Disclaimer: I don't claim to own Fire Emblem or any of the characters mentioned in this fanfiction.

Why… I wonder why my head hurts…? Is this some sort of punishment for my misdeeds? Naesala wondered. He was aware that he was only half-conscious, and could hear several people murmuring in concern from around him, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. They should… speak more loudly. I hate people who talk behind my back…

Even as he thought those words, the voices began to fade, becoming fainter and fainter until he could hear nothing at all.

---

As King, Naesala wasn't supposed to show fear or any emotion in that vein, but even the stoutest lion probably would have quailed beneath the seething gaze of the hawk King. Luckily, Naesala had had quite a bit of experience staring down his fearsome counterpart over the years, although he'd never seen Tibarn so angry before.

Then again, Naesala had never done anything to anger the hawk of this magnitude before. But he would have probably been just as angry as Tibarn was if the hawk had slaughtered his people. Not that he would have ever been in a position like that.

"Well?" Tibarn's low growl, almost a snarl, broke through Naesala's musings. His jaw was clenched tightly, his arms folded against his chest… The scene might have amused him if he had been an observer, not actually participating in the exchange. "You'd better give a damn good reason for what you did before I tear your limbs off, you traitorous crow!"

The Kilvan King resisted the urge to swallow nervously. He did have a fairly good excuse, but he wasn't sure if it would cut it with Tibarn; not that the raven could blame him if it didn't.

"…Have you ever heard of a blood pact?" he asked finally.

"What does a legend have to do with this?" Janaff demanded.

Jeez… Does everyone have to be present at my humiliation? Naesala thought darkly. All the laguz rulers, as well as their lieutenants and right hands and whatnot were in the hall, it seemed. Maybe Mainel Cathedral hadn't been such a good location to give his confession, since it made it possible for the Apostle, her Seraph Knights, Micaiah, Sothe, Ike, Elincia…

He gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to snap at the hawk king's eyes. "But you know what it is," Naesala persisted.

"…Yes. Now get on with it," Tibarn said coldly.

The raven twitched. "Lekain… Tricked me into signing one," he admitted softly. "More than half of my people were already dead… because I disobeyed him before." He hated the stricken expression on Tibarn's face. He preferred the cold rage and hatred to this expression of… of understanding, and - worst of all - sympathy, but Naesala refused to look away from his hawk counterpart. He hated how helpless he felt, almost as helpless as he had when he'd been under the stricture of the blood pact.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Skrimir demanded. At least the lion seemed unfazed by the raven's confession, which relieved him, for some reason. "Surely we could have found a solution, some way to destroy this pact-"

"There is only one way to destroy a blood pact," Micaiah said. Sothe stood behind her, but at least he was the only beorc present from their little group; Naesala didn't need more witnesses than he already had. "Even if the pact itself is destroyed, the mark of the blood pact remains graven on the signer's skin, and so the signer can still be held to it."

"Hmph. How could you have been so deceived, Naesala? I thought you were the devious one-" Skrimir said.

"Skrimir…" Ranulf muttered.

The future lion king scowled, but said no more.

"Don't think you're forgiven," Tibarn said. "But now that there I know there is actually a reason behind your actions… Even if it all stemmed from your greed, I can understand, to some extent, why you would have… done what you did."

---

"Nn…" Naesala groaned, slowly opening his eyes. His throat burned, and his head throbbed steadily. "Damn it…"

"Are you thirsty?" Leanne asked from somewhere to his left.

"Yes," he croaked. He coughed, and his stomach lurched. "Oh, Goddess…" he groaned. He felt someone press a glass against his mouth, and then a small trickle of water slipped down his throat. The raven drank greedily, choking after a moment or so.

"I'm going to go tell Reyson," Leanne told him, and he heard her leave.

He coughed again and slowly opened his eyes.

"Interesting book. I didn't know you liked this stuff," Tibarn remarked. He was sitting on a cushioned stool several feet from Naesala's bed. In his hands was one of the books from Naesala's house.

"H-hey," Naesala exclaimed, sitting up quickly. Too quickly. His head spun and he flopped back against numerous pillows. "Nn…" He could feel his cheeks heating, and resented the hawk king at that moment.

"How did you get that?" he asked, hating how weak his voice sounded. The raven turned his head to look at the hawk with half-lidded eyes.

Tibarn rose and stood before him. "Are you feeling worse? Your cheeks are all red."

"Sh-shut up!" he managed to snap, then dissolved into a fit of coughing. He reached for the half-full glass of water sitting on the bedside table beside his bed. "Where am I anyway? And what time is it?"

Tibarn handed him the glass. "Serenes. A guest room. You've been asleep for a day and a half. It's about one in the afternoon."

Naesala took a sip, feeling relief as more liquid slid down his throat. He looked around, to avoid looking at the hawk. It was a decent-sized room, with a chest of drawers, a large window covered with see-through white curtains and accompanying window seat. Several cushioned stools were placed around the room, and a wash basin stood in the corner. His bed was on the wall opposite the window.

"About this book…" Tibarn waved the afore-mentioned volume in front of his face, "you still haven't told me-"

"Give that back-" Naesala reached for it, but Tibarn was faster. The raven grimaced as he spilled the remainder of the water onto the quilt.

"I'm not done yet," the hawk told him, tucking the book into his shirt.

The former King scowled darkly. "When did you get it?" he asked, leaning back into the pillows. He'd get it eventually, when he felt better. The damage was already done, since it had looked like the hawk was about three quarters of the way through the book.

If he hadn't known better, the raven might have thought Tibarn had just smirked. "Why? Haven't you read it already?"

"I thought it was bad manners to harass a sick person," Naesala retorted, but it sounded more like a croak. "Ugh…" He coughed again, leaning farther back into the pillows. "Go away if you're going to be useless, hawk."

"Your gratitude is sadly lacking. I didn't have to catch you as you fell out of the sky - or maybe you conveniently forgot, crow?" Tibarn replied, pulling his stool closer so he sat beside the bed.

"…" Hehad forgotten, actually, but wasn't about to tell the hawk that. Instead, he contented himself by ignoring the hawk.

The door opened again, this time to admit Reyson. He looked happy, Naesala noted, and seemed quite at ease.

"Why didn't you come visit?" he asked. "Oh Tibarn, Leanne said Janaff was looking for you," he added.

The hawk king nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

"Well? What's your excuse this time, Naesala?" Reyson said expectantly. He took the stool Tibarn had vacated.

"Excuse? I had work," the raven replied, his sore throat making his voice rasp. "Got anymore water?" he asked hopefully.

"Leanne was getting you some," the heron prince replied. "And work is a lame excuse. Surely you can come up with something more convincing than that? I'm sure Sanaki would have let you take a break to come visit Serenes."

"Yeah, you're right," Naesala agreed. "I just… didn't feel like it."

"So you come when you're sick, that way you can make everyone catch a cold?"

"N-no!" He started coughing, and the pain in his throat intensified.

"…Relax, I was just teasing you," Reyson said. "Don't strain yourself."

"…Isn't this ironic?" Naesala muttered once his coughing had subsided.

"What is?"

"Well, usually it was me or Tibarn telling you not to strain yourself… And now you're the one telling me that," the raven explained. His stomach hurt terribly from all the coughing, but he wasn't about to let anyone know that; he was a former king after all, and letting others know they was in pain wasn't something kings did.

Reyson smiled slightly. "That's true," he agreed. "I never thought we'd be in this position."

"Still, I don't think I've ever had a cold this serious before," Naesala remarked. At least my nose isn't running… How would that look?

"Oh, that's right. We think it was a combination of exhaustion and your cold that made you this sick," the heron said. "So maybe you should have taken a break sooner."

Fortunately, Naesala was saved from answering because Leanne entered at that moment, carrying a tray with a glass of water and a bowl of something steaming. She put the tray on Naesala's lap, then moved the glass of water to the bedside table. She stood there, looking at him expectantly.

"…Thanks," he said, trying not to gag. The scent coming from the… stuff… in the bowl was less than appetizing. "But I don't think I'd be able to hold it- er, any food down, at the moment," he lied. Well, half-lied. It did smell bad, and he doubted he'd be able to swallow it.

"Oh… But I made it for you and everything," Leanne said, disappointed. "But if you're sure you can't…"

Over her shoulder, Naesala could see the amused expression on Reyson's face. Some friend he is, the raven thought, irritated. "Well, when you put it like that, how could I not try… this…"

"You will? Well, it's the first time I've tried to make something, so I thought I'd try something simple, like soup," Leanne explained cheerfully.

Naesala nodded. Shouldn't judge it before you've tried it… the raven told himself, hesitantly taking up the spoon. He raised a spoonful to his mouth…

The door slammed open and a harassed looking Janaff barged in. Naesala cursed as he dropped the spoon onto the quilt; all the soup contained therein somehow managed to splatter him. The hawk's eyes flicked to Naesala, then around the room. "…Not here then," he muttered.

"Thanks for knocking," the raven said dryly.

The less-than-tall hawk didn't even acknowledge him as he quickly ran out again.

"I think something has happened to Ulki, and that is causing him to be so impolite," Leanne said. "His thoughts are very jumbled, and hard to read. He's looking for Tibarn. "

The former king studied the heron princess. "You sure it isn't just because I-"

"No, it's not that. Why do you keep bringing it up?" Reyson asked. "It happened in the past, and nothing can be done about it. I'm not saying I condone just forgetting it, but if you keep dwelling on it, you're never going to get over it; Tibarn has told you he understands why you did it, and he forgave you, so I don't know why you keep bringing it up."

"He forgave me? And when did that happen?" Naesala asked, surprised. "I don't recall ever hearing that."

"Really? He thinks about-"

"Leanne."

"Right, right. Sorry."

The raven looked suspiciously from one heron to the other. What were they going on about? He scowled and returned to his soup, pondering the dilemma. He'd have to ingest some eventually, or risk angering or hurting Leanne, and he assumed it would taste worse, as most food did, if it got cold.

Surprisingly, the soup was quite flavourful. Naesala wouldn't have gone straight to delicious, but it was far from disgusting… Unique. He wondered what she had put into it.

"You like it then?" Leanne asked happily. "Good, good. I'll go give some to Father then." She hurried out, smiling.

"…Am I just her test subject?!" Naesala grumbled, somewhat rhetorically.

Reyson chuckled. "I guess so."

"It's nice to know I'm loved," the raven said dryly, setting his spoon down. The bowl of soup was about half gone, and it was soothing his stomach and throat, he just felt full.

The heron prince shrugged. "Everyone's just happy to see your smiling face."

Naesala rolled his eyes. "When did you develop such… sarcasm?"

"I've been practicing."

"…Smart aleck." He started coughing again.

Reyson chuckled again. "Hurry up and get better, all right? I don't want to catch a cold either." He rose. "I'll take that tray, if you're done with it," he offered.

"Thanks… But should the herons really be waiting on a common crow?"

"Stop selling yourself short," Reyson ordered, giving Naesala a stern look. "Besides… If you keep acting like this, you'll end up doing something you'll regret, and then what? Just concentrate on getting better and leave the rest to us. Take a nap or something." The heron prince hurried out, taking the tray with him.

"…You'd think I had a terminal illness or something," muttered the raven, closing his eyes. He did feel a bit tired, now that Reyson had said that.

---

"Naesala! Why are you leaving?" Leanne cried, looking close to tears. "You don't have to go…" Seeing that her words were having little effect on him, she turned to Nealuchi. "Tell him, tell him he can stay," she pleaded.

"Nestling has made up his mind," Nealuchi said, studying the younger raven through half-lidded eyes. He and Leanne, as well as Reyson and several other ravens had come to see the former king off. They stood at the edge of the recently revitalized Serenes, trying vainly to convince him to stay. "You can't dissuade him."

Naesala's eyebrow twitched at being called 'Nestling', but he managed not to be drawn out. "Yes, that's right, you should listen to Nealuchi, Leanne," he told her. "Besides, the whole happy vibe that seems to resonate in this place… It's unnatural for me; I'd probably just end up messing it up too."

"You're wrong. Stop doubting yourself," she told him, glaring through the tears that had started trickling down her cheeks.

"…Hey, stop crying. You're only making this harder on yourself," Naesala told her. He hated seeing her cry, especially on his account. "Besides, I have to atone, for… for everything."

"Reyson! Help me convince him," Leanne said plaintively.

"…Nealuchi's right. He won't change his mind."

"How can you say that?" she demanded.

"Right then, I'm off," Naesala said with a cheeriness that was entirely a sham. "See you all."

"Sir, don't leave…" he heard one of the ravens say as he shifted into his raven form.

"You'll come visit, won't you? Naesala!"

But he was already flying away. Selfish, he told himself, you're selfish, and you always will be…

---

When he woke next, it was dark. Moonlight filtered in through the drawn curtain, lighting the room surprisingly well. He could see the large orb outside; the moon must almost have been full. Someone had also lit a lamp, which was on his bedside table.

Tibarn was back as well, sitting in the same stool, book in hand. Naesala would have punched him out, if he'd had the energy. Instead, he sat up and reached for the glass of water, drinking it slowly so he didn't choke.

"You were talking in your sleep," the hawk king announced, turning the page. The raven noticed that he had a different book, but still one found at his house. Where was he getting all of these?!

"…" Naesala didn't deign to answer, instead replacing the glass upon the table.

They sat in silence, the only sound the slight shff of the pages as Tibarn turned them.

Finally, the raven broke the quiet. "Where'd you get that? You had a different one before."

"They found their way into my possession when I was at your house," Tibarn said calmly.

"But where did you put them?" Naesala persisted.

"Pockets have many uses."

"I never took you for a thief."

" 'Borrowing' is different than 'stealing'," the hawk king replied.

"But you borrowed without asking."

Tibarn's eyes flicked to him. "Are you pouting?"

"N-no!" Naesala snapped, annoyed and embarrassed. His stupid cheeks were probably turning red, too. He took another sip of water.

"Now you're blushing."

The raven choked, spluttering furiously in an attempt to voice his outrage.

"Don't kill yourself," he heard the hawk muttered, and Tibarn plucked the glass out of his hand, putting it on the table.

Once he'd recovered, Naesala just glared at his former rival. The hawk stared back calmly, unruffled.

"Nealuchi's going to be very annoyed with you. He'd have been here to see you already, but he was visiting Crimea on official business," Tibarn remarked. "He's always going on about how Nestling never comes to see himself or Lady Leanne."

"Don't call me that," the raven said automatically, but he did feel a little guilty. He'd left, merely saying that he needed to atone, and hadn't seen any of them for over half a year. He'd asked the Empress not to tell anyone where he lived either. "Only Nealuchi can call me that."

The hawk snorted. "You're not that much younger than me." ((Made that up, but I think N is younger than T. I hope I remember that I think that and don't end up contradicting myself in the future xD))

"…"

"Did you mean those things you said?" Tibarn asked, sitting back down. He had the book balanced in his open palm, studying him keenly.

"…Depends. What did I say?" Naesala replied, shifting into a more comfortable position. "When did I say, for that matter?"

"When you were sleeping, you said-"

"I don't… talk in my sleep," Naesala said firmly

"You were definitely mumbling," Tibarn told him.

"…Fine, what did I say?"

"You said you were selfish. Do you believe that?"

"… …Did I say anything else?"

Tibarn studied him for a moment. "Yes, but I won't tell you what else until you answer."

"You know, considering this is supposed to be a vacation, I don't feel very relaxed," the raven said, changing tack. "Everyone's always asking me stupid questions-"

"I wonder, has Nealuchi seen this book before?" the hawk interrupted.

"Yes, fine, I do," Naesala said, irritated. "I do believe I'm selfish, hawk, and I'm sure you'd agree. In fact, you used to tell me how selfish and greedy I was every single opportunity you got-"

"You said you didn't deserve to live," Tibarn said calmly, as if he hadn't even heard the raven's tirade. "Do you believe that as well?" He was standing beside his bed now, looking down at Naesala. The raven hated being looked down on, couldn't stand it at all.

"Look, why do you even care?!" he demanded. "What happened to you hating my guts?! When did it become let's ask fucking philosophical questions--!"

Naesala was jerked forward as Tibarn seized the front of his shirt roughly, pulling him up so their face were level. "Is this what happens whenever someone shows a bit of concern? You get all defensive, like they have some ulterior motive other than your wellbeing in mind? Or is it that you can't begin to grasp the concept of concern, you're so wrapped up in your greed and so assume that whomever it is that bothered to show you some concern is trying to hurt you?!" he snapped, but his voice was low.

"Close," the raven snarled back, keeping his voice low as well. "You've forgotten something: I. Killed. Your. People." Tibarn flinched, and Naesala felt a twinge of regret, but pushed on. "Why would you feel any concern for my wellbeing?! You should hate me! Why don't you hate me?!"

"Youwant to be hated?" Tibarn demanded, incredulous. The anger in his voice had subsided somewhat, but it was still there, simmering beneath the surface. Naesala could see the ire in his golden eyes. "Is that what you're trying to tell me? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"It's not ridi- It's better than being… than being pitied!" he retorted, trying to extract his shirt from Tibarn's grip. The hawk was physically stronger than the raven on any given day, and in his sickened condition Naesala definitely couldn't remove his hand.

"I don't pity you," Tibarn hissed, giving him a shake. "What the hell gave you that impression?"

"You say you don't, but your eyes… They tell a different story. I saw the look on your face when I told you about the blood pact!"

The hawk released him, and the raven flopped back, cushioned by the pillows. He started coughing, and closed his eyes, hoping that the king would be gone once he opened them.

No such luck. He felt the mattress beneath him sink in as Tibarn sat beside him, and pressed the glass of water into his hand wordlessly.

Naesala sighed once his coughing had subsided and took a sip.

"I don't pity you," Tibarn said again.

Naesala didn't answer, or open his eyes. His wings were starting to feel a little cramped though; he wasn't used to lying on his back for long periods of time like this.

"Hey, did you hear me?" The hawk poked him in the side.

"Ow! Yeah, I heard you," Naesala growled. "It's bad enough that my stomach hurts from coughing, I don't need you jabbing me viciously on top of that."

"It's your own fault for not answering."

Naesala opened his eyes, sapphire staring into topaz. (!) "You're very stubborn, you know that?"

"As if you're one to talk."

"…Don't you have anything better to do?" the raven asked, putting the glass back on the bedside table. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Around midnight."

"… …Your concern is very…" Odd. "…touching, but shouldn't you get some sleep? You're the king, after all."

"King's can do almost whatever they want," Tibarn replied. He was reading the book again.

"…Responsible kings don't do whatever they want." As if I'm one to talk about the responsibility of kings, he thought.

"They do almost whatever they want," the hawk agreed, nodding. He turned a page.

"…Do you have to read it in front of me? It's embarrassing enough that you've seen it, but you have to rub it in my face by reading it?"

The Phoenician turned an eye to him. "Why? You must have read it before. Where did you get it from, anyway?"

Naesala scowled and leaned back. He most certainly was not going to answer that question. (Tanith had found it and several others like it in Sanaki's possession, and had assumed it was his. He'd had the entire series thrown at him, accompanied by a very thorough tongue-lashing and a very sharp javelin. He was lucky to evade the latter. The raven had later found out that Elincia had given them to Sanaki, of all people. He'd read them out of curiosity… Some were more… radical than others, but he'd kept them all.)

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," the raven replied.

"…Now you have my interest piqued."

"Well, that's just too bad."

"…Hmph. Well, whoever wrote them is a genius."

Naesala opened his eyes. "You like them?" He was surprised; he'd thought the hawk was just reading them to irk him.

"Yes; don't you?"

"…Which ones have you read anyway?" he asked cautiously.

"Tactics. Paradise. I'm on Violence." (!)

"…You got all of those from my house? How many did you take?" Naesala demanded. He's already read Tactics… What must he be thinking? And Violence… Is even more so than Tactics… He groaned inwardly. Of course he would take the most graphic ones…

"Three; this is the last one," Tibarn replied calmly.

Two can play at this game, Naesala thought grimly. "They were that interesting to you?"

"Yes… I think Tactics was my favourite so far," the hawk replied seriously.

The raven studied him suspiciously, but the other laguz seemed to be perfectly serious. Still…

"And which is your favourite?"

"Eh? Vi- Er, Paradise," Naesala said quickly, glad that the light was fairly bad, which meant his reddening cheeks wouldn't be too prominent.

"Really? What's your favourite part of Violence?"

"…Don't really like that one," the raven muttered. "I said I liked Paradise, didn't I?" He took another sip of water and hoped to the Goddess that Tibarn couldn't see his hands shaking.

"Show me?" The hawk seemed to be ignoring him completely, and held the book in front of him.

"…Too tired," Naesala said, taking another sip of water. "Maybe if your bring Paradise tomorrow…"

"You know, I've heard that reading aloud to someone stuck in bed sick is good for them. I could read Violence to you tomorrow, if you'd like… Then you can tell me your favourite part when I get to it…"

"All right!" Naesala snatched the book from his hand and flipped to a random page. He shoved it back at the hawk. "Here."

Even in the dim light, the raven could see the Phoenician's raised eyebrow. "Interesting choice."

"What? What page did I pick--?!" Naesala sat up quickly, snatching for the book, but Tibarn held it at arm length.

"Worried?" the hawk asked calmly, his golden eyes showing amusement at the raven's predicament.

"Tch!" He grabbed the hawk's left arm, which he was leaning on, with his right hand and jerked him forward, grabbing for the book with his free hand.

Tibarn shifted, dropping the book and throwing his right arm out so that he wouldn't fall on top of Naesala, who scowled at the hawk, trying to ignore the discomfort that came with his close proximity to the raven. Once again, he was glad for the dim light coming from the lamp; it cast everything in an orange light in addition to providing insufficient lighting, so his reddening cheeks weren't obvious… He hoped.

That same dim light was a curse though, because he couldn't see Tibarn's face clearly either.

"Is it that important to you?" the hawk asked. He was close enough that Naesala could feel his soft breath against his face. "Or maybe… you're embarrassed?"

"…Maybe," the raven mumbled, shifting.

"But you wouldn't have kept it if…" The hawk cocked his head, and in doing so placed his eyes in a position so that the raven could see them.

Naesala looked away, unable to continue staring into those gold eyes. They were full of emotion, and yet he couldn't read them at all. What am I doing? he thought frantically, trying to think of a way out of this mess. He was totally out of his depth, and painfully aware of it. He released Tibarn's arm and closed his eyes, just wishing that the hawk would leave.

The raven felt Tibarn shifted, and calloused fingers closed around his chin, gently turning his head to face the hawk. "Open your eyes," the Phoenician said quietly, much closer than he had been before. Too close. He could feel the other's soft exhalations against his lips.

Naesala refused, his heart thumping erratically. He hated how he felt at that moment, hated and yet… didn't want the feeling to end.

"…Stubborn," the hawk muttered.

The raven's eyes flew open as he felt Tibarn press their lips together gently, almost hesitantly, leaving no doubt to Naesala that he could pull away if he wanted to.

If, mind you.

The Kilvan pressed closer to the hawk, parting his lips slightly, his arms moving to rest at the nape of the hawk's neck. Tibarn needed no further invitation, releasing the other's chin in favour of slipping his arm around to the small of his back, supporting the raven as he gently pushed him backwards. Naesala shivered as the hawk ran his tongue over the raven's lower lip, a soft shudder escaping as Tibarn's tongue entered his mouth. The king was kissing him with more urgency now, his lips pressing insistently against the raven's, and the raven responded with equal ardour, pulling Tibarn closer.

Their breathing was ragged as they broke apart. Naesala pressed his forehead against the hawk's shoulder, coughing.

"Sorry," Tibarn mumbled, his lips pressed against the raven's ear.

"Nn… Don't be," Naesala replied, once he'd caught his breath.

The hawk pulled back, studying him with unreadable eyes once more. "You look tired," he remarked. "…I should go."

"N- Fine, if you want to," Naesala muttered. His mind was still reeling, but he knew for sure that he didn't want Tibarn to go.

The king nodded and rose. "Good night," he said, pausing in the doorway.

"…Yeah, you too," the raven replied. He was unwilling to tell the hawk that he wanted him to stay, his pride wouldn't let him.

The hawk left, closing the door softly behind him.

Naesala sighed and closed his eyes, wondering what the hell he was going to do.

---

The next morning when Leanne came in, Naesala was asleep. She noticed an orange book with a large red circle with a line through it lying near the foot of the bed.

"Odd…" she murmured to herself, picking it up. She flipped through it curiously, wondering who could have left it here; Naesala had brought no books with him, and she'd never seen it around before…

She was only starting to learn how to read in the common tongue, but maybe that was a good thing.

"…Hm…What is…"She sounded the unknown word out slowly, wondering what it could mean. "I'll ask Naesala when he wakes," she decided, closing the book and placing it beside the lamp, which had burned out in the night.

"He will know what 'prostate' is."

Exclamation marks:

1 - I looked up topaz in my built-in Word dictionary, and it said topaz was (2) yellowish gemstone: a yellowish gemstone, especially yellow sapphire or a yellow variety of quartz.Isn't yellow sapphire a contradiction? o.o' Weird.

2 - Any ideas about the books? xD

Um. I have nothing else to add. Review and such, please. Constructive criticism and the like are greatly appreciated as well. Hope you enjoyed it!