A/N – Ammar and Rodrigo speak one last time, before the end.
Disclaimer – I do not claim to own these characters. I'm merely borrowing them, trying to fill in the gaps.
II – The Last Conversation
"So," Rodrigo said quietly, "it has finally come to this."
"Yes." Ammar nodded. "We always knew it would."
They stood together under the slowly darkening sky, each knowing that this would be the last time, the last chance –
"Ammar…" Rodrigo half-lifted his hand, reaching out. Once, Ammar would have laughed, and gripped it, but the weight of politics, history and religion had proved impossible to resist. Their summer interlude in Ragosa had been a fragile, glorious anomaly. It should never have been, really, in this dying world.
"Do you remember the first night, when we shared a wineskin after the fight?" he asked abruptly.
"Jad, yes," Rodrigo laughed. "You started declaiming poetry at the stars. An angry citizen with no appreciation for fine verse threw their chamber pot out the window at you…"
"It was a good night." A good memory.
"Yes." Ammar could see Rodrigo's throat work as he swallowed, as he tipped his head back slightly to appear unconcerned. He knew that Rodrigo was remembering that night, and other nights like it. "Yes, it was good."
But now it was over. Here, on a level plain near Silvenes, in the twilight that was of neither Ashar nor Jad, they would see the end of something extraordinary –
"Shall we begin?"
There was nothing more to be said, not anymore. They had spoken all the futile words long ago, in the darkness at Orvilla, when Ammar had chosen Al-Rassan and Rodrigo had chosen Esperana, and they had both known that the choices were irrevocable and absolute.
"Let us end it."
Together, they strapped on their helms, lifted their swords and shields, and prepared to do battle for the glory and favour of their gods.
Whatever they had once shared, it was finished.