“Feeling any better?”
Trismit remained fixated at the plate of food in front of him. Despite the severity of what had happened, the Rethan government had been very calm and understanding with him. He hadn’t been locked up or persecuted or anything like that. In fact, all they had done was put him in a nice hotel (normally meant for travellers of other races) and gave him a list of phone numbers.
Standing in the doorway was Retvik. Trismit had heard him coming, heard him cursing at his fumbles with the key card and trying to get into the room, struggling with his broken left arm. Retvik’s room was next door, but the two rooms were connected together by an internal door – Retvik had insisted that Trismit not be left alone and Trismit was pretty glad. Even though he was injured, the gold-edged Rethan and his imposing presence made Trismit feel safe for the first time in decades.
“Not really, Retvik. Food is weird. I am used to eating it via a tube.”
“Understandable.”
Retvik muttered something to himself, then sat down on the bed next to Trismit. These rooms weren’t huge and only had folding tables, rather than a proper dining table to eat off of.
“What about you, Retvik?”
“I wake up and wonder if I am awake. I went to make a call with Gath to arrange a meeting and discuss our divorce and he said he did not want a divorce. Yet I vividly remember having a conversation with Gath about him asking for a divorce. No, turns out I never called him while I was locked away, and there was no divorce what so ever.”
With a sigh, Trismit prodded at his food. It consisted of mashed potatoes and slices of incredibly tender and somewhat fatty meat, having been slow-cooked at a low temperature. By Trismit’s foot was an empty bin with a bag in it, in case he needed to throw up. “I am sorry about that.”
“Why are you apologising?”
“He made me make that whole dream sequence. Part of his bid to enthral you.”
“I… I do not follow.”
“You are above most Rethans. Your mind is strong. You can only be enthralled via a romantic connection. Severing your relationship with your partner was how he wanted to go about it.”
Still sighing, Trismit got up from the bed and peered out of the window. The vastness of the city was almost overwhelming to him. All these beings actually out there and living their lives, being normal. Their lives may have been boring but at least they had been real. But for Trismit, living his own real life was terrifying to him. A foreign concept, almost. He’d wasted the first thirty years of his life and now didn’t know what to do with his remaining years.
“Do you want to talk or do you want me to leave me alone?”
“If I wanted to be left alone, you would not let me.”
Retvik shrugged, helping himself to some of Trismit’s food, only to realise that it was cold. “Of course I would. I will do anything you ask, within reason. You are, after all, my superior.”
Trismit’s eyes widened as he turned back to Retvik. “What? Say that again?”
“You are my superior officer.”
“How?”
Again, Retvik shrugged, picking up the plate and taking it over to the small microwave to reheat the pile of mash and meat. “Well, Litvir was our superior officer and he is dead, as is Kuta, so the next vok in the Line of Order and Superiority is you, because you have been a captain longer than I have. Technically, you are the General of the 11th Legion now.”
Trismit didn’t say anything. Instead he seemed to sulk briefly, before throwing himself on the bed. Retvik wasn’t sure whether Trismit was crying or laughing and swiftly returned to his side.
“I do not want any of this. I want to go back to sleep. Actually, no, I want to experience all the things and then go back to sleep!”
Retvik sat back down on the bed, pulling Trismit towards him, giving him a gentle, one-armed hug. “You can cry, if you want to.”
Trismit sniffed, then hugged Retvik tightly, refusing to let go.
“We need to speak to a therapist or two…” Retvik sighed.
Trismit sat up, wiping his eyes. “Who in the name of the Light knows how to deal with what we went through? I… I have so much messed up with me. I am unfixable.”
“It has not even been twenty four hours. You are being too harsh on yourself.”
Trismit sighed, lying back down, staring at the ceiling. “We walked through hell and back. We woke up from painful dreams. We killed someone. The authorities came and asked a lot of questions then told us to stay here. I am… falling apart on the inside.”
“Like I said, we need to speak to some therapists…” Retvik patted Trismit on the shoulder. “I know this sounds silly, considering all that happened, but we both need to rest, to close our eyes and get some sleep.”
“What about everyone else though?”
“Let everyone else deal with everything else. You have the ability to rest, you should take it.”
Trismit hesitated, pulling a blanket over himself.
“Retvik?”
“Yes?”
“Can you stay with me, please? Like, in this room? I do not want to be on my own.”
Retvik smiled, getting up off the bed and settling down in the fake leather chair in the corner. “Of course, ser. Whatever you need. We are safe now.”
“But what of the future?”
“It is bright for you. Now get some rest. I will be here, by your side, until you wake up.”
“Thank you…” Trismit muttered as he closed his eyes.
“No, thank you, Trismit. You saved us both. You should be proud…”