{"sf1_id":null,"sf2_id":"ek5KYLQn","title":"Ash and Song Chapter Six","author":"Mithrilix","words":3610,"posted_at":"2026-05-21T19:35:58.000Z","tags":["Anthro","Clean","Dragon","Dragonborn","Fantasy","Gay","Human","Love","Romance","SFW","Story Progression"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/ek5KYLQn-ash-and-song-chapter-six","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/ek5KYLQn","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"In the quiet village of Grovehollow, a dragonborn warrior named Toryn is trying to learn what it means to stay.  \n  \n Scarred from a life of battle and burdened by the belief that he is meant only for steel and solitude, Toryn never expects kindness—least of all from a soft-spoken human healer with golden hair and hands gentle enough to steady the fiercest flame. Cassius Ordo is shy, earnest, and quietly brave, tending wounds both seen and unseen. When he fusses over Toryn’s injuries with tender insistence, something long locked in the dragonborn’s chest begins to loosen.  \n  \n --  \n  \n My first story on here!  \n  \n I'm mostly aiming for something sweet and fluffy. Perhaps expect spicier stuff in later chapters.","content":"The forge ran late into the evening.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBy the time Toryn finally left, dusk had settled fully across\u0026nbsp;Grovehollow, cool blue shadows stretching between buildings while lanterns flickered warmly to life along the\u0026nbsp;village\u0026nbsp;paths.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe should have been tired.\u0026nbsp;\n\nInstead, he found himself carrying a bundle of tools over one shoulder and walking toward Cass’s cottage with a restless sort of anticipation tightening his chest.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe bundle had started small.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA hammer.\u0026nbsp;\n\nReplacement\u0026nbsp;nails.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSome spare wood from the forge.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen\u0026nbsp;somehow\u0026nbsp;he had also\u0026nbsp;acquired:\u0026nbsp;\n\n- a sturdier latch for the garden gate,\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n- fresh hinges,\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n- a properly balanced\u0026nbsp;splitting axe because Cass’s current one was terrible,\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\n- and a carved wooden shelf bracket Hallik had snorted at him for\u0026nbsp;sanding smooth.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn stared briefly at the growing pile before leaving the forge.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen\u0026nbsp;decided not to examine his behavior too closely.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe cottage windows glowed warmly through the trees by the time he arrived.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass opened the door before Toryn could knock.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAs if he had been listening\u0026nbsp;for\u0026nbsp;him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe thought alone nearly undid the Dragonborn.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Oh,” Cass breathed, brightening\u0026nbsp;immediately\u0026nbsp;at the sight of him. “You came.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn suddenly became painfully aware of the tools over his shoulder.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Yes.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass looked him over quickly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFreshly washed scales.\u0026nbsp;\n\nClean shirt.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA strange warmth crept into Cass’s face.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You cleaned up.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn blinked once.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“…I was dirty.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass smiled faintly, stepping aside to let him enter.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Well. You look\u0026nbsp;very nice.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn nearly dropped the entire bundle of tools.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass seemed entirely unaware of the effect as he closed the door behind him.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You brought all that tonight?”\u0026nbsp;he\u0026nbsp;asked instead, eyes widening slightly at the supplies.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn recovered slowly.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Yes.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Toryn, that’s far more than I expected.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You needed them.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass stared at him softly for a moment.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThat ache returned\u0026nbsp;immediately\u0026nbsp;to Toryn’s chest.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGods.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNo one should look at him like that.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You noticed all this from a few visits?” Cass asked quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn set the tools carefully beside the wall.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I notice things.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Yes,” Cass murmured. “You do.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe cottage smelled like fresh bread again.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd herbs.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd Cass.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn removed his outer gloves slowly, trying not to think too hard about how domestic this felt already.\u0026nbsp;\n\nDangerously domestic.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass hovered nearby while Toryn examined the loose window latch first.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I can hold the lantern,” Cass offered quickly when Toryn crouched beside the frame.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn glanced back at him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass stood\u0026nbsp;very close.\u0026nbsp;\n\nClose enough that Toryn caught the familiar lavender scent\u0026nbsp;immediately.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Yes,” Toryn said,\u0026nbsp;perhaps too\u0026nbsp;softly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass held the lantern while Toryn worked.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe healer tried to be helpful.\u0026nbsp;\n\nUnfortunately, he was also distractingly beautiful.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn became acutely aware of every movement beside him—the brush of loose golden hair against his shoulder, the warmth of Cass leaning closer to watch what he was doing.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You’re very good with your hands,” Cass said absentmindedly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn nearly missed the nail entirely.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass blinked.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen blinked again as realization slowly dawned across his face.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Oh,” he said faintly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn kept his eyes fixed very carefully on the latch.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“…Thank you.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass cleared his throat quickly.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You’re welcome.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nSilence fell.\u0026nbsp;\n\nWarm and charged.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn could feel Cass looking at him now.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe awareness crawled pleasantly beneath his scales.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass shifted slightly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis hair, which he had tied loosely back while cooking earlier, slipped over one shoulder.\u0026nbsp;\n\nWithout thinking, Toryn reached out.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis claws caught gently on the ribbon.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass froze instantly.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Toryn?”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You tied it up again,” Toryn murmured.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s cheeks flushed.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I was cooking.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Hm.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nBefore Cass could respond, Toryn tugged lightly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe ribbon came loose.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGolden hair spilled free down Cass’s back once more.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass inhaled sharply.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Toryn,” he said again, softer this time.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn’s fingers brushed slowly through the newly loosened strands.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis chest tightened painfully\u0026nbsp;at\u0026nbsp;the texture.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAt the trust.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“At this point,” Cass said with flustered amusement, “I think you simply dislike braids.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn looked up at him from where he crouched near the window.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I dislike anything that hides you.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass went completely still.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe words hung between them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHeavy.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAccidental honesty.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn realized too late how truthful they sounded.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s lips parted slightly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBlue eyes wide.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor one dangerous heartbeat, neither moved.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen the kettle over the hearth began whistling sharply.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass startled hard enough to nearly drop the lantern.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Oh!” He stepped back quickly, face pink. “Tea—”\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe hurried toward the hearth.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn sat back slowly against the wall.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGods above.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis pulse hammered beneath his scales.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAcross the room, Cass busied\u0026nbsp;himself\u0026nbsp;pouring tea with slightly unsteady hands.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn watched him quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd understood with sudden terrifying clarity that this no longer\u0026nbsp;felt like wandering\u0026nbsp;into a healer’s cottage.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt felt\u0026nbsp;like\u0026nbsp;coming home.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe realization frightened him more than any battlefield ever had.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass returned a moment later with two cups.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You fixed it already?”\u0026nbsp;he\u0026nbsp;asked, clearly trying to recover from whatever had just passed between them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn accepted the tea carefully.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“The latch was simple.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass smiled softly.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I think you just enjoy taking care of things.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn looked at him over the rim of the cup.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You say that like it is unusual.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass lowered his own tea slowly.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“It is,” he admitted quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe room fell still again.\u0026nbsp;\n\nOutside, the wind moved softly through the trees surrounding the cottage.\u0026nbsp;\n\nInside, Toryn sat surrounded by tools and warm lantern light and the scent of tea while Cassius Dyre smiled at him from across the room.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd for the first time in many years—\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe Dragonborn did not feel lonely.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe final repair took longer than Toryn intended.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot because the work was difficult—replacing the warped section of fencing beside Cass’s herb garden was simple enough—but because every time he thought to leave, Cass found another small thing to ask about.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA loose hinge.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA sticking shutter.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA shelf that tilted slightly to the left.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNone of it truly needed\u0026nbsp;doing\u0026nbsp;tonight. Toryn knew that. He suspected Cass knew\u0026nbsp;it\u0026nbsp;too.\u0026nbsp;\n\nStill, he fixed every last thing without complaint.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe evening had cooled by the time he finally drove the final nail into place. Crickets sang softly in the grass, and the sky above\u0026nbsp;Grovehollow\u0026nbsp;had deepened into rich indigo streaked with the last traces of gold.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass stood nearby with his sleeves\u0026nbsp;rolled\u0026nbsp;to his elbows and a lantern hanging from one hand.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You’ve done enough,” Cass said gently. “If you keep working at this rate, there’ll be nothing left in my cottage for you to repair.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn huffed a quiet laugh through his nose. “I could probably find something.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I do not doubt that.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass smiled then—small and sleepy and fond—and something warm unfurled painfully inside Toryn’s chest.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe Dragonborn wiped his hands on a rag and stepped back to inspect the fence one last time. Solid. Straight.\u0026nbsp;Good work.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor once in his life, he found himself strangely proud of building something instead of breaking it.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You should rest,” Cass said softly. “You’ve been working since sunrise at the forge.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I’m fine.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Toryn.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe way Cass said his name—quiet, warm, concerned—always made resistance feel impossible.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn finally relented with a low grunt and sat heavily on the edge of the cottage steps. The wood creaked beneath his weight.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass looked absurdly pleased by this victory.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“There,” he said. “Better.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn crossed his arms loosely over his chest and watched Cass move through the garden, lantern light gilding his pale hair gold. The healer crouched carefully beside his herbs, checking leaves and soil with delicate fingers.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen suddenly Cass froze.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Oh.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe sound was soft with wonder.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn lifted his gaze.\u0026nbsp;\n\nTiny lights blinked across the darkening field beyond the garden.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFireflies.\u0026nbsp;\n\nDozens of them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s entire face lit with childlike delight.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Oh, look at them,” he whispered.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe stepped away from the garden slowly, as though afraid he might scare them off. Another flicker of gold drifted near his\u0026nbsp;shoulder\u0026nbsp;and Cass actually laughed under his breath—quiet and breathless and utterly enchanted.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn stared at him instead of the fireflies.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe healer turned in a slow circle beneath the drifting lights, blue eyes wide with awe. One landed briefly against his sleeve before\u0026nbsp;blinking away\u0026nbsp;again into the night.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“They always\u0026nbsp;come\u0026nbsp;this time of year,” Cass said softly. “But somehow I always forget how beautiful they are.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn’s chest ached.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGods.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass looked like something out of a storybook.\u0026nbsp;\n\nWarm lantern light.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGolden hair.\u0026nbsp;\n\nTiny stars\u0026nbsp;dancing\u0026nbsp;around him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd that look of open wonder Toryn was beginning to realize he would do\u0026nbsp;almost anything\u0026nbsp;to protect.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass noticed him staring and smiled shyly.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You’re\u0026nbsp;looking\u0026nbsp; as\u0026nbsp;though you’ve never seen fireflies before.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I\u0026nbsp;wasn't\u0026nbsp;looking at the fireflies,” Toryn said quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass blinked.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen understanding slowly colored his expression pink.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Oh.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nBefore Toryn could recover from accidentally saying something so painfully honest—\u0026nbsp;\n\nA sharp rustle cracked through the woods beyond the cottage.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn reacted instantly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nYears of training slammed into him before\u0026nbsp;thought\u0026nbsp;could catch up.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe surged to his feet in one fluid movement, dagger already in hand.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis body turned toward the sound automatically, shoulders squared, muscles taut, eyes\u0026nbsp;searching\u0026nbsp;the dark tree line.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSilence followed.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen another rustle.\u0026nbsp;\n\nProbably a\u0026nbsp;deer.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA fox.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNothing.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut the damage had already been done.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn heard Cass inhale sharply behind him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot fear of the woods.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFear of him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe realization hit like a blade sliding between his ribs.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn turned slightly—\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd saw Cass recoil.\u0026nbsp;\n\nOnly a step.\u0026nbsp;\n\nOnly instinct.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut it happened.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s shoulders had drawn tight. His breath caught shallow in his chest. One hand pressed unconsciously against his own wrist as though grounding himself.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThere was fear in his eyes.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSmall. Fleeting.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut there.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn felt sick.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe dagger suddenly felt\u0026nbsp;monstrous\u0026nbsp;in his hand.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGods damn him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nWhat was wrong with him?\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe lowered the weapon\u0026nbsp;immediately\u0026nbsp;and stepped back as\u0026nbsp;though\u0026nbsp;burned.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Cass—”\u0026nbsp;\n\nShame crashed over him hot and brutal.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis voice came rough. “I’m sorry.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass blinked quickly,\u0026nbsp;immediately\u0026nbsp;shaking his head.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“No, no—you did nothing wrong.” His words came fast now, almost anxious. “The sound startled you,\u0026nbsp;that’s\u0026nbsp;all. I know that.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn sheathed the dagger with rigid control.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut he had seen the flinch.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSeen the\u0026nbsp;tremble\u0026nbsp;Cass was trying so hard to hide now.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd because Toryn had spent most of his life studying danger, he noticed every tiny thing.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe slight tension in Cass’s jaw.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe careful distance between them now.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe way his fingers curled faintly into his sleeves.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn’s stomach twisted violently.\u0026nbsp;\n\nOf course.\u0026nbsp;\n\nOf course\u0026nbsp;Cass would fear him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA towering former soldier with scales, claws, weapons, and blood buried deep beneath his skin.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor one stupid heartbeat, Toryn had become exactly what Cass feared most.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I shouldn’t have drawn it,” Toryn said quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass stepped forward\u0026nbsp;immediately. “Toryn—”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I saw you flinch.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass opened his mouth, but no words came at first.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThat silence hurt\u0026nbsp;worst\u0026nbsp;of all.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe fireflies drifted silently between them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn suddenly could not bear to stand there beneath Cass’s gentle gaze while knowing he had frightened him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe looked away sharply, jaw tight.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I forgot where I was,” he muttered bitterly. “Forgot I wasn’t in a damned war camp anymore.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“That isn’t fair to yourself.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“It is.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis voice came harsher than intended, and Cass startled slightly again before Toryn\u0026nbsp;immediately\u0026nbsp;closed his eyes in self-disgust.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Gods,” he rasped. “There. Again.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Toryn—”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I would never hurt you.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe words escaped low and\u0026nbsp;fierce.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAbsolute.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn finally looked at him then, emerald eyes bright with something dangerously close to grief.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I need you to know that.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s expression softened instantly.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I do know that.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut Toryn could still see the trembling in him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd somehow that made it worse.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBecause Cass was trying.\u0026nbsp;\n\nTrying so hard to trust him despite every\u0026nbsp;instinct\u0026nbsp;screaming caution.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd Toryn had rewarded that trust by reaching for a weapon.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe silence between them stretched painfully\u0026nbsp;thin.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFireflies drifted through the garden in soft golden pulses, uncaring of the ache that had settled beneath Toryn’s ribs.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass still stood only a few feet away.\u0026nbsp;\n\nStill\u0026nbsp;trying to look calm.\u0026nbsp;\n\nStill trying to make this easier for him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nWhich somehow made Toryn feel even worse.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe dragged a hand over his face with a low curse beneath his breath and stepped backward toward the path.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I should go.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s head lifted\u0026nbsp;immediately. “Toryn—”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“It’s late.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“That is not why you’re leaving.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn forced his gaze toward the woods instead of the healer. “You should rest.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“And you should stop deciding what I feel before I’ve said it.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe words were gentle.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot sharp.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot angry.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThat somehow made them land harder.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn went still.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass took another careful step closer, lantern light swaying softly in his hand.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You frightened me for a moment,” Cass admitted quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn’s jaw tightened.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“But,” Cass continued quickly, “not because I thought you would hurt me.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn finally looked at him again.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s fingers curled around the\u0026nbsp;lantern\u0026nbsp;handle. There was still the faintest tremble in them, but he\u0026nbsp;stood\u0026nbsp;his ground anyway.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“It was sudden,” he said softly. “Loud noises and drawn weapons simply…” He exhaled carefully. “They still unsettle me sometimes.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nA shadow crossed his face then—old memory, old fear.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGone\u0026nbsp;almost as\u0026nbsp;quickly as it came.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“But I know the difference between danger and instinct.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn swallowed hard.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass stepped closer again until only a small space remained between them.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“The important thing,” Cass said quietly, “is that the moment you realized I was afraid, you stopped.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe words hit with brutal force.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBecause Toryn had spent years among men who would not have stopped.\u0026nbsp;\n\nMen who laughed at fear.\u0026nbsp;\n\nMen who used it.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis throat felt painfully tight.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I still reached for the blade.”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Yes,” Cass said gently. “You did.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nNo excuses.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNo lies.\u0026nbsp;\n\nJust truth.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd\u0026nbsp;somehow that\u0026nbsp;honesty hurt less than reassurance would have.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn looked down at his hands.\u0026nbsp;\n\nScarred.\u0026nbsp;\n\nClawed.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBuilt for violence long before they ever learned gentleness.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I don’t know how to stop,” he admitted roughly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe confession\u0026nbsp;surprised even\u0026nbsp;him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe fireflies\u0026nbsp;blinked lazily\u0026nbsp;around them.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“When I hear something wrong, my body just…” He flexed one hand helplessly. “Moves before I think. Like\u0026nbsp;I’m\u0026nbsp;still waiting for someone to die if\u0026nbsp;I’m\u0026nbsp;too slow.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass watched him quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn laughed once under his breath, bitter and exhausted.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Pathetic, isn’t it?”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“No.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe answer came instantly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFirm enough that Toryn looked up.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s blue eyes were soft with something aching and earnest.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“It sounds tiring.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThat nearly undid him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot fear.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot judgment.\u0026nbsp;\n\nUnderstanding.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn looked away sharply before the healer could see too much in his face.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I hate it,” he muttered.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass was quiet for a moment.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen, softly:\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I think… perhaps you hate yourself for surviving the only way you knew how.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn went completely still.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe night sounds seemed to fade around them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGods.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNo one had ever said something like that to him before.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot commanders.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot fellow soldiers.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot mercenaries.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSurvival\u0026nbsp;had\u0026nbsp;always been praised.\u0026nbsp;Rewarded. Demanded.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNever mourned.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass\u0026nbsp;seemed to realize\u0026nbsp;the weight of his own words and suddenly looked uncertain.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t presume—”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“No.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn’s voice came low.\u0026nbsp;\n\nRaw.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You’re right.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe admission scraped painfully out of him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s expression softened further, heartbreakingly gentle.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor a long moment neither of them spoke.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen Cass carefully set the lantern down on the cottage steps.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd reached out.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSlowly enough that Toryn could have moved away if he wished.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis fingers brushed lightly against Toryn’s wrist.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNear where the dagger had been moments before.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe contact was\u0026nbsp;feather-soft.\u0026nbsp;\n\nTrust offered carefully.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn stared at their hands like he did not understand them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s voice was barely above a whisper.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You are allowed to learn peace slowly, Toryn.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nSomething in the\u0026nbsp;Dragonborn’s\u0026nbsp;chest cracked wide open.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe bowed his head sharply, eyes closing for one dangerous moment.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBecause no one had ever allowed him softness before.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot once.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s thumb moved gently once against his wrist before he\u0026nbsp;seemed to realize\u0026nbsp;what he was doing. A flush\u0026nbsp;immediately\u0026nbsp;spread across his pale cheeks, but he did not pull away entirely.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Stay,” he said quietly after a moment. “You do not have to leave.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn looked at him carefully.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You’re certain?”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass hesitated only briefly before nodding.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Yes.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe sincerity in that single word settled somewhere deep inside Toryn.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCarefully, as though afraid sudden movement might ruin the fragile thing between them, he sat back down on the cottage steps.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass\u0026nbsp;visibly\u0026nbsp;relaxed.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA moment later, the healer lowered himself beside him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNot touching.\u0026nbsp;\n\nJust close.\u0026nbsp;\n\nClose enough that Toryn could feel warmth at his side.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe fireflies continued their slow dance across the garden.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAfter a little while, Cass disappeared briefly inside the cottage and returned with his lute.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You do not have to play for me,” Toryn murmured.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I know.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass settled beside him again, tucking one leg beneath himself.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen soft music drifted into\u0026nbsp;the\u0026nbsp;warm summer night.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGentle.\u0026nbsp;\n\nTender.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNothing like tavern songs or marching rhythms.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThis music felt like quiet rivers and candlelight and healing hands.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn listened in complete silence.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGradually, the tension eased from his shoulders.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe hard alertness faded from his posture little by little beneath the steady lull of Cass’s playing and the hum of crickets.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAt some point, Cass’s music slowed.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen\u0026nbsp;stopped altogether.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn glanced over.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe healer had fallen asleep against his shoulder.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHis head rested carefully against the\u0026nbsp;Dragonborn’s\u0026nbsp;upper arm, golden hair spilling softly across dark scales.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn froze.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass made a small sleepy sound but did not\u0026nbsp;wake.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor a long moment, Toryn simply sat there, afraid to breathe too hard.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen, impossibly gently, he shifted just enough to support Cass more comfortably against him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe fireflies glowed around them like fallen stars.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd for the first time in longer than he could remember—\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn felt something dangerously close to home.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass stirred first.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt was subtle at the start—just a shift of weight against Toryn’s\u0026nbsp;arm,\u0026nbsp;a small breath catching as awareness returned.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen Cass jolted upright like\u0026nbsp;he’d\u0026nbsp;been struck.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Oh—”\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe blinked rapidly, golden hair slightly\u0026nbsp;dishevelled, cheeks already turning a bright, mortified pink.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I— I fell asleep again.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn, who had been sitting perfectly still as if any movement might break the moment entirely, turned his head slightly toward him.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You did.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass groaned softly and pressed a hand to his face. “I’m\u0026nbsp;sorry. I\u0026nbsp;didn’t\u0026nbsp;mean to— I just meant to play for you a little longer and then—”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You fell asleep,” Toryn finished, voice even.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass peeked through his fingers. “Yes.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nA pause.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen, quieter, Toryn added, “I don’t mind.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass lowered his hand slowly, studying him like he expected a hidden judgment that never came.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You… don’t?”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn shook his head once. “You were warm. And quiet.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThat earned him a small, embarrassed smile—relieved\u0026nbsp;more than anything.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass exhaled and glanced toward the darkening sky beyond the garden. The fireflies were still drifting lazily through the herbs, though fewer now, as if even they were growing tired.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Oh,” Cass said softly. “It’s later than I thought.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn followed his gaze.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe night\u0026nbsp;had\u0026nbsp;deepened properly now. The kind of dark that belonged to owls and distant road lanterns and the slow settling hush of a village asleep.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I should go,” Toryn said after a moment.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s expression flickered—something subtle passing through it, too quick to name.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Right,” he said. “The inn.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn stood first, rolling his shoulders once as if to settle himself back into something familiar. Something less fragile than this.\u0026nbsp;\n\nLess dangerous in its softness.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass rose more slowly beside him, still watching.\u0026nbsp;\n\nNeither of them spoke as Toryn gathered himself to leave.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe moment stretched thin again, like it\u0026nbsp;didn’t\u0026nbsp;want to be broken.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn gave a small nod. “I’ll come by tomorrow after the forge.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass\u0026nbsp;nodded\u0026nbsp;too. “You don’t have to—”\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I want to.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nThat stopped Cass mid-sentence.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor a second, he just looked at him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen, quietly, “Okay.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn turned toward the path leading away from the cottage, already bracing himself for the familiar loneliness of the walk back.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe made\u0026nbsp;it\u0026nbsp;only a few steps.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“Wait.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s voice was soft—but it held something firmer beneath it.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn turned.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass had moved closer without him noticing.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToo close for hesitation now.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBefore Toryn could fully process the shift in him, Cass stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt\u0026nbsp;wasn’t\u0026nbsp;tentative.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt\u0026nbsp;wasn’t\u0026nbsp;uncertain.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt was a real hug—warm and sudden and careful in the way Cass always was, as if he was still learning how much strength he was allowed to use.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn went completely still.\u0026nbsp;\n\nEvery thought stopped.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass fit against him in a way that felt impossibly fragile and real all at once, his hands pressing lightly between Toryn’s shoulder blades.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I’m glad you stayed,” Cass murmured.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn\u0026nbsp;didn’t\u0026nbsp;move.\u0026nbsp;\n\nDidn’t\u0026nbsp;breathe properly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen Cass added, quieter, right against him, “And… please don’t be so hard on yourself.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nSomething inside Toryn cracked open cleanly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe swallowed once.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHard.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I—” His voice came out rougher than he meant. He cleared his throat, but it\u0026nbsp;didn’t\u0026nbsp;help much. “Cass…”\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass\u0026nbsp;didn’t\u0026nbsp;let go\u0026nbsp;immediately.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIf anything, he held\u0026nbsp;on\u0026nbsp;a fraction longer, as though sensing the exact moment Toryn might try to retreat into himself again.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“You didn’t do anything wrong earlier,” Cass said softly. “Not really. You reacted. And then you stopped.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn’s hands hovered uselessly at his sides for a moment before one finally lifted—slow, uncertain—and came to rest carefully at Cass’s back.\u0026nbsp;\n\nLike he was\u0026nbsp;afraid\u0026nbsp;he might break him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nOr worse—be allowed to keep him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass finally eased back, just enough to look up at him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThere was no fear in his eyes now.\u0026nbsp;\n\nOnly something steady.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSomething\u0026nbsp;choosing.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn’s chest felt painfully tight.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I don’t deserve—” he started.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass shook his head\u0026nbsp;immediately. “Don’t.”\u0026nbsp;\n\nOne word.\u0026nbsp;\n\nGentle, but absolute.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn stopped.\u0026nbsp;\n\nCass’s hands slid away slowly from his shoulders, lingering only for a moment before letting go completely.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut the warmth of it stayed.\u0026nbsp;\n\n“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cass said quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nToryn nodded\u0026nbsp;once, because\u0026nbsp;speaking felt impossible.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen he turned before he could do something foolish—like stay too\u0026nbsp;long, or\u0026nbsp;say something that would shatter the fragile balance between them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe walked down the path toward\u0026nbsp;Grovehollow\u0026nbsp;in silence.\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut long after the cottage lights disappeared behind him, he could still feel the shape of Cass’s arms around him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd it undid him more than any blade ever had.","series":{"name":"Ash and Song","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/nJEwG23m-ash-and-song-chapter-five.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1YA2jO01-ash-and-song-chapter-seven.json"}}