In his dream Asher was kicked and spat on. The looming, shadowy figures of his brothers stretched ten feet tall around him and subjected him to the same brutal assault and humiliation that they had after the Sea Harvest Festival. Asher curled himself up, trying to protect himself as best he could. In the distance a lone figure called out his name. It was Da. Try as he might, Asher couldn't get up, couldn't get away from his brothers, couldn't reach the father who had died a senseless death because of him.

Asher woke with a start and sat up, his heavy breathing was making fog in front of his face, and his forehead was damp. His heart was racing. It was a moment before Asher could calm himself and recall where he was. He was in the barn, lying on the straw-covered floor, Gar lay sleeping less than a metre from him. The scant few belongings that they had brought with them were strewn around them. Holes in the roof high above allowed soft moonlight to illuminate the large empty room. The rickety wooden walls creaked gently in the wind, but otherwise the night was still.

And cold, very cold.

Sitting there, Asher gazed over at the prince; he was glad that his nightmare hadn't woken him. It was just as well, seeing has how Gar had enough on his plate without worrying if Asher was falling to pieces or not.

The prince was sleeping on his side, facing away from him, shivering from the frigid night. A meagre blanket from one of the saddlebags was his only protection from the cold. As he continued to watch Gar, it occurred to Asher that this was the most alone that he had ever been with the prince. In more than a year of working with Gar, there had always been servants in and out the door, or Darran lurking around. Even when the two of them were alone, holed up in Gar's study, there had always been the possibility of that pesky Willer or someone else barging in. But now, it was only the two of them, with no one else around for miles. No one even knew where they were.

Who'd have ever thought? Asher mused. A prince and a fisherman, spending the night in a barn in the middle of nowhere. After everything that's happened, I'm the one person out of everyone in the whole kingdom who's here with Gar.

Asher had come to see it as almost laughable, that somehow he had come to be Gar's closest friend. They didn't always agree, and had to learn to compromise when they didn't, but Asher supposed that after a lifetime of everyone tacking 'Your Highness' to the end of every sentence, it must be refreshing for Gar to have someone who challenges him. Sure, Gar had his family, but that wasn't the same; a sister spoilt rotten, a father oftentimes more occupied with the worries of a kingdom than with those of his son, and a mother who, with such a demanding family, was not always able to be there for him.

And no romantic interest to be found, and Asher would know, seeing as how he spent just about enough time with Gar to fill the role. It was something that Asher had always wondered about. With Gar being royalty and all, what eligible woman would dare object to his advances? What's more, although Asher would never admit it to anyone, least of all to Gar, he had come to appreciate that Gar was certainly rather… handsome. You know. For a man. As far as Doranen went. He would also never admit to anyone that Gar's lean physique had more than once drawn his notice, as had his delicate features, fine complexion, and piercing eyes. Gar could surely have had any well-mannered, respectable lady in the kingdom had he wanted her, instead he was willing to spend day after day cooped up in the Tower with Asher.

And willing for Asher to come back to Dorana with him, even after Asher lied to him, abandoned him, and gave him every reason not to take him back.

Perhaps that was equally laughable, that Gar had come to be Asher's closest friend too, and maybe his only one now. Asher could no longer imagine his life without Gar; telling him that he would be leaving had been the hardest thing he had ever done. And when he had seen Gar go overboard in the harbour, Asher hadn't even thought about himself, had simply jumped into the churning waves after him. Gar was just about the only person that he had left. Da. Jed. Dathne. One by one he had either lost and hurt them all. Given enough time, would he just wind up hurting Gar too?

Maybe I have already. Asher thought to himself. Look at him. Lying in muddy hay, freezing his arse off. Probably the first time he's ever slept on something other than silk sheets and a feather pillow.

In the end, Asher wasn't really sure why he did it. As he pulled back Gar's blanket, told himself that it was because if Darren ever found out he had sat idly by as Gar caught a fever on top of everything else, he would be hunted across the kingdom by the old man. Asher slid up next to Gar, his chest pressed up against the prince's back, and drew the blanket over them both. He slipped his arm over Gar's side, onto his chest and pulled Gar tightly against himself. After a time, the prince's shivering stopped, and Asher felt both their bodies began to warm, and the rise and fall of Gar's chest starting to coincide with his own.

To Asher's surprise, being this close to the prince felt… good.

Because he's my friend. Asher told himself, unable to admit his true feelings even to himself.

Before finally drifting off again into sleep, Asher leaned his head over and gently kissed Gar's cheek. 'Sleep well, my prince,' he whispered.