A.N. This is a Raoul/Wyldon story. Yeah, that's right, you read that correctly. Unless I miss my guess, this is the only Raoul/Wyldon story on ff.net. There's also a bit of Gary/Raoul and Wyldon/OC in here. It's not that I really support this 'ship, I wrote this for the Sick F*** Faction's Biannual writing contest on the Dancing Dove forums. Anyway, even though I don't support this ship I do like the dynamics that are seen between Wyldon and Raoul, both in Tammy's books and in other fanfic writers' fics. Eh, like it or hate it, here it is.   

He gritted his teeth as he glared at the dice.

"Tough luck, Cavall. Good luck getting Goldenlake home before dawn."

The other two knights laughed as they slung the groom-to-be between them and slowly made their way out of the smoky tavern.

            He looked over to the table in the corner where Raoul of Goldenlake lay slumped over, a large pitcher of wine cupped between the young man's huge hands. Wyldon wrinkled his nose in disgust as he surveyed the scene. How had he gotten stuck with this duty? He should have left hours ago, more the fool he was to have stayed past the third round of drinks. But the king had asked him as one of the more "senior" and, as he put it "more responsible" knights, to make sure nothing went wrong on the eve of Gareth of Naxen's nuptials. If the groom's closest friend didn't show up the morning of the wedding that would certainly be a problem. He had to do his duty.

            But how in Mithros name was he going to get Goldenlake back to the palace and into to bed at this time of night? Wyldon pondered this for a moment and decided it was impossible. He sighed and signaled to a serving maid. Hopefully the innkeeper would have a room available for the night and he could return in the morning to collect Raoul.

            The innkeeper came over and jabbered at him. Yes, he would be very happy to house such a dignified personage such as the Commander of the King's Own and would be pleased to do so at a very low price-

            "Good," said Wyldon irritably as he fished out the coins, he didn't care about the cost, his majesty would no doubt reimburse him for his troubles if he asked. Stepping over another drunkard, this one unlucky enough to be one the floor, he and the innkeeper made his way over to the passed-out knight.

            Wyldon prodded the sleeping giant, "Let's go, Goldenlake," he said gruffly. Raoul raised his head and opened a bleary eye. He grunted. Wyldon took that as a yes and hauled him up roughly. Slowly, he and the innkeeper made their way out of the tavern and up the stairs to the empty room.      

            The innkeeper departed after Raoul was safely on the bed. Wyldon considered what to do as he glanced over at the bed at the fully dressed knight. Wyldon sighed; he should probably take off Goldenlake's boots at least. Yes, he would do that; then he was going to leave, he wasn't the man's damn valet.

            Gingerly, he stepped over to the bed and quickly unlaced Raoul's boots, wincing at the stench. He covered his nose as he dumped the boots on the floor. Goldenlake was going to owe him for this! 

            Wyldon started for the door and then stopped. He turned around; he had the feeling that he had forgotten to do something. Raoul looked as innocent as a young boy sleeping after a full day's play. His dark curls were in a tumble and his cheeks were a bright apple red. He should have been reeking of alcohol but there was only a faint scent of wine. He must have the metabolism of an ox, thought Wyldon wryly. Following an impulse, Wyldon bent down and kissed him gently on his forehead. Then, feeling foolish he stood up quickly. Raoul muttered something.

            "What?" whispered Wyldon, leaning over so he could better hear what Raoul was saying.

            "Love you, Gary," said Raoul sleepily. Wyldon stiffened in shock but before he could move Raoul flung his arms around his neck and pulled him closer… Stunned, Wyldon let himself surrender to Raoul's clumsy but well-meant kiss. He stayed that way for a few heartbeats and then a small voice whispered in his mind, Alaric. Wyldon pulled away from Raoul abruptly, silently thanking that small voice. At the same time though, a traitorous part of him resented the voice. But he wasn't going to lapse again; he had sworn he wouldn't.

            He glanced down at Raoul, so, he and Gary? There had been whispers that their relationship had been more but Wyldon had dismissed it as malicious court gossip. And once Gareth had announced his upcoming nuptials there had been no more talk. That had silenced the gossip on Naxen's part but Goldenlake had best learn to be more careful.

            Raoul slept on, oblivious to Wyldon's musings. Wyldon closed his eyes for a moment and then stood up. He went to the desk in the corner of the room and quickly penned a short letter. A short while later he left the room, the letter in plain view for Raoul to find in the morning.

*                                                          *                                                            *

The next morning Wyldon stood outside the temple door as he watched the guests for the wedding arrive. Goldenlake came up beside him, face pale and obviously feeling the effects of a hangover.

"The Lioness wouldn't give you any of her hangover brew?" asked Wyldon as looked on at the still suffering Raoul.

"No," growled Raoul, "she said it's my own fault for drinking too much last night."

"As rare as it is for me to agree with her, in this case I must concur," answered Wyldon.

There was an awkward silence "I, uh, I mean, thank you for your letter last night," said Raoul guardedly and he gave a sideways glance as if trying to gauge Wyldon's reaction to his statement.

"You're welcome," Wyldon answered politely, his face giving nothing away.

"I just want you to know, once Gary announced his engagement to Cythera, our, uh, relationship, uh, changed," said Raoul desperately.

"I really don't see how this is any of my business," said Wyldon, starting to regret his involvement. All of this was starting remind him of his memories with Alaric and this he did not want. He started to turn away but Raoul caught his sleeve.

"I,- how do I move on, what do I do now?" asked Raoul softly.

"How should I know?" asked Wyldon coldly but then he relented, seeing the loneliness in Raoul's eyes and remembering his own questions.

"It will be hard, but you will get through it. Try to spend as much time away from him as possible without arousing suspicion. If possible, avoid being in a room alone with him. Above all, mention it to no one," said Wyldon harshly. Then, more quietly, "It is the honorable thing to do."

Raoul bowed his head briefly in thanks. Wyldon nodded in response and began to leave.

"Cavall," came the voice behind him. He sighed and turned once more.

"Is it possible to find someone else –later?" came the hesitant question.

Wyldon stopped breathing for a moment, trying to find the best response. Finally, he simply shook his head.

Raoul's eyes widened for a second and then he answered. "I understand. Thank you for your time. I think I'll go in now." He bowed quickly and walked past Wyldon into the temple.

Wyldon stood there, gazing mutely at the place where Raoul had been. He wondered if the turmoil of emotions roiling through him were those of relief or if they were feelings of regret. Whatever they were, he had past a test inside himself; he had done what honor demanded .