Author's Notes: This kind of ends on a cliffhanger - that's normal, I was planning to have a second part. However, due to my current busy schedule, you might have to wait a long time for part two. Please bear with me, and thank you for your understanding.
This fanfic uses the original names, and some invented locations.
Rakorum = Lakutam
Riviere, Flamme Rouge: names of the weeks according to the Rieze Maxia calendar.
Samar: invented location; the former Long Dau capital, which currently serves as Gaius's headquarter in his campaign at the time this fic is set.
Wingul was not one to pay much attention to rumors. People loved to gossip, especially in calm times, and as there had not been any campaign or battle for over two months, the soldiers were getting restless and entertaining themselves as they could. Which included talking behind others' back, apparently. He himself had been the subject of many a conversation and the bits and pieces that made it back to him were often so outlandish that he had to marvel at their imagination. Where did they get the idea that he was afraid of cats, anyway? He had owned one as a pet when he was very young – a little ball of red fur he had named "Fluffy", but the creature's life had been short-lived and his mother had never offered him another. No, he thought, shaking his head, rumors were not worth listening to.
Yet...
There was one conversation he could not quite get out of his mind, one line his ears had caught when passing a group of his men during a visit to the garrison. They had just been back from Samar's famous pleasure district, and, having little interest in the subject, Wingul had been ready to tune their voices out, when the evocation of Gaius's name had stopped him in his tracks. He did not know what had compelled him to listen; morbid curiosity, perhaps. But as his feet had stopped moving and his ears had strained to catch the soldiers' words, a feeling of dread had crept up his chest, and he had anticipated that he would not like what he was about to hear.
As was almost always the case, his instincts had not been wrong. The soldiers, it turned out, had been complaining between themselves that their commander was always monopolizing the –in their words– hottest woman in the establishment. He could learn to share a bit, they'd said.
Livid, he had made it back to his private room in the palace in a record time and had spent the following night processing the information, unable to sleep.
He had known, of course, that the young commander had fallen to the allure of the city's most lively district at night, like many a man –or woman, even– in their army, when the Long Dau capital had become his. But that was more than two and a half years ago, and things between them had changed since. Over the span of a few years, his resentment had turned into respect and admiration, which in turn had brought a certain attraction to the older teen as he got to know him better and as his own body adapted to the changes of puberty. For reasons unfathomable, Gaius had seemed to reciprocate and ever since a stormy day of Riviere, of which Wingul still remembered every detail, where their lips had touched for the first time, they had grown accustomed to a certain level of physical intimacy. Had he been a fool to assume that Gaius would stop his nightly visits to the red quarters once he had opened his bed to him? In truth, they had never quite defined in words what it was that they were having. Besides, they had not even done much, if he had to be honest. Progress had been slow, mostly due to his own inexperience. That must have been frustrating to the other man, though he had never shown himself to be.
Could he really blame him? At times, he hated Gaius for sneaking behind his back. At times, he hated himself for this uncontrollable feeling of jealousy. And the rest of the time, he chastised himself for jumping to conclusions without having any proof.
For a while he tried to forget the whole conversation, but its memory would creep up without notice and he would start doubting himself all over again. This was the case one suffocating evening of the beginning of Flamme Rouge when, unable to concentrate on his writing because of the heat, he went to seek Gaius's company, only to find his presence lacking in the palace. A feeling of suspicion took hold of his mind, and before he knew it he was outside, walking through the busy streets of the capital with haste and trepidation, not even quite sure he had a plan. He was not accustomed to acting on impulse, but he felt in that moment that he did not care, and would leave the feelings of foolishness to deal with later. He had to be sure, if only for one evening.
He did not know how long he waited under the shade of a building's balcony, spying the comings and goings of Samar's most imposing brothel – the one he knew Gaius had frequented in the past. The street was truly lively, with shops and bars squeezed between the recreation houses, of which each seemed to advertise a particular theme or some other specialty. All of a sudden he recalled words his uncle Yan had spoken to his father once:
"Do not underestimate the pleasure girls, Brother. They are businesswomen before they are whores."
He could not remember the context of his uncle's warning, but he could see now that the establishments, for the most part self-run, held considerable power within the city. Only the Long Dau palace rivaled the building he was facing, his eyes fixed on its entrance, in size and in flaunting of riches.
The setting sun of the Rakorum spirit clime, of which Samar laid at the northernmost border, was casting its last burning rays over the red-painted building, giving it a surreal, powerful appearance. The color, the heat... They brought his thoughts back to Gaius, and all of a sudden he felt foolish for wasting his time there. What was he trying to accomplish?
Just as he was considering heading back to the palace, he caught sight of a familiar face exiting the door on which his eyes were strained. His heart sank in his chest. Gaius. So it was true, after all. But before he could do anything, the other man's eyes fell on him, and a startled expression showed on his face. He held his gaze for what felt like a long, agonizing moment, before he looked down and started moving. Away, away from this place, away from him.
"Wingul!", he heard him call from behind, but he did not look back.
