After a second knock, Vanyel hesitated in front of the door. He could hear strands of music floating out faintly from behind the thick oak barrier, random chords indicating practice rather than composition. He's in there, but I hate to barge in, he thought, then: as close as we've become, I'm sure he wouldn't mind.

He opened the door without further deliberation—after all, Stefen was needed at Council in a few moments. A surprise performance, but I know he understands how much we need him. Besides… I doubt he would refuse me. A twinge of remorse mixed with embarrassment flooded through him at that last; Stefen was certainly more than infatuated with him, which was… an interesting situation. I can't deny that having him be so accommodating to all Randi's needs might be in part due to his "crush—" he sighed inwardly—which, of course, makes me a bit guilty, although in a war of conscience, Valdemar will always win. He shied away from further exploration of the topic, notably his own reaction to Stefen's advances—attraction, and far more than he should feel for a boy the same age as his daughter.

Stefen looked up in surprise when he entered, hand paused over a final chord. Vanyel felt his own eyes widen in mirrored surprise: Stefen was shirtless and in hose, his young, slender torso lit by the faint candlelight. Blushing, he coughed, once, and looked away. "I'm sorry to disturb you," he began stiffly, trying to regain composure. I want to run my hands up and down that body—a vision of Stefen pressed against him, mouth desperately seeking his own, flashed through his mind. Struggling to repress his thoughts, and a potentially embarrassing reaction, he counted to ten mentally.

Stefen smiled, put the gittern aside and stood up to stretch, his clothing—or lack thereof—leaving very little to the imagination. Slender, but not skinny, with just the right amount of muscle, skin smooth as milk… Vanyel willed Stefen to stop moving, for his breeches were becoming uncomfortably tight. The worst part is, he would if I wanted! In fact, the Bard seemed to be noticing his reaction, and took a step closer. His smile widening, he asked huskily, "Did you want something, Herald Vanyel?"

Would it really hurt so much to just give in for once? I'm fairly certain he is shaych—I wasn't at first, but now I can certainly tell. He's young, but mature… his eyes seemed to be drawn to lower on Stefen's body against his will, the hose barely a shiver of fabric against the Bard's—stop it, Van! He gave himself a mental slap and met the Bard's hazel eyes. Lovely eyes, too. "I—ah—yes. There's an emergency Council meeting and the King's presence is essential. I was hoping you might have a spare moment to help him."

"Of course," Stefen replied softly. "I was only practicing; I have no other commitments tonight." He paused and let his gaze travel down Vanyel's body with a slight quirk of an eyebrow. "I am in a bit of a state of undress, though, as you can see. Give me a moment to put some clothes on."

Vanyel's flush reddened and he nodded a bit curtly. "I'll wait outside." I'm positive he could tell I was aroused—which will only fuel this ridiculous infatuation. He ignored the disappointed look on Stefen's face and shut the door behind him, hoping a breath of fresh air would cool his desire. It didn't. The images continued to flood his mind, snapshots of him and Stefen in various erotic poses.

:Van…: Yfandes Mindspoke him tentatively. :Maybe you feel this way for a reason.:

:'Fandes, now is not the time.:

:I mean, how long has it been since you've felt so attracted to somebody?: She continued relentlessly. :And I know you can't stop thinking about Stefen. Are you sure there isn't more there?:

:Does it matter?: He asked after a moment. :Not only is he a mere teenager, he's throwing himself at an idea!: Shaking his head, he Mindspoke with a hint of bleakness :The reality is a far different matter: a man too busy to truly care for anybody and too heartsore to truly love again.:

Yfandes was silent for a long pause. :Still… you can't be celibate the rest of your life, Van! You're not even forty.:

He didn't reply. She was right, in a sense; he'd been without human touch far too long and his body ached at the mere idea of touching Stefen. Perhaps he should take a lover… but the last time was such a disaster. I felt absolutely nothing and the moment of pleasure was certainly not worth the feeling of being used for my title. Besides, he was exhausted most of the time. Entertaining a stranger was not high on his list of pleasurable activities. And as for sleeping with colleagues—that's the worst idea of all.

A creak of the door caused him to turn as Stefen exited, resplendent in full Scarlets. "I'm dressed," Stefen said with a smile.

"I noticed," Vanyel replied dryly, well aware that Stefen was still attempting to cultivate the tension from earlier. "Let's go. Business awaits us."

Stefen sighed. "I thought you might say something depressing like that."

"That's me, old and depressing," Vanyel replied bluntly, turning the corner to the Throne Room hallway. "Might as well start getting used to it."

Rolling his eyes, Stefen fell into step beside him. "I think I already am."