Early Morning

A/N - Don't jump to conclusions.

Sparhawk stirred in his sleep, restless but dimly reassured by the comforting presence beside him. Even without opening his eyes, he knew where he was and with who - he could smell Vanion's sweat and his own, the wine that they had shared and the soft voices of people outside going about their business.

Lazily, he opened his eyes, looking first at the early morning sunlight creating shifting patterns in the air then at the man sleeping next to him. Sparhawk run through his vocabulary, briefly ranging into Styric for the word that he wanted. Yes - that was it. Contented. At peace. A small smile flickered on his face, odd beneath his smashed nose but Kalten would have recognized the glint in his blue eyes as trouble.

He dropped his lips to just above Vanion's face, lightening his guff voice as best as he was able. 'Vanion.' The sleeping Preceptor stirred a flash of irritation passing over his face.

'What?'

'Wake up, Vanion. Wake up.' Sparhawk's voice was low, affectionate. Gently, he shook Vanion's shoulder. 'Vanion.'

Alert now, the Preceptor glanced across at Sparhawk, his normally bleak face pulled into a smile. 'Keep it down, Sparhawk. They passed a law against this years ago, and being Preceptor and Champion…'

'I know Vanion. I wouldn't exactly enjoy being caught, either.'

Vanion looked meaningfully across at the Queen's Champion. 'Be quieter, then,' he hissed under his breath.

Sparhawk pulled himself into a more upright position, grinning as Vanion did the same, muttering something about late nights and pulling his fingers through his chestnut hair. 'We ought to do this more often.'

Half an hour later, the pair of knights walked side by side through the courtyard. Suddenly, Vanion flushed red; Sparhawk began to pray more devotedly than he had ever done in his life. Sepherinia stood in front of them, smaller by a head but seeming to tower in her annoyance.

'Sir Olven was complaining to me a minute ago that he thought that Knights I trained normally had better manners than you two. He would like to know why the leader and the Queen's Champion find it impossible to keep awake through an early morning sermon in chapel.'

Vanion flushed an even deeper red. 'I thought that you at least might have worked out why I was tired, seeing as you were there, although I suppose you had the benefit of not getting up at some hour of the morning that God didn't mean to create. And his sermon was practically identical to mine. I didn't think sleeping through one would matter.'

Sepherinia looked up at the Preceptor, and Sparhawk felt a surge of pity for them and for that which was plain to see but regarded as sinful, no matter how Vanion made light of it. Prudently though, he started to step away from them. Death itself would not make him tell what he knew about the pair, but whether Vanion would return the favour had to be seen.

He sauntered over to Kalten. 'Are we going to that inn again tonight? There was that serving maid you wanted to see again wasn't there?'

Kalten groaned. 'Please, Sparhawk. You drunk more than me last night, but I'm still feeling rough. Talk to me later. You and Vanion had the right idea in chapel.'

A/N - I did say not to jump to conclusions.