Disclaimer section: Narsus, Darun and all other characters appearing in this do not belong to me, more's the pity, and I'm not making any money off this. Guess that about covers it.

Part Three

The room was small, but comfortable, and had two large window seats which overlooked the front porch of the house. After Elam had lit the numerous sconces which dotted the walls, he’d left, looking as subdued as Darun felt after the altercation that had just taken place downstairs. Arislan immediately crossed to the bed just to the right of the door, and, after pulling off his boots, flung himself face down onto it’s cream and tan etched length with a tremendous sigh. Darun smiled indulgently as he crossed the thick carpet to the room’s other bed, and settled himself onto it more sedately so he could remove his own boots.

Arislan stirred, then levered himself up again so that he could light the candle sticks on the commode in between the two beds from the nearest wall sconce. He pushed the basin and pitcher further back so that his candles’ light would not be blocked, then collapsed again onto the bed, this time with his head at its foot.

"It’s a pity we can’t stay long enough to unpack." Arislan smiled over at Darun, jerking a thumb in the direction of the two enormous wardrobes which graced the wall opposite the beds. He sighed regretfully, then scooted forward until he was hanging off the foot of the bed so that he could rummage in his pack for some bedclothes.

"We haven’t enough clothing with us to begin to fill even one of those monstrosities, Highness." It was a pity though. Darun let loose his own sigh as he stood and moved over to the window seat nearest his bed.

He folded himself into it, putting his feet up and leaning his head back against the window frame. Vague rustling noises sounded from behind him as his Prince readied himself for bed, but Darun ignored them, not yet ready for sleep himself. He lost himself, staring through the warm glow of candles that was reflected back at him by the windows and into the depths of the night darkened forest which surrounded them.

"Aren’t you going to sleep, Darun?"

Darun started, brought him back to himself by Arislan’s quiet question. No, Arislan, I’m not. Please go to sleep. I don’t want to have to think any more this night. Let me lose myself again. Lost, he wouldn’t be consumed by the fierce emotions he was feeling. Guilt, both old and new. He’d hurt Narsus three years ago, and he’d hurt him again just that night. Confusion. He was unsure of what to say to Narsus, unsure how to make things right again. Frustration over his inability to find the words he needed to express all that he felt in his soul. And, finally, fear. No, what he felt was closer to terror. Stark terror that he wouldn’t be able to make things right again.

Darun brought his feet to the floor and swung out of the seat. Even if he felt tired, Darun doubted he’d be able to sleep.

Arislan was already in his bed, seated cross-legged with the blankets around his waist. He looked altogether too young in just his nightshirt, with his hair brushed out and completely unadorned. Too young to have to face all that they would have to face.

A sigh fought to escape instead of the slight smile Darun allowed to settle on his lips as he slowly made his way over to his own bed. "I’ll sleep in a little while, my Prince."

"We’ve a long way to go and must leave early tomorrow. You need to sleep, Darun."

"And I will, my Prince." Darun settled himself atop the covers on his bed and leaned back against the pillows and headboard. "In a little while." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Oh. All right. Goodnight, Darun."

"Good night, my Prince." Darun listened, eyes still closed, as the rustling sounds of Arislan settling himself for sleep came from the direction of the Prince’s bed. Sleep well, my Prince. Solitude would be a relief. Arislan’s slumber would free him from the necessity of maintaining the crumbling facade of control he currently wore.

"Darun?" The softest of murmurs.

Darun suddenly felt like screaming. Oh, Arislan, please go to sleep. Give me a chance to regain my balance. He forced any sign of frustration from his voice as he mildly acknowledged, "Yes, Arislan?"

"Darun, do you thing he’ll agree to join us?"

There was such hope in Arislan’s voice that Darun could barely control a flinch. The last thing Darun wanted was to crush that hope, but he just couldn’t lie to the youth. Arislan trusted him. Eyes still closed, he softly replied, "I honestly don’t know, my Prince." I don’t know if he’ll come, I don’t even know if letting our pursuers see us come this way will be enough to drive Narsus from his sanctuary. Not sure if it’s enough.

Oh, Goddess. A kind of panic began in the pit of Darun’s stomach and tingled its way out to his every extremity. It was entirely possible that he had very little time to set things right between he and Narsus. Abruptly, all the emotions churning deep within him crystallized into a single, aching need.

He had to talk to Narsus. Now. Tonight. Before he went to sleep. Tonight might be all he had left, the only chance he’d ever have to get Narsus to forgive him, the only chance for them to be together.

"Oh." There was silence for about three seconds before Arislan was speaking again. "Darun?"

The disturbed note that had entered his Prince’s voice helped Darun break free of the storm of distress that had descended on him. He clenched his eyes shut even tighter and fought for control, thankful that the room’s shadows masked his expression. Somehow, he managed to still sound calm as he answered, "Yes, Arislan?"

"Darun, I was only 11 when Narsus left court, and I never knew him, but I had always believed that the two of you were very close friends. You’ve always spoken of him with such respect and fondness. Will you tell me what happened earlier downstairs? Such deep anger hardly seems normal for two close friends."

Arislan was sometimes too perceptive. With a sigh, Darun finally opened his eyes and looked over at his Prince, who was curled on his side, hugging his pillow, and looking for all the world like a child who was about to be told a bedtime story. I’m sorry, Arislan, but this story would just give you nightmares. Somehow, Darun knew that of all people, he could trust his Prince with the truth. Arislan would not condemn his feelings for Narsus, nor would he judge Darun if he knew of the horrible mistake he’d made when he’d thrown Narsus away. Of all people, Darun was sure that Arislan would support both he and Narsus if they ever did have a relationship. Yet, how could he expose the pain both he and Narsus obviously felt? What was between them now was so raw. He had to try to talk to Narsus first, try his best to resolve the mess he’d made of things. He couldn’t, just couldn’t force a confession past his lips just yet.

Slowly and carefully, for Arislan did deserve some sort of explanation, Darun replied, "We were once the best of friends, Arislan, but a short time before Narsus left court we… fought. I am very fond of him, and I do respect him tremendously, but… I guess neither one of us has ever completely recovered from that fight. The anger is still there."

"Ah. Do you think it will effect his decision to join us?"

"It certainly could, Arislan." Darun didn’t doubt that Narsus was torn by indecision. In Arislan lay the realization of every dream Narsus had ever had for their country, but was that enough to stand up against the fact that to be a part of bringing those dreams to fruition, he’d be forced to work hand in hand with the man who’d hurt him so badly? Darun didn’t know.

"Oh." Arislan’s voice was very quiet, his blue eyes hooded in thought. Darun was still watching his Prince and waiting when those blue eyes were raised again. "Darun, I realize that personally, any conflict between you and Narsus is none of my business, but as your Prince, I need to take notice of anything that may jeopardize our purpose. Please, forgive me when I ask this. Are you sorry about that fight?"

More sorrowful than I’m capable of expressing. No, I have to be able to express it if I’m ever going to regain Narsus. Darun leaned his head back against the headboard again and stared up at the wood paneled ceiling as he tiredly admitted, "I am immensely sorry for my part in our falling out."

"Then maybe you should go talk to him tonight, now, in private, before he’s asleep. Tell him you’re sorry."

Darun realized he was staring at his Prince with his mouth hanging open, and abruptly closed it with a snap. He didn’t know why he was still continually surprised by his young charge. He should expect Arislan’s insight and perception by now. Beginning to smile faintly, he softly confessed, "I was going to sneak out after you were asleep, Highness, and do just that." His smile grew as Arislan began to chuckle.

"There’s no need for that, Darun. Just go, and much luck to you." More soberly, the young Prince added, "We need him, Darun, so as your Prince, I need you to fix this trouble so that it doesn’t prevent him from accompanying us, but as your friend, I’d like both of you to solve your problems since I can see that both of you are hurting."

He proves once more how justified we are in placing such hopes in him. Darun smiled as he rose from his bed silently and gracefully. "I want to end this conflict, my Prince. With your permission, I’ll go now."

"Go on, this way I can fall asleep without your snoring."

There was a smile in Arislan’s voice, but Darun couldn’t respond to his Prince’s tease as he considered just what he was about to do. He was afraid, more afraid than he’d ever been while facing screaming hordes of enemies on the battlefield whose sole purpose was to kill him. Oh, but what he would gain if he were successful.

Controlling a grimace and praying his anxiety was not evident in his voice, Darun replied, "Don’t count on that, my Prince. I’ll be back quicker than you can blink if he refuses to speak with me." He tried to smile into blue eyes which suddenly held a wealth of compassion, but failed miserably.

"Just go, Darun. It’ll turn out right." Arislan’s soft reassurance followed him as Darun slipped out the door.

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 nightstand 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 wineglass 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.