-
Title: Observational
Rating: K+ . Because I took a wild guess.
Pairings: RathWil with mentioned HectorLyn.
Word Count: 1119
Warnings: Boy-love.
Summary: Wil thinks a little too hard, and Rath decides to say a few of his priceless words.
Opening Notes: I don't think the first half matches the second half very well. I don't think I portray Rath very well at all. Eek.
Disclaimer: I claim nothing that's not mine to claim.
-
He's incredible.

The silent warrior, formidable on his mount with, now, both bow and sword. The quiet stranger, something of a mystery for everyone to wonder about, had they the time to wonder. The noble nomad, the one for everyone to respect and trust even if he doesn't accept that respect and trust. He's simply incredible.

At least, Wil thought so.

He's beautiful.

Covered in sweat and blood, rather beat up, and wearing an inhumanly emotionless expression. He was still beautiful. With a smudge of dirt on his cheek, a too worn outfit, and an uncharacteristically mess of hair. He was still beautiful. Drawing his uninjured arm back, barely leaning back with the rest of his body, and flinging the dart straight towards the center of the target. He was abso-fucking-lutely beautiful.

At least, Wil thought so.

Wil thought a lot of things about Rath, actually. He thought the Sacaen was attractive, intelligent, powerful, handsome, charming, and just perfectly perfect. He thought the Sacaen was a fairy tale prince or an adventure's dashing hero. He thought the Sacaen was the most noble, loyal, honorable, and trustworthy protector anyone could hope for.

He thought Rath was in love with Lyn. So he kept his other thoughts to himself.

Each time the group found a few hours' time to spare for rest in a proper inn, Wil stuck himself to Rath like a little bur while everyone else scampered away to do whatever it is they did in their rare spare time. Wil chatted about everything and anything, keeping his mouth busy so he could stay near Rath and not say things he'd rather not say. Wil, though he'd never thought it, found Rath to be fond of darts, and he had taken to sitting nearby with his head resting on his arms like a lovesick puppy with the nomad indulged in that fondness. He'd be silent for a while, satisfied with watching the man he'd happened to love. Watch him be beautiful and amazing.

He thought he was fine with unrequited love.

It wasn't rare that he would still be sitting there with a 'silly expression', as described by Serra, painted on his face for a good hour after Rath had gone to spend time elsewhere. Wil never actually knew, when his daydreams took a turn for the day-mare type, his 'silly expression' could become so heart-wrenchingly painful that any passerby would think his world was ending. Wil never actually knew, when his daydreams took a turn for the day-mare type, that Rath would sit with him for a good while though always leaving before he returned to reality.

Wil never actually knew he wasn't fine with unrequited love. He thought, Rath could handle it. He could handle it. Wil never actually knew Rath was never fine with unrequited love.

"Lyndis may be marrying into House Ostia, but she will not forget her people of Caelin. Do not look so distressed. It doesn't suit you."

Lord Hector and Lady Lyndis had announced their engagement a week previous.

The newly-promoted sniper peered up at the promoted-a-while-ago nomad trooper, just barely catching his words. Rath's words always meant something. Everyone listened when he spoke. That didn't necessarily mean everyone understood what he said. Wil had to think for a good solid three minutes before he understood the words. By then, Rath had taken to the empty seat directly across the battered wooden table from Wil.

It was then that Wil realized when most people were spoken to, they were expected to speak back. Especially him. "Thanks, Rath! I know Lyn won't forget her responsibilities, or anything like that." He plastered on a big, ridiculously fake, smile. "I'm not 'distressed', either. But if you think I am, I'll try to be happier!"

"Lying doesn't suit you either," was the immediate response he got for his efforts. "I know you lie when you make less sense than you usually do," came the answer to his unspoken question.

Wil opened and closed his mouth several times before he came up with the halfway decent reply, "First of all, that's creepy! Like you can read my mind, or something. Second of all…sorry? I think. Or something. I'll be happy now!"

"It's about Rebecca?"

For once, Rath seemed at a loss of what to say. At that, Wil was at a loss of what to say.

Rebecca, his best friend. Rath said it like something happened to her. Yet Wil could see her clear across the tavern in near-perfect condition with Florina and Sain. Then the question remained, what about Rebecca?

Wil thought Rath was in love with Lyn.

Rath thought Wil was in love with Rebecca.

The possibility occurred to him all too suddenly, resulting in his quickly blurting out, "I'mnotinlovewithRebeccaatallifthat'swhatyouthink!" He repeated himself, slowly. "I'm not in love with Rebecca at all…if that's what you think." Though he said those words, those words exactly, his faced burned up as if he had said, "I love you."

"Lying still doesn't suit you."

"I'm not lying! I'm in love with someone else! I've been in love with someone else for a while! Don't tell me you haven't noticed! I stare at you all the time, everyday!"

Good job, Wil. Good job. That was slick of you, replacing 'you' with 'someone else'. So then why was Rath looking the tiniest bit shocked?

Oh.

He would have fled to the confines of his room, wouldn't have thought twice about locking his unfortunate roommate out. He would have fled to Lady Lyndis and requested to return to Caelin where he'd hide until the whole stupid thing blows over. He would have fled to Nergal and just screamed, "Kill me now!" He would have fled anywhere, just to get away from here.

Unfortunately, he was quite immobilized, pinned to the spot, in his own shock from a gaze that said, 'I love you, too,' and a familiar voice that said, "I stare at you, too." Wil was sent into a record-breaking silence of seven minutes, record-breaking for while he was wide awake and conscious.

He was truly fine with unrequited love. Because it wasn't happening to him.

Seven record-breaking minutes after Rath's almost silent confession, Wil very nearly smothers him to death with a blood-stopping crushing hug and very nearly blinds him with a ridiculously bright smile. Rath retaliates calmly with the prying off of Wil, letting him drop to the ground before dragging him back up into their first sweet kiss.

Of course everyone was staring by now. Of course everyone was too drunk to care. One slightly less drunk observer might observe that love was an incredibly beautiful thing.

Just like Rath to Wil.

Just like Wil to Rath.
-
Ending Notes: I still believe I've done a horrible Rath. I have him talking much too much. Wil makes less sense than he should. Yet, I couldn't edit it much without scrapping the whole thing. Too bad, it's done. I'm done.
-