.

"You love it," Soren replied, in regards to both.

He interrupted Tanden's retort by getting started.

Tanden was so easy to read when he wasn't thinking. Soren understood every involuntary noise, growled word, and hair tug. He knew exactly what Tanden liked and what he wanted. Despite his own body demanding attention, Soren took his time with Tanden. He could have ended things quickly, but it was much more fun to draw things out. He enjoyed every aspect of sucking Tanden off, from the way Tanden whined his name to the taste.

But eventually he was ready to move on. He guided Tanden over the edge, and then, while Tanden was still recovering, climbed over him again to give him a kiss.

Tanden's hand was still tangled in his head, and he used his grip to try to pull Soren closer, although it wasn't really possible. "Took your damn time," Tanden grumbled between kisses.

Soren smiled against Tanden's lips. "I like making you fall apart. Now..." Another kiss. "How about we go to sleep?"

"Don't you fucking dare," Tanden growled. His free hand was roaming down Soren's chest, but with those words it found its target. "I said whatever and I meant it."

Tanden's hand was very distracting. Soren moaned and dropped his head to rest on Tanden's shoulder. It took him a heartbeat to think of the words he needed to reply, "Free... rein?"

"How many times do I have to say it?" Tanden asked. "Whatever you want, Captain."