It took a long time for Areti to heal properly. The wound healed within weeks, but being able to run without getting tired quickly took even longer. His duties were put on hold and he was replaced with other messengers, who were courteous enough to give him news of the war whenever he happened to cross their paths. 

Kallus had fallen with such certainty that some generals were unsure if they could ever get it back, but the enemy had been stopped before they ever dared to reach Pethra. They weren’t being pushed back, merely stalled, but it was only a matter of time before something changed. Those stationed at Pethra had to keep their wits about them at all times and train at all hours of the day. 

That included Ambrus and Petros, who spent less time with him as he healed, focusing on their sparring and training. Areti had gone out to watch them every so often, marveling at the way they moved together, as if they knew what move the other was going to make. If they were facing each other, there was no telling who would win. If they teamed up, then they were always the victors. 

Areti ran when he could, mainly around the perimeter of Pethra’s walls. With every day that passed, he could run a little further, but he was never sure if he would be well enough when the war inevitably came for the castle. They’d moved him in his own quarters to make room for other injured soldiers weeks ago, giving him nothing more than a cot in a room that barely fit anything else. 

So it was Petros’s quarters he spent the most time in. Sometimes with them, most of the time without them. They were far busier than he was, meaning he could collapse in the bed for a few hours without being disturbed. 

Which is exactly what he did when he came back from his latest run, the sun high in the sky and begging him to stay awake. It simply wasn’t possible. His runs might be getting longer, but they always left him exhausted. With a sigh, he dropped onto the massive bed he had spent more time in than anywhere else in the castle, falling asleep within minutes of resting his head on the pillow. 

The nightmares still plagued him. Not every time he slept, but most. He was lucky enough to enjoy a peaceful, dreamless sleep for the first time in a while, exhaustion knocking him out completely. He was given no visions of the people he had killed, the blood on his hands, or the people he loved dying in front of him. The Gods were being kind. 

He awoke when the sun was setting, bathing the room in shades of orange and purple. There was a warmth at his back and arms around his waist. He smiled and sunk into it, not caring which of his partners it was. 

“You’re awake,” Ambrus muttered, not a hint of sleep in his voice. “Petros is getting us food.”

“Have you been here the whole time?” Areti asked, rolling over to face the other man. 

With a mischievous grin, Ambrus leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You looked warm, can you blame me?” he answered and tugged Areti closer. “Besides, you know how much I like to do this.”

Areti let out a hum, eyes drifting shut once again. It had taken some getting used to, being held by both Ambrus and Petros the way he had longed to be. Navigating their relationship took time, especially when none of them truly knew how it was supposed to work, but Areti was happy enough with the affection he was given. 

Sometimes, it was hard. He’d lose himself in his thoughts, and remember how he had felt when he’d been nothing more than their messenger, convinced that the other shoe would drop at any minute and he’d be left used and unwanted once more. When that happened, he was quiet, unwilling to be touched, and both his partners knew that they needed to hold him even tighter until he was calm again. 

Time and time again they proved that they wanted him, that they felt the same way. And while Areti was still working on building up trust and forgiveness, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t happy. 

Ambrus’s hand moved slowly through his hair, playing with the tangles that had formed while he’d been sleeping. He couldn’t say how long they lay there before the door opened and Petros walked in, footsteps quiet as if they still believed Areti was still sleeping. Another hand parted the hair from his forehead and dry lips pressed against his temple. 

“He’s awake,” Ambrus said, amusement in his voice. “Just dozing.”

“Oh,” Petros replied and when Areti opened his eyes to smile at them, he caught sight of the embarrassed flush to their cheeks. “I have news.”

Areti raised an eyebrow. “And food, I hope,” he said.

Petros gestured towards the table, where three plates of food sat waiting for them. With a groan, Areti pulled himself from Ambrus’s warm embrace and stood from the bed, only for Petros to push him back down again. 

“Rest,” they said, hands soft and gentle against Areti’s shoulders. 

“I can get my food myself, you do know that, right?” he said, but gave Petros a grateful look as soon as the cool plate landed in his grasp.

Behind him, Ambrus chuckled and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Let them dote on you,” he said, beaming at his partner. “It’s what they like to do.”

Petros scoffed and joined them both on the bed, sitting awkwardly on the edge. “I have never once heard you complain,” they said. 

“And you never will,” Ambrus said with a surety that had come from a years-long relationship. Areti could only hope that he one reached the same point with the both of them, as impossible as it sometimes felt. 

He ate slowly, a small smile on his face as both his partners continued to bicker at each other from opposite sides of the bed. He was still tired, but from the sounds of things, both Ambrus and Petros were done with their duties until the morning. They would spend the night with him, holding him, making sure he knew he was cared for. 

When all three of them were done, plates on the table and bickering slowed to a stop, they curled up together in the middle of the bed, nothing more than a warm tangle of limbs. Areti’s head rested against Petros’s chest, his body held by Ambrus’s loving embrace. He could have fallen asleep like that again if he’d truly wanted to, but there wasn’t a lot of time in the day that he could spend with the two of them and he was going to take every second he could. 

Behind him, Ambrus let out a contented hum and kissed the back of Areti’s neck. “Petros, my love,” he said, voice thick with sleepiness. “You said you had news.”

“That I do,” Petros replied and shuffled until they were sitting up, leaving Areti and Ambrus as a tangled lump on the bed. Areti peered up at them, nerves warring away at him. It didn’t seem to be anything bad, given the way Petros’s eyes crinkled with adoration. “I have been given my new station.”

No, perhaps this was bad news. They had only been together for a few weeks and most of it was still tentative. Never once had Petros been given a station outside of Pethra and while they might be excited at the prospect of actually doing something, Areti wasn’t sure if they had realised what it meant for the three of them. 

Ambrus was the next to sit up, a serious frown on his face as he pulled Areti up with him. “You have?” he asked, voice quiet and filled with apprehension. 

“The front lines, which is… unfortunate,” they said, lips curling down into a frown. Immediately, panic swirled in Areti’s gut, but he had known from the start that at least one of them would be sent out to fight again. He had just always assumed that it would be Ambrus. “Not for another month at the very least, but I spoke to the generals, had some strings pulled. I hate using my status but…”

“But what, Petros? Don’t tell me you willingly volunteered yourself to go out there,” Ambrus growled and detached himself from Areti. 

Wincing, Petros shook their head. “No, but I volunteered you.”

“What?”

It was easy to tell that the conversation was not going the way Petros had hoped it would. “They were going to send you elsewhere, far away from us. I wouldn’t let them,” they explained, gaze on the blankets around them. “They actually listened this time when I said you were my personal servant. I’m leaving in a month, you’re coming with me this time.” Somehow, that made it so much worse. Areti wasn’t just about to lose Petros to the front lines of a bloody war, but Ambrus as well. Had they not thought of him when they’d spoken to the generals? He wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t. They’d been with Ambrus far longer than they’d been with him, of course they were more devoted. Areti might be well aware of the fact that it never failed to make his heart ache. 

“And here I was expecting to never have to fight again,” Ambrus muttered, running a hand through his hair with a rueful laugh. “At least I’ll be with you this time.”

The pair shared a kiss, something soft and sweet and more than a little sad. Areti wanted to look away, to be petty and angry, but couldn’t find it within him to do so. Seeing them together always made his chest flutter. After so long dealing with their separation, even Areti felt a thrill whenever he saw their easy affection. 

He couldn’t be angry at them for being happy, even if it seemed like they had forgotten his own needs. Was it selfish? The answer to his question eluded him, like most did when it came to the dynamics of their unusual relationship. They were still figuring it out, which only made the fact that they were leaving worse. 

It was Petros who noticed him first, their gaze drifting over to him when Ambrus pulled away. Immediately, they went taut, cheeks flushed with something that could have been shame or embarrassment. Areti couldn’t tell.

“Neither of us has much of a choice, Areti,” they said, reaching out to grab his hand. “It was all I could do to keep Ambrus with me.”

Areti shook his head, holding tighter to the warmth against his palm. “No, no, I understand,” he whispered. “I think I felt the same for a while, like we would be here until the end of the war. I very well might be, but I should have known you would have been called away at some point.”

Ambrus’s hands came up to cradle his face. “You know it won’t change anything, don’t you?” he asked, smiling the way he always did, bright and blinding. “Petros and I were separated and it didn’t impede our feelings in the slightest.”

“You and Petros were together for years before that happened,” he said, unable to stop the words from spilling from his lips. 

The silence that followed made him wince. All three of them knew that sometimes Areti was still unsure of the feelings and affection being shown to him, which was - unfortunately - understandable. Speaking of it was almost always awkward and usually led to in depth conversations in order to reassure him. From the looks on his partner’s faces, they were about to have another. 

“Areti,” Ambrus said, running his thumbs against Areti’s cheeks. “It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been with you. Our feelings aren’t going to change because there’s some distance between us. We still have a month to explore more of this and… and when you get better, bring messages to us again. They’d have to send you our way eventually.

“Gods, Areti, we love you. We’re not going to forget that while we’re going. We’re going to fight harder so that we can come back to you sooner, don’t you understand?”

“You…” Words were hard, his tongue thick in his mouth, blocking all other sounds. “You love me?”

The tentative smiles on Ambrus and Petros’s faces dropped and the warm hands trembled against his cheeks. “I wasn’t supposed to say that,” Ambrus muttered, panic in his eyes. His hands fell and Areti didn’t have the time or energy to pull them back. 

“You didn’t mean it?” he asked, voice smaller than it had ever been in his life. That hurt more than them leaving him to fight, hurt more than them making him think he wasn’t worth anything past his body, hurt more than anything. 

It was Petros that shoved themselves forward, a desperate look in their eyes. “We do, of course we do!” they said, barely looking at Ambrus for confirmation. “It’s just… early, for something like that.”

Areti hummed, ignoring the raging emotions in his stomach and chest, and tapped a finger against his temple. “If you really think about it, we’ve actually been together for months,” he said. Sometimes, it was easier to make light of their earlier situation. There was probably a pattern to when he did so, but he didn’t care to find it. 

Neither of them laughed at it like they usually would, an awkward chuckle at being faced with their own mistakes. Instead, Ambrus reached for him again, jaw clenched with embarrassment. “Just because I didn’t mean to say it now doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it in general,” he said and frowned immediately. “I hope that made sense.”

“It did.”

“I do love you-”

“I as well,” Petros added in a rush before Ambrus could launch into whatever long speech he had a habit of making. 

The man in question cleared his throat and gave them both a pointed look. “I do love you,” he said again and Areti’s heart pounded in his chest, a smile threatening to pull at his lips. “We both do. That’s not going to change because we’re apart. I swear it. Even if we don’t see you again until the end of the war, it still won’t change.”

Areti kissed him before he could change his mind, something sweet and tender to stop whatever panicked ramble was about to spill from one of them. “Just… stay alive, at least until I get there,” he said, not taking not being able to do his duty as an answer. “I love you both too, just so you’re aware.”

They came together fairly quickly after that, doing nothing more than sharing little kisses and touches, all of them too tired to do much else. There was probably more to say, so many more words that the pair of them could whisper in Areti’s ear in order to make him trust them, but there was time for that later. 

It would be difficult, being away from them now that everything was going well for them. But it was something he was sure he would be able to manage, especially if he used the time to focus on his recovery. He was getting better. Perhaps, by the time they left him, he’d be able to follow them not long after. 

For once, he found himself no longer dreading what was to come. 

He shuffled closer to the two warm bodies on either side of him, a small smile on his face. However strange and painful his journey might have been, he couldn’t help but be happy with where he had ended up. All he could do now was hope that the end of the war would come soon and his happiness would extend beyond it. He didn’t see why it wouldn’t.