In Which Searle's Heart Flies on New Wings

January 18, 1175

Perhaps the master bedroom of someone else's castle wasn't the best place to seek refuge following a wedding, but it seemed to Searle to be the place where he was least likely to be disturbed. Most of the other guests were still finishing up their supper and the dancing would begin soon; it would be hours before Riona and her ladies returned here, and Searle wouldn't be missed for a while.

He'd been looking forward to this wedding, or so he'd thought. He'd always looked forward to weddings--or so he'd thought. Turned out he'd just looked forward sneaking off with Sparron while everyone else was preoccupied with the party. Now that it had occurred to him that that wasn't going to happen, it was difficult to appreciate anything else. It was even tough to be happy for his sister.

He wasn't sure why he'd felt the need to go off on his own. To fill the empty block of time, maybe. Or perhaps there had just been too much happy in the room for him to bear. Sparron had been seated at the other table, and Searle had noticed that he'd left some time before. Maybe he was doing the same thing.

Sparron. In the months since they'd parted ways he'd only seen him once or twice, and always at some event or another. They hadn't spoken. He'd wanted to, but he didn't know if Sparron would be willing to talk, or even how to begin if he was. By this point, he was an old hand at keeping up a brave face--but there was always that nagging insecurity, that crippling fear of breaking down. He didn't want to risk that at his sister's wedding.

A handle lifted and a door squeaked open. A cold surge shooting through him, Searle looked up, thinking up an excuse a second and each one dumber than the last--and if that hadn't been enough, it was the nursery door as opposed to the bedroom door. The nursery could only be accessed through this room; someone had been here the entire time.

"Searle?" He froze. It was the last voice he'd been expecting and the last person he'd wanted to see. Also, the only person he'd wanted to see. "Are you all right?"

God it was strange hearing those words coming from that mouth. Strange... but in its own ironic way, kind of nice. "I, uh... had a headache."

"You're not a very good liar, you know?" Sparron stepped away from the door and strode past Isidro and Riona's bed, then sat down on the empty side of the bench; in the depths of its melancholy cocoon, Searle's butterfly heart fluttered. "What are you doing up here?"

Searle tried to smirk, but the grimace was probably obvious. Oh well. "At least I wasn't in the nursery. Christ, Sparron, what were you doing in there? Even if you had children to check up on, they'd be upstairs."

"I know." Quieted, perhaps a little embarrassed, Sparron took a chance to tighten his belt. Jadin hadn't been lying when he'd said that Sparron had been looking thin these days, in spite of Searle's past hope that he'd been wrong. "I was just dropping off a present for Alya."

"What?" Of all the things he thought he'd known--but maybe it was good to know that predictable, rhythmic Sparron could surprise him.

"Just a little stuffed animal." He shrugged, as if it were nothing worth mentioning. Had it been anyone else, maybe it would've been. "I figured with the wedding and the baby on the way, Riona and Isidro have a lot on their plate and Alya might feel lost in the bustle. It's not much, but it might be good for a smile or two."

Well. That was... huh. "That's very thoughtful of you."

Awkward, Sparron turned away. "Guess I was due for it."

Had he implied that? His flitting heart grew heavy and drooped to the back of its chrysalis. "I didn't mean--"

"No, you're right." A lock of sandy hair flopped back over his shoulder. Searle longed to touch it, but the foot between them was suddenly a mile. "I'm not a nice person. Everyone knows that."

Searle tried not to squirm. When Sparron had put an end to things, he'd promised himself he'd quit acting like a lovesick puppy, but he couldn't--no more than a tree could just stop being a tree. All he wanted to do was reach for Sparron's hand, or rest his head on that shoulder he'd always coveted for a pillow. "You're being nice to me."

Sparron sniffed. "Now, perhaps. Actually, no--I haven't even asked you what's wrong yet, have I?"

He had--just not in those words. But Sparron was a precise, literal sort. Maybe he had meant something slightly different. "It's all right. I don't want to talk about it anyway."

His head cocked to one side, Sparron stared at him, a baffled look on his face. Searle could understand. It was strange for the both of them--Sparron being open and willing to lend an ear and Searle having nothing to say. "You're sure?"

He nodded. "I'm sure."

A little hesitant, Sparron gave him a quick pat on the shoulder--then, as if surprised by his own daring, he turned away and rose to his feet. "I'll just let you be, then."

"Sparron."

He paused. "Mmm?"

He didn't look back, but perhaps that was for the better. This way, Searle could pretend that Sparron was grinning as widely as he was, in spite of the fact that he almost certainly wasn't. "I miss you."

The seconds dragged on. The wings of Searle's heart burst forth from their confines, beating faster and faster--either that or time slowed to a crawl. It must have been nearly a minute before Sparron allowed himself to move. "I should go."

The words were all it took to jerk Searle's fluttering heart to a sudden halt. The air around him cool as it fell to an early grave. "I... all right."

Sparron gave a quick grunt of agreement and took a couple steps. But then, he stopped again, unprompted this time--or at least as far as Searle could tell. "Searle?"

It was hard to answer with a dead heart, but he did not think he could bear to give Sparron any less. "Yes?"

Sparron's fingers twitched as he kept a focus on some undefinable point in front of him. He breathed like a man who'd resigned himself to drowning. "Are we friends?"

Searle stood, something flailing about within his core. Maybe it was his heart. Maybe Sparron hadn't killed it after all.

"I'm always your friend."

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