A/N: New story! My first and pretty much only fanfic in Ms. Lackey's world. Inspired by "Stony Tor" from Songs from Vanyel's Time the CD. Not brilliant music but the imagery was great. Please enjoy.
~Shadow
Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron stretched out his sore shoulders and back as he walked down the hallway, wincing as something cracked.
"Stef's going to start charging me; the numbers of times I've asked him for a massage this week…" he trailed off to himself before shaking his head. Stef was so patient with him, he wondered how he deserved it; the younger man was at least as tired as Van himself, running near constant attendance on Randale while keeping the meetings organized, making sure everyone ate, and gods knew what else, yet he still had the presence of mind to make sure that Van was keeping up and not overworking himself into a coma again.
People always thought he was the amazing one but the entire court would probably fall apart without Stef.
Reaching his door, sighing at the pervasive quiet around him that never really left, Van knocked lightly even though it was his room before entering; he'd forgotten once, forgotten that Stef would be waiting for him, and had just walked in, scaring the redhead so badly he'd spilled (another) glass of wine all over the floor and nearly given him a heart attack, or so he'd said.
"Stef?" Van asked, peering into the dimly lit room; the fireplace was the only source of light and it was just barely still burning. Quiet music originating from the direction of the bed continued for a second longer before tripping to a halt, but not before Van recognized the tune.
"Why are you playing that piece of dribble?" Van asked good-naturedly, kicking off his boots and crawling onto the bed next to the Bard, who was holding his lute and smiling quietly. Van debated the possibility of sitting as Stef was, propped against the wall, and decided against it when his back complained at just the thought; instead, he laid his head down in Stef's lap, sighing contentedly.
Stef absently starting running his hand soothingly through Van's white-streaked black hair.
"It has a good tune, and the fingerings are intricate enough to keep me occupied. That's not the first time you've belittled that song, ashke; why do you dislike it so much?" Stef asked curiously. Van sighed.
"I understand artistic license, Stef, trust me; I used to think about trying to write songs myself before life got… like this," he said evasively, not for the first time trying to hide how much he was struggling to keep up with all his duties.
It was a pointless exercise; Stef knew he was lying, felt it through the bond that tied them irrevocably together, but he never called Van on it. What he did do was squeeze Van's hand gently, letting the mage know he was there for him, always. Van pressed back, appreciative of the support. "But that song is so far from the truth, it's laughable."
"So you didn't face down Lord Nedren, his mage, and forty soldiers on the top of Stony Tor while protecting a nameless bunch of refugees, from Hardorn no less? And you didn't turn those demons back on the Karsites despite the fact that you should feasibly have had no command over them? And you didn't fry that aforementioned mage to a cinder and kill Lord Nedren using those same demons, all while wounded and about to bleed to death?"
Stef meant to be joking but there was an underlying edge of fear and indignation in his voice he couldn't quite hide.
Van sighed and rolled his head so he could meet Stef's eyes.
"All that's true, Stef, but it's all in the little details, you know that. It sounds so much more heroic than it actually was…" His eyes unfocused for a moment, reliving the day that had precipitated the song. Stef squeezed his hand again, breaking him out of it; Van smiled.
"And it wasn't forty men, there were only twenty; Nedren was an arrogant bastard, he would never have thought he needed more protection than that. Always so confident he could talk his way out of trouble, and it that didn't work, there was always the other way."
"Kill them, you mean?" Stef asked, a little disturbed.
Van nodded matter-of-factly; Stef shivered at this obvious display of cynicism. "Why are we talking about this? It's not the most pleasant of topics," Van said lightly, trying to change the subject. Stef looked troubled for a moment, debating something hard enough that Van could feel his indecision.
"Stef?"
"Would you… Would you tell me story, the real one behind that song?" he asked quietly, eyes on his hands in his lap. Van raised his eyebrows in surprise and maneuvered until he was under Stef's gaze again, those brilliant green eyes meeting his own silver ones reluctantly.
"Why do you want to know, ashke? I'll tell you but it's not a happy story. Why ask now?"
"I've seen the scars," Stef said, "touched them," running his hand down the largest one on Van's chest, "kissed them," he leaned forward and murmured against Van's lips. He smiled briefly, feeling Van's heartbeat speed up under his hand.
"I want to know you, lover; even now, I feel like there's still so much you haven't told me, don't want to share with me." And he couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice when he said those words that had been running around in his head for nearly a month. Van's eyes widened and he sat up.
"Stef, I…" he began, then stopped, obviously caught by surprise. He frowned, his entire face twisted in concern.
"It's okay, Van," Stef said hurriedly, obviously regretting he'd said anything. "Don't worry about it, I shouldn't have brought it up…"
Van turned away and Stef's heart dropped until he saw that Van was only making himself comfortable on the bed, bracing himself up on the ridiculously large pillows they both preferred.
"Come here," he ordered, opening his arms. Stef went willingly, curling up against Van's side, his head pillowed on his shoulder. Van closed his arms securely around the impossibly thinner man, holding him almost too tightly.
"You've been thinking about that for a while, haven't you?" the mage asked. "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling that way?" Van's voice was concerned and confused all at once. Stef smiled wearily; Vanyel was smart, almost brilliant, the most powerful man in the nation, possibly the world, and yet he was so confused by emotions, both his own and by others. Stef just didn't get it.
"Have you taken a look at our lives lately? When would we have had time for a conversation like this?" the Bard replied with a measure of amusement.
"True," Van whispered, regretful. "Stef, I'm sorry I'm so busy all the time, you can't be happy with this…"
Stef tilted his head and pulled Van's face down to meet his, effectively cutting off his self-inflicted guilt trip. Van met his eyes almost timidly when Stef released him; the Bard gazed back steadily. "I knew what I was getting into when all this begin. Your duty comes above everything else, even me; somehow you Heralds all reached that same conclusion along the way, you're famous for it. I won't deny that I'm jealous sometimes, Van, but I never regret being with you."
"I don't deserve you," Van murmured back, smiling that smile that Stef loved to see, the one Stef couldn't help but return.
"On the contrary, Van, you deserve every bit of the good things that come to you," Stef replied, almost sleepily.
"Do you want to go to sleep?" Van asked gently. "The story can wait till later." Stef roused himself immediately, shaking his head.
"You keep changing the topic, it's hard to stay focused," he accused.
Van laughed quietly. "As you wish, then." He sobered and Stef could practically feel him gathering his thoughts into order. When he began, his voice was soft, low, and rhythmical, like the cadences of a storyteller. But Van was, technically, a Bard; he would know how to tell stories.
"'Fandes and I were returning from a border patrol. Six months out trying to prevent anyone getting killed in raids, inter-family fights, protecting people for the Pelagirs creatures… We were just worn out and ready for a break, overdue for one, actually. It's a common theme for me," he smiled wryly before continuing.
"We were headed back to Haven when I heard the Call, nothing specific, just a cry for help. I don't know if we even made a conscious decision to go, all the sudden 'Fandes was just running straight toward it, as fast as she's ever gone."
"When we reached that hill… It was like a nightmare." Van laughed humorlessly and Stef knew what he was thinking: just one more nightmare in a long list of them.
"Men and women, some carrying their children, some just fleeing, nearly all of them screaming… There wasn't even time for pleasantries like in the song, we didn't even exchange one word; the demons were already there, almost at their heels. We tried to get around them, to put ourselves between them and the demons, but we weren't quite fast enough. One of the women, she was straggling because she wouldn't let go of her belongings…"
Van shook his head, eyes far away and reliving the horror of that day. "The demon got to her before we could; I got it off as soon as I was close enough, but she was already gone."
Stef winced again at the distance in Vanyel's voice. How much did you have to see before death lost its surprise? That's what he heard in Vanyel's voice right then and it scared him a little.
"Van, wait, sorry. It's just… you sound so distant, like this is just another history lesson," Stef said. "How are you so… objective about this?" And in that question, Van heard what he was supposed to: "How can you be so calm?"
"It was a long time ago, love. I've seen more of the world's horrors since then, it just became one among many." Van's voice sound old and tired.
"I know what you're thinking. I don't mean to sound cold about this; someone died, I know that, I should be horrified. But I've seen so much, done too much… If I thought about all of them, about their families, the lives they might have had, what they might have felt as they died, I'd go insane. I can't afford that. Valdemar can't afford that. This is just my way of coping. I'm sorry it scares you; it's not something I ever wanted you to have to think about. But you know I'd never hurt you, right?" He asked that last almost desperately, needing to be reassured; Stef gave that to him willingly.
"I know that, lover, don't trouble yourself with such a thought." Stef smiled up at him encouragingly. "You are a good man, ashke. I know you, and I know you'd never kill if there was another choice; I'm not sure I'd be here if you were any different, lifebond or no."
"There are times when I feel like that's all I am, just a weapon, a killing machine; I've taken so many lives, destroyed so many more…" Van's soft anguished whisper reached Stef's ears and the young Bard sat up, feeling his heart hurt in response to Van's pain and realizing that it went deeper than he'd thought.
It was his turn to gather the older man into his arms, holding him securely as Van clung to him, on the verge of crying; it was just a marker of how much this hurt him. Van almost never cried, a leftover from when they were younger and he had those ice-dreams…
"All right, lover, it's all right," Stef whispered, brushing off the stray thought carelessly in favor of comforting the mage in front of him. He knew better than to bring stuff like this up, gods damn it all! Curse his stubborn curiosity anyway, he thought. What was that saying, curiosity killed the cat, wasn't it? Only, in this case, Van was the cat and being punished for Stef's indiscretions.
"It's all right, Van. I love you, you know that, right? I'll always love you, just like I told you before. I think that's enough talking for one night; I'm sorry I brought this up," Stef apologized, pressing his lips to the top of Vanyel's head.
"Let's go to bed, hmm? I'm sure I can think of a way to chase away any more bad dreams you might have," the Bard said seductively, trying to distract the distraught mage. But Van pulled away, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.
"No, it's all right, Stef, you wanted to hear. I can finish," Van said but Stef shook his head firmly.
"Not a chance. You need sleep, I need sleep, we both need to relax… I know just how to go about doing that, too," Stef whispered, straddling Van's hips and murmuring against his lips.
"We'll finish the story later if and when you feel up to it." And Stef proceeded to distract Vanyel so thoroughly he didn't have a choice but to comply.