“Mercy mission to the kobold race,” Margaret called back, before switching to Draconic. “I brought you some food so you won’t starve.”

“You brought me an unborn child,” the kobold said evenly.

“There was no blood in any of the eggs I cooked. They were all infertile,” Margaret replied, taking the ropes off the kobold’s hands.

She guarded the kobold as he began picking up pieces of egg and stuffing them in his long snout. When he had finished, she rebound his wrists and made her way back down to the common room.

“Thomas, are your spells ready for the day?” Marc questioned as Margaret reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Not yet. I just woke up,” Thomas said.

Finishing his eggs, he went back to his room As he was walking towards his room, Logan passed him, shoving him aside while hissing, “Fag”.

“I heard that Logan!” Frank called.

Logan scowled as he walked down the stairs. He headed to a table near the corner of the room, pulling out a hunk of dried meat from his bag.

“I made some eggs,” Margaret offered.

“I have food,” Logan said rudely.

Margaret shrugged and looked at Frank.

“How did you two embrace the elves so well? Poor Thomas isn’t this much of a dick.”

“He’s a sweet guy,” Frank said without thinking.

Marc and Margaret shared a knowing look, that did not go unnoticed.

“What?” Frank said defensively. “I mean it. He and I were talking, and he was feeling really disgusted by the fact that he killed a bunch of kobolds.”

“Kobolds are monsters,” Marc said.

“I tried telling him that, but he kept talking about how kobolds still have families, and loved ones.”

“Well shit,” Marc said after a pause. “This complicates things.”

“They’re beasts that need to be put down,” Logan called. “Who cares what the pretty boy says?”

“We all care. I don’t want to be destroying a family,” Margaret snapped.

“Darith’s Blessed Dragon, why did Thomas have to bring this up?” Marc sighed.

The group sat in silence for a few minutes.

“This is a good opportunity for us to get some gold,” Marc said.

“That’s shallow,” Frank replied.

“I know. But if we don’t kill the kobolds, they will attack the town again.” Marc sighed.

A man walked through the door.

“You guys ready?” he asked.

“What about the kobold we captured?” Marc asked.

“He’s going into the town dungeons.”

Thomas came down the stairs again, leading Garyn. The man blanched at the sight of the wolf, but he motioned for the group to follow him.

“We have discovered that the monsters have taken a child from us,” the man said, as they walked to a group of horse riders. “Jakni Erla is leading the attempt to find her.”

He pointed at a man wearing a sky blue breastplate. The guy looked like he was no older than fifteen years.

“We’ll find the child,” Marc reassured him.

“Shit, more horses,” Frank groaned.

Five mounts were led out from the group of thirty, and Thomas immediately walked towards them, followed by Garyn. Four horses tried to bolt, but one actually stepped towards Thomas, sniffing his hand.

“Wow. I’ve never seen a horse willingly walk near a wolf,” the boy who was leading the horse said.

“Does he have a name?” Thomas asked.

“Collin,” the boy said, handing the lead to the druid.

“Hey Collin,” Thomas said softly, gently rubbing the horse’s nose.

The horse was black as the night sky, five feet tall at the withers, and of a sturdy build. He carried a black saddle, which Thomas immediately set about removing.

“Hey, Frank! Get on your horse already!” Margaret said.

Thomas glanced at Frank while handing the saddle back to the boy. The bard was staring his horse down.

“What do you think? Can you take two?” Thomas ask.

The horse nickered, and Thomas led him to Frank.

“Okay, time to get up,” Thomas said, grabbing Frank.

He hoisted the bard onto Collin’s back and leapt up behind him.

“What the fuck!?” Frank yelped, clutching Collin around the neck.

“Loosen up Frank,” Thomas laughed, wrapping his arms around Frank’s torso so he could hold him up.

“Alright, we are going to have to track these beasts,” Jakni said, walking up to the head of the pack.

He was dressed rather fancily, and he wore a rapier on his side, and a light blue breastplate, though that was the extent of his armour.

“Tracking will be unnecessary,” Marc called. “We have a map of the entrance to the nest, and a map of the nest itself.”

He rode up and handed the man the maps.

“Perfect. This will help us a lot. Okay, guys, this thing is just a day’s journey away. We should make it there tomorrow morning,” Jakni announced. “Let’s get going.”

They stopped five hours later, to take a quick break. The group dismounted by a river, Thomas helping Frank off Collin’s back.

“I hate horses,” Frank shuddered, hurrying away from the animal.

Thomas rubbed Collin, then made his way to Frank.

“You know I’d never let you fall, right?” he said.

“I trust you. It’s the horse I don’t trust,” Frank said.

“Hey, I have never heard you play that thing,” Thomas said, pointing at Frank’s violin. “Aren’t bards supposed to be musical?”

“I hardly think now is the time,” Frank said.

“You might be able to get some coins out of these guys,” Thomas suggested.

Frank sighed.

“I’m not going to play for them, but I’ll let you hear me play,” he said, pulling his violin out.

Frank began playing a random song, and Thomas sat against a rock, listening. When the song was over, he said, “That was really good.”

“I want to try something,” Frank said, putting his violin back in its case.

Switching to the Elven tongue, he began singing. Thomas almost laughed. He was singing a nursery rhyme.

“Okay, um, that one could use some improvement,” he said.

“Asshole,” Frank smirked.

“Wow, hearing that in Elvish almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Get back to the horses you two. We’re heading out again,” Jakni said, stepping into view. “And cut out the Elvish.”

Thomas shrugged and whistled for Garyn. The wolf came trotting up, a dead rabbit in his jaws.

“Good boy,” Thomas said, patting him on the head. “But you won’t get to eat it.”

He made his way back to Collin.

“Are you ready Frank?” he asked.

“No.”

“How about now?”

“No.”

Thomas grinned as he grabbed Frank, and tossed him onto Collin’s back again.

“Fuck you, Thomas!” Frank laughed, trying to catch his balance.

Thomas leapt nimbly onto Collin’s back and grabbed Frank before the bard could fall off.

“I’m going to make you comfortable with horses,” he said, as the group started their journey again.

“Comfortable with a horse’s dick,” Logan said, trotting past them.

“Fuck off,” Frank snapped at him.

They reached the forest an hour later, as the sun fell lower in the sky. Thomas recognized several pine trees interspersed with some oak and birch. He looked at the trees in wonder, having never seen trees as tall as these. For another two hours, they followed a creek, stopping in a small clearing for the night. Thomas, Marc, and Logan all set up tents, and Frank joined Thomas in his while Margaret crawled into Marc’s tent. Several of the humans snickered at the strange pairings, but no one tried to stop them.

The tent was not very big, but it had room for both Frank and Thomas. Their bedrolls were touching, as they laid them out. The two got into their separate sleeping bags, and Frank took Thomas’ hand.

“Thank you for helping me with the horse,” he whispered.

“Frank, I would do anything for you,” Thomas said quietly. “And it’s not because I’m gay. It’s because, as spotty as our memories are, I can’t help feeling you are the best friend I have ever had.”

“Can we be more than friends?” Frank asked.

Thomas inhaled sharply.

“Really? You’d want to be with me?” he breathed.

“I keep telling yourself not to sell yourself short,” Frank said.

“Frank-”

“Thomas, the next word from your mouth had better be either yes or no.”

“Yes,” Thomas murmured.

He moved closer to Frank, and their lips met. Frank kicked his way out of his bedroll and wrapped his arms around Thomas, as their kiss deepened.

“What are we going to tell the others?” Thomas asked, pulling his mouth away.

“Nothing. If they don’t know yet, they’ll figure it out,” Frank whispered, kissing Thomas’ neck.

Thomas wriggled out of his bedroll, and let Frank pull him against the bard’s body.

“I have wanted to do this for so long,” he breathed. “But I want to do it away from prying ears.”

He kissed Frank again, then pulled away a few inches.

“We should get some sleep,” Frank sighed in agreement.

Thomas rolled over, and Frank wrapped his arms around him. They were soon both snoring lightly, tired from a day of riding.