Laurence looked down at his hands. They were flecked with age, thin, grey and trembling. The world around him was just as grey. Devoid of colour. Lifeless. Snowflakes drifted down around him and a deep cold had gripped not only his aching joints but was clenching around his heart as well. Why was he aching?

His gaze wandered down to the hard frozen ground before his feet. A headstone stood there, small, insignificant and without much adornment. The simple polished marble covered with thin wisps of snow, displaying a name accusingly. A soldiers stone. He felt a rustle behind him, a hissing of steam, but he could not feel the usual heat the dragon emitted.

Her eyes rested on him, as accusing as the words carved into the stone. Her voice little more than a whisper. Never had Iskierka been able to speak so low. "He had waited for so long, but you did not come." Laurence fell to his knees, hands shaking violently.

He jerked awake covered in cold sweat. When he touched his cheek he was surprised to find it wet. Laurence gazed out of the window, the covert lay in darkness, dark shapes in the courtyard indicating were dragons slept the night away. He exhaled and looked down at his hands. Callus and scars just the way they used to be, but not the telltale signs of age. Just a dream. It could not have been so very late, he had excused himself early that evening and sleep did not last long.

With great care he dressed, neatly as ever and went down to the officers mass.

It was almost empty, just as expected. A rustling in the corner caught his attention. At a lone table a single figure was seated, a glass and half a bottle of wine in front of him. The man had seen Laurence and gestured to him, smiling weakly. "Will." - "John." A clipped exchange but not without warmth, not many words were needed.

Laurence took a glass and the place across from his friend. He poured himself some of the wine and refilled Granbys glass as well. When the dark haired man inquired as to why he was back and still awake he struggled with an explanation. So many things had been left unsaid in the past and maybe he should not share the subjects of his fitful sleep with him. Laurence looked up from his glass into dark eyes that regarded him with curiosity.

"Pray tell me Will, is something the matter?" His strange mood did not go unnoticed and Laurence found himself willing to answer this time, maybe with more honesty than he ever before had chanced around his friend.

"Bad dreams John. But it is fortunate I should meet you here. I'd like to talk, in private if you please?" He said, the words coming more easily than he would have imagined. They emptied the bottle in silence and Laurence offered to accompany Granby to his quarters.

When they stood before the door he hesitated. Granbys cheeks were flushed, he obviously had some more of the beverage than Laurence. Or maybe it was just the perpetual redness on his otherwise pale cheeks, a testament on his being an aviator. A hand on the handle of the door Granby waited patiently for Laurence to speak. His gaze was searching Williams face as if that alone would give away the reason for the hesitation his friend displayed.

Laurence cleared his throat. "If you do not mind I would like to come in." He said, indicating the small room, dominated by Granbys bed, a small desk and chair. The other captain nodded and beckoned him in.

"You know you can talk to me freely, right? God knows I've made a fool of myself in front of you often enough, so what can be the worst you have to tell me? Is it something to do with Temeraire?" Granby finally asked, when Laurence sitting on his chair without so much as a word kept staring at his own hands as if the answer to his questions were written in the lines of his palm.

"No, not Temeraire." Laurence said, his blue eyes seeking the dark ones still focussed on him. How to begin? How to explain? He tried. "In the past years we have travelled half the world, five continents, you have always been there, following me."

Granby nodded, sitting down at the edge of his bed. "I did and I would again."

"You risked your life, saving mine more than once." Laurence sighed and Granby smiled. "That's mutual then I guess."

"You lost your arm." - "And lived. I got Iskierka, friends, I would not want to change anything Will."

The former navy-man regarded his friend with an inquiring look. "Nothing?"

The aviator on the bed blushed, the red barely visible on his sunburnt cheeks. "I guess there are some things that are just too much to hope for, but I'm content."

"Well, I am not." Laurence stood abruptly, closing the distance between them with two steps. Granby who rose in surprise was met with his hand, softly touching his face, Laurences gaze silently asking permission, just for a second. A light stubble grazed Laurences callused fingers. Then soft lips were pressed to Granbys. The aviator closed his eyes, the kiss at first tentative and unexpected but he met it with fervour fueled by years of silent longing.

When finally they broke apart, catching their breath they still held each other in their arms. Neither was of a mind to let go, and Laurence spoke in a very low voice when he explained that he had really no idea how to go about these things and how uncomfortable he would normally feel under the circumstances, but since it was Granby and oh to hell. They kissed again, deeply and more passionately this time and when Granby asked if William would stay he said yes. No more nightmares plagued Laurence that night.