Final Fantasy X-2: The All Good Things

Isaaru's office had grown colder as the hour had late. He went over his paperwork with little attention. He was six months into his position in New Yevon and he could go through the papers almost without thinking about it. The chill in the room wasn't bad, but he knew outside it would be worse. Walking home would not be pleasant.

Of course, he didn't have to walk home. Isaaru's hand faltered over his work and he winced.

Isaaru had started to get used to Baralai keeping him in the temple a few nights a week. Isaaru understood that their relationship couldn't be public. Baralai was always discreet and Isaaru tried to be as well, although he found it harder and harder to leave the temple on nights where Baralai found him after hours. He was often lonesome at home with his brothers gone, and it had not taken Isaaru long to learn just how fast he could get attached to waking up with someone beside him.

He recalled his father and how broken he had been over the loss of his mother. Isaaru felt the guilt, like quick, slippery fingers, run across him for comparing the two relationships. It was over ten years of love between his parents to the seven months he had spent with Baralai. However, he thought he could understand his father a little better now. It was easier to see how it had been possible for him to fade away, even with Pacce only a year old and Maroda and himself nowhere near old enough to care for themselves.

Love did strange things to people.

Isaaru felt his face flush as he sorted the completed paperwork into piles to send out the next morning. The word had been creeping into his head more and more often, a stark reminder that he was losing his mind.

Bevelle had been prospering in leaps and bounds the past few months, the old ways and habits reforming. One of those habits had been the social season, and Isaaru wasn't allowed to miss those who were prime candidates for marriage. He did not mind councilman Izak, but his quiet digs over Baralai's bachelorhood were meant to do nothing but hurt.

He wondered if the two councilmen that knew about his relationship with Baralai mocked anyone but him, but thought the chances of that slim.

Baralai had been absent from Bevelle quite often the past few weeks. He had made a promise to all the representatives of the congress to visit their homes. It left Isaaru feeling lonelier than usual, even though Pacce had returned for two weeks to visit. He was growing so fast now, a summer growth spurt adding several inches to his height. Isaaru thought that he might take after his father and be just as tall. What surprised Isaaru most was Pacce's entrance into the minor blitz leagues that took place in the off-season. Pacce had only ever shown a passing interest in blitzball, but Isaaru was happy he had found what he wanted. Maroda hadn't returned to Bevelle since he had departed for the reforming Crusaders. Isaaru read news about him all the time, fighting off fiends in undeveloped areas around the Highroad. He missed Maroda, and wondered when he would get to see him again.

He leaned back in his chair. It had been a long day, and Isaaru had to admit to himself that he was annoyed—he had heard of Baralai's return to Bevelle just after lunch, but he hadn't seen him at all. He was used to Baralai searching him out. Just as well, he supposed, it would make it easier to go home and not have the silent battle over whether he would stay.

He turned off the light on his desk with one button—a marvel, he had thought, when Rikku had dumped it on his desk three months ago asking him to test it. It had been invented by someone she had called Shinra, and he was rather attached to it.

Machina was still a mystery to him, and he had already burned his fingers on the glowing glass that cast the light once. He had decided to not be curious and just accept the inevitable. He knew at the next congress—the second ever—he would be moving to bring machina into Bevelle for regular citizens. It would make the Machine Faction happy, but the New Yevon council would be displeased.

Isaaru was finding playing politics hard to avoid.

He locked his office on the way out as his eyes drifted to the door leading to the private quarters. It was ajar?not uncommon, as it was still early and acolytes were still going in and out serving dinner. Isaaru stared at the gap between the door and frame and then, cursing himself for being a fool, headed towards it.

The hallway of the private quarters was quiet and dim, candles glowing in their sconces on the wall down to the last bits of their wicks, he imagined, after burning all day. He wondered sometimes if Bevelle kept the candle makers in Kilika in business all by themselves.

He wasn't surprised to see the doors to Baralai's sitting room and bedroom closed. He looked down both directions of the hallways and knocked on the sitting room door. His knuckles made a deep sound on the wood, echoing around him. He was making an idiot of himself, and breaking their rules, besides. Baralai had told him once that he should be wary of coming to the room alone.

Isaaru didn't knock again when there was no answer. It was just as well. When Baralai wanted him he would find him. It was how it had been, how it would remain under whatever this was between them ended. Tucking his hand tightly into his sleeves, he turned to go.

The crack of a door behind him made his stomach drop, but he kept his eyes on the hallway that would lead him out. It was too late though.

"Isaaru?"

He turned and stared at Baralai. If not for years of training in maintaining a polite face, he would've been lost. Baralai peered out from his bedroom door; hair and what clothes he was wearing rumpled, feet bare and eyes squinting even in the low light. He had been sleeping—it made this all the worse. Coming here as well as waking Baralai up; Isaaru felt like laughing at himself.

Isaaru bowed, just far enough that he didn't have to take his eyes away. "I'm sorry to disturb you."

Baralai rubbed at his face, looking very young. "Is anything wrong?"

"No, I—" Fool, Isaaru told himself; this was why the rules existed. "I heard you had returned but hadn't seen you." He kept his eyes on Baralai's face instead of the open folds of the undershirt Baralai wore. It was just what he didn't need right now.

Baralai didn't respond for a moment, and then opened the door further. "Come in, then."

"I was just going—"

"Oh, Isaaru, just come in." Baralai's voice was annoyed now and Isaaru didn't want to risk making it worse.

The room wasn't quite dark; Baralai had the connecting door to his sitting room open where a fire was crackling, throwing meager light into the bedroom. Baralai didn't speak again, just moved back toward the bed. Isaaru turned to look at him and was shocked.

"Baralai, what's happened?" It wasn't hard to see how his movements were careful and deliberate. When he sat on the edge of the bed he did so in slow motion, and Isaaru's hands shook at the look on his face.

"Knew you would do nothing but worry." Baralai didn't bother looking up. "It's nothing serious now, just muscle pain. The spell eased the broken bones, but the healer said I'll be sore for a few days."

Isaaru could feel the blood draining from his face. "What did you do?"

Baralai looked up and smiled, hair draping into his eyes. "Tried—successfully, I might add—to stop my chocobo from rampaging over a small group of children just outside the city." He laughed and then winced. "Ah, I think Gippal gave me the wild one on purpose."

Isaaru moved to stand in front of him, wanting to touch and reassure himself. "Who cast the spell? It should have healed you completely."

"It was only low-level. One of the child mages from the school here in Bevelle cast it—they were visiting the Chocobo Knights stationed outside the city."

Isaaru frowned and put his hands on Baralai's neck. "A waste," he said, annoyed. "If had sent for me I could have—"

Baralai made a noise when Isaaru's hands brushed over his shoulders, and Isaaru jerked back, sleeves snapping in his haste. "I didn't realize you had come that far in your training. Put your hands back, that felt lovely."

Baralai was burning up when Isaaru returned his hands, and his temper worsened. "This is how your guards protect you? By letting inexperienced mages work magic on you?"

"Don't be upset, I practically ordered them to allow the girl to do it." Baralai leaned into Isaaru's grip. "My arm was quite broken, believe me. I can deal with this pain easier, I think."

"You have a fever, which means no spell will help you now. If you had just waited—" Isaaru regretted it for a moment, but there was nothing to be done. "Have you had them prepare you anything?"

"Oh, some awful drink." Baralai glared up at him. "If you try to make me have more of it, I'll break your arm, thanks."

Isaaru smiled at his expression, the petulant glare so rare for Baralai to use. "It's meant to help the fever and let you rest."

"Apparently I'll have an array of colorful bruises down my side soon," Baralai said. "Oh, and—I guess I should tell you now."

Isaaru didn't like that tone, it always meant Baralai was going to tell him something he did not want to hear, that never meant anything but work. "Perhaps you should."

"Shelinda was with us."

"Let me guess—with her recorder."

"You might be correct."

"Perfect." Isaaru squeezed his hands into Baralai's shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscles. "I suppose tomorrow I can expect flowers and letters. How am I supposed to get work done with your admirers wasting my time?"

"Sorry." Baralai's voice was quiet, and Isaaru was growing more and more displeased with the second.

"No need to apologize." Isaaru pushed the shirt Baralai was wearing back to press his fingers into untouched skin. "Were you sleeping in your clothes?"

"People kept knocking, it was just easier." Baralai reached out and tugged him closer by the tie on his robes, wrapping one arm around his hip—the one that hadn't been broken. Just the thought made Isaaru feel ill.

"It's late now, you should try to rest more." Isaaru couldn't do anything more than comfort. "I can—I can stay and keep people from waking you."

"That'd be fine." Isaaru's robes muffled Baralai's voice, his breath warming the fabric. "Well, the first part, anyway."

Isaaru couldn't help himself—he laughed out loud. He cupped Baralai's face in his palms so he could tilt his head back and see his eyes. "I doubt you're up for exercise, Baralai."

"Mock me in my suffering, go ahead." Baralai moved his arm and started pushing at fabric. "Here, take this off and lie with me."

"But—"

"Don't care, really." Isaaru had no clue how Baralai could get his heavy robes off with one arm and sitting on the bed, but he had somehow managed it. "Today was a bad day before the fall, anyway, so I'll indulge in your taking pity on me just this once."

Isaaru worked hard not to smile as he grasped Baralai's wrists and moved them away from his robes. "I'll stay if you'll let me call up for more medicine and take it so you'll actually rest. If you don't you'll simply jar yourself awake all night."

Baralai was silent, and Isaaru wondered if he would deny the demand and send him away, Baralai's pulse under his fingers was too erratic. It was a relief when he said, "I suppose."

"Climb in bed." The words were familiar—Isaaru had used them so often for Pacce. "I'll be back." Baralai took his hands away as Isaaru tightened the knots on his wrap that Baralai had tugged loose. He picked up his outer robe and took it with him, bringing the connecting door closed when he went to the sitting room to ring the bell to the serving area.

He was almost jealous of how fast response was, the tap on the sitting room door coming within a few minutes. Isaaru walked away from the fire to open the door.

"Praetor Ba—" The acolyte froze. "Lord Isaaru, excuse me, I didn't expect you."

Isaaru smiled, very glad of his luck. Tomas had been serving Baralai since his acceptance of the position of praetor. "Hello, Tomas. I'm assuming you've heard about the praetor's condition?"

Tomas nodded. "Yes, we are. We brought him medicine and food earlier, but?"

"We're going to try again," Isaaru said. "Could you bring it, with some food that he could have throughout the night if he wishes?"

"Certainly." Tomas hesitated, and then asked, "will you be caring for the praetor tonight? The healer had set someone to watch him, but Praetor Baralai sent them away."

"I will, yes." Tomas bowed and was gone down the hallway, leaving Isaaru staring at an empty hallway. He left the door ajar and returned to the fire. The room was growing cold with the night outside. Through the window, Isaaru could see the slight glow of candles. The few dots of bright light would be machina, brought into the city by individuals, rather than allowed in mass by council announcement.

"Isaaru?"

He turned to find Baralai standing in the open door to his bedroom. Isaaru knew chiding him for not lying down until called would do no good at all. "The medicine is coming."

"That's good." Baralai tugged his shirt up, wincing as he did it. "I think I need it."

Isaaru rolled his eyes. "Of course you do, you're injured. I requested some food, as well, in case you felt like eating."

"Maybe later." Baralai took a seat on the sofa and leaned back. "Come sit."

"You said your day was bad. What happened?" Isaaru took the chair closer to the fire, ignoring Baralai's look. Being sick made him less careful, Isaaru was discovering. It was as if he didn't care if the acolytes caught them.

"Another airship has been found," Baralai said. "Just off the cost of the Highroad, in fact."

Isaaru was shocked. He hadn't expected any news like that. "This is bad?"

"When people start arguing over who it will belong to, it is." Baralai leaned back. "A group of teenagers spotted it, so I was told, and spread the news to nearby Al Bhed, who of course, told Rin. Now Rin has started the process of bringing it up—it's half-buried underwater—and has claimed it for himself." Baralai laughed and Isaaru winced for him when he caught the pain flashing across his face. "I never thought I would live to see anyone fighting over machina."

"Airships are a good resource. Did you attempt to resolve the dispute?"

Baralai shook his head. "I think I caused things to be worse, because I involved Gippal. He's saying that as leader of the Machine Faction, big finds have to go through him and belong to who discovers them. Rin, of course, disagrees."

"I see." It meant, of course, that Gippal had just thrown the council in the middle of the problem. "Gippal did this with your approval?"

"Gippal did it because it was the fair thing to do." Baralai sat forward. "I don't happen to care for Rin much, nor some of his decisions."

"Is that going to be?acceptable?"

"I don't know. Gippal's bringing the proposal about the machina to the next council meeting, Rin's coming to appeal, and it's simply a huge mess."

The knock on the door interrupted Isaaru's reply. He stood as Tomas entered, pulling the food tray. He started when he turned to see Baralai on the sofa. "I'm sorry."

"No need," Baralai said, raising his head. "Just resting. Are you able to leave the tray until the morning?"

Tomas nodded. "Yes, sir, it is no problem. The medicine is in the small pouch; simply mix it with your tea."

"Thank you, Tomas." Isaaru returned his bow and was quick in locking the door as he left. He poured the tea and mixed the powder provided into the liquid as fast as he could, before Baralai could get stubborn again and refuse to take it.

He still made a face when Isaaru handed him the cup, but drank it, tossing it back without comment.

"Let me know if it doesn't work soon," Isaaru said. "It may mean you need more."

"I sincerely hope not." Baralai rubbed at his eyes. "Let's go lie down now, sitting is miserable."

Now that Baralai had taken the medicine, Isaaru couldn't argue. He followed Baralai back into his room, leaving the door open to the fire that wouldn't be burning much longer. He should have asked Tomas to build it up again, but he didn't want to bother him or Baralai with the trouble and noise.

When he turned around, even in the dim light he could see the dark bruises as Baralai pulled off the shirt he was wearing. They stood out from his skin in horrible patches down his right side. He imagined the healer would've taken care of the cuts and scrapes, but it didn't make the bruising any easier to look at. He wasn't aware he had made a noise until Baralai turned to look at him, surprised.

"Oh, Isaaru, don't look like that. They're just bruises."

"You look like you've been beaten."

"By a chocobo, and I lost, and my pride is severely damaged." The teasing note didn't cheer Isaaru at all. "I'm sore, grumpy and my boyfriend is having a fit of manly helplessness when all I want is rest."

Isaaru faltered on that, but smiled instead of lingering. "Then we'll rest."

Baralai's bed was, as far back as Isaaru could recall, the most luxurious thing Isaaru had ever lay on. Baralai had told him the mattress was full of feathers, created from the last of the chocobo farms before the Eternal Calm came and they went out of business. They sank into it, their backs against the accompanying pillows.

"I feel at least fifty years old, to be honest." Baralai had arranged his sore side away from Isaaru so he could tuck in close under the heavy covers, a new addition since the last time Isaaru had been here—acolytes preparing for the cooler nights upon the city, he supposed. "I don't think I want to see another chocobo again."

"They're such nice birds, though. You'll change your mind." It was nice here, like this, Baralai curled into him—not like the other times. This would be the first time they had made it to this position without losing all their clothes. He smiled to himself at the thought.

"I'm sorry." Baralai's voice was slurred and quiet and Isaaru thought he would sleep soon.

"For what?"

"For not coming to see you. I forgot how seriously you take things." Baralai shifted so he could look at him. "I say we get rid of having rules."

Isaaru grinned. "I think the medicine has made you a little loopy."

"Hmm, maybe." Baralai settled again. "I'm glad you came."

Isaaru pressed his cheek against Baralai's hair. "I'm glad I came, too." Isaaru quieted himself and kept still. He stayed alert until Baralai relaxed against him in sleep, and then closed his eyes to follow.

------------

Isaaru woke in darkness. He was warm but for his nose—the air outside the blankets was freezing. He couldn't even see embers from the fire any longer, which meant it was probably close to sunrise. He shifted in deliberate movement, so he wouldn't wake Baralai, who was tangled around him. Isaaru was surprised when he spoke.

"You're awake." Baralai was buried under covers, his voice muffled. Isaaru felt him raise his head. "I was moving around, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Are you well?" He imagined the medicine would have worn off by now. It didn't last more than six hours.

"Oh, just some pain from falling off a chocobo, then falling asleep in one position for several hours. Nothing much."

"You need to take something more if you're getting that sarcastic." Isaaru struggled to wake up more and shifted again, but Baralai didn't move.

"Hmm. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. Just hurts." In the quiet dark, Baralai's voice sounded small, and Isaaru didn't care for it at all.

"Let me get up and mix some more medicine for you." Isaaru was even more concerned when Baralai didn't argue, simply pulled away from Isaaru and rolled to his back. Isaaru's heart hurt at the sounds Baralai made in just that simple movement. He was going to find the monk and the person in charge of the children and flay them for letting an amateur cast low-level magic on someone injured as Baralai had been. The cold air on his bare skin didn't faze him much as he crossed to where the reminder of the medicine was.

The tea was cold, but Baralai wouldn't care, he knew. Isaaru doubled the dose, using the remainder of the pouch and turned to go back, trying to rein in his anger. It wasn't Baralai's fault that he was surrounded by idiots who had no clue about the magic they were using and how to apply it to real injuries.

Isaaru took a moment to light one of the candles on the wall as he reentered Baralai's room so he could see. Baralai was lying in bed, arm tossed over his eyes. He didn't move when Isaaru sat back on the bed.

"I think I would rather anything else than this," Baralai said. "This, quite frankly, sucks."

"It wouldn't be as bad if you had had proper care." Isaaru couldn't keep his tone placid. "Here, sit up and have this."

Baralai laughed, but Isaaru heard no humor. "I can't."

Isaaru blinked. "I see." It didn't bother him to help Baralai sit up and drink the chilly tea, but Isaaru knew that it would annoy Baralai. He didn't care for not being in control of his own body at all. Isaaru placed the empty cup on the bedside table and turned back. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, just come back to bed." Baralai held out his good arm from his place on his pillows. Isaaru tried not to see the bruises littering Baralai's other arm and side as he pulled the covers up around them. He let his hand linger over a purple mark the size of his fist on Baralai's stomach, wincing as his covered it with his palm.

"This shouldn't have happened. Some of these are so odd; did you fall into something?"

Baralai shrugged. "I twisted the reins and veered off to the side, and the chocobo decided to dump me in a huge pile of rocks. It was a larger one that broke my fall, and my arm."

Isaaru didn't care to look at Baralai's arm, which was shadowed with bruises everywhere except the breaking point, which showed smooth, unmarked skin. "You know enough about magic to know that one high-level spell after a bit is much better."

"I've learned my lesson, don't worry—I wasn't thinking straight." The candle flickering a few feet away made Baralai look haggard, and Isaaru had to check a cutting remark about the guards. "What a waste, I finally got you to come to me of your own free will and I can't even enjoy it."

Isaaru was sure his face was coloring with how warm he suddenly felt. "Excuse me?"

Baralai smiled. "Oh, silly rules that I never imagined you would take to heart as you did. I was serious about doing away with them." He covered Isaaru's hand with his own. "You are welcome here any time. You don't need my invitation or permission." The worried lines on Baralai's face smoothed out and under Isaaru's hand muscles relaxed. Isaaru was grateful; it meant the medicine was working.

"We said we needed to be discreet." Isaaru moved his eyes down.

"I meant it, but with others, not each other." Baralai's hand tightened on his. "One huge change at a time and we've already had one of those this year. I also have to say, I like the social season quite a lot—mostly the chocolate."

Isaaru laughed, snapped from the sourness he was beginning to sink into. "Your endless admirers."

"They have good taste," Baralai said. He knew Baralai wasn't talking only about the chocolate.

Isaaru slid in close, mindful not to jar Baralai too much. "You should go back to sleep and get some rest."

Baralai hummed a little as he pulled the covers up higher with his good arm. "I don't know why, it's not as if you're going to let me out of my bed any time soon. You're going to set the acolytes on me and I'll be trapped."

"Perhaps. Doesn't mean rest now will go to waste."

On the wall, the candle Isaaru had lit flickered and then went out, diminished by its own wax, casting the room back into darkness. Baralai was murmuring something Isaaru couldn't catch, and he was surprised when the hand pressing his against Baralai's skin moved them both down to dance at the edge of the underclothes Baralai still wore.

"Baralai—" Isaaru's voice caught, knowing what Baralai was asking for. It was unexpected.

"No?" Baralai had never made demands of him here, had always erred just shy of asking. He was good at leading, and Isaaru had allowed him to. This was a direct request, and Isaaru's heart raced with what it meant.

"No—I mean—" Isaaru's voice broke, and he laughed, even though he was mortified. "You're—"

"Shameless?" The tone was full of teasing. "Looking for pleasant distractions?"

"All those things, yes, but you're hurt." It was such a terrible excuse, and he felt Baralai tense from it. "Which is evidently not what you care to hear."

"You won't hurt me, Isaaru, you've done this often enough for yourself." Baralai's voice hadn't changed, tinged with the same humor as before. Isaaru's face flamed as Baralai pushed his hand down farther.

Isaaru wondered at what point Baralai had taken control of the situation. It wasn't surprising; he did it all the time. "I'm not concerned with me hurting yo—"

Baralai interrupted him by pressing his hips up, and Isaaru's hand curled over the stretched fabric with little hesitation, shivering at the noise Baralai made. He had maneuvered his free arm behind Isaaru, and laid his palm across Isaaru's back.

"Stop thinking, please," he said, "and touch me." His voice had the whine that crept in when he wasn't getting what he wanted fast enough. It smoothed some of Isaaru's nervousness away.

Baralai had never asked before. It made it easier for Isaaru to slide his hand under the thin fabric to wrap his fingers around hot, smooth skin. He shifted and buried his face in Baralai's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender from the soap Baralai used as he stroked, up and down. Baralai was tense, breath heavy as he rocked into Isaaru's palm.

Isaaru had been in Baralai's bed for months now. He knew what Baralai liked, the right pressure and that he moaned when Isaaru pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck and jaw. Baralai's hand pressed against his neck, urging him closer, and his breath skipped when he arched into Isaaru's hand again, back coming off the bed.

"Baralai, don't—" Isaaru didn't get to finish the sentence before Baralai silenced him with his mouth, but it didn't matter. Isaaru tossed his leg over Baralai's to hold him still as he worked him, thinking of his injuries. It would have been easy to move his own hips, but kept his hand and mind steady on Baralai.

"Isaaru—" His plea was quiet and warm against Isaaru's mouth, covered by fast breaths as Isaaru twisted his hand, and then Baralai was cresting, wet and warm, mumbling whispered words Isaaru couldn't make out. He could feel Baralai's heartbeat against his own chest, like a gentle, repetitive caress.

"Now you'll sleep," Isaaru said, breathless, as Baralai relaxed against him. He was pleased when Baralai didn't argue at all.

------------

Isaaru didn't sleep much the rest of the night, waking too often to do any good. Baralai didn't stir again, and when the first glow of sunrise surrounded the drapes on the bedroom window, Isaaru rose to dress.

The morning was still chilly. Isaaru wrapped himself in his inner robe before opening the door to the sitting room, intent on calling for a fire and breakfast before Baralai woke.

He started when he pulled open the door, and stared at his company, who rose from his seat in haste. Beyond him, a fire licked the air with bright flames, still too new to have given the room much warmth yet. A new food tray rested close to Baralai's serving table, and his head acolyte was standing in the room as if it was normal. Of course they had keys to the rooms.

"Good morning, Lord Isaaru."

Isaaru stepped cautiously into the room. It was odd to him now, that the connecting door had been closed—he had left it open. "Good morning, Tomas." The evidence, such as it was, Isaaru decided, was damning. His robe was spread across Baralai's sofa, and if Tomas had closed the door between the rooms—it would have been bright enough. The early morning light through the window was almost blinding.

The look on his face must have been terrible, because Tomas bowed, too fast to have felt comfortable. "Please don't be alarmed."

Isaaru sighed and walked closer to the fire, his feet and hands too cold. "I'm afraid alarm is all I have." He sat down in the chair closest to the fire. "Is there more medicine for Baralai?"

"Yes, sir." He paused, and Isaaru turned his gaze from the fire to look at him.

"You can say what you wish." Isaaru smiled, hoping he looked less shocked, but feeling as if the floor under him had fallen away. One acolyte and everything had changed.

Tomas shifted on his feet, a nervous dance, and what he said was surprising. "I am glad Praetor Baralai has you caring for him." His eyes darted toward the closed door. "He is?solitary. He's locked his door before, but told me that it was no problem if I needed to enter in the mornings. With his injury, I was concerned at your apparent absence when I knocked. I simply?"

"Were doing as you were told. We're in similar positions, of feeling caught where we're not sure we're meant to be." Isaaru leaned back, happy for the warmth of the fire. "Have you told anyone?"

"No, sir." Tomas's eyes went wide. "I would never do so."

"Oh, rumors, whispers—I know how they work." Isaaru laughed, relieved for no reason at all. Tomas could still tell anyone he wanted. "I was once in your position in the Kilika temple, seeing things, hearing the others gossip about what they had seen. I would just like to be prepared." He looked away, back toward the closed door. "It is in my interest to shield Baralai from what stresses I can."

"Your relationship is your own," Tomas said, "and you both have my confidence."

"Even if you must gossip, perhaps you can wait until Baralai has recovered?" Isaaru teased to remedy the stricken look on Tomas's face. He was rewarded after a moment with a smile.

"Of course." Tomas bent his waist again. "I'll leave you to your morning. The medicine is on the food tray, for when Praetor Baralai wakes."

He was gone before Isaaru could reply, and the turn of the lock behind him somehow made Isaaru feel a little more secure in the promise to keep their secret.

"Well, you handled that well." Isaaru twisted to see Baralai entering the room. "Wondered when it would happen."

"Thank you so much for the warning." Isaaru wished he had the heart for the sarcasm.

"Tomas knew I was seeing someone a month ago because of an extra glass on my table—he's very sharp. How many whispers have you heard about that?" Baralai took a seat on the couch. "You worry too much, Isaaru. He won't share what he saw, which was likely just me drooling on you."

Isaaru laughed, but moved past the subject. If Baralai didn't want him to worry, he would try his best to not. "Did you sleep well?"

Baralai nodded. "Yes, I did. Thank you." Isaaru pretended not to see the way his lips curved. It was too early in the morning for so much embarrassment. "Less blinding pain, more dull ache."

"Do you feel like eating?"

"Might as well, appetite or no." Baralai shrugged his good shoulder.

The breakfast Tomas had brought was simple fare, warm sweet rice and peeled fruits. They ate looking out over Bevelle as the city woke and Isaaru thought as he did every time he saw the view of this window in the morning, how beautiful their city was.

When he moved his eyes from the scene to the table, the look Baralai gave him made him nervous. "Baralai?"

"I like this," he said.

"The food?"

"Of course, the food." Baralai rolled his eyes. "I want you, here, in the mornings. I like you here with me."

"You said we should soften the rules, not stomp on them." Isaaru's throat was tight, and he smoothed the napkin on his lap.

"The only acolyte that visits me in the morning has seen you." Baralai sipped at his tea. "Your excuses grow thin." He cast his eyes down. "Unless you don't care to, and you only need to say."

"I think you're taking advantage of your injuries and my good nature," Isaaru hid his smile behind his cup. He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice, and even in the waning chill of the room, he felt warm.

"Oh, perhaps. I do mean it, Isaaru. I'm not joking." Baralai's confidence disappeared at the oddest times. "Will you?"

The silence between them was broken only by the crackle of the fire. Isaaru remembered the first time he had come to this room, nervous and still somewhat lost, and found a friend in Baralai—a friendship that had become a part of his life, that he didn't care to waste on worrying.

He sat his cup down on the table, but Baralai's smile was already spreading, like the new sun over their skin.

"Yes," Isaaru said, and he did so with no qualms. "Yes."

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