Sacred
by Shadowy Star
July 2006
Disclaimer: I don't own the Coldfire trilogy. It belongs to C.S. Friedman. I do own this story. Do not archive, translate or otherwise use it without permission.
A/N: Some things are sacred. Such things as love.
Didn't I tell you I just love first times?
Kind of alternate chapter to Legend Eleven from 'Collecting Legends', posted because I wanted both but funally decided L11 to be the regular chapter and rewrote this one a little, so now it's another post-trology fanfic.
He stood in the atrium of the Great Cathedral in Ganji-on-the-Cliffs, studying the famous, colorful ceiling pictures. They showed various scenes of the Prophet's life, and Gerald smiled slightly. Who would have thought, back then, at the end of the Revival, that a small navigators town on the most nasty part of northern coast would grow into the center of the Church? He'd followed his wish to know how and why that had happened and had traveled here. Wait, did he really say 'nasty'? Oh, he'd clearly spent too much time with Vryce! To channel the stubborn priest's vocabulary, oh yes, just great! At least he wasn't running around, swearing 'vulking Hell' or something most part of the day.
Gerald couldn't help but smile again at this thought but his mirth flew just the next moment. He had, after a long while, finally admitted to himself he missed the other man greatly. So maybe his reasons to be here weren't that simple. Maybe he'd hoped to meet Damien. Maybe it'd been a mistake to walk away from him back at the Black Ridge Pass. Not that the chances of meeting his friend here were that great. Oh, if only he could Work... Just one simple little Divining...
Pushing those thoughts firmly back into that deep corner of his mind where they'd come from, he stepped forward to have a better look at the painting. And froze in mid-movement as he spotted the only other visitor at this early hour.
Retreating back into pale shadows of early morning, he couldn't help but watch the lonely figure. Something seemed so familiar about it...
A man knelt before the altar, apparently praying silently. To judge by his shiny white armor, imprinted with glowing golden suns, and the inevitable collar of gold, he was a knight of the Order of the Golden Flame. Gerald smiled wryly. That new -and fashion since Andrys crusade against the Forest- ceremonial armor was definitely far from being practical. But decorative nonetheless.
The priest knelt on his right knee, his sword upright before him, his hands folded around its hilt, his head bent to touch his hands, dark shoulder-long hair obscuring his face. Well, Gerald didn't mean to disturb, familiar or not. After spending three years in a knight's company every other knight would of course remind him of Damien. Just as he took a few steps back into chilly half-shadows nearby the entrance, intending to turn and leave the Cathedral, he heard words, whispered with such sadness that it made his heart falter within his chest.
"For this one soul only, Lord One God of Earth and Erna," the man said. "For this one soul."
Then he rose, sheathing his sword with one fluid movement.
Geralds heart broke. He knew this voice, knew it by heart, had heard it full with anger and fury, with surprise and disbelief, with warmth and compassion. Damien, he thought.
He waited in shadows until the other man left the cathedral. The last thing he would do was run after him! Just to be sure he waited half a minute longer before a sudden realization struck him with the force of a giant brick. For this one soul, Damien had said... Could it be?
Oh, God, what have I done?
He didn't remember leaving the great building. Outside, the rising sun hit his eyes in an onslaught of white and brightness, obscuring his view. Blinking hard a few times to get his eyes adapted to the light, he looked around, searching for a white cloak. He spotted it to his left, the man already walking around a corner. He broke into a run.
"Vryce," he called.
No effect. If anything, the man speeded his step. Stubborn priest!
"Vryce," he called again, still running.
Nothing.
As Gerald finally caught up with him, he sprinted into his way, finally causing the other man to stop.
"Damien."
Damien did stop then.
"Would you please get out of the way," he said with a distant politeness that seemed strangely wrong, not looking at Gerald. "I have business to attend."
For a moment, Gerald stopped, not sure what to do. Hed expected Damien to be angry, even furious, not that cold, distant demeanor of a stranger. Wait a minute, he told himself. Thats exactly what Damien would think.
"Look at me," he demanded, fiercely.
The other man took a step aside, clearly intending to get past Gerald, but he'd foreseen that and moved at the same moment, still blocking Damien's way. They repeated that game for a few times before Damien finally seemed to give up.
"What do you want?" Finally, the other man looked at him. Those hazel brown eyes were pools of pure sadness, and Gerald swallowed hard against the tension in his throat as his heart shattered once again. The sudden wish to do something, to comfort the man, to make that sadness disappear, to make those beautiful warm eyes shine again, overcame him. Without thinking -or thinking clearly for the first time in months since the Forest burned- he reached out, cupping Damien's cheeks with his hands, pulling this handsome face down, covering those warm lips with his. For one second or two Damien didnt respond, his lips unmoving, and Gerald's heart froze with dread. What if Damien didn't love him? Then those lips moved, firmly taking possession of Gerald's own, and he almost melted in his other's arms. He felt Damien's tongue tasting his lips, demanding entrance, and he gave in willingly, sliding his own tongue into that delicious warmth of the other man's mouth.
He'd kissed a lot of women and some men in his first lifetime but never, never before had he experienced something that would even come close to this. Never before had he understand the meaning of 'bliss'. Until now. It was so new, and felt so right, to be this close to that person who meant so incredibly much, and had, from the very start. It felt so right ... as if they were destined for this, for this union, this connection, made in the face of the sun, not under a dark starless sky, made from and in love, not in fierce hatred... Sacred, holy even...
"Oh Damien," he breathed when they parted and he was able to say something coherent.
Drawing back, he steeled himself for being hit or pushed away. He didn't dare look into the other man's eyes. Anyway, he wasn't prepared for the reaction when it came.
Two strong arms grabbed him around his waist, pressing him against a broad chest with such force all the plains and angles of Damien's armor bit sharply into his flesh. A hand rose to the back of his neck, underneath his braid. The other hand went to his waist, pressing him even closer to his beloved. The strength in those arms was familiar but the despair wasn't. It was as if Damien was trying to fuse their bodies forever. That urgency struck a cord deep inside Gerald and he slid his own arms around Damien, fingers spread against the other mans back for maximum contact. Somehow, this was even more intimate than their kiss and still it wasnt close enough...
As suddenly as he'd initiated this, Damien broke it off.
"I'm sorry," he said bitterly, turning his gaze away. "I'm just not used to being kissed by strangers." Then, he turned around and started walking. Just so.
Gerald stared after him in incomprehension, then in disbelief. Stubborn priest!
He stopped him, once again sprinting in his way.
"What the Hell do you think are you doing?" Gerald hissed angrily.
Damien looked at him in surprise. "But you said..."
"I was wrong!" Gerald exclaimed, with conviction. And stilled then, understanding finally, and please, please, not belatedly. "I'm not a stranger," he said simply, a last truth left to him. "My name's Gerald da Silva. But didn't I tell you names don't matter? You know who I am. You know me."
Again, he looked up into Damien's deep, hazel brown eyes.
And at this sight, he smiled.
Those eyes were shining with their usual bright light now, last traces of sadness disappearing to nothing before that powerful light.
Gerald smiled even wider, and saw, finally, an answering smile upon his loves beautiful, beautiful lips.
FIN