Because there wasn't nearly enough time for these two, before Sorrows.

~o~

A Herald's job was never done, and that seemed even more true for a Herald-Mage. Take today, for instance: Vanyel had been up before dawn, not that he often slept much later than that, to check the stability of the Web-spell and take reports from the little vrondi on Mage-activity at the borders. The ones from the North seemed unsettled, anxious, almost, but Van couldn't get much sense out of them beyond that. Then he was swept into several Council meetings on Valdemar's crumbling relationship with Rethwellan, followed by another series of meetings with the Heralds returned from the Karsite Border. These ended with a particularly strenuous spell-casting as he attempted to divine the purpose of a frightening-looking artifact the Heralds had somehow managed to Fetch out of one of the suspiciously-placed wagons just past the Border. The magic object had been causing no end of havoc in the tiny Border village, but as there were too few Herald-Mages to post one on the Border, the examination had to wait until it could be brought to Haven. This had been relatively fruitless; after a few long minutes of picking at the tangled mess of magic within the gilded wooded sun-emblem, Van had broken off the examination with a sigh and declared the device a compulsion overlaid with a low-level fear-spell, but he couldn't find any information as to the identity of the caster or any way to prevent future objects like it from influencing Valdemaren territory. At that, the meeting had adjourned, for which Vanyel had been grateful; he could already feel the reaction-headache growing. By the time he got back to his room, he knew it was going to be one of the worst he'd had in weeks.

Stefen didn't even need to look up to see the pain in those silver eyes; he could feel it well enough pounding in his own head. No surprise, what with the latest problems piling on already unbelievable stresses. Randale's condition had further deteriorated since they'd returned from Forst Reach, and Stefen mentally blessed the clever MindHealers who were the only reason he wasn't currently just as exhausted as his lover. His lover! Sometimes he couldn't quite believe the bond he shared with the famed Herald-Mage. Him, a Bard-Gifted boy off the streets, and the hero of the Karsite Border and a dozen other conflicts. But then it was enough proof to wake beside his love and feel the ever-present link deep in his heart. Although that had been happening less and less often, as politics and duty seemed ever more determined to come between them. He'd woken alone this morning, Vanyel already busy with his own work and that of the King's Own. Stef hadn't seen him all day; the Herald-Mage hadn't even had half a candlemark to himself. So Stef had waited, as he did most nights, sitting in the room they mostly shared and working out a new song that'd come into his mind.

"What have they been doing with you, love?" he asked, turning to Van and giving the words the little flowery twist he knew so amused him. "Does the Council not realize they are dealing with a mortal man, and not a figure out of tales?"

Van gave a weary smile. "I would curse those songwriters if I wasn't so certain you'd defend them. Most of the Palace still seems convinced I'm some sort of legend."

"Some sort of legend who seriously needs to rest." Stefen played a few notes, overlaying them with his special Gift. He was rewarded with the sight of the pain fading from Vanyel's face.

"Gods, that feels better." Van lowered himself into a chair by the fire. "It's been a longer day than usual."

"I can tell." Stefen kept playing, focusing the power long after the ache had faded from his own head. "I don't know how you do it, ashke, it seems more than one man should bear."

Vanyel answered that as he always did. "I must; the King and Valdemar need all I can give."

Stefen decided not to push Vanyel for a debate on duty and ethics when he was clearly exhausted. Instead, he let the music fill the silence between them.

"I wish I could do more for you," he said, finally. "But I'd be useless at meetings."

That earned him a smile.

"You're doing more than enough, Stef," Vanyel assured him, "Randale is more grateful than you can know. And as for me..."

Stefen grinned, eyes bright. "Oh, I know that part!" The two of them laughed.

Recovered enough to pay attention to the music rather than just its effects, Vanyel noticed the unfamiliar song.

"Is this a new piece?"

"Perceptive as always, ashke," Stefen said with a smile. "I thought it up while I was going through some old books in the library."

"There's some remarkable things hidden there. What was it that inspired you?"

"You know the old Midwinter fable, about the Prince who helps the kyree and is offered a reward, but he refuses, saying it's his duty to assist those in need?"

"And years later they return the favor and help his army win an impossible war? I know that one. It was my favorite when I was young."

That pleased Stefen more than it should. "It reminded me of you, a bit. You do so much for these people and yet you ask for nothing."

"I have Yfandes, and I have you. That's all I ask," Vanyel replied, serious, then laughed. "Anyway, I wouldn't make a very good Prince."

"Why not? You're certainly elegant enough. Or maybe a Princess?" Stefen suggested, a mischievous grin forming on his face. He strummed up a cheerful tune, and sang, "The pretty princess Vanyel rode to the fair, to buy some pretty ribbons for her pretty hair."

They both laughed at that, and Stefen knew it was the first scrap of lighthearted fun Vanyel had had in weeks.

"No, I don't think that would quite work," Vanyel laughed. "And I know someone who'd object to it."

Yes, there were some things they always made time for.

"I would like to hear that kyree song, though, when you think it's ready."

"I could sing it now, if you want." Stef played a few chords, and at Vanyel's nod of agreement, paused a moment to collect his thoughts, took a breath, and started singing.

His song, for his love, the hero of a thousand tales still waiting for a happy ending that seemed unlikelier by the day.

~o~

Inspired by typhe's marvelous Van/Stef fics on AO3.

Also, I fail at suggestiveness. And I really should be working on my Korra fic. But certain doomed legendary gay people have caught my interest and seem reluctant to let go. Hey, their love lasted over 600 years, I think that's something.

I love this relationship and all the complexity of it and the context in which it takes place. Their world is fantastic. Rich with meaning, and dark, but always with some hope.