Title: Eternal
Author: Herald-MageAnduli
Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance
Main Characters: Vanyel, Stefen :)
Secondary Characters: Medren, Jisa, Savil, Starwind, Moondance, Brightstar, Arven & Lord Withern Ashkevron
Summary: AU Sometimes the greatest loss occurs when you're least expecting it. This is not a happy story so… TISSUE ALERT! If you like happy endings this one is probably not for you.
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The old part of the Palace was quiet. Anybody sane had gone to bed long before now, it wasn't too long before today would become tomorrow. The figure walking down the hall would have said that he'd never been sane, so why start now? He carried a leather case in his hand and the presence of a music case and his scarlet tunic proclaimed him to be a Master Bard.
Wearily he opened a door and entered the small, spacious quarters beyond. He let go of the gittern case when his hand was over a chair and the instrument slid out of his hands to touch the padded chair. It continued to slide and hit the ground with a discordant twang despite the Bard's annoyed curse. He snatched up the case and set it firmly on the chair as if scolding the instrument.
He placed one thin hand on the back of the chair and removed his boots, padding barefoot into the kitchen. He snagged a couple plates and two mugs, pouring a dark-colored liquid into both. Onto each plate went a chunk of dark, moist bread and a small round of white cheese.
He walked out of the kitchen and placed the food on a low table with two chairs near a fireplace. He added a couple logs to the fire and briskly stroked it to roaring life with a metal poker. He put the poker back and disappeared into the single bedroom to change into something more comfortable.
Just as he was leaving the bedroom he wondered where his lover was. The moment he finished the thought the door opened again, admitting a tall, slender Herald-Mage. Black hair was in a war with silver and silver was winning. His pale skin glowed in the firelight as he balanced on one foot and repeated the procedure of removing his boots, colored off-white.
Stefen chuckled softly, amused. It never failed, all he had to do was wonder where Vanyel was and his lifebonded would appear from somewhere. It was as if the Herald was reading his mind. He knew Van wouldn't actually do that, not only would it be unethical but his lover respected his privacy. Vanyel looked up and between the combination of a familiar laugh and the gittern sitting on a chair knew who was there before silver eyes met hazel.
"When did you get back?"
"Just before you did," Stef muttered, dropping into one of the wooden chairs with a soft groan.
"Long day?" his lover asked, smiling.
"Very. Randale's getting worse, not even the Healers can pain-block it alone. It didn't help that I got annoyed with Shavri. Had Jisa not intervened, we might have said some things that couldn't have been forgiven. Your daughter's a blessing, a level-headed blessing."
"I wonder how she holds up, considering how Randi's doing and what Shavri did. Even Andrel can't figure how she's staying so calm."
"Savil thinks that Taver and Eren are boosting her stamina and helping her cope," Stefen answered, taking a bite of cheese.
Vanyel considered him for a moment before he said, "The Court session ended four hours ago. Did you stay afterwards?"
"No. I've been playing for Savil, helping her with pain and the loss of Kilchas and Lissandra."
Vanyel's face tightened, silver eyes hardening with rage. Stefen had seen that expression on his face far too often lately. First Kilchas and then Lissandra had died under seemingly normal circumstances. Then Van had reinforced his aunt's wards for her and she'd barely survived an attack by a magical creature, something Vanyel called a construct.
The only reason why Vanyel had not set off North to blast the dark mage who was responsible to the Nine Hells was Savil. Vanyel's formidable Aunt had talked him into waiting until she was well enough to travel. Now the Herald-Mage spent his days interacting with the Court and trying to organize a defense for Valdemar's northern Border.
The Herald smiled at him after a second, forcing himself to relax. He passed Stef and changed as well before sinking into the chair across from Stefen and taking a large gulp of mulled wine. After eating Stefen felt halfway normal as he stood, picking up the plates and putting them in the kitchen. He refilled the mugs as Vanyel moved to the small couch in front of the fire. The Herald was drowsing in the heat as he sat down next to him, leaning his head on a firm shoulder.
Van ran one finger along his cheek and his hand froze in the middle of the action. The touch felt icy as Vanyel said, "Gods, Stef. You're burning up. I should get Andy," and started to stand.
Stef put a hand on his lover's shoulder and pulled him back with gentle firmness as he said, "No, ashke. Andrel has enough on his mind tonight. He uses all his energy helping Savil. Let him rest. I'm fine, considering the fact that we're sitting in front of a fire that's blasting heat from here to Rethwellan."
Vanyel still didn't look convinced and Stef sighed before saying, "Look love, if it will help you relax I'll let him look at me tomorrow."
His lifebonded locked silver eyes on him and looked searchingly into his face. He nodded once and leaned back, growling into Stef's ear, "Do it ke'chara. Don't just say it."
"Bards can't lie," Stef mumbled, attempting not to flinch as Vanyel's cold fingers encircled his waist.
"They are clever with words," Vanyel retorted, kissing his temple.
"So are Herald-Mages," Stef retorted, prompting a laugh from Vanyel.
*
"You are so stubborn, ke'chara," Vanyel said with a sigh, looking at the beautiful face leaning on his shoulder. Gods, I got lucky when I lifebonded to the most determined young man in all of Haven.
:Yes you did. You need him more than you wanted to admit.: Yfandes said in the back of his head. He chuckled out loud and Stef muttered,
"What's so funny?"
"'Fandes decided to put her opinion in on what I was thinking about," he answered, still smiling.
"Might I enquire what that thought was?" Stef said, looking at him.
"How lucky I am to have you," Van answered, voice just above a whisper.
Stef lifted his head, leaned forward and kissed Vanyel on the lips, a tender smile on his face as he pulled back. "I think you got that backwards, Van-ashke. I'm the lucky one here. You're Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron, you could have anyone. I'm a Bard and a child off the streets of Haven."
"All the same, I consider myself very lucky you were so determined. I was being so stupid, locking myself back into the ice-dream of my childhood."
"I told you that you wouldn't have to be alone anymore, ashke," Stef mumbled.
Vanyel froze.
"If you go, I'll have no choice but the ice."
Beautiful warm brown eyes smiling at him, "I won't leave you alone, ashke. You'll never have to touch the ice again."
"What is it, ashke?"
"Nothing," Vanyel said, forcing himself to breathe. "You just about mirrored something 'Lendel told me years ago. It was just a surprise to hear it coming from you."
"S'rry," Stef sighed, barely coherent. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"Don't apologize, Stef," Vanyel mumbled, almost asleep himself, "you wouldn't have known that."
* * *
The next morning Stef struggled to wake, rubbing his pounding head. The headache he felt was comparable to the one he'd gotten after drinking Withern's Ashkevron pear wine a couple nights ago. He had been surprised to receive an invitation at all, Withern's prejudices against shay'a'chern were well-known. The man barely tolerated it in his own son.
He pushed himself upright in bed, noting the absence of Vanyel's presence a few seconds later. The Herald-Mage woke absurdly early, busy from before dawn until after dusk. For a moment Stefen was annoyed, couldn't the Heralds do without Vanyel until a decent hour? Then he felt ashamed, knowing how much the throne and Haven needed his lover and his abilities.
As he put his feet on the floor he gasped, all thoughts of Vanyel pushed from his mind. It was freezing! His whole body was composed of shivers. The shivers were compounded by aches as he stood up, looking for his clothes. He dressed warmly, doubling his layers of clothing. After wolfing a quick breakfast he picked up the gittern and pushed out of their rooms, headed for the Audience Hall.
"Bard Stefen," Shavri's greeting was somewhat stiff. Stefen sighed to himself, regretting his sharp words from last night. Being tired wasn't an excuse for snapping at the King's Own Herald.
He removed the gittern and began carefully tuning the twelve metal strings. As he did so he wondered where Medren was and what the Journeyman Bard was doing right now. He smiled as he thought of Vanyel's nephew, thanking his lucky stars he'd been tossed in with him when he'd arrived at Bardic.
He sank into a musical trance, playing for what seemed like days but was really only a couple hours. He came to a halt when Jisa approached him and smiled as she said, "It was a short day today. Father didn't have much to deal with outside of a conference."
They both knew she meant Randale when she spoke about her father in public. Jisa's reaction when he'd told her that he knew who her real father was had been entertaining. Vanyel's sable-haired daughter was as stubborn and hot-headed as her blood-father sometimes, but for the most part she was diplomatic and polite to a fault.
It was early afternoon now and Stefen groaned as he remembered his promise to Vanyel from the previous evening. He said to Jisa, "Where would I find Andrel at this time of day?"
"In his office in the Healers' Collegium. He teaches one afternoon class in a couple hours."
"Thanks."
Stef stood up and put away the gittern, a slow process at the best of times. It took a great deal of patience to tune the instrument but he didn't want to break the strings or damage the pegs by leaving it tuned during transport.
He walked down to the Healer's Collegium, through the gardens into Healer Andrel's office. The older man sat at a desk, looking over a couple papers. He looked up when he heard Stefen and smiled at the young Bard.
"Hello Stefen. I wanted to thank you for what you did by playing for Savil last night. I know it helped her a great deal."
"Anything for Vanyel's aunt I will gladly do. She's a wonderful woman."
"Yes she is," Andrel agreed, standing up. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, as you know I live with a Herald-Mage who tends to worry and he seems to think that you should take a look at me. Personally, I don't see why. It's just a fever and some aches from this weather."
"Vanyel does have a lot on his mind," Andrel said. "Why don't you sit and let me check you out anyways, since you're here?"
Stef sat down and closed his eyes as the Healer touched his forehead. He heard him hiss and breathed in deeply, concentrating on staying as still as possible. When the Healer exited his trance Stefen was shocked to see Andrel's hand shake.
"What have you drank since returning from Ashkevron Manor?"
Stefen frowned at the odd question and said, "A glass of wine a couple days ago, water, a few glasses of mulled wine last night. Why?"
"The wine last night, do you know where it came from?"
"Yes. Vanyel and I keep some up in our quarters. It came from the kitchens of the Palace."
"The other wine you drank, was it familiar to you?"
"No, I hadn't tried that variety before," Stefen looked up into Andrel's worried eyes and said softly, "Why are you asking me this?"
"You've been poisoned, Stefen."
"What?" Stef rasped.
"The fever and aches are the first stages of the poison. Stefen, I hate to tell you this, but the poison you've been given is a concoction made with Death Angel mushrooms. It's the only poison in all of Valdemar that doesn't have a cure."
"How long do I have?"
"Four, five days at the most," Andrel whispered.
"What can I expect?"
"The fever will be replaced by chills. Soon it will start pulling your strength. You'll get to a point where you couldn't stand even if you wanted. Rapid weight loss, eventual blindness. Your body will shut down after a certain amount of time, the poison overwhelms it."
"Thank you, Andrel. Don't tell anybody about this, please."
"Do you know who poisoned you?"
"Yes," Stefen breathed.
He stood up, ignoring Andrel's concerned expression. Slowly he walked out of the office, heading for their rooms. He set down the gittern, slumping into a chair. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, grief and despair fighting within him. Grief won and he cried, curling up in the chair as his body was wracked with tears.
He stood up and changed out of his Scarlets into a green tunic and beige pants. As he came out of the bedroom he noted the fruit bowl on the table. It was filled with yellow and green pears, picked at the height of perfection.
"How ironic," he whispered morbidly. He wondered if Withern had arranged for the fruit to be delivered here.
Slowly he walked down to Companion's field, swinging over the fence and walking down to the river. He sat down in the lush grass by the bank, laying back and staring at the perfect, cloudless sky. He was lost in his thoughts when a voice said softly in his head, :What is troubling you, Bard?:
It was warm and feminine, coming from everywhere and nowhere. He turned his head and saw Yfandes standing a few paces away from him. Vanyel's Companion stepped over to him, dropping her nose next to his cheek.
:You can tell me what's wrong, Stefen. If it helps you can talk out loud, otherwise just think it.:
You don't mind? Stefen thought at her.
:Why should I?: her mind-voice was puzzled. :You're my Chosen's lifebonded, you're entitled to speak with me. Besides that Stefen, I like you a great deal. My Chosen loves you very much and it makes me glad to see him happy.:
Stefen's throat choked with tears when she said that. He was hit with the unfairness of it all and he thought Life is so unfair, Yfandes. Vanyel's been left alone once, I don't want to do that to him again!
:Why would you be leaving my Chosen, Stefen?:
I've been poisoned, Yfandes. It's Black Angel mushrooms. There's no cure.
:Who would poison you? I can't think of who would— No! HE did this to you?: She was incensed.
"Yes," Stef whispered out loud, trembling with a mixture of fear, grief and anger. I don't want to die, Yfandes. I'm afraid; for Vanyel, for myself.
:Nobody wants to take that last Walk before their time, Stefen. I know you're not meant to die so young. This makes me angry, Bard. I can't believe that Vanyel's own father would do this to him, or to you.: Yfandes snorted, pawing the ground.
Don't tell Van, Stef pleaded with her. Please, don't. If he finds out who did this to me he has to find out on his own. I'm afraid of what he'll do.
:You are wise, Bard Stefen. I won't say a word to Vanyel about Withern. However, if you don't tell him you're going to die, I will. How long do you have?:
Four or five days. Yfandes, I'm afraid for him. I don't know how he's going to react when I—when I'm gone.
:I won't lie to you, Stefen. You're his lifebonded and he loves you more than anything in this world. He's going to feel very alone.:
Stefen moaned softly and sat up, chest heaving with suppressed emotion. Yfandes pressed her head into his shoulder and he stood, leaning on her as he let the full impact of his grief and pain wash over him. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, leaning into her warmth as he wept. All he knew was that when he finished his throat felt as dry as a stick and his head hurt.
:You'd better head inside. Andrel is waiting at your quarters with Vanyel. He's going to give you something for the pain. He's also going to tell Vanyel what's wrong with you.:
"Thank you for listening to me, Yfandes."
:You're welcome, Stefen. It helps to have someone to talk to sometimes.:
He started walking out of the Field, headed for their rooms.
* * *
Vanyel was startled to see Andrel standing near the doorway to his and Stefen's rooms. What surprised him the most was the weariness and pain in the Healer's expression. Gods, Stefen's right. He's using up everything he has helping Savil.
"May I come inside, Vanyel?"
"Of course, Andy. You know you're always welcome here. I owe you my life several times over."
For some reason the expression of pain deepened when he said that and he frowned, tempted to reach out and see what was causing the Healer so much hurt. He restrained from doing so and instead opened the door, ushering the older man inside. He retrieved two glasses of wine and handed one to Andrel, who gladly took it and drank a large portion.
The Healer took out a small bottle just a little larger than their mugs and put it on the table. It was filled with an amber-colored liquid thick enough that it barely sloshed as he set it down. He set a small glass next to it and said, "That's for Stefen. One glass every twelve hours. It's a very potent mix."
"I knew something was wrong with him. That stubborn Bard, he was convinced that it was just the heat from the fire making him feverish," Vanyel snorted.
"I wish that was it," Andrel whispered.
Vanyel noted his expression and the pain in his voice and set his glass down, attempting and failing to conceal shaking hands. He considered the bottle of liquid and said, "What is that concoction?"
"A very strong painkiller mixed with a nutrient powder and a half-dram of argonel."
"Argonel?" Vanyel yelped. "That stuff kills, Andy! Why are you giving him that?"
"In small doses it controls pain and blocks dreams, Vanyel."
"Andrel," Vanyel said slowly.
"What is it, Vanyel?"
"What would be wrong with Stef that you'd need to give him argonel?" Vanyel asked, throat tightening.
"He hasn't told you?"
"I haven't seen him since last night when I told him to go to you."
"I'm going to put this bluntly, Vanyel. Stefen's been poisoned by a mixture that included Black Angel mushrooms. It's the only poison in all of Valdemar that we can't Heal. He's going to die in four or five days."
Vanyel went stiff. He could feel all the color fading from his already pale face but he ignored it. He closed his silver eyes and reached out to his Companion. :'Fandes, did you know about this?:
:Stefen came out earlier this afternoon. He was afraid to tell you.:
:Why?:
:He feels guilty. He doesn't want to be the one to leave you alone again. He loves you very much, Chosen.:
"Wh—" Vanyel's throat choked on him and he cleared it before trying again. "What's going to happen to him?"
"He's going to waste away. The fever will be replaced by chills and his body will steadily lose weight no matter how much he eats. He'll lose strength as well until he can't stand on his own and can barely move. Eventually he'll go blind as his body starts to shut down."
Vanyel turned his face away from Andrel as he said, "Thank you for telling me, Andrel."
Andrel cleared his throat and said, "I'm going to do my best to make sure he isn't in any pain Vanyel."
Vanyel didn't answer. He listened as Andrel backed up his chair and stood, felt the Healer touch his shoulder as he passed by. When Vanyel heard the door open and shut, he released the soft moan of distress he'd been concealing. A single, shimmering tear made its way down his cheek as Yfandes said :I'm so sorry, Chosen.:
:Who would poison Stef?: When she remained silent, :You know, don't you?:
:Yes.:
:Who was it?:
:Stefen asked me not to tell you. He says that if you find out it has to be on your own.:
The door opened again behind him. He did nothing as the door shut and someone hesitated and walked in his direction. He lifted his head when an overly warm hand was placed on one of his shoulders and a voice whispered, "Vanyel?"
He looked right into his lover's eyes and saw everything the Bard was feeling. Stef's hazel eyes were filled with an unsteady confusion of shock, grief, pain and fear. He stood in one smooth motion and wrapped his arms around the slender, frail body. He could tell Stefen was about to say something and he bent his head until his lips nearly touched the Bard's ear and said, "I know, ke'chara. Andrel told me."
"Thank the gods for that," Stef whispered, trembling in Vanyel's embrace. "I wasn't sure I was going to be able to tell you that I—"
"That you're dying?" Vanyel completed, voice shaking with tears. "I almost wish that—"
"Don't," Stef murmured hoarsely. "Don't even think that, ashke. I might not have been poisoned had I never met or loved you, but it wouldn't have been worth it. I would rather have this lifetime with you than live to be the oldest person in Valdemar alone."
He sealed that promise with a kiss, one that contained a trembling urgency.
* * *
Two days later a young man in the rusty tunic of a Journeyman Bard stood against one wall of the Audience Hall, looking at the sea of faces. He had already made his greeting to Randale and Shavri and was now looking for a familiar face he hadn't seen in a while. As he scanned the sea of faces he pushed brown hair out of brown eyes. He was a slender version of his father, one with a great deal more common sense according to his uncle.
Medren spotted Stefen finally, sitting just down the hall tuning his twelve-string gittern. The young man looked a little pale as he concentrated on the instrument. Medren grinned and moved toward him, chuckling as he considered the young Bard.
A great deal of Medren's other friends couldn't understand why he liked the younger boy. Not only was he two years younger and a full Bard, he was also shay'a'chern, which was considered something to politely ignore amongst the Court. The one time one of his other acquaintances had protested Stefen's quick advancement in front of Medren he had decked him. They did not mention the nastier rumor in front of him, the one that suggested Stefen had slept his way to the full rank.
Even if they had Medren would have laughed it off and told them they were being stupid. Medren knew his friend had a sense of honor about his extracurricular activities and would be horrified at the very idea. It did not help Stefen's case with the others that he was as slight and delicate as a young girl with a shapely face and deep hazel eyes.
Medren wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest with his friend being shay'a'chern, not with his proud uncle being one as well. Medren admired his uncle Vanyel, more than the Herald-Mage knew. The older man's dignified grace and kind nature coupled with a strict code of ethics and more power than five Heralds combined was a perfect role-model to the young throughout Valdemar. The fact that his uncle was lifebonded to his friend made it hard to stay nervous around either one as well, even though his uncle was almost twice Stef's age.
He sat next to his friend and said, "Hey, you."
Stefen spun toward him, just about falling off the chair. The hazel eyes had gone wide with surprise as he said, "Medren! Havens, it's good to see you but don't do that again!"
Medren steadied his friend with a laugh and said, "I promise. You're a little jumpy, aren't you?"
"When you're sitting somewhere concentrating on something I'll come up behind you and we'll see who's jumpy and who isn't!"
Medren laughed again, grinning at his friend. He kept the smile in place even as he looked at his friend and started to worry. His face was paler than usual and he was shivering even though the Hall was kept very warm for the King. His hands shook as he picked up the gittern again and finished tuning it, fingers shaking.
"Are you okay, Stef? You look a little pale."
"Why don't you come by our quarters this afternoon? I know Vanyel would be happy to see you and I want to hear about your travel to Lineas-Baires."
"Sounds like a date," Medren said happily. "I would be glad to come; I haven't seen Vanyel since I recommended your Wild Talent as a treatment for Randale."
Stef's eyes sparkled and he said, "Look how that ended up. I can't wait to see you then but for now I have to use that Talent of mine."
Medren stood up and was halfway back across the hall when he realized Stef hadn't answered his question. He shook his head and chuckled at the quick evasion tactic.
* * *
When Medren walked into his uncle's quarters later that afternoon, he saw that he wasn't the only one there tonight. Aunt Lissa had claimed a chair from the table, sitting with her head leaning on the back of the chair. Great-Aunt Savil sat on a couch next to Andrel. Sitting at her feet was Jisa, with Treven leaning against the leg of Lissa's chair. Vanyel and Stef had claimed the other couch near the fire, with a large single chair left over.
He removed his shoes and made his way to the other chair, flopping into it with a sigh. As he stretched and rolled his shoulders Stef stood up and asked, "What would you like for a drink? We have mulled wine, water and a delicious red wine from Sweetsprings."
"The mulled wine is my favorite poison, maybe it will help ward off the chill. Tonight is going to be bitterly cold," Medren answered, noting with worry Stef's flinch at his words.
"I'll let you sweeten it. I know you put more in than most people could stand," Stef set the mug next to him and let him pour a decent amount of spices and sugar into the cup. He saw his uncle's eyebrow lift at the amount of sugar and the Herald-Mage said,
"My gods Medren, how do you sleep at night after drinking all that?"
"It doesn't bother me in the least. I crash once I hit my bedroom door. A huge lightning storm came through Highjourne while I was there and I didn't stir in the slightest. Tashir couldn't believe it; he said the whole place was shaking with the thunder."
"How is Tashir? I haven't seen him since Randi had me settle the whole mess the year Tashir was Chosen," Vanyel looked interested in his reply.
"He's doing fine. You heard he married right? He's got two kids, seven and four. The girl's likely to be Chosen according to Lores. She seems to have a strong latent talent for Empathy."
"That could be interesting," Savil put in. "Is she the eldest?"
"Yes."
"It could be a good thing if she's Chosen," Vanyel put in, "but it would be hard for a person in a ruling seat to have an Empathy Gift. People could take advantage of that."
Medren grimaced. "I hadn't thought of that." He laughed as he added, "The boy's a little whirlwind, causes more trouble than you and Lissa put together according to Jervis."
"Oh my," Lissa laughed. "I can just imagine him. Vanyel and I were little terrors on our own; both of us put together caused no end of chaos."
"How come I'm not surprised," Stef mumbled dryly, looking at Vanyel.
"Hey!" Vanyel objected, frowning at his lover. "I was a perfect angel, thank you very much."
"Maybe your disguise was an angel," Liss muttered, earning a scowl from her older brother. "You were a little scamp underneath and that's Treesa's opinion, not mine."
Since everyone was laughing Vanyel settled for a look of injured pride and took a large drink of his red wine. Medren muffled his laugh by taking a drink as well, enjoying the light mood and his friends and family.
*
Vanyel smiled into his glass of wine, the laughter was like music to his ears. Stef seemed to have warmed up leaning against his shoulder. He caught Andrel's glance just as Andrel said, "Stefen, what time have you been taking that concoction at?"
"About nine, usually," the Bard looked at the clock and grumbled.
"Lissa, would you mind pouring some of that liquid next to you into that little glass and handing it over?"
"Not at all," Lissa said, turning to the squat bottle with the pain-killing mixture. She picked it up and poured it into the shot glass from the kitchens.
She handed it to Stefen, who eyed the glass with annoyance before downing the potion with a single gulp and a shudder. Vanyel took the little glass from him and stood, walking over to the table. He corked the small bottle and set it on the counter closest to the table. He turned back to Stefen and laughed at the expression on his lover's face.
"It doesn't taste that bad," he teased as he sat down again, placing one arm around his lifebonded's shoulders.
"You try it," Stef retorted before taking a drink from his glass of wine.
"No thank you," Vanyel answered hastily, to his lover's grin of amusement. "From what Andrel told me that's a potent mix, it might not be a good idea."
"What would you know about that mixture?" Savil asked Andrel.
"I don't know Savil," he said to his lifebonded with cheerful good humor, "I only created the concoction for him."
"Stefen," Medren said softly to his friend, "why would you have to take something that a Healer mixed up for you?"
"I—"
Vanyel could feel his lover trembling, could sense the indecision in his thoughts. Gently he wrapped one arm around the Bard's waist, attempting to calm him and give him strength. He looked up and caught Savil's eyes, her gaze bored into his for a moment and she flinched. He could feel the tension and worry in the room with his faint empathy and whispered in Stefen's ear, "Tell them Stef. They all care a great deal about you. I'm right here."
"I've been poisoned. I'm going to die soon," Stef whispered with his gaze slanted toward the floor.
Liss gasped and said, "Why can't the Healers help you?"
"It included Black Angel mushrooms, Liss," Vanyel stated.
"How long do you have?" Savil asked Stef.
"Two, three days," Andrel replied from next to her.
"Do you know who?" Medren asked, hands shaking.
"I have my suspicion, but I'd never be able to prove it," Stefen said.
*
Savil watched the young Bard as he leaned against Vanyel. She was shocked beyond belief. She considered her nephew as she thought angrily, Hasn't Vanyel suffered enough for the gods? For Valdemar? Who in all the hells would poison his lifebonded? Her face paled as she considered the Herald-Mage, watching him as he gently stroked the Bard's cheekbone.
Andrel looked at her and thought, :What is it, love?:
:Losing Stef is going to kill Vanyel. He barely survived losing 'Lendel and they only knew each other for a few weeks. He's been lifebonded to Stefen for more than three months.:
:Yfandes says he'll survive,: Kellan put in.
Savil considered her Companion's words as she said, :How does she know? Vanyel's been through a great deal, but this is going to hurt him.:
:How did I know to Choose you?: Kellanretorted. :The Companions just know. She says he'll survive but he'll be completely lost and in a great deal of pain.:
Vanyel's silver eyes suddenly tightened in rage as he thought of something. He looked down into Stef's eyes and snarled, "Withern."
Stefen flinched. That was enough for the Herald-Mage. "Withern poisoned him," Vanyel snapped, looking at Savil. "A couple days ago he invited Stef and I to talk with him about something. It wasn't very important but we ended up staying for a while. He got out three glasses of that pear wine. I wondered why he bothered to get it out; he keeps that for important guests. Now I know why, it's one of the only wines in Haven Stef's never tried before. He wouldn't know the difference in the taste."
Savil looked away from her nephew's enraged eyes and asked Stefen, "Do you remember what the pear wine tasted like?"
"Thick, I remember being surprised at how heavy it was. The fruit was muted, foggy almost. It was also very slick and oily."
"That's enough for me," Savil snorted in distaste. "The pear wine is what Ashkevron Manor is famous for besides the horses. It's a light wine, very delicate and fruity. Definitely not what you described."
Savil looked at her nephew. He caught her gaze with cold silver eyes and she heard his voice in her head. It was tight with a burning fury and hurt. :My own father, Savil. He poisoned my lifebonded, did it with a smile even. I remember wondering why he was so friendly to Stef, not only is he shay'a'chern but he's also a Bard and you know how Withern hates Bards.:
Savil was surprised to see a frightened look in Stef's eyes as he looked at the Herald-Mage. It was well hidden behind sincere grief and pain, but to an experienced Herald the undertones were all too plain.
:He is frightened of what my Chosen will do. I am uncertain of what he is thinking, my Chosen is good at blocking people from his mind when he wishes to be alone.: Yfandes warm voice echoed in Savil's head.
Savil's mouth tightened with worry. If Vanyel was blocking his Companion he was thinking some very un-Heraldic thoughts. She considered him and prepared to speak. Oh gods, if he's anything like 'Lendel I'm going to be vibrating like a harp string again in a few minutes.
*
Medren considered his uncle, nervous in the Herald's presence for the first time in years. He had never seen him this angry; it was almost thick enough to breathe. The expressive eyes had gone hard and cold and his lips were pinched in fury. The long, slender fingers were clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles from pale to white.
He turned his head and looked at his great-Aunt, noting her straightened posture. She looked nervous as she said, "Vanyel, I don't know what you're thinking but if you're blocking Yfandes it can't be anything good."
The only answer she received was a harsh, bitter laugh. Medren saw Stef flinch and itched to yell at his uncle. He opened his mouth and spoke before he could stop himself. "Uncle Van, you need to calm down please."
When the Herald locked angry silver eyes on him he swallowed and said softly, "I'm asking both as your nephew and a friend of your lifebonded. You're making Stef nervous."
The Herald-Mage looked down at his lover, noting the fear hidden behind other emotions. For a moment the whole room remained oppressive and tense, then Vanyel let go of the breath he'd been holding with a hiss and forced himself to relax.
Savil slumped in relief and said, "Tomorrow we'll deal with Withern. And we'll do it the official way."
She sighed in answer to a mental statement and said, "I know, Vanyel. I'd love to join you on that but it's not only against Havens' laws, it's unacceptable to Herald ethics."
They all remained a little while longer to talk and drink, then Lissa stood, apologizing that she needed to get up early for drills. Andrel levered himself upright, supporting Savil as they both said goodbye. Jisa and Treven nimbly got up from the floor and left after promising to speak in the morning.
When Medren was the only one left he stood and walked over to Stefen, putting a hand on his friends' shoulder. When the younger man looked up he smiled and said, "See you tomorrow, Stef."
Stefen smiled wearily and nodded.
His uncle looked at him for a moment and then stood, hugging the young Bard. "Thank you, Medren. I would've lost myself to anger if not for you."
"You're welcome. Just don't make me do that again anytime soon. It's not pleasant to interrupt a Herald-Mage when he's thinking."
Vanyel chuckled softly and said, "I promise I won't. See you tomorrow."
Medren walked out, making it all the way to his quarters before the shock hit him. He sat down, looking at a sketch one of his fellow Journeymen had made of him and Stef sitting on a window ledge studying some boring text. He looked at the sparkle so realistically conveyed in his best friend's eye and lay back on his bed before he was overwhelmed with grief and pain.
*
It was late in the evening. He lay very still, listening to his lover's slow breathing. With a blank gaze he considered the fire, watching it illuminate the ceiling and cast heavy shadows throughout the room. The heat made him drowsy and he wished he could fall asleep. He was exhausted enough and yet he couldn't sleep.
Vanyel slowly turned his head and looked at Stef; the Bard's pale face and the labored breath. That was why he didn't sleep, he was afraid if he did Stef wouldn't be there when he woke. It was a morbid thought but all too possible now, thanks to his father.
Vanyel's lip curled in a silent snarl of rage as he thought of Withern. The man hadn't ruined his life enough already. He had to take from Vanyel the only thing that made this life of his worth living. Because of his father he was going to lose his lifebonded, the source of love and joy in his life. Withern will pay tomorrow, Vanyel promised himself, he'll pay for everything.
The Herald felt a sudden chill run down his spine as he considered something else. Because of his father he was going to be alone again. For a moment panic filled him as his breath came in shallow gasps. He forced himself to take a deeper breath and relax, letting go of his fear and the fury he could feel building in his mind.
As he considered the evening he remembered his disbelief when Medren had told him he'd been making his love nervous. He'd looked into Stef's eyes and seen not nerves but fear. Had he been standing it would have made him take a step back in shock. Fear was the one emotion he'd never seen in Stef's eyes before. Then 'Fandes had popped into his head and told him that Stef was afraid of what he'd do, not of him.
A soft murmur caused Vanyel to focus his attention on Stefen again just as the Bard's deep hazel eyes flickered open. His eyes came to rest on Vanyel and a beautiful smile crossed his lips. "Why are you still awake, Van-ashke?"
The affectionate nickname caused Vanyel's breath to catch as he said, "I'm afraid to, ke'chara. I don't know if you'll be here when I wake."
"I will be, I promise. I have it on very good authority that I'll be able to say goodbye," the soft voice was accompanied by a melancholy smile.
"You need to rest, ashke. I'll be here in the morning," Stef murmured, almost asleep again.
Vanyel sighed and rested his head on Stef's chest, listening to the firm, steady heartbeat. He closed his eyes and drifted off to the crackle of the flames and the soft breathing of his lover.
* * *