Title: As They Turn From Praise
Author: Tiamat's Child
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: The Histories of King Kelson
Pairing: Denis Arilan/Thomas Cardiel, very lightly implied.
Disclaimer: The bishops are Kathrine Kurtz's, not mine, and the same goes for all of the rest of the court mentioned.
Summary: Sidana is dead, but there are still things that must be done for the living.
Notes: Spoilers through The Bishop's Heir. For my friend Poppy, on the occasion of the discovery that in about nine months there will be a Poppyling! Yea! It's not the story I originally intended to use for the purpose, but that one is dragging its feet, so I'm going to try to get it done for my birthday instead.
As They Turn From Praise
It falls to Arilan to help Thomas out of his ruined robes and wash the poor girl's blood from his body. Thomas is in no fit state to be the comfort that his rank demands he be, and Arilan will not have him shamed by having anyone other than a friend see him this vulnerable. Not, of course, that it would occur to Thomas to think of it in those terms, but Arilan knows that it would haunt him if he abandoned his friend now.
Neither of them, thank heaven, are needed right now. Nigel can deal with the boy, Morgan, Duncan, and Dughal have Kelson firmly in hand, and preparing Sidana's body for burial is a woman's task. Arilan's only responsibility is to recover enough sense by tomorrow to give the last rites to the boy, and perform the funeral for the girl.
Arilan takes Thomas to one of the small storage rooms tucked into the cathedral. A few quick words passed with a nervous young priest and he had the water needed to clean Thomas enough to get him safely to his apartments. And, of course, there are always extra clothes in rooms like these, even if no one intended them to be used in that manner.
Thomas makes a brief attempt at helping with buttons, but his hands drift slowly, and he shudders when his fingers brush against the blood that soaks the cloth, so Arilan takes his hands and guides them back down to his sides. "I'll do it," he says, and Thomas nods. Arilan isn't certain his words were really understood, but Thomas stands still and lets Arilan undress him as swiftly and gently as he knows how.
Thomas is drenched in Sidana's blood. It's not as bad as Kelson, who was barely recognizable under all that gore when Dughal led him out, but it still covers him, having soaked through his robes in places, reaching down to mark his skin. Arilan knows that he has to get as much of it as he can ioff/i, and quickly. Thomas's mind is drowning under the horror of it, and while Arilan could go after him if he retreats inside himself he doesn't want to have to. It would be a violation of trust, somehow, to enter Thomas' mind when he cannot reveal himself in the same manner.
Arilan does not bother to try to salvage the discarded robes. He lets them fall, then kicks them viciously into a corner. His own hands are branded with red now. He takes a deep breath to steady his suddenly shaky limbs. He's been in worse situations. He'll be all right. Thomas, on the other hand… Thomas he needs to take care of.
"Thomas, sit." he pulls the other man down to sit on one of the stools scattered about. This small room is apparently being used for more than its intended purpose of storage. Part of his mind tucks this away as an observation that bears further inquiry, even as the rest of him shoves it aside as irrelevant and distracting from the task at hand.
He takes a rag, and the water, and swiftly wipes off his own hands before going to wash the blood off of Thomas' skin. He won't be any help to Thomas if he's bloodied himself. But once Arilan is clean he can clean Thomas, and the touch is soothing to both of them.
Thomas's breathing slowly rights itself. Arilan can hear the change as each breath gentles, becomes silent and natural instead of audible and forced. Slowly, Thomas' tiny trembles cease, and, slowly, Arilan can sense him coming out of his shock, the full presence of Thomas' focus a light, comforting brush against his shields.
The amount of relief that Arilan feels is incredible. He drops the rag and straightens up, catching his friend's cheek in his palm. "I was worried." The words are barely more than breath, but Thomas hears them anyway. He could hardly avoid it, with how close the two of them are sitting. His hand covers Arilan's and he says,
"I'll be all right. It was only the shock, and her youth." Thomas shudders. "She was so afraid…"
Arilan is almost frightened at the intensity of the rush of love that swells through him at that. He makes no conscious decision to pull Thomas almost roughly into his arms, but before he has time to focus he is holding Thomas, and kissing his forehead. "Oh God, Thomas." There is no way to say any of this. He has to say something, to explain out loud things that he can barely hold in words in his mind without the sentences collapsing from the weight. And words are always so much more fragile when spoken, so he has no words to speak. He has no way to tell his friend that there is no one finer, no one he is prouder to know, because even those words cannot begin to tell it.
"I think he could have loved her." Thomas says, and Arilan's embrace tightens.
He'd been so afraid. So very afraid, in that brief flash of time when anything was possible, that the boy would turn on Thomas, as well. For the space of a heartbeat that was all there was, that overwhelming terror of Thomas' blood spilled out on the steps and the unending span of absolute loneliness that would follow. Rational thought rapidly reasserted itself, and he knew that Thomas was safe, but there was that instant and he thinks himself quite justified naming it one of the worst moments of his life.
"Oh God, Thomas, I love you." And he knows that he can't make Thomas understand what he means, and, in truth, he doesn't wish to, because it is much easier this way, but the words are true, all the ways that Thomas chooses to take them, they are true.
"I know. I love you, too." So easily said, so gentle, so very like Thomas, and he doesn't quite know how he came to be a part of this thing that they have between them, but he is glad that he is. Arilan clings to Thomas for a moment longer, and then pulls back, returning to business.
"We'd better get you back to your rooms and a bath."
Thomas nods, and takes the hand Arilan offers to help him up. Thomas gets dressed slowly, and if Arilan looks a bit longer than he should, and touches more than he needs to, well, who's to care?
After all, they've both had a very trying day.