Disclaimer: I do not own. I just write this stuff. It's fun. XD

Warning: frivolous battle scenes, yaoi, slow pace, etc. Maybe dark themes, since I really can't avoid that. YAOI is bolded and underlined for a reason. This chapter is kind of limey, verging on lemon.

Author's Note: Do you guys have any idea how hard it is for me to write exposition? So painful, but alas, it must be done. The month is almost over, and I absolutely must get this 50k!!!

SAVIOR FALLING

Part XI: The Calm Before

"What is your group questing for?" Keldorn sat down across from Kysis, setting his bowl down on the small round table. This was not a topic he wished to discuss with Keldorn, of all people, though it would be necessary, if they kept the aging paladin with them. Eventually, everything would come out anyway. Kysis did not want Keldorn to find out about his heritage the same way Aerie had, from the mouth of another. Now was not the right time though.

"A dear childhood friend of mine, Imoen, is being held by the Cowled Wizards. I seek her release." Kysis stared down at the table, frowning. Imoen was not dear, though she was considered a friend, at least vaguely. They had grown closer on the road than they ever were within Candlekeep's walls. Imoen was always trying to pull pranks on monks and honored guests in the grand library, while Kysis had constantly been studying the tomes within, vying for another scrap of knowledge when he was not with the guards training or…

Kysis let his thoughts trail off, a thin smile tracing his lips.

Thankfully, Keldorn seemed to take it as nostalgia concerning Imoen. "I see that she means a great deal to you. What happened, that she ended up in the clutches of the Cowled Wizards?" His aged voice was filled with worry, warm, almost comforting. "They are the law here, and I would not wish to cross the law, as you certainly understand."

"Yes, I understand." Kysis strummed his fingers on the wooden table for a moment, lips pursed. Paladins were bound to the law. If Kysis did not believe whole heartedly that this imprisonment was not entirely legal, that there was something else going on here, he would not have pursued Imoen's freedom, childhood companion or no. It was how Imoen was taken, with who, and the fact that there was no trial, no way for Imoen to speak up, that drove him on. Kysis hoped Keldorn would understand that. "Do you know anything of the events at Waukeen's Promenade?"

"The collapse? I heard of it, though I was making preparations for my quest against the cult at that time, so I did not pay very much attention. However, I did see the aftermath. Those mages collapsed a whole end of the Promenade." Keldorn was entirely oblivious, that much obvious to Kysis.

"The mage who did the damage to the Promenade, routed the attacking Shadow Thieves and slaughtered those Cowled Wizards is named Jon Irenicus. Up until recently, he was my captor. He... did things to me which I would rather not recall. We narrowly escaped his lair before the collapse of the Promenade, only to be confronted by the mage himself. Imoen attacked him to help protect us, not knowing we were in Athkatla, much less Amn." Kysis fidgeted in his seat. He did not like talking about this, but forced himself to. "She was arrested with Irenicus and carted away by the Cowls as well.

Keldorn let out a long sigh, leaning on the table. "I assume the Cowled Wizards did not give any offer of fair trial or any sort of chance for Imoen to explain herself?"

"No. Irenicus tortured Imoen as well, and I fear what he may yet do to her, in custody or not. This man, he killed many of my companions, brutally, caged the others, like a waiting list for death and--"

"Speak no more. I can hear the fright in your voice and do not wish to be the cause of it. Kysis, you have my sword under your command, so long as you follow the righteous path."

"Thank you, Keldorn." Kysis tried to force a smile, though it did not even form. The memory of their stay under the Promenade, of what Irenicus did to him and his companions, weighed too heavily on him. Kysis could not push it away, despite how he tried. "I am trying to gather a large sum of gold. There is a group which approached me, offering to help me find Imoen if I paid them. I almost have it, but... I worry about what this organization might be."

"Ah, yes, a good thing to be wary of in this city. The Shadow Thieves operate here unchecked, as do the Cowled Wizards. I doubt the Cowls would give up one of their prisoners for money alone, though I would not put it past them to take bribes. The Shadow Thieves have whole rivers of gold, I am sure." Keldorn leaned back, thoughtful. Anomen sat down at the table, a bowl in hand. He ate and watched them equally, something Kysis disliked, but would humor.

"I do not think Imoen is being held here in the city. Wherever it is, the journey to her freedom will be a long one." Kysis glanced over at Anomen, having to fight not to frown at him. It was difficult, but somehow he managed. "Do you have a family?"

"Yes, though I have not seen them in a while." Keldorn stirred the slop in his own bowl, glowering at it. "My family has an estate in the government district. I have a wife and two daughters. They understand and support my duty to the Order."

It sounded like Keldorn was trying to convince himself more than convince Kysis. That was most likely. "I have almost gathered this amount, so we are bound to depart soon. I want to check in with Nalia on her Keep, to insure that everything is fine and rebuilding has continued. After that, I am going to see what else I can do to garner gold."

"In that case, I will return to my family to bid them farewell for now. When you return to Athkatla, I will no doubt be in my quarters at the Order. Anomen will know where to find me." Keldorn smiled. It was a warm gesture which reached his eyes. Kysis felt slightly better, though it did nothing to alleviate the pressure he was feeling to reveal his largest of secrets: his heritage.

Kysis took to staring down at the table instead, hands wringing together. "We will meet you there." As much as he did not want to go back to the Order headquarters, Keldorn was a good, strong paladin. It would be good to have him as an ally. Kysis was not willing to find another mage, not after what happened with Aerie, and intelligent, moral fighters were hard to find. Yes, Keldorn was the only option.

If he wanted to return to the De'Arnise Keep before sundown, he would have to leave now. Kysis excused himself knowing this, seeking out Jaheira and Yoshimo to inform them of his plans before heading off.

0 0 0 0 0

Nalia happily greeted them at the gates, once again in the somewhat plain attire they had first met her in. At first the worry did not show through, but soon enough, it was laid plain before them. She was worried about Lord Roenall, his son whom she was technically betrothed to, and what Amnish law might decree in the matter, considering she was no lord, and there was none to designate for the lands. Rebuilding was going well, but there was only so much Nalia could do. She was not sure if the commoners on her land would side with her if such a question of authority and rule was raised.

Kysis wished there was something he could do. He was a paladin, and wanted always to serve justice, to protect the defenseless, and yet, the way Nalia painted it, he would be worthless in this situation. If he was merely a mercenary, a fighting man with no other code to follow, he might be of use, but as it stood... Kysis did not know why she would want someone who was potentially baseless to help her rule over the lands as a temporary steward, but he would not argue with her.

"Just know, if the integrity of these lands are questioned, you may call on me." Kysis watched Nalia, eyes following the nervous motion of her pacing. It was very unladylike, but he doubted Nalia cared. She did not seem to care for most noble pretenses, after all.

"So Cernick keeps reminding me. Every problem in the Keep and he's always suggesting that you can help, that you will know what to do. I know you are busy, though, and I do not want to pull you from your own quests." Nalia plopped down at the chair she stopped before, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I just wish I could get rid of the Roenalls all together and just be done with it!" She threw her hands up in the air, the gesture seeming to relax some of her tension, at least.

"I wish there was more I could do. As you have stated, I am not a suitable temporary steward of the lands." Kysis pursed his lips. He was more than a capable warrior. There had to be some other reason. "If you wish me to stay here in the Keep for a while longer, it can be arranged. I have no previous duties or arrangements, though I will have to send message to my companions so they know where I am."

Only Jaheira and Yoshimo had accompanied him out to the Keep. Jaheira was currently somewhere out in the surrounding woods, communing with nature somehow or another. Yoshimo was... Kysis did not know where Yoshimo was. So long as the rogue did not get himself into any trouble, or thief anything from their host, Kysis would not ask. It was probably for the best that way.

"That could work, though I heard from Cernick that you are trying to save a friend of yours from the Cowled Wizards. You know, if you need a mage with you, I—"

"Keldorn is an Inquisitor of the Order and will be accompanying my group for the time being. If we are to come into conflict with any magic users, I am sure he can handle it." Kysis did not mean to speak so sternly, but it did come out curt, cold. If anything, Kysis would rather have taken Cernick with them than Nalia. Cernick was obviously experienced on the battle field, as had been demonstrated during the freeing of the Keep. As for whether Nalia knew what to do in combat was an entirely different matter, and a risk he would rather not take.

"Of course." Nalia forced a smile. It looked fake, harsh. She tapped her fingers nervously on the table, chewing at her lip before she finally stood again, starting to pace. Kysis tried not to watch the frenetic motions lest he feel nauseous. "It is just so hard, being here alone, having to deal with all of these problems. I don't know how my father managed! Oh, but he had my aunt around, not that she was much help, and me too. Everyone loved him so much."

Kysis could not exactly empathize with her, considering the fact that she was in the lap of luxury and did not have to do any of the rebuilding herself. She hired people for it. It made his stomach churn, thinking about how little nobles truly did, and how they reaped the benefits. Such was life, though, all the more so in Amn.

"In time, the people will come to love you as well. You must be willing to show them your compassion, though." Kysis tried at a smile himself, its coming out warm, charismatic. It was simple with him, like a switch. It always had been, though it was harder and harder since what Irenicus did to make a real smile. "Have faith."

"The problem is that I don't have faith like you and that cleric that travels with you and this paladin you've managed to find as well! I don't have faith. After what happened in this Keep, I don't know if I can." Nalia sat again, fidgeting. Her red brows drew in, frustration showing clearly in the creased skin between them.

"You aren't alone." Kysis tried to force the bitterness from his voice, but failed. "I did not mean a literal sort of faith where one prays for guidance from a god above. The gods exist but... none of them would openly welcome me, so in a way, I understand. Just don't give up, guidance or no."

With a huff and a roll of her eyes, Nalia stood, leaving the room. Kysis watched her go, not exactly surprised, but at the same time frustrated. He was perhaps the only paladin without a declared god, and that fact always confused whoever actually found out. Most people never even noticed, since Kysis could call on the same abilities as most paladins. People automatically assumed he was affiliated with Torm, Tyr, perhaps even Helm, though that was far less common. It was no surprise that Nalia refused to believe him.

If only she knew why, she might understand.

0 0 0 0 0

There was a tap on his shoulder, Kysis turning to see Yoshimo step out of the shadows. He was obviously practicing, which was a good thing. Kysis wanted them to be prepared for whatever might come. Thankfully, Yoshimo's random appearances and disappearances into shadow were no longer causing him to jump, making the whole process easier.

"I have noticed that you are quite light on your feet for a paladin, and very well balanced. It is a wonder you never took to my profession." Yoshimo grinned warmly, knowing full well that it was a back-handed compliment, considering Kysis' morals and Yoshimo's apparent lack of them. Whichever way the wind blew, Yoshimo went. That was something Kysis understood and tried to respect, though it was very difficult at times. "Now, don't get me wrong, you are a great paladin, but you could have a better advantage in battle."

"What are you implying?" Kysis glanced down the hall behind Yoshimo, seeing a servant pass into a room down there, another walking by without a glance at them. The De'Arnise staff was almost used to them now. It was not something Kysis could get used to. There was no home after Candlekeep.

"That, with a little fine tuning, you would be holy vengeance on the battle field, no moral smearing required." Yoshimo chuckled, offering a hand out to shake. Hesitantly, Kysis took it, being mindful of the ring on his finger. Yoshimo did not even try slipping it off, thankfully, otherwise there might have been holy vengeance to pay. "Shall we?"

"Where to?" Kysis pulled his hand back, checking over the sword at his side. He was glad he had not taken it off yet. The room he was using, the Lord De'Arnise's room once again, was at the other end of the Keep, a trek he was not entirely keen on making at the moment.

"The main courtyard would give us the space you need." Yoshimo turned and led the way, not once slipping into the darkness which hugged the narrow Keep hallways. They descended the main staircase and were soon out into the brightly lit Keep courtyard, a place Kysis was certain the rogue would feel uncomfortable in. Yoshimo drew his katana, a bright streak in the sunlight. The speed at which he did it was what surprised Kysis the most.

Kysis drew his own sword, the long, straight blade not allowing for the same kind of speed, nor had he ever really cared for the type of pace Yoshimo was talking about. Most enemies they had faced were slow to some degree, relying on brute force. His quickness on his feet had not been required, though it might give him a larger advantage than he was giving it credit for. He would have to see.

"You do not have to sacrifice accuracy for speed, you know. Do not look so pensive." Yoshimo laughed again. He truly was carefree. Then again, Kysis doubted he had really lost anyone in his life, or at least not anyone who mattered to him. Most bounty hunters were not so jolly, after all. Kysis wondered what he had been doing in Athkatla in the first place.

That was probably none of his business, though he always liked to know more about his companions than they often knew about him.

"Come at me." Yoshimo dropped into his ready stance, katana raised. Kysis assumed his own stance, quickly being corrected. He had gained no real formal training, not like Yoshimo back in Kara-Tur, so everything had been learned on the field, and as he was being informed, learned incorrectly. Stance modified, Kysis charged, Yoshimo ducking and rolling, coming up beside Kysis. The paladin had to stumble to block Yoshimo's next blow, footing unstable at best as he moved backward. When they pulled apart, swords at their sides, Yoshimo spoke again. "You have to be willing to use all planes available to you. Your enemies will show no mercy."

They attacked again, Kysis keeping up better this time, Yoshimo pausing now and then to correct the direction of a slice, change Kysis' grip on the hilt of his sword. The sun's angle had changed in the sky when they were done, both breathing hard, a thin trickle of sweat running down Kysis' temple.

"One more time."

Kysis nodded, rushing once more. Yoshimo dropped, foot swiping. Kysis jumped, landing in a roll behind Yoshimo. The thief quickly spun to block his attack, returning with a flurry, all easily knocked aside. Kysis rotated, thrusting his blade quickly right, left, right, and right again. Yoshimo twisted out of the first three, barely blocking the last one. The thief vaulted backwards, Kysis charging again, dropping into a slide before he reached Yoshimo. He sliced at the ankles, Yoshimo jumping and cutting downward. Kysis blocked with a bracer, blow vibrating painfully through his arm; it would bruise, nothing more. Using the pommel of his sword as a pivot point, Kysis swung around standing to start another round of attacks.

When they finally stopped, a lone applause reached their ears. Kysis and Yoshimo both turned in tandem, Jaheira standing there, clapping.

"That was impressive. I see you are really coming into your own now, Kysis." Jaheira was smiling, the first real one Kysis had recalled seeing since their capture.

"Thank you, Yoshimo." Kysis turned his appreciative look towards Yoshimo, who merely laughed.

"If you ever want to spar like that again, don't hesitate to ask. I need a good work out now and then." Yoshimo sheathed his sword, quickly walking off. That left Kysis and Jaheira alone. Her smile faded almost immediately.

"You are getting stronger daily." Jaheira did not sound entirely happy about it, not even pretending such a sentiment. "Your dark father's blood, or you?"

"Me." Kysis sheathed his own blade, trying not to glare. "I want nothing to do with my father or his dark gifts."

"That is good to hear. I was worried."

"You shouldn't be." Kysis was snapping more and more often lately. Especially at Jaheira. He was sure she had noticed it. "I'm fine."

Unwilling to start a debate on whether he actually was fine or not, Kysis turned, leaving the courtyard as well. He did not want to ask her to leave the group, but if this continued, he would have to.

0 0 0 0 0

After a day, Anomen joined them at the Keep. He was bearing a new helm, something enchanted to enhance charisma, a gift from the priests for helping liberate them from the Unseeing Eye. Kysis told Anomen to keep the helm with a smile; Anomen certainly needed its effects far more than he did. The cleric thankfully did not take it as an insult, however, quite smitten with a new helm to replace his plain, dinged one.

Around midday Kysis had Anomen send a message to the Order, to be given to Keldorn upon his arrival, unless they got to the Order first. That was always a possibility, since Kysis did not intend to stay at the Keep very long.

With Yoshimo's help, he went through all of their acquired items, sorting them out, guessing prices they could sell them for back at Athkatla. According to Yoshimo, Kysis' natural charisma would help them in negotiating the prices up, and supplies would get discounts other, unlucky customers would not be privy to. At first, Kysis had asserted this was hardly fair, to which Yoshimo rebutted that they needed the money, one way or another. That promptly ended Kysis' argument.

The rebuilding of the Keep itself was going well, though the lands surrounding were still having many issues. Nalia asked him to talk to a few of the "guests" which arrived with complaints, and he easily, perhaps too easily, soothed their fears and sent them on their way. He surveyed the fortification of the Keep itself, the progress in the cellars. They were being sealed up quite nicely.

Though Kysis did not want to stay and cause further disruption in the Keep, Nalia insisted they stay. It did help, not having to pay for rooms and food, being able to regroup, finally get rest which the cots in the back of the Copper Coronet did not provide. Kysis appreciated it, though he wished he could actually express his gratitude with more than hollow words.

"I saw you and Yoshimo sparring in the courtyard again. You two are amazing." Nalia broke the silence of their breakfast, Kysis looking up. She was meaning it as a compliment, though it made Kysis feel somewhat awkward. "Do you think you can go to the barracks? Not as a guard, but they have their routines in the morning and it would be an honor for you to help them." Nalia's nervous manner of speech, so unsure of herself, always sounding rattled, was setting him on edge.

The prospect of helping train the De'Arnise guards was exactly what he was looking for, a way to repay her without the exchange being at all monetary. However, the details of the proposition made his breath catch, though he tried to hide it. A slight flush dusted Kysis' cheeks, and he had to find a way to quickly explain it. Both Nalia and Jaheira were staring at him now.

"You flatter me. Really, it would be an honor for you to allow me access to your guards in such a way. I am glad to have your trust, and finally a way to return your kindness." Kysis cleared his throat, glancing quickly at Jaheira and then back down at his food.

Working with the guards would be an honor. He would be able to help them, and in turn, some day, perhaps help the needy because of it. The thought of being in close proximity with Cernick, with the captain of the guard's eyes carefully tracing his every movement and position, was what made his heart flutter. Kysis had to steer his mind quickly away from the thought of them both being exerted and sweaty before his flush deepened any.

"When do they do their routines?" Kysis quickly stuffed another bite into his mouth, concentrating on chewing.

"About an hour after their breakfast. Not everyone participates, as there need to be guards on duty at all times, but most of them will be there. Cernick usually leads them, but I'm sure he won't mind you taking his place for a day."

No, Kysis was sure he wouldn't mind at all. Kysis smiled, if weakly. "I'll make sure to be there."

"Oh, good!" Nalia clapped in joy, beaming now. She was quite clueless about the full situation, and that was for the best. As Cernick had stated, the others would not understand, nor would they be accepting. The fewer people who knew about them, the better. "I'll go tell him right now!"

Before Kysis could protest and express that he would like the deliver the message himself, Nalia was up from the table and gone to the barracks. He was looking forward to this as much as he was regretting it, having to concentrate hard on his food to quell his jitters. This could either go incredibly well or terribly bad. Only actually getting there and doing it would tell.

0 0 0 0 0

With a huff, Kysis lowered his sword, sheathing it slowly, reverently. The blade itself was barely enchanted, but it was a habit he had formed with his previous sword, a habit he was not likely to break any time soon. Kysis flexed his hands, fingers slightly stiff. He should have been used to it by now.

Not that long ago, he had been living peacefully in Candlekeep. Sometimes he trained with the local guards, but that was his only contact with a sword. His palms were calloused now, fingers rougher. At first, his hands had blistered from having to use the sword so often, an act he was not used to, still not entirely comfortable with. Before, death had been something he read about in books. Now he got to witness it, time and again.

Training with the guards was nostalgic in a way, only the roles were reversed. Kysis was no longer the awed pupil, now acting as the knowing instructor. It did not sit entirely right with him. Very little did these days.

"Are you ok?"

Kysis turned, a fake smile on his lips before he could stop it. That was another habit he was not likely to break soon. Even with Cernick, whom he felt understood a little better than the others, despite their fleeting moments together, was given that same treatment out of reflex. "I'm fine." Kysis could not help that response, either, as much as he just wanted to lean against Cernick, tell him everything that was wrong. The words were grated out anyway. It was how he had survived this long.

Cernick watched him for a moment longer, hazel eyes full of warmth, so welcoming, trying to draw out all of his maladies. Kysis looked away. It was all he could do to preserve their public appearance. Cernick brushed past him, pausing a moment to whisper, "I am here if you need me." And then he was gone.

For a while Kysis lingered in the barracks, watching the guards as they came and went, listening to their talk, which was mostly light hearted. They were so alive, in there, so happy. Kysis closed his eyes, soaking it in. It was around midday when he finally left the barracks, passing the food hall with little interest. His other companions were in there, eating with Nalia, but Kysis was not hungry.

His legs carried him upstairs of his own accord, and soon a bath was being drawn for him. Kysis went into the room alone, hanging a cloth to dry himself off with to the side, laying out the clothing Nalia had gifted to him. There were going to be guests at the Keep for dinner, so she had told him, at dinner the night before, that he needed to dress the part of a noble. She had to keep up pretenses, lest people question her mental capacity and side with the Roenalls.

With a long sigh, Kysis sank into the steaming hot water, relishing in its feel against his clammy skin. He was paler now than he was before, despite the time he spent outside, in the sun. One day Kysis had sat in the sun for a prolonged amount of time, only to come in and be just as ashen. His eyes looked less and less sapphire blue as well, more grey streaking his irises. They almost looked entirely grey now, which bothered him more than he cared to admit.

He was just waiting patiently for claws to pop out from his fingers and fangs to emerge in his mouth.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, Kysis cupping his hands, pulling water out of the bath. He watched the glistening droplets trickle out from the gaps in his hands, from between fingers, fixating on it for a moment before splashing it on his face, running his hands back over his platinum hair. Kysis kept his eyes closed, breathing in deeply. The hot water felt good on his cool skin.

Kysis heard the feet outside of the private bathing room before he heard the door open, head turning slightly. His back was to the door, something he seldom did, if ever. He could have sworn that he had locked it… Cernick slid inside, closing the door behind him. Kysis heard the click of the latch sliding in place.

"I would have knocked, but…" Cernick swallowed harshly, staring at Kysis, his back, for a moment before looking hastily away. "I'll go."

"It's fine. What do you need?" Kysis stared down at the water. It was mostly clear, something Kysis was becoming increasingly more self-conscious about. Kysis grabbed the soap from the stand beside the free-standing tub, bringing it into the water and rubbing. The water became murkier immediately, suds rising to the top like a protective screen.

"Something was bothering you earlier."

Kysis lowered his head, crystalline droplets of water flicking off his nose, tumbling back into the tub. It was Kysis' turn to try swallowing at a lump in his throat; it would not go away. He was not surprised. What exactly was it that weighed so heavily on his mind? Kysis lifted the bar of soap, lathering his right arm, shoulder.

Footsteps drew close, followed by the unmistakable creak of armor. Cernick tugged off his gloves, tucking them in his belt before taking the bar of soap. He gently rubbed it against Kysis' right shoulder, across his back, to his other shoulder. Great care was taken with all of it. Kysis sucked in a deep breath, holding it. That did not slow the sudden hammering of his heart.

"You are tense." Cernick brought the soap down Kysis' left arm, leaving suds in its wake. He massaged the bar back up Kysis' arm before letting it dip onto his chest, fingers brushing pale flesh here and there.

"Do I look human to you?"

Cernick's ministrations paused for a moment, just long enough to alert Kysis of the shock the captain of the guard must have been feeling. Yes, Cernick knew, but that knowledge was still fresh, despite the time he had to mull over it. Kysis did not like that hesitation one bit.

"Yes… for the most part. Your beauty is ethereal." Cernick kissed lightly the shell of Kysis' left ear, and then his cheek, lips lingering. His hand slid lower, rubbing the bar of soap over Kysis' firm abdomen. Cernick's hand was in the water now, surface coming just under the line of Cernick's armor. Cernick's hand slipped lower.

Kysis recoiled.

"You're shaking all over. Kysis… I'm sorry. I didn't…" Cernick pulled his hand from the water, setting the soap on its stand by the tub. He was about to go. Kysis lunged forward, grabbing Cernick's hand, lacing their fingers together. It was a pleading look he gave Cernick, which spoke louder than any words he could possibly offer. "Oh Kysis."

Immediately, Cernick pulled him in to a hug, Kysis flinching at the feel of the guard's armor on his wet skin. Cernick seemed to realize how awkward and uncomfortable it was, pulling back with a sheepish grin.

"Where I am going, I may not come back alive." Kysis pursed his lips, watching the water again. It had cleared just slightly, suds receding. He shifted uncomfortably. "If I die, will you—"

Cernick pressed a finger to Kysis' lips, hushing him, before replacing that digit with his own mouth. The kiss was slow, tender, reassuring. Cernick was the one to pull back, if just barely, lips touching when he spoke. "Then I want us to part with no regrets." The next kiss was rougher, needier, tongue thrust into Kysis' mouth, lips mashing until they vaguely hurt. Cernick reached for the buckles of his armor, fumbling with them, Kysis quickly helping, tugging, pulling.

They had to part for a few breathless moments as pieces of armor were flung off, lips crashing together again. It did not feel soon enough when Cernick's tunic was finally stripped off, the Captain of the Guard stepping out of his pants.

Kysis sucked in a nervous breath, heart fluttering as he saw clearly the effect of their heated kisses on Cernick, bobbing before him. The guard blushed, stepping gently into the water as to not slosh it everywhere. The water level rose to Kysis' chest, bobbing just below pert, pink nipples. Cernick's fingers were on them in a moment, just brushing at first before squeezing, twisting, tugging.

With a low moan, stifled by the biting of his lip, Kysis reclined against the tub wall, giving Cernick free range. Cernick hungrily took it.

They were not going to part with any lingering regrets.