Title: Memories
Author: homesweethomicide13
Rating: T
Pairing: Jarda
Warning: Slash
Disclaimer: I do not own DQ, or the song.
Summary: Sometimes the memories ease the pain.
Memories
In this world you tried
Not leaving me alone behind
There's no other way
I pray to the gods let him stay
He knew coming here was a bad idea. Had known it right from the moment he'd stepped outside the palace and began to walk towards the section of the gardens that had been built to honour the memory of those who'd died for Deltora. Yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away. He crouched in front of the marble stone, and traced his fingers over the name engraved into it, in beautiful cursive writing. He lay a single white rose upon the ground in front of the stone, and closed his eyes as he forced back the tears.
"Mother…" He breathed out, feeling the sting of the tears at the back of his eyes increase. Even after so long, it still hurt. The pain was as raw as it had been twenty years ago, when he'd first heard of her death. Even though he knew it was pointless to think about it, he kept telling himself that he should have done more to protect her. He'd seen the fear in her eyes as she'd told him what she'd overheard, heard the panic in her voice – and on top of all of that, the thing she was most concerned about was his own safety. Always thinking about him. She'd been like that ever since his father had died when he was still young. She'd promised his father that she'd protect their boy at all costs, and she'd stuck to that promise even after their boy had grown up and could very well protect himself. She'd told him to run if anything were to happen to her, and after trying to argue that he wouldn't just run away, she'd made him promise. To ease her mind, he'd agreed to run. Then he'd smiled, kissed her cheek, and told her he'd see her after the feast.
He would later discover that she'd already made plans to ensure his safety. When his Chief had come to him a few hours later to inform him of her 'accident', he was given a slip of paper that had been in her hand. In private, Barda had opened it – it was blank, save for the word 'run'. And he had. He left via a window, climbed down a tree, and bolted through the shadows of the gardens towards the gate. He didn't know how he was going to get through the gate, and he knew he'd have to come up with a convincing story. However, once the guards on the gate saw him, they smiled and asked him if he was running an errand for the king. Surprised, Barda had only been able to nod. As he'd started to pass through the gates, he heard the guards murmur to each other.
"Told you. His mother came here earlier to say he might be along later. She would not lie, you know."
His mother had made sure he would be able to leave. She'd done so much in order to keep him safe, and alive.
The tears finally came, splashing on the earth in front of the stone, a couple dropping onto the petals of the rose. He forced back the memories of her death and the incident that had followed, and instead focused on the happier moments. His mother fussing over a tiny scratch from another guard's sword, whilst he tried to fend her off and assuring her he was fine. His mother attempting to flatten his unruly hair and fiddling with his uniform, saying he had to look more presentable whilst he was on duty. His mother chasing him around their home with a wooden spoon because he'd dumped ice down the back of her dress – he'd only been about sixteen at the time. He remembered the laughter as he hurdled the couch and dived under the kitchen table in an attempt to escape the evil wooden spoon.
The memories ease the pain inside,
A smile broke out on his face, despite the tears. He remembered how his friends would complain about their parents, whining about how they were too strict, or treated them too much like little children that couldn't do a thing without them – and he would sit there and listen, with a smile on his face, thinking about how his mother was more like one of his best friends than his mother, and how his father had always been more like an older brother to him. He knew he'd been a lucky man to have such wonderful parents.
And now I know why
He sat back and lifted his face to the sky, eyes remaining closed, the smile still in place. In his mind, his father and mother were standing behind him, both with a hand on each of his shoulders. Both of them were smiling, just as he remembered them smiling.
All of my memories keep you near.
In silent moments,
Imagining you here.
All of my memories keep you near,
In silent whispers, silent tears
Even though he knew it was only in his mind, he lifted his own hand and placed it over where he saw his mother's hand. If he concentrated hard enough, he could even feel the warmth of her touch through his jacket. He could feel the touch of his father as he ruffled his hair, heard the fond words he whispered.
"Daddy's little soldier."
The tears still fell, but the smile wouldn't be wiped from his face. He could never have them back for real, but he had his memories, and he had his dreams. They would have to do. He lingered at the memorial stone for a moment, before he rose to his feet and turned away, heading back to the palace.
Made me promise I'd try,
To find my way back in this life.
Hope there is a way,
To give me a sign you're okay.
Reminds me again it's worth it all,
So I can go home.
He took a quieter route through the palace, walking slowly. He ran his hand over the marble pillars and over the walls, a tiny smile on his face. The old system of the palace was dead and buried – people were no longer kept separate here – but Barda knew these halls well. He'd walked them far too many times to count. This had once been the wing of the palace specifically for servants and their families. His old home was amongst the winding corridors somewhere – he wouldn't go back there. He doubted he ever could.
He'd thought about asking Lief to borrow the Topaz in the hopes of contacting his mother or father. Anna had come to Jasmine, after all. He wanted to know if his parents were together again, if they were okay, if they were happy. But at the same time, he didn't want to see them. It would hurt too much, and he didn't want them to see how much he missed them. Maybe he'd touch the Topaz one day. Maybe he'd bring up the courage to face their spirits, and maybe he'd return to the home he once knew. But not today. Not now. Until then, he was happy with the memory of their smiles, with their voices echoing inside his head.
All of my memories keep you near.
In silent moments,
Imagining you here.
All of my memories keep you near.
In silent whispers, silent tears.
He left the old servants wing and headed up to where his bedchamber was. He needed space, and some time alone. His friends would understand. He wanted to curl up in bed and pretend he was six years old again, cuddled up between his parents.
When he opened the door to his bedchamber, however, he realised he wouldn't be as alone as he'd hoped. Sat on his bed, hair roughly tied back out of his face, was Doom. From the way he looked up as the door had opened, Barda realised he'd been waiting for him. He wanted to tell Doom to leave, but the words wouldn't come. He'd guessed they wouldn't, really. If there was one thing he couldn't do, it was turn Doom away. So when Doom stood up and held out a hand, and beckoned him over, Barda kicked the door closed and moved towards him, taking the outstretched hand and allowing Doom to pull him close. He sank into the warmth of the man's arms and clutched at him as tears threatened to fall once again. Doom understood his pain. It was actually how they'd first come together like this – they'd both sought out comfort, and found it in each other.
A kiss was pressed to his cheek, and gentle fingers stroked through his hair soothingly. Doom could read him like a book these days. He was eased down onto the bed, still held tightly in those strong, warm arms. He knew it was safe to break down now, if he wanted to. Doom would be there for him. He lifted his head so their eyes met, and he smiled.
Together in all these memories,
I see your smile.
All of the memories I hold dear.
Darling you know I'll love you,
Til the end of time.
Doom returned the smile, stroking back his unruly hair from his eyes, maintaining as much contact as possible. His other hand closed over Barda's, lacing their fingers together. They sat in silence, neither needing nor wanting to speak. Eventually they moved from a sitting position to lying, limbs entangled, barely an inch of space between them.
As he lay, face pressed to the curve of Doom's neck, Barda realised that he didn't need to imagine the warmth and comfort of his parents around him. He had the warmth and comfort of the man he loved instead, and that was enough. He lifted his head and captured Doom's lips with his own in a tender kiss.
"I love you." He whispered. They rarely spoke those three words to each other, but Barda felt it was a good moment to say it. Doom smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"I love you too." It was always a big thing for Doom to say it. He'd never thought Doom would love him. His love for Anna had been so great that it seemed like he'd never love anyone else. "Want to talk about it, darling?"
All of my memories keep you near
In silent moments,
Imagining you here.
All of my memories keep you near,
In silent whispers, silent tears.
He did want to. So he did talk. They shared memories of Min, and told each other about Anna and Barda's father, David. They laughed and smiled, even shed a few tears. They talked way into the night, forgetting even to go down to the dining room for their evening meal. Eventually their voices dropped to whispers, and exhaustion crept its way into their minds. When they finally fell asleep, they were wrapped up in each other, and in their memories.
All of my memories...
Author's Note: Some Min/Barda mother/son bonding and some Jarda for you all! Hope you enjoyed it! -homesweethomicide13