Narsus finally gave up pretending that he'd ever get to sleep that night. His mind still in turmoil, he crawled from the warmth of his bed and pulled on his trousers, irritably brushing back the long hair that fell around his face. Leaving only the time candle on his night stand lit, Narsus moved by its dimness across the room to his work table. Its surface was littered with brushes and paints, canvas, maps and books, and one bottle of strong red wine, the only thing he was interested in at that moment.

Reaching for a glass, Narsus sighed heavily, wishing he could quell the sick feeling in his stomach and the ache in his chest. His mind refused to cease churning over the many possibilities that faced him. He raised the wine glass to his lips and sipped gently, wondering what he should do. He was so torn by conflicting desires. One pulled him in the direction of his Prince. Accompanying Arislan would offer an opportunity to assist in the re-shaping of his country, as well as the chance to escape his self-imposed exile. He was comfortable here, but perhaps it was time to get on with his life. Pulling him in the exact opposite direction was his sense of self preservation, which was screaming at him to stay right where he was, to keep as far away from those that could hurt him as he could, to keep as far from Darun as he could.

Narsus was unsure of so many things. If he chose to join the Prince, could he and Darun work together effectively? Most likely they could, for both he and Darun were capable of being professional, were capable of keeping their personal conflict out of Arislan's business. Could they recover their friendship? Narsus was not sure that was possible. He didn't believe he could ever go back to being just Darun's friend. A single taste of those lips had left him burning for so much more, so much that he could never have. Could he survive the constant ache he'd feel if he was continually in Darun's company? Distance had dulled the pain of Darun's utter rejection until it was at least bearable, but being constantly close to Darun would most likely make the pain intolerable. Worse yet, could he watch Darun laugh and love with someone else? It was inevitable that Darun would find someone to love eventually. Could he stand watching someone else have what he was denied? Could he stand to have yet another slice carved out of his heart? No, not if he hoped to survive for very long.

Narsus sipped at his wine again, then made a face at the glass before setting it aside. The stuff tasted about as good as horse liniment would going down. He slumped back in his chair, pulling his feet up and curling onto his side. All in all, the 'wise' choice, and here, Narsus grimaced in self-directed disgust, would be to remain here in his sanctuary. But, he really did want to join Arislan and devote himself to such a worthy cause. He continued to waver, wrapped in darkness and thought, until a soft knock at his door made him stiffen. Every muscle tensed until he realized that he had nowhere left to run. He knew it was Darun, there was no one else it could be. Narsus forced his body to relax back into the secure embrace of his overstuffed chair. He molded an indifferent mask back onto his features as he waited for the second knock. When it came he called out, "The door's open, Darun."

****************

Darun didn't know how long he stood in the hall staring at the patterns the wood grain made in the door of Narsus' bedroom before he worked up the courage to actually knock. He had to do this right the first time. Oh, Ashe, please guide me. Help me to find the words that will make him listen to me. Help me to place into words all that I feel in my heart. His greatest fear was that he wouldn't have the words he needed to tell Narsus how he felt and how very sorry he was. It was Narsus who possessed the gift of eloquence, not him. Darun was so afraid of stumbling over his tongue as he always did. He was so afraid that his inability to communicate would make him angry and defensive, and ultimately drive Narsus even further away from him. If he couldn't express himself or became angry, Narsus would flay him alive. Darun could match or best his friend with a blade, but on a field where words were the weapons of choice, he was hopelessly outclassed.

Finally, Darun convinced himself to knock. The sound was unnaturally loud as it fell into the silence of the sleeping household, yet there was no answer. Was he sleeping? Had he already missed his chance? Darun swallowed nervously, then knocked a little harder. If he woke Narsus, then so be it. He couldn't let the opportunity this night presented pass. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until he let it out at the sound of Narsus' voice, sounding cold and distant, and not at all sleepy. There was no turning back now. Taking a deep, calming breath, Darun squared his shoulders and turned the doorknob.

****************

The dimly lit hall seemed like brightest daylight when compared to the murk he faced when Darun stepped into Narsus' bedroom. A single candle shone on the small oak stand set next to the rumpled but vacant bed on the left wall of the room. No moonlight streamed in through the windows that faced him, no fire was lit in the fireplace that stood between them. Where? Darun turned slowly in a circle, seeking the man he needed to tell so much. The paintings that dotted the walls between the cold sconces gazed on what seemed to be an empty room. His friend didn't stand before any of the bookcases flipping through the pages of any of the too numerous to count books, nor was he lost in the depths of the huge wardrobe that adorned the wall to his right. That left only the desk and arm chair on the far side of the wardrobe, set to take full advantage of any warmth that would come from the lit fireplace and any sunlight that would come from the large window. The shadow on the chair had to be Narsus. Darun resolutely strode forward.

Let the play begin. Narsus listened as Darun entered, listened as the other man looked for him, yet made no move to aid him. He could barely control the urge to just tell Darun to leave. He didn't, for he had to maintain at least a pretense of civility. He didn't know why Darun was here, didn't want to know, but the sooner he found out, the sooner he'd be able to get Darun to leave. As he heard soft footsteps finally approaching, he quietly asked, "What do you want from me, Darun?"

Goddess, how many levels of meaning did he weave into that single sentence? Sounding so old and worn, Narsus hadn't even looked over at him as he'd asked the question. The other man was curled up in the deep arm chair, bare feet drawn up beneath him, face turned towards the window. Darun took a few more steps toward the shadowy figure, trying to see Narsus' face. The moon chose that moment to steal from behind a cloud, and its light streamed through the window on Narsus' far side bathing him in silver. Narsus wore only his trousers, his hair was unbound and flowed over his shoulder and bare chest. Darun's breath silently caught. Goddess, he was beautiful. He tried to gather his suddenly scattered wits and force words from his too dry throat. "Narsus, you should light some more candles, it's too dark in here." Darun winced internally. Could he have come up with a more inane thing to say?

"I like the dark, Darun, it suits my mood." Narsus let just a little of his tension and frustration into his words. "You didn't come here to make small talk, Darun. What is it you want with me?" Say what you need to, then leave. Narsus suspected that Darun was about to make one last attempt to convince him to join them tomorrow.

Darun found himself at the edge of a precipice, ready to plunge over it to his death, or his life. This was it. Say it. Perhaps begin the healing for both of them. "I-, Narsus, I wanted to talk about what happened. I'm-,"

About what... Narsus controlled his surprise, but just barely. Why? Why now? Why did he have to dredge up everything that was ugly between them? It was over, and had been for a long time. Feeling pain clawing the edge of his mask, Narsus interrupted, "What use are words now, Darun? You were quite eloquent three years ago without them. We have nothing whatever to say to one another." Earlier, when he'd said that he lived in the present not the past, he'd been facetious. If anything, Narsus knew he had a tendency to dwell overmuch on the past. Not so Darun. What happened, happened. Darun moved on and never looked back. So why did he want to talk about this now? Why not just after it happened? Why not any time over the last three years? All that he'd lost that fateful afternoon moved through him once more, curling into one, solid, hurtful ball that lodged deep in his chest.

"Narsus!" Narsus' words were as sharp as his blade, and cut as easily. Though he sat so quietly and seemed so distant as he stared blankly out the window, Narsus forcefully managed to convey how deeply opposed he was to this topic of conversation. It was like pleading to empty, unfeeling stone. The fear that Narsus no longer felt anything but animosity for him shook Darun down to his very soul. Was he too late? "Please! Give me a chance to speak!"

"Oh, by all means, speak. You seem determined to do so whether I want you to or not." Narsus removed one arm from where it had been wrapped around his legs and waved his hand languidly in the general direction of Darun's voice. What was left of his heart was slowly shattering into as many pieces as there were stars in the sky, but his mask still held firm. "Say what you feel you must so you can leave." Narsus prayed that Darun would be brief, for he didn't know how long the mask could hold the pieces together.

"I-," Speech momentarily deserted Darun in the face of such cold, disdainful opposition. It was plain that Narsus had no intention of listening to him. Darun breathed deeply, forcing himself to relax. He must find words that Narsus couldn't help but hear. "How I reacted was wrong, Narsus. I am so sorry. What I did was so wrong."

Against his will, the window reflection of Darun's tense form melted away, leaving Narsus with the ages old vision of two young friends sparring. Their practice blades had been lost as that sparring eventually degenerated into a wrestling match. Being with his friend had felt so good, so right after an endless week's worth of political and social maneuverings where he continually had to watch his tongue and himself in order to always do or say the right thing at the right time to the right person. It had been exhilarating to shed all the masks and roles his life and career forced him to assume and just be plain, old Narsus for a change. A man who could laugh or smile whenever he felt like it, could speak his mind with no fear of repercussion. That Narsus was very fortunate to have a friend such as Darun. That Narsus unfortunately forgot that there was one mask that he must never, ever shed in front of his best friend, the one that concealed just how much he was in love with that friend.

In light of Darun's greater strength and weight, Narsus had been quickly pinned in the grassy courtyard where they practiced. Pinned with Darun straddling his hips. One strong hand had held his wrists above his head while the other made short work of tickling him breathless. Narsus could have freed himself perhaps, but hadn't wanted to. Relaxing enough to play in such a way with anyone was... invigorating. It lightened his heart and gladdened his soul. He'd felt so close to Darun at that moment. They'd both been laughing so hard that Darun had to pause to let him catch his breath. His friend's face had been so joyfully animated, graced with a beautiful smile that fired his eyes. Stretched out atop him, Darun's face, that much loved face, had been so close to his own.

To this day, Narsus could not determine why he had raised his head the required few inches and pressed his lips gently against Darun's in the briefest of kisses. Heat of the moment? Momentary insanity? The love that consumed him and the ease and comfort he took in Darun's company? Some horrible combination of them all? He couldn't say what had made him lose the control he had maintained for so long. He had loved Darun from very nearly the first moment he'd seen him. He was so very handsome, so very kind, so strong, a tremendously talented soldier and leader, so solid, reassuring, and intelligent. Darun had somehow quickly become a close friend, something that Narsus had very few of, for the combination of his keen intelligence, ready wit, and sharp tongue drove off more people than it attracted. Yet, Darun had accepted him, sharp edges and all. He had cherished that friendship, and as Darun had never once shown the slightest interest in members of his own sex, Narsus had buried his love and attraction as deeply within as he could. He vowed he would never do anything which would jeopardize what had become the most important relationship in his life.

Narsus had succeeded, had maintained that control for many, many years. He had been content, satisfied as his friendship with Darun deepened and grew. With that friendship to balance him and anchor him, to remind him that he wasn't that creature of politics and intrigue, he had been happy. Until a simple kiss had shattered his happiness and his life as easily as an icicle shatters when dropped on the frozen ground. Reality had gained a nightmarish edge, one that never quite faded over the ensuing years, as Darun had pulled away as if burned, all blood draining from his face. Profound shock was chased away by disgust, which was, in turn, chased away by... rage. A rage so all-encompassing that for just a moment, Narsus could barely recognize his gentle friend. Was this what Darun's enemies saw when they faced him in battle? Then, one strong hand, the one that had been merrily tickling him moments ago, had risen high across Darun's body only to descend in a vicious back-handed blow across his right cheek. As Narsus, mind whirling in shock, confusion, and pain, tried to make sense of what had just happened, Darun gracefully rose to his feet, picked up his sword, and walked away, never looking back, never saying a single word. Though Narsus had tried before he'd left court, they had never spoken again.

Narsus' life had ended in that deserted courtyard. He'd secluded himself until the bruise on his cheek had faded, would that the ache in his soul fade as easily. He moved through his life as if it belonged to someone else, detached and unfeeling. Only when he tried to see or speak with Darun over the following weeks did he feel anything, and then only soul-wrenching despair as he was rebuffed time and time again. Eventually, Narsus had grown careless, or simply uncaring. He'd worn the wrong mask at the wrong time, had not held his tongue, and had infuriated Andragoras to the point that he'd been stripped of his post when he'd argued for the end of slavery. More relieved than anything, and with nothing more to hold him in Ekubatahna, Narsus had seized the opportunity to escape the shambles his life had become and had fled to his current sanctuary. He took only Elam with him, the only thing left in his life that mattered to him.

Abruptly, Narsus' eyes refocused on Darun's taut reflection as his nightmarish replay of the past released him. He stared back at those reflected eyes, mourning the loss of everything he'd once held dear. "Yes, it was wrong." Goddess, was that stricken whisper his voice? Did it really matter what he sounded like when he was bleeding to death inside? Not really. He had to end this. Now. Before he lost what little dignity he still possessed and dissolved into hysterics in front of this man. He made an effort to modulate his voice into something that resembled detachment. "I accept your apology, Darun. Now, please, just go away."

Ashe, help me. Darun knew what Narsus was remembering as he went even more distant than he'd been before. The same scene that played over and over in his own nightmares. Narsus didn't understand what he was trying to convey. "Dammit, Narsus, listen. I'm sor-." He fell silent, fell back a step, as Narsus exploded out of his chair, one arm flying wide as his emerald eyes caught fire.

Enough of this! The cold detachment Narsus was clinging to as if to a lifeline burned away under the force of a sudden fury. Why didn't he just let this die? How much more can this hurt? It was almost in self-defense that Narsus rounded on the other man, hissing, "Sorry for what, Darun? Sorry for striking me? Sorry for rebuffing any and every attempt I ever made to see you and try to explain?" He couldn't sustain the rage as he watched Darun's brows draw together in the beginnings of an answering anger that would match his own. The fire in him abruptly died, leaving him cold and empty again. What was the use? He drew the numbness about himself like a shielding cloak, and turned away, wrapping his arms around himself. His voice emerged as the barest whisper as he asked again, "Sorry for what, Darun? Sorry that your one-time closest friend threw away the only relationship that had ever meant anything to him?" He shook his head sadly, something bitter that couldn't be called a laugh escaping before he could prevent it. "I'm the one who's sorry, Darun. I destroyed everything we ever had. I can't blame you for your reaction. I never meant to expose how I felt about you." He sank back into his chair, pulling his legs back up and wrapping his arms about them. He was so cold, felt so old, tired, and defeated. Please, just go away, Darun. I can't take this anymore.

The anger that had defensively sparked to life in Darun faded away to nothing as Narsus turned away. Goddess, how could he blame himself and not me? He took a single step towards the huddled form on the chair that radiated such misery, reached out with one hand, but abruptly restrained himself. Though Darun longed with all that was in him to wrap Narsus in his arms and offer his comfort, he hadn't yet earned that right, and he suspected his touch would not be welcome. It wasn't Narsus' fault that their friendship had died, it was his. So softly, he denied, "No, Narsus, you have nothing to be sorry for. You were brave enough to show me how you felt. And I, I reacted... very badly." He laughed shortly, hearing the bitter regret that colored his voice and praying that Narsus heard it as well. "I never should have reacted as I did, Narsus." Wishing that Narsus would turn and look at him, Darun whispered, "I should have kissed you back."

Darun's quiet words were enough to penetrate Narsus' despair, bringing his head up in something that approached shock. The other man's words were unexpected, and his tone was a surprise, for he'd expected anger, not this quiet sorrow. Fledgling hope stirred for the first time in the burnt out cinder his heart had become three years ago. Did he say...? No! He didn't know what Darun had managed to convince himself of after so long, but he couldn't afford to delude himself, and brutally squashed the hope beneath the mantle of indifference that had always served him so well.

There was no reaction from Narsus other than the raising of his head from where it had rested against his knees. Darun just knew he was doing this wrong, knew he was ruining everything, yet he had to keep trying, would keep trying until Narsus physically threw him from the room. "Narsus? I-, I should have responded with the attraction I-,"

"Attraction?" Incredulous anger rose up to swallow him whole again, and Narsus swung his feet down and around so he could see Darun. His friend had never, not once, given Narsus any evidence that he thought of him as anything but a friend. If that reaction had been attraction, then he wouldn't want to see love. Distantly aware that he wasn't being fair, Narsus lashed out with all the hurt he'd been holding inside all this time. "You were attracted to me, so you show it by backhanding me, and then walking away? And I suppose I should thank you for not running me through with your blade? I congratulate you on your self-restraint!"

"No! Damn you, Narsus! Will you just shut up and let me finish?" Darun heard his voice rising as he tried to defend himself against disdainful sharpness of Narsus' words. When Narsus closed those flashing eyes and leaned back again in his chair, Darun fought his temper back under control. Anger would only add to this mis-communication. Much more quietly, he confirmed, "Yes, attraction. I'm sorry, Narsus, I never meant to hurt you in any way." A fist closed around his heart as he watched one elegant hand creep up to cradle the cheek he'd struck in his anger and panic.

"Then why?" Narsus felt hollow inside as his anger once more drained away. "Why, Darun?" He rubbed gently at his right cheek, trying to soothe the phantom ache he sometimes still felt there. That single blow had hurt him far worse than any wound he'd ever taken in battle. The sound of rustling cloth from Darun's direction made him open his eyes to see that the other man had sank to sit cross-legged on the floor a few feet from his chair. Darun's posture was slumped and uncertain, so unlike the supremely confident man Narsus remembered so well.

Darun intently studied the intricate patterns on the carpet he sat on, unable to take the chance of meeting Narsus' eyes. Very softly he whispered, "Because that kiss terrified me, Narsus. What it made me feel terrified me. What it forced me to acknowledge, what I'd been denying for a long time, terrified me." Darun forced himself to look up. Losing himself in wide emerald, his voice sinking even lower, he finally admitted, "You terrify me, Narsus."

I what? Oh, Goddess, it was the very last thing he'd ever expected to hear. Narsus instinctively responded to the sadness and guilt he saw in those bottomless blue eyes and heard in that soft whisper. Though he was beginning to understand, he asked, "Why, Darun? Why do I terrify you? Because I'm a man? We've both known and respected shield-mated warriors. You know as well as I that love is love, regardless of gender. In all the time I've known you, you've never shown any discomfort with the concept of same gender pairs. Why ever would my kiss terrify you so?"

Darun closed his eyes and lowered his head as he fought to find the words to explain the utter panic that had consumed him when Narsus had kissed him. "I have never felt any attraction whatsoever for any man other than you, Narsus. Never. I've never seen myself loving another man. I had denied for so long that I was attracted to you, but with that kiss, I couldn't lie to myself any longer. I was so confused and so frightened. I panicked and I lashed out at you."

"Darun, loving another, be it man or woman, does not change who you essentially are." Things were becoming clear. Darun was so sure of himself, was always in control of himself. Narsus had never known another person who was more sure of who he was and where he fit in the scheme of things. Changing how he viewed himself would be like knocking the horse out from under him in the middle of a charge. And that was exactly what he'd done with that sudden, completely unexpected kiss. Narsus closed his eyes briefly, pained at the turmoil he'd caused one that he'd never intended to offer anything but love and friendship.

Confession finally uttered after all this time, Darun felt an incredible weight lift off him. The words came easier as he sensed Narsus' understanding in that one quiet, compassionate statement. Could that understanding lead to the reconciliation that he longed for? He lost himself again in no longer cold emerald as he softly asked, "Doesn't it? That simple kiss re-shaped my entire world. You were no longer who I thought you were, and I was someone I no longer recognized. After I left that day, I managed to slide right back into denial. I was so confused, and couldn't face what had happened for a long time. But I finally couldn't deny it anymore. I tried for so long to identify the person that kiss had created, and if I could live as him, but I didn't know him." Darun broke off as emerald was shuttered. He wasn't often able to read Narsus so clearly, but this conversation seemed to have stripped the man he loved of all his defenses. He could see Narsus visibly withdrawing as he attempted to rebuild walls.

And so it goes. Oh, Goddess, to have his love. It was all that Narsus had ever dreamed of, and Darun's heartfelt, honest confession and his understanding of the other man's reaction to that kiss had seemed to bring that dream once more within his reach. 'But I didn't know him.' The words echoed through his mind as his heart broke all over again. He can't reconcile loving me. Narsus closed his eyes and desperately tried to slip back into the comfortable numbness that had once protected him.

Darun moved without thought until he was kneeling in front of Narsus' chair, nearly between the other man's legs. He had to prevent Narsus from drawing away from him, ached to ease the pain that expressive face was showing. He reached out and placed his fingers gently under Narsus' chin, urging the other man to look at him. "Narsus, wait, I'm not saying this right." The shadows in the dimly lit room were not deep enough to mask the hopeless wariness in the emerald depths that finally rose to meet his eyes. "It took a long time, but I finally decided that it didn't matter if I didn't know who I had become. You're all that matters to me, Narsus, and I cannot go on as I have. Though I may not know the person shaped by that kiss, I do know the person shaped by your absence. He is lonely, bitter, angry, and crippled in so many ways." There was no lessening of the stiffness under his fingertips. No change in Narsus but for slowly widening eyes. Oh, Ashe, please. Trying to project all that he felt into the whisper his voice degenerated into, Darun pleaded, "Please, Narsus, I need you. I know what I did to you is unforgivable, but I need to ask that you forgive me anyway. Please, trust me enough to risk yourself again. I want to know the man I could have become if I hadn't thrown away all you offered me. He has such tremendous potential, for he would have you beside him, and he loves you." He leaned forward, never taking his eyes off Narsus. "Narsus, I love you." Darun closed the final distance between them, brushing his lips against those of the love he hoped to gain in a questing, tentative question.