Forsyth was stumped. Ever since the last battle, Python had completely refused to talk with him.

Without fail, when Python would catch a glimpse of Forsyth, he'd bolt on sight. Forsyth had tried to approach more stealthily, but it always seemed Python was one step ahead of him. And when he wasn't, Forsyth was too damn slow to catch Python.

As far as Forsyth was aware, nothing strange had happened in the last battle to irritate Python. Perhaps Forsyth had said something wrong, and Python was upset. Forsyth wasn't quite sure, but he wanted to make amends regardless.

This is why Forsyth chose to tell all that happened to Silque.

"That is…certainly troubling," Silque said, her expression one of concern. "What shall you do?"

"My idea is to bake a pie, to apologize for whatever I did to anger Python this badly. I deeply value our friendship." Forsyth could have sworn he heard her giggle when he said that, but chose to ignore it.

"Hm… Well, it sounds like you know what your course of action is. Why exactly are you telling me all of this? This isn't a sin you need to confess – not if you don't know what you did wrong."

"Alas, I…do not know how to cook. I was wondering if you could be of aid."

"Oh," Silque said slowly. "And you think I can help because I'm a woman?"

Forsyth scoffed. "Of course not! You are a woman of Mila - surely you know how to bake confectionaries. Women of the cloth are known for their offerings to the Mother."

"Forsyth," Silque said, "said offerings are made for the Mother, and only the Mother. They are not made for mortal tongues. I am certain she enjoys them, but I doubt Python would like to eat one."

"Oh. I…was not aware."

Silque smiled pleasantly. "But I do happen to be a wonderful cook…or, at the least, have been told so. I'd love to help you."

Forsyth beamed. "Excellent! Your assistance is much appreciated."

"Then we should see if this village has an oven, no?"

"Then, you set the pie in the oven, and…there we are!" Silque beamed, turning to Forsyth. "Now we just wait."

"Excellent!" Forsyth beamed. "For how long?"

"About an hour, but we have to watch and make sure the pie doesn't burn."

"Err…" Forsyth frowned. "We have to sit here and watch it?"

Silque nodded, pulling up two chairs. She sat on one, and pointed to the other. "If you would."

Forsyth reluctantly did so, smiling politely.

The two sat silently. Silque played with the strands of her hair. Forsyth broke the silence.

"Do you have friends, Silque? Personally, I don't have any aside from Python."

"Me? Well, I…" She paused. "No, I suppose not. That is, unless you're offering."

Forsyth smiled. "I am. From now on, consider us so."

Silque began to giggle.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Oh, for no reason of import," she said. "I only love how enthusiastic you are about everything. It's very endearing."

"Oh." He turned to the oven.

"Why would you say you've never had any friends aside from Python, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I can't say that I've had the opportunity, really. The only one that's always been there for me is Python. But I suppose I can share those feelings of friendship with another. Those…strange, strange feelings."

Silque stopped laughing. "Strange feelings?'"

"Well, I'm sure you know. The strange feelings one feels around friends."

"'Funny feelings'… Oh! You mean how your stomach turns whenever they're near, or the urge you feel to be around them as much as possible. Or, perhaps, you mean the knowledge that you'd sacrifice your life for them if they were ever in danger, without a second thought, or that you simply wish to hold them tight, never letting go?"

Forsyth nodded feverishly and broke out into a grin. "Yes, yes! That is precisely the type of friendship Python and I share! Silque, you understand friendship marvelously!"

Silque broke out into a grin, and she clasped her hands together. "Forsyth," she said gently, "that was not normal friendship I just described. In fact, it wasn't friendship at all."

All the color drained from Forsyth's face. "If what you described was not friendship…then what was it?"

"Love," said Silque softly. "I think you're in love with him."

"Love? Ha!" Forsyth tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a choking noise. "W-why on earth would I… Python is a man! I am a man! Well, I suppose we certainly could, but… You see, he's not…"

Silque smiled at Python, tilting her head inquisitively. "Yes?"

"You… I…" He stood up. "I need to leave at once to find Python." He exited the room quickly.

Silque started counting down. "Ten…nine…eight…seven…"

"I just remembered that I can't find Python!" Forsyth shouted, storming back. "Give me the pie, and I shall lure him here!"

"The pie isn't going to be ready for at least another half-hour," Silque said, looking at the oven. "Sorry."

"Then I implore you to give it to me when you're ready, as I won't be subjected to this…this trickery, or…err… You're not going to let me have the pie if I leave you, are you?"

Silque nodded slowly.

Forsyth groaned, walking over to Silque and slumping back in the chair. "Why would you do this to me? I only wished to coax Python to talk with me! I didn't want any of this to happen!"

"I only do this because I know that he feels the same, and I wish for you to realize it," Silque said gently.

Forsyth's head shot up. "Pardon?"

"As a cleric, I treat wounds. And any wound that was life-injuring would be something to note, would it not?"

"Naturally," said Forsyth. "But I'm not certain what this has to do with Python, unless…" Forsyth's eyes widened. "Gods, tell me he wasn't injured!"

"I'm afraid he was," said Silque. "He took an arrow to the shoulder and is still recovering."

"WHAT?!" Forsyth cried. "Gods, why in the world would he do such a thing?! Python… I'll lecture him about being careful if it takes me all day!"

"Now, now…" said Silque. "He had a perfectly good reason for it."

"What reason could he POSSIBLY have to take an arrow to the shoulder?! Is he secretly a masochist?"

"I don't think so," Silque said, frowning. "Regardless, he said he took it for you, Forsyth."

Forsyth's skin turned pale. "For me?"

Silque nodded. "As I heard it, you two were near one another, and he spotted a sniper with a nocked bow. You wouldn't have reacted in time, and he was out of arrows himself, so…"

"Python injured himself...to protect me?"

"Yes. His injuries matched up with his story. My guess? If that arrow had hit you instead of he, you would not be sitting here today." She smiled sadly. "Forsyth, I think he saved your life."

"That damned fool…" Forsyth breathed. "He sacrificed his own damn life to protect mine? I'll yell his ear off!"

Silque laughed lightly, the sound like tinkling bells. "And I'm certain that's why he made me promise not to tell you. But look at me now, breaking that to repair his friendship. Ah, what a poor holy woman I am, eh?"

"He made you promise not to…" Forsyth trailed off, and he clenched his fist. "PYTHON!"

"My guess is this is precisely why he's avoiding you," said Silque. "I imagine he didn't want to cause you unnecessary anguish. If I were you, I'd forgive and forget. It's what the Mother would want."

Forsyth paused. "I…suppose I could try, at least."

"And you could tell him how you feel when you give him this pie," Silque said, smiling pleadingly.

Forsyth stared at her.

"Too soon?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

"I suppose let's just work on repairing the friendship, then." She put on the pair of oven mitts lying on the nearby table, taking the pie out of the hearth and laying it on the table. The scent was overwhelming, and Forsyth had to catch himself from drooling a little.

"This DOES smell delightful," Silque said, inhaling the scent of the freshly-baked delicacy. "I do hope he loves cherry."

"Oh, he most certainly does," said Forsyth. "Will you do me the honor of cutting a slice?"

Silque brandished a knife, and the glint in her eye made Forsyth wished he'd offered to do it in her stead.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said.

"Silque?" asked Python, knocking on the kitchen door. "Silque, you in here? A wagging tongue told me you were makin' pie and sharing it, so naturally I couldn't resist asking for a slice."

"Come in!" Silque called. "The door is unlocked!"

No sooner had Python entered that he spotted Forsyth, and his eyes widened. He turned to face the door rapidly.

Silque stood in front of the door, blocking his path.

Python looked to Forsyth, who looked furious. He looked to Silque, who smiled pleasantly at him. Python himself stood frozen in place, like a deer in front of a loaded bow.

"Hello, Python," said Forsyth, walking forward and carrying a plate with a slice of pie. "Would you care for some pie?"

"I've changed my mind. I don't want it anymore," said Python. He turned to Silque. "Let me out!"

"Not until you talk to him," said Silque. "Now go – tell Forsyth what you did. Tell him of your noble sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?" Python cried. "What sacrifice? Forsyth, she's speaking gobbledygook – ignore her!"

"Oh, I don't believe that to be the case." Forsyth set the slice of pie on the table, staring at Python. "Eat it, Python." He slammed a fork down on the table. "Here's a fork."

"I'm not hungry, and I don't wanna. Now let me leave."

"Eat a bite first," Forsyth said much too pleasantly. "Then we can discuss the terms for your release."

Python laughed hollowly. "What am I, a captive? Fine. I'll eat your damned pie – but I won't enjoy it."

"That's fine. Just eat it."

Python sat down at the table. He stared at Forsyth, who nodded.

"Well?" Forsyth asked. "Go on."

"I shall." Python slowly began lowering his face directly onto the pie. Before his mouth hit the crust, Forsyth spoke.

"With the fork," he said.

"Fine," said Python, and he reached for the fork with his left hand.

"With your dominant hand, if you'd please."

Python glared at Forsyth, but instead reached with his right. He gripped the fork, raising it, and as he raised his hand and shoulder upwards, he cried out in pain.

"Augh!" he cried, dropping the fork on the table. "Dammit, that hurts!"

"Ah-HAH!" Forsyth cried. "I knew it! You've injured your shoulder!"

"Fine, then! I hurt my shoulder!" cried Python. "But that doesn't mean a damned thing!"

Forsyth stared at him, his glare fierce; Python instantly melted.

"Damn you!" he cried. "Fine! In the last battle, I dove in front of you so you wouldn't get hit by that stinking arrow. Are you happy?"

"Oh, Python," said Forsyth. He shook his head solemnly. "I am happy. I only wish you would have told me sooner." He then reached down and grappled Python into a bear hug.

Python screamed, his right shoulder rippling with pain. "Stop, stop!" he cried. "Gods! Stop, you big green buffoon!"

"Oh! Right." Forsyth released him. "I apologize; I got eager."

"CLEARLY!" Python said, sighing. "Listen, pal, I just didn't want you to worry about me. That's why I didn't want you to know. Whenever you worry, it always stresses you out, which stresses ME out. It's a cycle of stress and needless fretting, and I wanted to avoid it." He shot a glare at Silque. "But it seems like I couldn't even do that, huh?"

"This was his idea," Silque said. "I only helped."

"Ugh…" Python moaned. "Well, whatever. I suppose now that my secret's out, you're going to talk my ear off, huh?"

Forsyth shook his head. "I just did that. But don't you worry, Python - I'll find other ways to discipline you."

"Heh. You gonna have fun with that, big shot?"

"Of course I will," said Forsyth, cracking a smile. "And are you going to try and avoid responsibilities and slack off?"

Python grinned. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't, eh?"

"Now," said Forsyth, grabbing two plates, "were we not going to eat some pie?"

"Only if that cleric is eating with us," Python said. "I don't want you talking my ear off the moment she leaves. Also, I'm going to wager it's her pie, 'cause it doesn't smell like manure."

"Hey!"

"It's true, innit?"

"Of course it is! But there was no need to be so brazen about it."

Python laughed, and Forsyth grinned.

Silque brandished the knife, cutting two more slices and placing them on plates on the table. She also brought out two more forks.

"To friends, new and old," Python said, raising his fork in the air. "To friendship!"

"To friendship!"

"To friendship!"

"And to whatever else lies ahead," Forsyth added quietly.

"What was that, pal?" Python asked. "You say something?"

"Oh, nothing."

Python shrugged and went back to eating his pie.

Forsyth smiled.

Author's Note: This was done at the request of Yayster/BackForBreakfast. I was doing some requests, and she really likes these two, and...well, it was SUPPOSED to be a drabble, but…

Anyway, this is my first M/M fic. Oftentimes, I feel like people are making the relationship up, but…Python and Forsyth? Well, Forsyth marries a woman if Python dies, but not if Python doesn't. I think that hints that his relationship with Forsyth is more than meets the eye.

Or I'm just reading too much into it, I dunno. Regardless, leave any critique in the comments.