Sunshower

by foggynite

SIII. BorusPercy YAOI. Don't like, don't read. Borus finds himself confused and having to come to terms with certain events.

Title: Sunshower
By foggynite
Fandom: Suikoden III
Pairing: Borus/Percy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Boy gets boy. Boy freaks and doesn't know what to do with boy. Boy has to figure it all out. Angst and schmoop and maybe something resembling a plot ensues.
Notes: So when you can investigate the characters of the game, the kid says that Borus loves wine and gets angry when you ask about the grandparents who raised him. Combine that with the fact that he's obviously a nobleman, yet is called "Sir" Borus, unlike Lord Salome and Lady Chris (Hey, I'm grasping for plot here), and I had enough to work with for a little AU. Takes place after the game, an AU wherein Percy never went back to his village and Borus didn't go out in the field as a cavalry leader. I took some liberties with Borus' family name. Just go with it.

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Borus awoke with a start, realizing first that he was in his own bed, then that he wasn't alone. He was trapped on his side, a well-muscled arm slung across his waist from behind, and the grip only tightened when he tried to move away.

"I see you're awake," Percy said into his neck, soft lips curving into a smile that Borus could feel against the back of his ear.

"We—ah—"His wits fled him. He was naked. With Percy. Naked with Percy, and oh goddess, Percy was naked too, and pressed against his back and warm and Borus could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. "Ah—"

"Yes?" Percy was using his smug tone, which made Borus blush even harder. Because Borus could remember the previous night—a new bottle of wine from Chisha, Percy showing up at his door smiling, passing the bottle back and forth, Percy leaning in and-- and Borus' sleep foggy brain derailed, leaving him a stuttering fool. Well, even more so like one.

Percy merely chuckled into the nape of his neck, hot breath stirring the little hairs. Borus was shivering, too incoherent to even worry about morning breath, and Percy pulled him closer, morning arousal painfully apparent.

That put Borus into motion as he flung back the sheets and wrenched himself from Percy's hold. It wasn't until he was halfway across the small room that he remembered he was naked and scrambled madly for his breeches, which had been carelessly tossed aside the night before.

Struggling to pull leather over clammy skin, he finally got the pants laced and turned to glare at Percy, who was stretched out across the bed starkers.

"What?" Borus snapped at the amused expression of the other knight.

"Nothing, dear heart. Just admiring the scenery," Percy said as he relaxed deeper into the bed, brown hair artfully tousled, pale skin teasingly exposed through the twisted sheets.

Borus swallowed and his traitorous heart reacted to the sigh before him. The thought that Percy could probably tell the effect he had on him led to another full body blush and he frantically turned away to find his shirt. Percy was letting him stew in the silence, eyes mocking and half-closed. And the more Borus thought about it, the angrier he became.

Who did Percy think he was? Borus wasn't some easy tavern wench to be debauched after a few drinks—oh goddess, was he debauched, though—and these were teeth marks on his wrist! What if someone else saw them? And his bum was sore—How could he ride like this?—and he couldn't find his damn shirt, so he settled for grabbing Percy's and shrugged into it, even though it hung a little too loosely from his smaller frame, and that just made him feel even more inexperienced and humiliated, and that made him furious and—

A heavy knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and the door opened before he could call out.

"Hey, Borus, have you seen Percival? We have training in—"Leo poked his head in the room and stopped when Percy waved from the bed. "There you are! No one could find you this morning. It's our turn to run the men through their paces, so you've got less than half an hour to get presentable."

"All right. I'll be there," Percy responded casually.

Leo opened his mouth to say something more, but noticed Borus' expression. He looked to Percy naked on the bed, the other knight smiling mischievously, then back to Borus.

"Right. Er—I'll just be going then." He closed the door tightly.

"And poor Leo learns a lesson in timing and tact," Percy narrated with a grin, which faded as Borus turned to face him, but the devilish twinkle never left his eyes.

"'No one' could find you? Just how many people did he ask?" A twitch was developing in Borus' left eye.

"I'm sure no one will pay any mind to us," Percy said innocently. "Although you might want to wear something with a high neck for a few days..."

Borus made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Fortunately for Percy, Borus' sword was next to the bed and wild horses couldn't have dragged him closer to the naked knight.

"You know, most people have a more favorable reaction to waking beside me." Percy's tone was teasing, but there was a question in his eyes. Borus was too flustered to notice.

"Do not group me with your whores!" He snapped and started searching for his boots. Percy sat up straighter on the bed, offended.

"Never once have I had to pay someone to lay with me, nor have I ever taken an unwilling partner." His voice was low, serious for once.

"Well, you seem to have taken me!" Borus accused heatedly, refusing to look at the bed.

"You weren't objecting last night," Percy shot back, rising from the mattress, letting the sheet slip away. Borus turned to retaliate, but shut his mouth with a clack of teeth and covered his eyes at the sight before him.

"By the goddess, will you put some clothes on, man?"

"What?"

At Percy's confused tone, Borus uncovered his eyes and hissed furiously, "Clothes, Percy!"

"Goddess, what a prude," Percy laughed at the order but was obviously becoming annoyed, which made Borus' already frayed temper snap.

"Will you just get out of my room? Get out!" Borus thought his skin would be permanently red after this.

"It's no use talking to you now anyway," Percy said with a frown, pulling his pants on in two rough jerks. He gathered his sword and boots, forgoing the shirt that Borus now wore, and left the room with a furious dignity Borus could never muster.

After the door slammed shut, Borus moved haltingly to the foot of the bed, gripping one of the posters. The mattress was rumpled, sheets on the floor. He shuddered at the sudden quiet and the fight went out of him.

Sinking down to the carpet, he pressed the knobs of his spine against the hardwood footboard. He was such an idiot. The one thing he had promised himself he would never do, and he gave in after a little wine. What a fool he was. His best friend, whom Borus knew from long acquaintance didn't put the same importance on sex that the blonde knight did. It probably hadn't meant anything to Percy, but Borus didn't do casual.

What had he been thinking? He hadn't been, obviously, because now he knew what he had been denying himself these years. He had also ruined the most important thing in his life.

"Idiot."

Drawing his knees to his chest, he let his head drop to his arms. He had woken up so warm he felt smothered, but it was now that he couldn't breathe.

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He didn't actively avoid Percy the next two days. Well, not really. He just rather tended to not be where he knew the other knight was. And apparently Leo knew how to keep his mouth shut, because no one had mentioned anything to Borus, about Percy or anything else, and the gossip mill wasn't grinding the two of them to a fine powder. Yet no one really questioned his current mind-state, which was one of irritability and sullen anger, and he almost felt guilty that most of Brass Castle was avoiding him like the plague.

Around noon on the second day of his estrangement from Percy, Borus was approached by Lord Salome in the stables. The blonde knight was supposed to be grooming his charger, but was actually just resting against the understanding steed, feeling miserable and not knowing how to fix anything.

"Are you unwell, Sir Borus?" Salome asked quietly as he leaned against the door to the charger's stall.

Borus tensed at the statement and stood straighter. "What makes you say that, my lord?"

"You've just seemed... off since yesterday morning." Salome's smile was gentle, so Borus couldn't take offense at the subtle rebuke.

"I suppose I overindulged myself the night before..." Borus conceded slowly, staring at the charger's smooth coat.

"Ah yes, you're latest shipment from Chisha, correct? You're a wine connoisseur, Sir Borus. Surely you know to drink a good vintage slowly, so that you might savor its full taste."

Borus gave the older knight a measuring glance, reading his face for any double meanings. After a beat, he shrugged. "Have no fear. I'll not make the same mistake twice."

Salome regarded him steadily for a moment, until Borus wanted to shuffle like an errant school child. Instead, the brash young knight turned to his mount and started furiously brushing out the already gleaming coat.

"It's all right to need people, Borus..."

By the time Borus turned to question the softly spoken statement, Lord Salome was gone.

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Dinner on the third night of their estrangement was an ordeal Borus preferred to forget. Normally, he would sit next to Percy and play the foil for the other knight's banter, but they'd barely exchanged greetings for the past three days.

By that point, the other four Zexen knights had picked up on the tension between their youngest members. Leo found himself stuck sitting next to Borus, who merely pushed his stew around with his bread, while the older knight bravely tried to engage the glowering blonde in conversation. Borus finally took pity on the nervous-looking man, and attempted to be pleasant.

That changed when Percy arrived with his dish, smiling amiably and taking the seat on Leo's other side. Borus refrained from scowling as his manners kept him from leaving the table early. He was painfully aware of Percy shoveling down his food and chatting casually with Leo about the newest recruits to the order. He hadn't a care in the world, apparently.

Borus wanted to hit something. Really hard. Then take his sword to it.

Roland was staring at him from across the table, watching with amusement as Borus repeatedly stabbed a chunk of meat on his plate.

"I believe it's dead by now, Sir Borus."

Borus merely glared at the elf knight and gave the beef cube another vicious jab.

"So I hear you have received a fine vintage from Chisha." Borus imagined Roland's smile was evil. "At least, according to Sir Percival, but he's hardly the resident expert, hm?"

Borus couldn't stop the heat from rising in his cheeks. On the other side of Leo, Percy had stopped speaking, apparently listening to Leo.

"Yes. It was a robust and well-balanced red. Very complex and spicy." Borus returned Roland's challenging gaze. "It was definitely one of my better purchases."

"Then perhaps you would be kind enough to share a taste with the rest of your beleaguered knights?"

"I would if I could, Sir Roland, but I fear there are no bottles left."

"Really?" Roland smirked. "What a pity..."

Somehow, Borus got the feeling that Roland came out the winner in that little exchange. The elf merely sipped at his ale tankard and glanced at Percy's profile. Borus scowled across at him and Roland smiled innocently this time, leaning back on the bench. Borus started mutilating a carrot.

There wasn't much to keep him occupied after he had mashed the remains of his dinner, which would have horrified his grandparents so he took a distinct pleasure in doing it, and he wasted a few more moments pretending to listen to the conversation between Lord Salome and Lady Chris further down the table. He vowed never to come to dinner early again. He was angry with himself for noticing every time Percy's hand came into his field of vision, or when the conversation with Leo became more animated. He was especially angry that Roland looked so damn smug.

When everyone was mostly finished, he judged that he could safely leave without being rude. He almost missed the servants at home, who would take your plate away and signify to everyone else that you were done.

As quietly as he could without being obvious, Borus gathered his plate and cup, and stood to leave.

"Going so soon?" Percy asked teasingly, the first full sentence he'd spoken to Borus since leaving his bedroom that fateful morning. He knew Borus hated drawing unnecessary attention to himself.

"I'm finished," he replied simply, with false casualness. Roland was studying them from across the table.

"Hmm." Was Percy's response as he turned back to Leo, dismissing Borus.

"Actually, Sir Borus," Lady Chris drew his attention to her end of the heavy wooden table. "I would like to speak with you in my study after dinner."

"Yes, my lady." Borus gave a slight bow with his hands full, and took his dishes to the kitchen. When he passed the table again on his way out, he purposefully didn't look at Percy.

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Lady Chris' study was dimly lit that late at night, but the room was warm and Borus was grateful. He stood at attention before her desk until recognized, and it was difficult to keep still with his fingers nearly frozen off.

"You wished to see me, my lady?"

"Yes, Sir Borus." Lady Chris looked up, expression serious. "I have a mission for you, but I'm going to wait for your shield-mate to arrive."

"Shield-mate?" Borus was confused. Normally his shield-mate would be Lady Chris herself, or Roland, and the elf was due for Vinay del Zexay the following morning.

A sharp knock came on her door, and Borus wanted to groan. He knew that knock. A mission with Percy. Well. Wasn't that just the height of coincidences? His eyes narrowed at Lady Chris, who ignored him.

"Come in, Sir Percival." Lady Chris was using her commander tone, which meant that any protests would fall on unsympathetic ears. Not that the knights would dare question her judgment.

Percy came in silently and saluted when he reached Borus' side. Neither knight looked at the other.

"I'll make this short, gentlemen." She leveled them with a stern look. "I have an extremely important mission for you. One that I cannot entrust to a mere messenger."

She brandished a sealed scroll. "You will leave at daybreak tomorrow in order to deliver this message to Lord Thomas. The journey to Budehuc should take less than two days. You will spend the night at his estate and return with his reply the following morning. Should he ask anything of you while you are there, you will comply. Understand?"

Both subordinates nodded and she smiled. "Try to rest up. The mission shouldn't be dangerous, really, but I need you to be alert. Dismissed."

Another salute and Borus turned sharply on his heel, leaving Percy standing there.

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The next morning was bright and cheerful, sunlight reflecting off freshly fallen snow. Borus greeted the guard on stable duty with a curt nod and went in to retrieve his horse. Percy was already whistling aimlessly as he secured his saddlebags.

"Is that all you're wearing?" Percy asked suddenly, motioning to the travel cloak draped over Borus' armor as the other knight stalked past him.

Frowning, Borus arched an eyebrow and untied his charger's reigns from the waiting post.

"Yes," he finally replied, tone churlish.

"Your face will freeze before we make it to the woods. Here." Percy lobbed something at his head and he caught it instinctively. It turned out to be his own scarf. When he looked questioningly at the brunette, Percy shrugged and said casually, "Noticed you left it behind."

Borus' muttered thanks was grudging. Quickly securing his bags, he swung up into the saddle with practiced ease, winding the scarf around his neck and mouth before pulling his hood over his head. The clatter of shod hooves behind him meant Percy was following.

They didn't speak again until they were clear of the castle and heading north. Percy was keeping pace beside him by that point and Borus was trying to pretend he was the only one on the road.

"So," Percy ventured, voice loud enough to be heard over the horses. "How long are we going to keep this up?"

Sighing, Borus kept his back ramrod straight and his eyes facing forward. "I don't know what you're referring to."

"Right," Percy said sarcastically. "Glad to see you're still sulking."

Grinding his teeth, Borus wanted to scream. Instead, he snapped, "We're on a mission, Percy."

He didn't realize his slip with the name until they had ridden in a cold silence a while longer, and he could have kicked himself. He hadn't called Percy "Sir Percival" or even "Percival" in private for quite a long time, but if he wanted to distance himself, then returning to a formal mode of address would be the quickest way to offend the other knight. Another lost opportunity to put things between them in their proper place.

But he had to admit, as he snuck a sideways glance at his companion, he did miss his conversations with Percy. Nearly four days of minimal contact, and he was hard pressed to acknowledge that he did not have many friends. While he had been avoiding everyone else, he found that, besides Percy and the other four knights, no one really sought out his company. Essentially, he really hadn't evaded anyone more than he normally did. Without Percy at his side, Borus mostly ignored the castle maidens, save for a few polite greetings, and the girls seemed perfectly willing to take or leave his casual flirting. The soldiers had always stopped speaking as he walked past, either in awe of his rank or unsure how to treat a nobleman, and once he had risen out of their ranks, he had made sure to keep the distance of authority between them.

Not that he needed Percy to socialize. He was perfectly capable of carrying on a conversation by himself, and half the maidens in Vinay swooned at his feet with a mere smile. He was witty and eloquent, and his boyish good looks usually smoothed over any situation his manners couldn't.

What should he care that Percy had succumbed to the lure of his charm and bedded him in a night of drunken passion? Others had before him, and not all drunken— Well, not that many others. Actually, enough to count on one hand, but that meant nothing--

Borus realized, at that point, that should he ever repeat his last train of thought aloud, he would have the satisfaction of seeing Percy laugh his ass right off his horse. Which made him blush, because somehow the other man managed to humiliate him even in his own thoughts. And gods, if Percy knew the power he had over him... He couldn't help his shudder.

"Cold, hm?" Percy called out to him, eyebrow arched. Borus merely ignored him, too tired to get in another childish spat and perfectly willing to let the other man think what he wanted.

The breeze became frostier as they hit the open plain, and Borus urged his horse faster. Percy's steed picked up its pace as well, and soon they were both charging through the light snow covering like colts on a spring day. Borus let himself get lost in the thundering of hooves, the reverberating impact traveling through his legs and back. He hadn't let his charger take the lead since the first snowfall, and he knew the beast was ready for a good run after being pent up in the stables all winter. A smile was hidden by his scarf.

They were nearly across the plains by the time it became too dark to safely continue. Their makeshift camp was merely a tent and a fire, and they didn't speak as they ate their trail rations by the flickering light. When it came time to retire, Borus eyed the small tent warily.

"I'll take first watch," he snapped, drawing a log closer to the fire. Percy smirked.

"Surely that's unnecessary in this weather, Borus?"

The blonde knight glared at his partner. True, the sky was grey even at night with low-hanging clouds, and it would probably snow soon so the brigands with any sense were most likely holed up, but damned if he was crawling in that tiny place with only Percy for warmth.

"I'll wake you at midpoint," was all he said.

Percy sighed, then shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Once the other knight was tucked away and snoring, Borus pulled his cloak tighter around him, burrowing into his scarf to keep his nose from freezing.

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Morning found Borus huddled in scratchy travel blankets that smelled like Percy and he wanted to kick himself for taking first watch. He'd fallen quickly asleep after waking the brown-haired knight and trading off, but his dreams had been plagued with haunting visions of the other man.

He practically snarled his thanks when Percy offered him a tin cup full of tea, but Percy merely raised an eyebrow and returned to his dry biscuit.

"Still not a morning person, are we?" He said to the fire, amused smile in place. Borus jerked his head up, glaring.

"We don't have much farther. Let's move out," he growled, standing. They quickly broke down the tent and prepared the horses.

He had to admit he set a fast pace, but he needed to get away from the irksome man. If he didn't, he wouldn't be held accountable for his actions. They slowed to a trot when they reached the pass that would take them to Iksay village. He caught Percy's wistful expression as they continued past the turnoff, but he refrained from commenting.

The walls of Budehuc Castle rose on the horizon sooner than Borus had expected. The trees started to thin around them, and the gates were open, welcoming travelers. The marketplace was less busy than usual, probably due to the weather, and Cecil let them through with a wave of her spear. From on horseback, the slight figure of Lord Thomas could be seen in the front courtyard. Dismounting, they headed straight for the young lord, who was conversing with Sebastien. Upon the sight of the two knights, though, Thomas broke off and was obviously trying not to frown.

"Sir Percival, Sir Borus. I trust you're well?" He greeted them smoothly. He had definitely grown into his own over the years.

"We're quite well, thank you, Lord Thomas. But we do have a message to you from Lady Chris." Percy smiled charmingly and the young lord relaxed, looking less harassed. "She asked that you open it immediately."

"Thank you, Sir Percival." Thomas accepted the scroll and quickly undid the seal. His lips moved rapidly as he read it, but no sound came out. Expression going from anxious to confused, and then resolved, Thomas turned to them. "Thank you. I'll have a reply for you to deliver ready by tomorrow. Until then, please enjoy the castle's hospitality. Sebastien will see you to your room. I'm afraid we only have one free-- We're entertaining a group of nobles from Vinay while their patroness rests-- but the room does have two beds..."

He looked apologetic, and even though Percy's smile had frozen on his face, the two knights thanked the young lord and returned to their horses. The stable master herself came to collect the chargers, and the knights hefted their saddle bags to their shoulders once their steeds were being led off. Sebastien bowed from where he had been waiting and motioned for them to follow him into the castle.

Borus was lost in his own thoughts as they entered the castle, and nearly ran into Percy when the other knight stopped abruptly. A gaggle of noblewomen were at the top landing of the stairs, gathered around a matronly lady. Sebastien had paused at the foot of the staircase, waiting for the women to descend, and Borus and Percy waited behind him.

As the procession reached the last stair, Borus finally looked up, focusing on the older lady. Her dress was of heavily spun silk, obviously expensive, and her fingers and throat sparkled with clusters of jewels. Her gray hair was elaborately piled on top of her head, with pearls woven throughout. Her wrinkled eyes narrowed when she spied the knights.

"Lady Aurestria, I am so pleased to see you looking rested!" Sebastien gushed as the woman approached.

"Thank you, Sebastien. The accommodations were quite adequate. I do wish to speak with Lord Thomas later tonight, in preparation for our departure." Her voice was strong and clear. As Sebastien stammered Lord Thomas' imminent locations, she peered at Borus from behind half-lidded eyes, but said nothing. Thanking the steward, she left before introductions could be made.

"That's Lady Bloodraven. Always busy, she is. It's no wonder she needed to come to the baths to rest," Sebastien huffed as they climbed the stairs.

Percy smiled and said, "Ah, to have the time for such luxuries! I tell you, I'm looking forward to my later years, if I make it till then."

Sebastien nervously joined the knight's laughter, but Borus stayed quiet as they were led to their room. Staying by the door, Sebastien bowed out of the room as the two knights settled their bags.

"So, Lady Bloodraven... Where have I heard that house name before?" Percy mused lightly as he unpacked his bags. "Wasn't that yours at some point, or do you nobles pass the pedigrees around arbitrarily?"

Borus ignored the other man and his sarcasm as he jerkily removed his gauntlets. The day just kept getting worse and worse, and he was tempted to make an early night of it rather than join the lord of the manor and his guests for dinner.

"Is it a sign of affection in your family to ignore people?" Percy finally asked snidely, and Borus whipped around to face him, expression furious.

"Must you speak?" He growled, cheeks flushed.

Rocking back on his heels insolently, Percy regarded him somberly. "I'm just wondering why we meet a noblewoman sharing your house name and suddenly we're passed over like river rats. Not that I'm not used to being snubbed, but I'd like to know why a perfect stranger is doing it now, too."

Clenching his teeth, Borus wanted to pummel something. Break something. Because this tension between him and Percy was horrible, and every time he looked at the other man he remembered that mouth doing things other than talking, and Percy had never been this cruel before.

Before Borus ruined everything between them.

"If you must know," he finally ground out when it became apparent Percy wasn't going to just disappear. "The snub was not directed at you, merely the company you keep. Now if you will pardon me, I am going to the bathhouse to rid myself of this grime."

He could tell Percy wanted to press for more, but the other man refrained from speaking. Frustration and something else was in his eyes, it seemed, and Borus glared furiously at him before turning away. Grabbing a smaller satchel from his saddle bags, he departed before anything more could be said.

SIIISIIISIIISIIISIIISIIISIIISIII

Distracted by his anger, he was not aware of the handmaiden in the hallway to the baths until he literally ran into her. Jars and sachets from her basket went flying as she bounced off his armor, and he winced in sympathy while holding out a steadying hand. The girl looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir knight." Flustered, she was stammering and near tears. "It was so clumsy of me! I apologize, please—let me—"

She started waving a lacy handkerchief at him and he realized one of the delicate glass jars had lost its lid when it hit his breast plate. The smell of mint assaulted his nostrils as a green goop trailed down his front. Quickly mustering himself, he smiled disarmingly.

"Indeed, mistress, it is my own negligence. Please accept my apologies for being unaware when such beauty stands before me."

The girl blushed harder, this time from shyness, and Borus relaxed as the threat of tears was averted. The bath supplies were scattered all across the carpet, though, and when she bent to retrieve them, Borus crouched as well. The girl started fluttering again.

"Oh no, Sir Borus! It's not seemly for a knight such as yourself to—I can—"

He chuckled kindly and placed a handful of small jars back in her basket while reaching for more. "As I am the one in error, it is only proper I remedy the situation. I do apologize again. I hope I did not hurt you?"

"N-no, sir knight! Of course not—"

The protestations lasted until the final sachet was collected, and Borus just wanted a really long soak in a private bath. Preferably having no living creature within fifty feet of him. He suppressed a sigh as he tried to screw the lid back on the jar of mint gel.

"My mistress is going to be so mad..." The girl whispered, frowning at the half empty bottle.

Borus smiled reassuringly. "If there is any concern, please let me know. I'll gladly explain things to your mistress—"

The girl turned sad eyes on him. "But, Sir Borus, I thought you and she—"

"Ilsa!" A sharp voice cracked from the doorway to the bath hall. Lady Bloodraven stood regally at the cusp of the inner hall, flanked by her two ladies-in-waiting. The girl quickly stood, nearly upturning her basket again. Borus rose more slowly, trying not to look as wary as he felt.

"My lady—"

"I ordered you back to the room, foolish girl." The Bloodraven matriarch interrupted. "I expect to have my wishes followed, should you continue in my employ. As you have not been with us long, I shall grant you lenience this time."

The girl bobbed a curtsy, and Lady Bloodraven continued. "Know that I also demand you conduct yourself as a proper lady. If I find you have been consorting with common rabble again, I shall have to let you go."

Angry blue eyes, undimmed by age, drilled into Borus at the last reprimand. He met her gaze defiantly, long accustomed to such displays. He regretted causing the girl trouble, though, and stepped out of her way as she fled to her original destination. Lady Bloodraven continued staring him down as she spoke to the remaining women.

"Please see that she returns to the room without further incident, Marie. Jenna."

An obvious dismissal, and the women swept past Borus without a glance, ignoring him. Of course they would; they had been in his grandmother's employ since before he was born. They would adhere to their lady's wishes until the day they died.

When the hallway was empty, save the two of them, Lady Bloodraven stepped forward slowly. Her heavy skirts rustled with her precise movements. He heard them echo in his dreams some nights, always hushed. Always angry.

"Still a disgrace, I see." She murmured quietly, mouth barely moving. "Shaming the memory of your father and grandfather. I hope you're satisfied with the ruin you've brought to their line and name."

Borus remained silent, trying to keep his expression neutral. Once he would have tried to parlay with her, to meet her vitriol with his own. But he was one of the six Mighty Zexen Knights. He was his own man.

The lack of reaction seemed to goad her further.

"My nephew, Lord Cegin, has officially been declared the Bloodraven heir, seeing as I no longer have any grandchildren." Her tone was angry and pained. "His skills are mediocre, but as he has not been groomed to receive the family title since the moment of his birth, I'm sure his incompetence will be tolerated."

When he still did not reply, she stepped past him. Pausing, she refused to look at him again. "But then, at least the family can trust him not to selfishly throw the traditions of centuries away, just so that he can play soldier. He, at least, understands his responsibilities."

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The room he shared with Percy was mercifully empty when he finally returned. An hour in the steamy baths and his head was still pounding. He couldn't seem to rid himself of the damn mint smell, either. In an attempt to muffle it, he placed his armor in the far corner of the room and cracked open the window.

Leaning his elbows on the sill, he took a deep breath of winter air. The sun was setting, which meant dinner would be soon. He didn't want to contemplate that. Standing straighter, he noticed his reflection in the darkening glass panes. Vivid bruises on the side of his neck, noticeable through the open neck of his tunic, and there was a reason he had been wearing his armor more often than not the past four days.

Four days. It seemed far longer. He didn't know what he was more uncomfortable with—The fact that it had been a man in his bed, or the fact that it had been Percy. Peasants were allowed to indulge in such carnalities as same-sex coupling, but not the noble families of Vinay. Nobles were expected to marry according to pedigree in order to produce the best bred children to carry on the family line. Any indulgences between members of the same sex were conducted discreetly and never spoken of if they were discovered. Certainly any affection lying between the two parties was never contemplated, either.

But, as his grandmother had made clear years ago, he was no longer a Bloodraven. Appointing his second cousin Cegin heir in Borus' place just drove the last nail in on that subject.

Shying from that pain, his thoughts trailed unwelcome to Percy, as they were wont to do. The infuriating brunette with his taunting, and his damn knowing smile, and his uncanny ability to flirt with anything that had a pulse. The strong line of his back, his tanned skin stretched across Borus' sheets. And maybe he hadn't been as drunk as he liked to think that night, because he could remember every detail perfectly.

And right. He was not contemplating Percy. Not at all. He was doing a bang-up job of it, too.

Sighing, he retrieved the book he was reading from his satchel and settled into the room's only chair. If his head wasn't going to give him any peace, he was just going to distract it until he could sleep. His stomach churned and he tried to focus on the page in front of him.

He didn't look up when the door opened some time later. The creak of armor let him know it was Percy anyway, and he re-read the starting paragraph for the tenth time.

"You should light a candle," Percy said quietly, unbuckling his sword belt. Borus determinedly kept reading in the waning light. Percy sighed obviously, and retrieved an oil lamp from the desk, lighting it and setting it on the table next to the chair. He propped himself next to the open window and stared at Borus until the blonde knight looked up with a frown.

"I just came across a girl named Ilsa, crying her heart out on the ground floor stairs."

Borus' stomach lurched and he closed the book. Always causing trouble, always ruining things. "Is she—"

Percy gave him an unreadable look. "Apparently Lady Bloodraven is in a foul mood this evening. The poor girl found herself out of a job over spilled bath salts."

Scowling, Borus was standing and taking a step towards the door before Percy continued.

"Don't worry about her. We had a nice long chat; I mopped up her tears. Luckily Lord Thomas had a position open, so she's not homeless."

Borus paused, feeling foolish. He risked a glance at Percy, found the other knight staring out the darkened window.

"You didn't tell me." Percy said quietly, voice trying not to sound hurt, but Borus could hear it anyway. He didn't pretend not to know what Percy was referring to.

"Honestly, I half expected one of the men to mention it to you. But it happened years ago. There was no reason for me to speak of it."

"Well I wouldn't have—"Percy stopped abruptly, looking at Borus with an upset expression. "I apologize for my comments this afternoon."

Borus shrugged. "There's nothing to forgive, so no reason to apologize. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to retire for the night."

"What about dinner?"

"I find myself without an appetite this evening."

"If you don't go, she'll see it as another victory."

Borus chuckled bitterly. "She's already won the war; what worth is a little skirmish?"

Funny, he thought, Percy seemed almost angry on his behalf. But it was merely the concern of a friend, nothing more. Reading into things was what put him in this mess in the first place, and he refused to make the same mistake twice. He and Percy were friends, comrades-in-arms. He couldn't see Percy wanting anything more than that, and so he would be content with what he could have, even if it wasn't what he wanted.

And he wanted more. Wasn't that what the past four days had been about? He ran his thumb over the worn spine of his book, letting the revelation settle in his mind. He didn't want to be a casual bed-warmer for his best friend. He wanted to be everything.

Percy was silent, booted foot tapping against the wooden molding of the wall as he looked out the window again. When he spoke, his voice was low and his words surprised Borus.

"My mother didn't want me to join the army. She was afraid, and rightly so. But the day I became a knight, she cried. She was so proud of me, and I... I was embarrassed to have a farmer's wife for a mother. She told the entire village of my appointment, bragged even, and I never mentioned her once to a comrade until I took Chris to the festival."

Borus winced, knowing that was partly his fault. Before the Grasslands war, before he knew Percy as a friend and only after as a commoner, he had been quite vocal in his disparagement of those people he had sworn to protect. It was no wonder the other knight had kept his background quiet.

"But," Percy continued, "If there is one thing I've learned since, it's the importance of family. The world is a lonely place without them."

Wandering over to his satchel, Borus put his book away then wished he hadn't as he found his hands empty. He shrugged, not knowing what Percy expected of him.

"It was my decision to become a knight." He finally said. "Mine, and mine alone. My parents were-- killed by brigands when I was a child, and I could do nothing to save them. After that, there was never really a question in my mind of what I would become."

Percy frowned, turning to look at him. "But to be a knight is a noble endeavor. Why would you be disowned for undertaking it?"

"I did not start out as a knight, Percy. I refused to buy myself a title and I earned those I have held." Borus glanced away from him. "Besides, one cannot be a proper lord of the manor and yet still a knight."

His grandmother's furious words, hissed at him so many years ago. A knight would not be at her beck and call until her death. A knight would face his own death every time he took up his sword.

"Lady Chris is," Percy countered stubbornly.

"Lady Chris is not a Bloodraven." Borus turned away from him. "And neither am I. I am Borus Redrum, Zexen Knight."

Percy made a frustrated noise. "That isn't how it works. You can't just give up who you are; who your family is."

"Apparently I can." Borus wanted to laugh. In Percy's world of farms and close-knit villages and people who were free to love as they pleased, in that world it was so simple.

"Percy," he said quietly, wryly, wanting peace. "Just go to dinner. Enjoy yourself. Don't drink too much wine and don't wake me up if you find an amenable serving girl."

He expected the other knight to leave as the creak of armor signaled his movement, but instead a bare hand closed on his shoulder, burning through the heavy cotton of his tunic. Fingertips rested on the bruised flesh of his neck, their heat branding him all over again.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't gallivant across the countryside seducing unsuspecting wenches." Percy's tone matched Borus' in dryness, and he knew his attempt at deflection was noted. "And besides, I only drink the finest wines. My best friend's a snob about it, but he calls himself a connoisseur and I dare not partake without his opinion."

He had to smile at that. The smile faded, though.

"And are we..." His throat hurt and he couldn't finish his sentence. The hand on his shoulder tensed.

"Are we what?" Percy's voice was so close to his ear.

"Are we still friends?" Borus whispered.

"Always."

A knot of tension in his chest loosened. For the first time in four days, he could breathe again.

Percy sighed behind him. "I'll make your excuses to Lord Thomas. Sleep well."

A squeeze to his shoulder and then Percy left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Borus stared out the window until the moon was high in the night sky.

It wasn't all he wanted, but it was all he could have. It would have to do. He would make sure of that.

SIIISIIISIIISIIISIIISIIISIIISIII

The light touch of fingertips on his cheek woke him early the next morning. When he opened his eyes, Percy was merely placing a cloth-wrapped bundle next to his pillow.

"Thought you might like a meat bun," was all the other knight said.

Borus sat up slowly, muscles sore for no reason he could discern. He yawned and stretched, reaching for the package. Percy must have charmed the kitchen staff at some point, because the bun was still hot from the oven.

"Thank you," he said belatedly. He sat cross-legged in bed while he ate and watched Percy straighten his saddle bags. He couldn't remember a time that he had slept later than the other man, but he wasn't awake enough to care.

"Sebastien says Lord Thomas has prepared our return message." Percy paused in the middle of the room, looking at a loss. As Borus finished his bun, the brunette slung his bag over his shoulder. "I'll just go down to the stables. Have the horses brought to the front."

Raising an eyebrow, Borus waved Percy off if only to get him out of the room. The tension between them may have lessened, but Percy was still acting oddly around him. At least, Borus could only assume it was him, because he hadn't been awakened during the night and Percy damn well knew the stable master would have their horses waiting for them. If he didn't know better, he would say Percy was nervous. About what was unfathomable.

He dressed without delay and hurriedly prepared his own saddle bag, slinging it over his armored shoulder. There was still the faint smell of mint on his breastplate, but it seemed to have aired out overnight.

When he went down to the foyer, Lady Aurestria and her party were just leaving out the front doors as a great deal of the castle staff lined up to see them off. The door shut behind them and the crowd dispersed noisily. Lord Thomas was conferring with Sebastien, but smiled in welcome when Borus approached.

"Good morning, Sir Borus. I hope you are feeling better?" There was only genuine concern in the young lord's face, so Borus gave him a sincere grin.

"Quite better, my lord. I apologize for missing dinner. I have traveled frequently this winter, mayhap the weather finally caught up with me."

Percy entered the foyer at that moment, shaking snow from his cloak. Lord Thomas turned to address them both when Percy walked over.

"Well, I wish you a safe and speedy return to the Castle. Here is the missive for Lady Chris. Please wish her well for me." He handed Borus a leather encased scroll and the blonde knight tucked it in his saddle bag.

"That we shall. Fair health to you, Lord Thomas." Percy smiled engagingly and all the nearby servant girls who witnessed it melted.

They rode off with little ceremony and Borus grinned behind his scarf. He enjoyed the attention that came with being a high-ranking knight, but he also loved the anonymity it afforded when he was trying to leave a place quickly. A glance at Percy confirmed the other knight had noticed their easy escape as well, and they silently goaded each other into a fast trot out of the fort walls.

They passed by the slow-moving Bloodraven caravan on the main road, nodding to the honor guards at the rear and then the front. No one expected them to stop and chat, and Borus took advantage of that. It wasn't cowardice or fear that kept him from further contact with Lady Bloodraven, merely the desire to be rid of the whole damn mess and spare the bystanders any unpleasantness. Ilsa probably would have appreciated that the previous day.

The morning was a pleasant one, snow freshly fallen but tapering off as the sun rose higher. The wind bit at his cheeks and made his eyes water reflexively, yet he didn't mind. They slowed their horses once they reached the halfway marker to Iksay, and Borus allowed himself to finally relax in the saddle.

"I don't bed just anyone, you know."

Borus startled, back going rigid. They were the first words Percy had spoken since Budehuc, and he had gotten so caught up in the snow and the rhythm of his horse that he had let his attention wander. They were on a mission; it was completely unacceptable for his mind to drift.

Then he realized what Percy had said and his chest hurt abominably. If Percy was just pitying him; if maybe his friend realized what Borus felt... The thought was unbearable.

"I have little interest in your conquests." The blonde snapped.

"Of course."

They rode on in silence.

"Do you realize that when you're nervous or upset, you get angry?" Percy said casually.

Borus frowned and retorted hotly, "I do no such thing!"

Percy regarded him smugly with an upraised eyebrow and Borus flushed, looking away at the distant tree line.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" He finally muttered.

"And yet you seem to suffer through me just fine..."

"Barely."

Percy sighed comically and kept pace beside him. After another moment of silence, the dark-haired knight spoke again.

"I just mention the anger reaction because I hadn't really contemplated it before."

Borus glared at him, and Percy shrugged. "Well, I mean, I knew you did it; I've seen it often enough. But I didn't apply it to us in any sense."

"That's because there is no us," Borus ground out. He fought the urge to let his horse gallop ahead.

"Exactly. After all we've been through, there is no 'us.' We're best friends, we're shield mates, and we're comrades; we get along better than you do with anyone else; we obviously find each other attractive, yet we're not an item, and I don't see why we shouldn't be together—"

"Percy," Borus interrupted, tone sharp. "Will you please stop talking nonsense?"

"Borus," Percy mimicked, posture relaxed. "Will you please let me finish?"

"Fine," the blonde knight muttered.

"What I'm trying to say," Percy continued lightly. "Is that I don't think I was very clear in my intentions. You're unlike anyone I've ever had to deal with, Borus, and I've gone about this whole thing in the wrong manner. Salome pointed out—"

"You spoke to Lord Salome about us?" Borus hissed furiously as he reined his charger in. The horse stamped impatiently, but Borus was focused on Percy. The other knight shrugged again, also stopping his mount.

"Unfortunately, Leo hasn't much wisdom when it comes to relationships, and you do not want to hear what Roland suggested. Besides, Salome already knew how I felt and he offered a friendly ear for my sorrows." Percy sniffed disdainfully. "Are you done interrupting yet?"

When Borus just ground his teeth and nodded, Percy nudged his horse back into a steady walk and Borus followed suit.

"He pointed out that I hadn't declared my affections before bedding you—"

"By the goddess," Borus groaned, face red. He was never going to be able to look Salome in the eye again. Or Roland. Or Leo, for that matter.

Percy ignored him and continued flippantly. "—Which might have given you the wrong impression about how I regarded our coupling. Which I thought was ridiculous, really, because how could I be any more obvious? Then he pointed out that maybe you weren't aware of exactly how much I love and adore you—Well, I admit I don't adore when you get your knickers in a twist at me, even if I do enjoy—"

Borus just stared at Percy unblinking for a moment, then turned and let his horse have free rein. They tore up the road, Percy only a few paces behind, and he didn't know what to say or think.

Percy had just, in his roundabout way, said that he loved Borus. Even before he 'bedded' him. Salome's comment about needing people made more sense. Percy's tone that morning had, in retrospect, been more affectionate than gloating. Well, the man had been smug, but that was an inherent personality trait. Borus hadn't been as drunk as he liked to pretend. Percy cared for him. And stated it so easily, so offhand. Borus was the one who became angry when he was upset-- Percy became more cavalier.

They both had their defenses.

With a curse, he slowed his horse. The charger was breathing harshly through its nose, sides heaving. Borus wasn't much better off.

"Feel better?" Percy asked quietly.

Borus merely grunted incoherently and kept going.

"For how long?" He finally demanded.

Percy smiled over at him, slouching in his saddle. "Long enough."

"Don't toy with me, Percy." He liked to think that his tone was more menacing than pleading.

"Since the Grasslands campaign," Percy said eventually, after a contemplative silence. "When you were so upset over that village. You acted recklessly after it-- I realized I was afraid of what you might do. That you'd try to get yourself killed over something stupid, and I wouldn't be there to stop you. And I realized that I wanted to be there for you, for as long as you'd have me."

Borus nodded to acknowledge he'd heard, but he kept his own counsel as they plodded along. He didn't trust himself not to say something stupid.

His horse was calming down, yet they would probably do best to stop earlier than the previous night. The poor thing hadn't had that much excitement in months. The ribs under his legs were developing more than just winter padding, though, and Borus made a mental note to speak with the stable boy about cutting back on the hot mash when they returned.

He focused his thoughts on the charger's welfare until they were halfway across the plains. The hours of silence had done nothing to disturb Percy's relaxed attitude, and Borus felt a little spark of admiration beyond his annoyance when he snuck a glance over.

The world was getting incrementally darker by that point, so Borus guided his horse to the left, heading towards a snow-covered tree in the distance.

"I think we're far enough for one day," he called over to Percy by way of explanation. The other knight followed without complaint.

They set up camp as quickly and efficiently as the previous night. The horses were rubbed down and covered in the blankets from their saddle pads. Borus stoked the small fire while Percy erected the tent, refusing the blonde knight's offer of assistance.

Their travel rations were dry, but snow melted easily in their cups next to the fire and soon the smell of tea was discernible. Percy settled down on the thick bedroll Borus had laid out to keep their bums from freezing.

"You've said little," Percy eventually remarked after they were finished eating. He lightly shouldered Borus when the blonde kept staring into the fire.

"I've been thinking," Borus returned lightly.

"That's a new experience, eh?"

Borus smiled as he elbowed the brunette in the side, satisfied with the heavy "oomph" it produced. The humor faded from his expression, though, and Percy stilled.

"You realize we're from entirely different worlds?" Borus said, a little wistful.

"Aye," Percy agreed, his grin returning. "Yet we're both knights. So we're not so different after all."

"Aye." Borus nodded. He was silent a moment longer, then sighed. He kept his gaze locked firmly on the flames in front of them when he spoke next.

"I care for you, too, you know."

"But...?" Percy prompted. Borus had to laugh dryly.

"But nothing. You're very dear to me, that's all."

He found himself staring up into luminous brown eyes, his saddle bag crushed under his back uncomfortably. Percy's expression was the most serious he'd ever seen it as the dark-haired knight pinned him to the blanket.

"Don't toy with me, Borus." Percy echoed his own words from earlier at him. "Tell me to leave you alone, and I will. Tell me you just want to be friends, and I'll do my damnedest. Just tell me something, and do not leave me in this suspense."

Borus gazed up at him, drinking in the sight. Before he could respond, though, Percy sniffed curiously.

"Is that mint I smell?"

With a roll of his eyes and a buck of his hips, Borus took advantage of the other man's distraction to reverse their positions. He kept his gauntleted hands pressed firmly on Percy's breast plate, unmindful of how uncomfortable his armor was at that angle.

"What will you do if I tell you—"Borus paused to swallow nervously. "If I tell you that I also love and adore you, and wish to stay at your side as well, for as long as you'll have me?"

The tension visibly left Percy and the other man slumped back against the blanket and snow. His smile was sharp and happy, and Borus ripped one of his gauntlets off with his teeth just so he could trace the laugh lines of Percy's mouth.

"I would have to inform you that you'll never be rid of me now, and that you have just consigned yourself to a lifetime of torment."

Borus smiled as he leaned forward, surrounded by the creak of leather and metal in his ears, the smell of mint and horses, the heat of the fire on his face and ungloved hand. He braced his free hand next to Percy's head and slowly lowered himself down.

"And if I say I enjoy your brand of torment?" He whispered against Percy's lips.

"I'd say that there's no hope left for you."

"Good."

Their first kiss had been tentative, Percy sober enough to be wary and asking permission with his hesitance. The kiss they now shared held no restraint, nor needed any consent. Borus gladly plundered the mouth beneath his, trying to put all his feelings into the contact of slick flesh upon flesh, groaning as Percy grabbed hold of his hips.

When he finally pulled away with a gasp, he settled back on his knees so Percy could sit up. The brown haired knight was flushed, panting as heavy as he was, and Borus had to lean in again when Percy's tongue flicked out to trace his swollen lips. They kissed until the cold chafed at their cheeks and ears.

Breaking apart, they stared at each other with huge eyes.

"We're still on a mission," Borus reminded them both around a gulp of air.

"Right," Percy nodded but seemed unconcerned, focused on the movement of Borus' mouth.

The blonde knight leaned back to put some space between them, trying to clear his lust-addled brain. They sat there, breath fogging in the cold, and Borus shivered when Percy tugged off a gauntlet to run a shaky hand through his dark hair.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the scrape of wood and bridle and the thumping of horses' hooves quickly drew their attention to the snow-covered road. They watched as the Bloodraven caravan slowly plodded past, distant enough to be mere shadows on the landscape, barely illuminated by the carriage lanterns at the front of each vehicle. One of the footmen waved his lantern at them, swinging it back and forth. Percy stood up, pulling a burning stick from the fire to wave back. They were silent as the line of carriages faded from sight.

"I say we turn in for the night," Percy leered comically at him while stoking the fire.

Borus laughed. Some things would never change. "Then I'll take first watch again."

"But—"Percy blinked innocently at him. "I fear I find myself in no condition for sleep."

Standing, Borus pulled him in for another deep kiss. He murmured, "Then go roll in the snow."

That earned him a belly-laugh and a light punch on the arm as the other knight retreated to the tent with a shake of his head.

"If I freeze before the morn, I'll haunt you from my icy grave!" Percy called out.

"I'll look forward to it," Borus rejoined, but he pulled his saddle bag over to find the ember cup that would help warm the tent. The tin holder was at the bottom of his bag, but he was distracted by the state of the missive for Lady Chris. It had gotten crushed when Percy had pounced upon him, and now the wax seal was broken with the parchment unfurling in his hand as he removed it from the satchel.

He frowned in annoyance, trying to roll the thing back up, and was trying to think of an eloquent way to explain the mess to Lady Chris when a smaller piece of parchment fell out. Pulling off his other glove so he could use two bare hands, he lifted the smaller missive and was replacing it when he happened to glance at the contents.

His conscience would plague him for that, but he had to admit that one did not expect to find a recipe for shrimp curry included in a missive of "extreme importance."

He eyed the closed flap of the tent with suspicion.

So, Lord Salome had given Percy advice, after Percy had spoken with Leo and Roland. Suddenly Lady Chris had a mission that could not be entrusted to a "mere messenger," which required Borus and Percy to travel for several days together, alone. Then Lord Thomas read the message, only had one room available, and they conveniently had to stay the night.

He debated being angry. He debated reading the return message to Lady Chris. Instead, he just slipped the recipe back in with a quiet laugh and rolled it as tightly as he could despite the wrinkles, securing it with a spare strip of leather. He finished retrieving the warmer from his bag, scooping some embers into it with a stick, and got up to put it in the tent. Percy roused groggily from the bedroll, but Borus waved him back to rest and made sure the tent flap was fastened to keep the drafts out.

Huddled next to the fire, he stared down the road they would travel in the morning. He imagined he could hear the creak of carriage wheels and the rustle of heavy velvet skirts. He tucked his chin down against a breeze, feeling the grin on his face in his cold cheeks.

It was true, what Percy had said about family being important. He couldn't just give up who he was. But first, he had to recognize himself. He had to know who he was, and that made recognizing his true family all the easier.

He would always be a Zexen Knight.

Finis