A quick note before we begin

This piece features some stated nudity (I say they're naked and don't really describe what that entails below the belt) and some non-sexual physical intimacy (ex. normal bathhouse activities), but nothing that's overtly suggestive or saucy. It's not really meant to be titillating given the focus of this piece and I think that you could even argue that that aspect is more... pg/E10+/whatever, but if it’s something you don't want to see (or shouldn't be seeing, because you're. like. five?), you'd best turn back now.

Tread carefully, dear reader!

 

---

 

Despite not being a mage, Caineghis was one of the most frequent users of the Order of Heroes’ library. While most of the heroes who didn’t wield magic expected it to be filled to the brim with tomes, the collection of encyclopedias gathered from across the realms was surprisingly thorough in the subjects that they covered, and having recognized a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the leader of a country -both in the need to devote his time to leading being lessened and the chance to read things he’d otherwise never have access to- Caineghis chose to spend his nights holed up in the library well after everybody else had gone to bed.

“You’re going to strain your eyes trying to read with so few candles.”

A smile crept across Caineghis’ face long before he pried himself away from the book he had buried himself in to see who had approached him in the dead of night, having no difficulty identifying the owner of voice that called out to him from the entrance to the empty library.

It was Greil, who likewise had few problems locating the lion king now that Caineghis had found a hobby to take up in his free time.

“What kind of person would I be if I accidentally exposed any youngsters to this material? The low lighting is for their safety.”

“Oh, what’s this? You’re reading something indecent? Let’s see…” Greil leaned forward to look closer at the book Caineghis had spread out on the table in front of him and frowned, “This is a history textbook.”

“Yes, it’s a chronicle of the past relationship between Nifl and Múspell, but to call its style of writing archaic is an understatement! If it weren’t for the book going all the way up to the present day, I’d’ve thought it predated time itself! Who knows what forbidden knowledge lies hidden within its pages, and more importantly, what it’d do to any impressionable minds!”

“I see Giffca still hasn’t yet taught you how to restrain yourself.”

“On the contrary; he’s trained me quite well.”

“He certainly didn’t get you to stop saying it like that.”

Caineghis laughed as he shut the book he had been reading.

“Anyways,” he said with a warm, slightly mischievous smile, leaning forward towards Greil, their faces now less than half a meter apart, “what brings you here?”

“Do I need a reason to want to see you?”

“No, not at all. It’s just been a while since you’ve gone out of your way to see little old me.”

“I do have one, though, if you’d like to hear it.”

Caineghis leaned back slightly, his interest now piqued.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“The summoner told me that you had cautioned them to not touch your hair since it was -and I quote- ‘as sharp as you were dressed’, so they gave me this.”

Greil placed a fist-sized jar which contained a cream-colored substance on the table.

“What is it?”

“Apparently, it’s a special type of soap that repairs hair, making it lighter and softer.”

“Ah…"

Without realizing it Caineghis reached back to touch his glorious mane, confirming what he already knew: it had grown rough as he had neglected it in the past few months.

"That might be useful, I suppose. I don’t have much reason to allow my hair to be as coarse as it has become, and it would be nice for it to be softer, but why did they give it to you?”

“I asked, but they just gave me a sly smile and said that you’d probably need some help.”

Caineghis’ eyes narrowed.

“Do you think…?”

“You remember what happened when you were summoned, right? Kiran sent that monk from Hoshido to get me the moment you appeared. I don’t think there’s much doubt in our summoner’s mind that we’re close, but I can’t tell if they believe we’re close or if they want to play matchmaker for a bit.”

“…I’ve gotten the impression that they are inclined towards a certain degree of mischief, so it may very well be the latter.”

The two men shared a moment of silence.

“Speaking of which, Kiran did also say that Azama would be able to show us to the bathhouses they had found a few months ago if you were looking to try this out tonight.”

“Sounds like a plan. We haven’t spent much time together since coming here, have we? If you’ll help me, it’ll give us a lot of time to chat.”

Caineghis stood up, the smile on his face returning with a hint of mischievousness this time.

“And I don’t see much harm in humoring Kiran for a bit, either.”

---

They found Azama waiting in the cool summer air by the western gate, which sat close to the forest that encircled the castle. He raised an eyebrow at their approach.

“I was wondering who Kiran wanted me to escort,” he said with a resigned sigh, “I take it this your first time leaving the castle grounds on your own?”

“For both of us, yes,” Caineghis turned to Greil, who nodded in affirmation.

“Couldn’t he have given us a map?” Greil asked, “I feel bad for making you do this for us in the middle of the night.”

“I’m used to staying up late and was planning on heading over there anyway, but no, you-,” Azama paused, as if realizing something, “Has Kiran explained anything about Askr to you two?”

“Kiran hasn’t spoken to me much outside of deployment orders.”

“Same with me.”

Azama groaned in frustration.

“Kiran’s supposed to do a monthly orientation for any new Heroes that had been summoned, but I guess they’ve been slacking off for the past… have you really been here for almost half a year, Greil?”

“Has it really been that long?”

Azama waited a beat before responding.

“I might have miscounted. Regardless, this path directly ahead of us will bring a hero anywhere they -or someone they’ve traveled with- have been before, but only if it’s a place that Feh has already authorized… so if you were wondering, ‘home’ is probably out of the question. I think the intent is to make it harder for heroes to simply disappear, but… you guys at least know about your contracts, right?”

“Even if we could get back home, we can’t exactly go AWOL while those are still in place, right?”

“Yeah. Let’s walk and talk,” Azama turned and lead the two men down the trail through the forest, “There was an incident a little before you were summoned, Caineghis, where two Heroes had run off through the forest to the west.”

“I remember when that happened!” Greil exclaimed, “Sharena and Alfonse seemed really worried about it though, so maybe there’s nothing stopping us from leaving so long as our intent isn’t to desert for good?”

“I’ve been here for two years now and it’s something I’ve thought about quite a bit. I’ve asked Kiran,” Azama sighed, “but they always say something like ‘I can’t say for sure, why don’t you ask Feh’, but she prefers to keep us in the dark.”

A moment passed as the men continued to walk down the trail, the mixture of alders and oaks that lined the passage through the woods turning to dense northern Hoshidan Hemlock with rhododendrons forming a thick carpet in any areas where the harsh, midsummer sun would have reached during the day.

“I think she likes to remain afloof,” Caineghis said with a smug smile.

Greil chuckled at Caineghis’ pun, but Azama sighed again, a bit louder this time.

“Have either of you been to a bathhouse before?”

Both men shook their heads. There had been a few public baths in Zarzi, but neither men had ever had the opportunity to use them.

“I don’t think there’s much to explain. It’s just… public baths, really. This one has a hot spring attached, though, so if that’s something you’d be interested in it will be open.”

The path turned to the left and suddenly opened up to reveal a building that appeared to be of Hoshidan construction, with a tall fence running off to their right, deeper into the forest that surrounded the building.

Azama let out a sigh -one of contentment this time- as he lead the two men around towards the entrance of the building, where they could see that instead of being an isolated building deep in the woods where they were to disrobe -in front of a relative stranger, no less- the establishment was simply on the edge of a moderately sized town. It was after sundown so there was nobody else out and about and consequently nobody to verify the legitimacy of the business, but the bathhouse was by all appearances an unassuming and completely normal part of this village.

“It’s been a while since I’ve treated myself, so I think I’ll be heading there after I’m done. It’s late, so it’ll probably just be us, and quiet hot springs sure are something else…”

Azama slid the entrance open and -clearly delighted at the idea of finally letting himself relax- said, in an uncharacteristically upbeat, almost singsong voice, “How’s business, Nanase?”

A young lady -a Hoshidan named Nanase, apparently- was sitting at a raised desk which seemed to serve as a concierge counter for the bathhouse as she absently flipped through a book with a bored expression on her face. She didn’t look up as the three men approached, either disinterested in the prospect of having to deal with customers or the prospect of having to deal with Azama in particular.

“You already know the answer to that. Ask again and you’ll be banned for life.”

“Hey! As a peace offering, I brought you some customers this time!”

As Nanase looked up, Greil raised an eyebrow, concerned.

“Oh, I’m afraid I didn’t bring my wallet. Kiran had called them public baths so I-”

“Nah,” she waved her hand in the air, as if to physically dispel Greil’s concerns, “If you’re with the Order of Heroes we have a partnership with them. It’s good money and it’s nice that they’re, if I’m being honest, overpaying for unlimited monthly access even if all three hundred of you would show up as often as Azama did,” Nanase sighed, “but it’d be nicer if Azama wasn’t our only regular customer.”

Azama let out a wistful sigh.

“Kids these days have no appreciation for the finer things in life. When I was young-”

Nanase slammed her book shut and glared at Azama, her bored indifference replaced by a fire in her eyes and a scowl on her face.

“And tell me, Azama: which ‘kid’ breaks her back every day making sure you still have a bathhouse to come to?”

“You do! Of course!” Azama cowered away from Nanase as he shielded himself with his arms, taking a step away from her as his tone took several steps towards terrified, “There’s no need to demonstrate your judo skills, I understand the errors of my ways and will be appreciative of the effort you put in to taking care of this bathhouse forevermore!”

Apparently appeased by Azama making a show out of groveling, Nanase gave him one last look of contempt before she turned to Caineghis and Greil, gently smiling as she directly addressed them for the first time.

“That aside, has Azama explained the services we offer?”

Greil shrugged.

“He mentioned a hot spring, but nothing else.”

“That’s about it. While you’re bathing we could wash your clothes, but from what Azama’s told me, that’s already handled by somebody at your castle.”

Caineghis looked to Greil, who shrugged again.

“I don’t think that’ll be needed,” he said.

“Then you’re good to go. The men’s baths are over there,” Nanase gestured towards a curtained door to her left, “Azama can show you where the soap and whatnot is. We’ll be open all night, so take your time.”

“Thank you, Dame Nanase.”

“Azama, why can’t you be as polite as… come to think of it, you didn’t introduce me to your friends, did you?”

Azama looked away from her piercing gaze

“I figured I’d let them choose to introduce themselves if they wanted to. Is that a crime?”

“If you’re the one doing it? Sure.”

“I’m Caineghis, of Gallia.”

“I’m Greil. You may have met my son Ike.”

“Hm… blue hair, frowns a lot?”

Greil chuckled.

“That sounds like him.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Caineghis and Greil. If you end up needing anything extra, don’t be afraid to ask.”

---

The changing room for the men’s bath was large enough to easily accommodate the three men, and the number of benches and wicker baskets made of bamboo that were stored away in the cubbies that lined the wall betrayed that peak hours for the bath saw far more than their measly group of three.

Greil and Caineghis were barely through the door before Azama had already made his way to the basket of his choice and relocated it to the nearest bench.

“Nanase’d be mortified if she found out you were a king,” he said, beginning to shed his outfit.

Caineghis took one of the baskets out of its hole and set it on one of the other benches. Peeking inside, he saw that there was a towel, folded so it fit perfectly in the bottom of the basket, atop of which sat a bar of soap and small jar of some teal, viscous substance not unlike what was in the jar Greil had.

“Were you planning on telling her?”

With his back to the other two men, he unclasped his mantle and began to fold it, moving on to removing his belt and robe once that was done.

“It might make for a good story if her parents drop by soon, but I think she’ll eventually figure it out on her own.”

“Does she run this place by herself?” Greil asked as he sat down on a bench and began to remove his boots.

“Her parents own the place, but she usually has some friends help out if they’re not around.”

“She seems like a nice young lady.”

“She… can be, yes.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there,” Greil chuckled, “Care to share it?”

Azama laughed.

“It’s not so much of a story so much as her not being the most patient person and me continuing to do things that know I shouldn’t.”

There was a lengthy pause during which Caineghis could feel his perception of the kind of person the monk was physically shift in his mind, and from Greil’s silence, he seemed to be undergoing the same thing.

“I… see,” Caineghis eventually broke the dead air in the room, “What’s in this container?”

Caineghis held up the jar.

“Hm? Oh, the one in the basket? It’s shampoo, a type of soap designed for hair.”

“Would you know what this one is, then?”

Greil held up the jar Kiran had given him.

“That looks like conditioner. You’re supposed to let it sit in wet hair for a few minutes, and then once you wash it out it’ll be as smooth as silk.”

“You sure know a lot about soap,” Greil said.

“I grew up with a guy whose family ran an apothecary, so we received herbal products as gifts quite a bit, including fancy soaps.”

“That must have been nice,” Caineghis said.

“It was! My formative years were the most fragrant parts of my life!” he puffed out his chest, “That aside, who gave you that jar, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Kiran wanted me to pass it on to Caineghis.”

The rustle of fabric from the corner of the room where Azama stood slowed down a bit before coming to a complete stop, and Caineghis glanced over to see him standing still, his body visibly tense.

“This… might be a strange question, but did they overstep any boundaries?”

He was facing away from them, so his expression couldn’t be read, but Caineghis could feel the fatigue in his voice.

Caineghis turned to Greil, who shrugged.

“No.”

“Not really.”

Azama sighed.

“If they do, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“Has it been that much of a problem?”

“Not yet, apparently. I just… worry, you know? Someone their age shouldn’t be given the task that’s been pushed onto them, and I’m always afraid that today’s going to be the day where it becomes too much. Civilians weren’t meant for this kind of responsibility.”

Caineghis glanced over at Greil, who looked… distant.

“That’s… valid,” Greil asked, “How old are they?”

“They were nineteen when they were summoned, so I guess they’re still nineteen now.”

Greil blinked.

“What do you mean by that? ‘Still’ nineteen.”

“It might have been difficult for people our age to notice, especially in the short time the two of you have been here, but I mean that people who were summoned don’t age.”

Caineghis stopped halfway through putting his folded clothes into the basket.

“What?” the two of them said, almost in unison.

Azama was quiet for a moment.

“I don’t know how it works, but we just don’t age. You’ve met Nino, right? She’s been here for two and a half years, and she hasn’t changed a bit. With someone like Fae or Tiki or Nowi, they’re dragons so I don’t think a few years would mean much to them, but between Rebecca, Nino, Raigh, Sanaki, Sophia, Donnel and Roy, who have all more or less been here since day one, you’d think one of them would’ve hit puberty or at least a growth spurt or something. But they haven’t. Not a single inch of growth.”

Azama must have noticed that the two of them had been quiet, because he finally turned around to see them staring directly at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offload any existential horrors onto you or say something alarming,” he blurted out, clearly flustered at his own faux pas, “I’m sure you’ve noticed that time’s weird in Askr, right? I think it’s just something Breidablik does to compensate for that. I mean, speaking of Raigh, he was apparently the first person summoned, before they had even gotten Breidablik to work, and his twin, Lugh, looks exactly the same even though he came here two and a half years later. It might try to do that so when someone is sent home they can be sent back to the time when they were summoned as the same person they were when they left, or even just so there isn’t a gap in the timeframe between heroes from the same worlds.”

‘No gap in the timeframe between heroes’? That-

“You seem to have thought about this a lot,” Greil commented as he returned to undressing, having only just finished folding his cape.

“You need a clear head to meditate, so I have to answer anything that I’ve been holding onto before I can.”

“Ah.”

Caineghis finished putting his clothes and the basket they were now safely folded within away inside the cubby he had retrieved the basket from and unfurled the towel that had been in it moments before, spreading it so it lay across his lap as he sat on the bench. All he could do was wait for the other two men to finish disrobing; Greil still had his undershirt and undershorts and Azama still had…

He had no idea what Azama had left to remove.

He had never really taken the time to notice it before, but Azama’s outfit was complex, perhaps even needlessly so. Then again, even among the Beorc of the Order of Heroes, that was somewhat of a recurring theme with most of the Hoshidans, wasn’t it? They seemed to favor lightweight armor that covered a few vital parts -if they even wore armor at all- and at times it seemed like they valued the aesthetics of their outfit more than its ability to protect them from harm. Was it simply an aspect of the Hoshidan culture, and there were ways in which they valued form over function throughout other parts of their lives? Or was this simply an oddity amongst its military, as Nanase’s outfit seemed rather standard and not particularly showy?

Whatever it was, it meant that they’d probably be waiting for Azama to finish before moving on to the baths.

He turned to Greil just as he removed his undershirt.

He turned to Greil just as he removed the only thing hiding his back from the world.

He turned to Greil just as he gripped the front of his undershirt and pulled it over his head, the muscles in his back stretching as his arms extended towards the sky.

As the years had gone by, he had forgotten what Greil’s back had looked like, but he hadn’t forgotten how much he loved it. Even if he had only spent most of the past decade missing the idea of it, now that it was right before him, as beautiful as it was years ago, it was almost too much to bear.

He wanted to run to him, and hold him from behind.

He wanted to stand there with him, skin to skin, flesh to flesh.

He wanted to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight to his chest.

He wanted to feel the muscles in his back twitch and flex as he kissed and nibbled on his neck.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t do any of that.

He had learned how to control himself by the time they had first met, and that hadn’t changed in the time since.

He couldn’t do that now.

He couldn’t do that here.

He couldn’t do it so suddenly.

He couldn’t do that in a public space.

He couldn’t do that in front of somebody else.

He couldn’t do it with so many things left unsaid.

So he waited for the other two men to finish.

As he only had one thing left to remove, Greil was done a moment later. As he wrapped his towel around his waist and the moved to put his belongings into a basket of his own, he glanced up and upon realizing that he was being watched, flashed Caineghis a smile.

Caineghis blushed, but returned the smile with one of his own.

He had been staring, hadn’t he?

It had been a while since they had been around each other in this capacity, so it wouldn’t have been hard for Greil to guess why his eyes had wandered to and then rested upon the mercenary’s body, but…

If it had been so long, why wasn’t he just relieved to see Greil?

Why couldn’t he just be happy with things returning to how they were?

Why did it feel wrong to be here, with him again?