using the small axe he’d scrounged from the carriage, he cut down some smaller trees and extended the shelter, turning it into a hut, with four solid walls and a roof.
Vasili still didn’t speak.
Each day, he took himself down to the creek where Niko knew there to be a wide, slow-moving pool, and came back with wet hair. Vasili always went alone. He needed it. The fresh scars over the old would haunt him for a long time.
Niko hammered a log into place along one of the hut’s walls, replacing a rotten one, when he spotted Vasili walking up the creek. He’d hacked off his hair to jaw-length.
Niko swung his hammer, missed the log, and struck his thumb. “Fuck!”
Vasili spooked, freezing still, ready to bolt.
Niko emerged from the hut, shaking the pain from his hand. “I like it,” he said, hoping to relax him. “Your hair, I mean.”
Vasili’s mouth tilted into a lopsided smile. In the sunlight, he looked better than he had in days. Cheeks warmer. His stride more confident. More like his old self but still jittery, like cracked glass. Niko’s heart ached every time Vasili winced, or when the prince lost himself staring into the fire and the memories hidden there.
He couldn’t bring himself to suggest they leave. Vasili wasn’t ready. He might never be ready. But a few more days rest would do him good.
Niko fixed up the hut, fished, foraged—all things he’d done on the front line, and Vasili watched and healed.
Returning from foraging late in the afternoon, he veered from his usual path to stop at the river to drink, but as he approached the river’s edge, he’d forgotten to avoid the deep pool Vasili had claimed as his and found the prince shoulder-deep in the water, his hands running through his hair, washing it clean.
A twig snapped under Niko’s boot, and Vasili jolted, twisting to land his fearful gaze on Niko.
“I, er…” Niko ducked his head. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Wait,” the prince croaked.
Hearing him speak after so long jolted Niko to a stop. The one word had been deep and rough, like he’d pulled it from its hidden place.
The frown that made his face complicated came with a whole lot of hurt that he either didn’t want to hide or he’d forgotten how to. “I don’t…” He cleared his throat. “Will you stay?”
Niko set his bag of foraged food down. Vasili still stood in the pool like he was lost. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, and Niko’s heart lurched. To Etara’s hell with it all… He tore off his shirt, kicked off his boots, and stepped up to the pool’s edge. Vasili’s wary gaze held him there. He looked like he might bolt again, and now Niko was stuck between trying to ease his mind and wanting to just go back to their hut and leave him be.
Vasili dipped his chin, which seemed like an acknowledgment, and Niko slowly waded into the water. He wobbled over some of the more slippery stones and caught Vasili’s tiny smiles. If he could make him smile again, really smile, then getting wet would be worth it.
Then Niko was chest-deep in the pool and facing Vasili. Water lapped around Vasili’s pale shoulders. He stared at Niko, so raw and open, utterly unarmed. Gods, he looked young.
Niko raised his hands, lifting them out of the water so Vasili could see them. The prince frowned.
“Trust me?”
Vasili sucked on his bottom lip again and nodded. And if this was what Vasili was like when Julian had found him, then fuck that bastard for taking advantage of him. Blood or no, nobody had the right to hurt a man so thoroughly broken.
“Turn around,” Niko said, nodding encouragement when Vasili’s gaze flicked to his.
The prince slowly turned but quickly glanced over his shoulder, checking Niko’s location.
“I’m just going to touch your shoulders. Do you want that?”
A short nod came a second later, and Niko brushed his rough hands together to warm them. His skin was rough from working, but right now, he figured Vasili could do with some feeling. Slowly, he settled his hands gently on the prince’s shoulders. Vasili let out a short sigh, as though he’d been holding his breath. Niko gently rubbed his thumbs against Vasili’s neck, massaging in light circles. The scars were fewer on his back, which was why Niko had asked him to turn. This wouldn’t have been possible anywhere on his chest or arms, where most of the damage lay.
“How’s that?