16: Your Place Is At My Side

It was hours before Trahearne felt satisfied with the order being restored to Claw Island. He'd processed the transfer of command to the new Lionguard Watch Commander, a serious-looking Human woman whom Apatia described as 'straitlaced to a fault', and the united Order forces were well on their way to finishing temporary defenses – and shelters for the wounded, and collection of the dead, both former undead and lost allies. He'd found the remains of his friends there, Sieran, Tybalt, and Forgal, and they would be buried with honours on the western side of the island. It was… not pleasant, and he was glad Caoilfhionn and the others of Hope's Legacy were not there to see.

Being Marshal of this Pact was… interesting, so far. He'd been afraid of the responsibility, afraid he would not know what to say or do. It turned out not to be as bad as he'd feared. He could see the problems as they presented themselves, and he could see the solutions, and for the first time, people more or less listened when he told them to implement the solutions. Perhaps it was Caladbolg's aid, but he was… beginning to think he could do this. Right to the end.

He was very weary when at last he felt he had done all he needed to do, and he made his way to the open-air shelter set up for the uninjured forces. It was dimly lit by a few candles, so those changing watch wouldn't trip over those still sleeping, and here and there he saw those he knew – Doern zonked out with drool leaking over his beard, General Almorra snoring gently. And there was Hope's Legacy, in the corner…

He moved over to Caoilfhionn, unhooking Caladbolg from his back so he didn't accidentally hit anyone, and knelt beside him. There wasn't space to lie down anywhere in the vicinity, of course, but he… he was weak, and wanted to look upon him, now that they'd come through this first test safe and sound. He could not count the times he'd felt his stomach lurch with fear to see Caoilfhionn zig-zagging his way through masses of undead on streams of fire, or dancing between the claws of the dragon while wreathed in swirls of water and ice. Yes, the young Valiant could well handle himself, but that wasn't the point anymore.

He'd tried to fight it, to deny his feelings the space to grow. He'd never really felt this way before, first of all, burying himself in his work, not really noticing the people around him in that way. Shy, perhaps. Afraid of being hurt like he'd seen so many others hurt. And even if he had noticed them, anyone close enough to attract his interest drifted away from him as his obsession with Orr grew deeper. He didn't need more disappointment in his life. And it wouldn't have been fair to Caoilfhionn, either.

And yet… the more time they spent together, the more futile it was. His feelings grew beyond his control, a strong and determined vine within him that resisted all attempts at pruning or uprooting. He had to give up denying it existed. He could not fight it any longer. He'd tried. He'd thought it best. He'd lost utterly.

Caoilfhionn's face was peaceful in his sleep, his lush blue lips curved gently into a contented smile, peach luminescence flowing slowly through every blue and violet vein, through his brow and his leaves, his cheekbones, his beard, and Trahearne felt his heart ache for him. He was beautiful, and young, and exquisitely joyful; he was dawn incarnate, pure and good and brave and just a little bit mischievous. His frame was slender and delicate, and yet such power he had within him – power that he was rapidly growing into. He found himself blinded every time Caoilfhionn looked at him with that trusting look he had, those enormous coral eyes alight with admiration, listening kindly to his theories and woes, believing in him so fervently that Trahearne had no choice but to follow suit.

But he'd overhead Sieran say Caoilfhionn loved someone, and well he could believe it. Caoilfhionn loved so easily, so passionately, with wild abandon – naturally he would already have someone special in mind. And there was no way in Tyria that he would ever feel for Trahearne what Trahearne felt for him. Trahearne was boring and depressing and – not that he was old, despite being the eldest, but he was older, by a long shot, and Caoilfhionn was so new, he ought to have someone his own age, someone who could reflect his bright Cycle of Dawn exuberance. It almost hurt to hear his compliments sometimes, to hear his admiration and his faith. Just that morning, when he'd said he looked good – with Caladbolg… how much more praise did he bestow on his beloved?

He was not going to be jealous. He'd given up fighting his feelings, though that didn't mean living with them was going to be any easier. He was just selfishly glad that this quest demanded them to work closely together, that Caoilfhionn seemed to like being his friend.

He wondered who it was that Caoilfhionn loved, and if he knew them. He did know a lot of people.

Even so. Trahearne loved him, and he would do everything in his power to ensure that he lived to tell that person of his love. He would be content to remain alone if only Caoilfhionn could be happy. He would even try his best to protect the people around him – seeing him grieve like he had was as if the sun failed to rise, and he could not stand for that to happen again.

Caoilfhionn shifted slightly, making a little sigh as he did so, and Trahearne swallowed at the protective feelings that surged within him. No, no one had better touch this man, or Mother help him, he would destroy them utterly.

He got up and found an open spot that would accommodate him and Caladbolg, and lay down, resigned to his patient love. And also very tired. And there would be much to do tomorrow.

The Pact returned to Lion's Arch on the following day, and while the Order leadership went back to their headquarters with injunctions to meet again in three days at Fort Concordia, Hope's Legacy stuck around with Trahearne as he went about more tasks. "What's next, Marshal?" asked Annhilda, as they settled in at a tavern for lunch. "How are we getting to Orr?"

Trahearne tapped his fingertips on the table thoughtfully. "There is a ruined fortress at the edge of Kryta, south of the Shattercleft Hills. From that high cliff you can see the spires of Orr rising beyond the Straits of Devastation. We will take that fort and make it our own. The Pact will rebuild it. We will place our banners, and from there we will strike at the dragon's heart."

Annhilda lifted a finger for attention. "This fortress needs a name, a name that will inspire those stationed there. Have you had any ideas?"

Trahearne looked taken aback. "I've been so busy preparing for this assault… I haven't given it much thought. I don't recall off the top of my head what it was named when it was built, before it was abandoned… Do you have a suggestion?"

The others were silent, but Caoilfhionn already had thoughts. "The Pact is three groups, coming together as one. How about… Fort Trinity?"

Trahearne smiled. "That's perfect. Fort Trinity it is."

"And what's our place in your plan?" Damara asked. "You seem to want to use us as figureheads, and it's not hard for me to figure out why."

"I'm glad you're on top of things," Trahearne said. "Yes, I'd like all of you in prominent positions in the Pact. Your guild is as important as Destiny's Edge was in setting an example to the rest of Tyria, an example of diversity and unity. And so, Magister Annhilda, with your permission, I'd like to appoint you as my second-in-command."

Annhilda blinked coolly and raised a red eyebrow. "I'm not a shaman of Wolf, but I will make him proud."

"You have proven yourself," Trahearne said. "You may have as little experience as I do in leading such a group, but I trust you – all of you – better than I trust many others, even those whom I've known for years.

"Even within the Orders themselves?" asked Phiadi skeptically.

"Of course I will have commanders within the Orders, hopefully the same ones we were working with yesterday, but I want you to stand with me not as representatives of your Order, but as yourselves – if that's all right. Although I also wish to appoint at least Phiadi and Damara as commanders."

"I see what you're doing there," Damara said, wagging a finger at him. "You've still got Priory/Vigil/Whispers representation going on, even if you're asking us outside of our duties with them."

"Partially," Trahearne said. "But also, I know of your accomplishments. I might not know you as well as I know Caoilfhionn, but he has vouched for you, and I believe you would also be good leaders."

"Caoilfhionn!" exclaimed Phiadi. "Tattling on us?"

Caoilfhionn waved his hands in denial. "I was just telling him about you and the guild and all the things you've done and how much fun it's been with you! I didn't know he was thinking about that!"

Trahearne chuckled. "Do not blame him for his enthusiasm. But would that be agreeable to all of you?"

"Aye," Annhilda said. "I'd be proud to support you, Trahearne."

"Me too!" Damara said. "I won't let you down! Can't wait to make my folks proud! …I guess they're probably already terribly proud of me – any more, and the tavern's going to sprout wings of its own accord, you know."

"I suppose I'd be a fool to turn down this opportunity," Phiadi said. "But you're aware you're granting power to an Asura. And I am going to make use of it."

"I know of your fights against the Inquest," Trahearne said. "And I know that no matter how you try to disguise it, you fight for the future of Tyria. I trust you."

Phiadi turned a darker shade of grey. "Ugh, don't say that! So embarrassing."

"Rhyoll, I apologize, I feel you've been left out of this conversation, after you were the hero of the day yesterday…"

Rhyoll laughed heartily. "I'm fine, I'm fine! I'm not into being a commander or anything. I already made Centurion and Crusader. That's already too much leadership for me. I just want to make interesting toys, and introduce all the Risen to the wonders of blackpowder."

"I respect that," Trahearne said. "And that was my guess upon hearing Caoilfhionn speak of you."

"Good. But, for instance, how big of a gun do you think we'll need to take down Zhaitan?"

Trahearne chuckled. "A damned big one, I imagine."

"Too big," muttered Damara.

"I want to see it," Caoilfhionn said.

"Well, that's what I want to work on next."

"I will try to get you whatever you need," Trahearne said. "I will be gathering the best smiths I can find, if you like creative company."

"Well… I don't mind it. As long as they keep their paws off my workspace."

Trahearne nodded. "Caoilfhionn, I have something else in mind for you. I hope you don't mind."

"Very well!" Caoilfhionn said cheerfully. "I don't mind at all."

Trahearne looked around at all of them, a little disconcerted. "That… was easier than I thought it would be. Thank you, all."

"Wait, what's Caoilfhionn's job?" Phiadi demanded.

Trahearne hesitated. "I haven't quite decided yet, and I'm not sure how to put it… Chief Morale Officer?"

Rhyoll laughed again. "That sounds right up his alley."

Caoilfhionn looked quizzically at Trahearne. Somehow, he had the impression that Trahearne had decided, knew exactly what he wanted to ask of Caoilfhionn, and just didn't want to tell the others. He'd ask in a bit.

As they left the tavern and the others went their own ways, Caoilfhionn waited behind. "Trahearne…"

"Mmhmm?"

"I was wondering – you've appointed all these Commanders – Wynnet and Annhilda, Doern and Phiadi, Efut and Damara – should I report to one of them? I mean Wynnet or Annhilda?"

"No," Trahearne said firmly. "You may report to Annhilda as the leader of Hope's Legacy if circumstances require you to, and I acknowledge that I have made her my second-in-command, but within the Pact, your place is at my side."

Caoilfhionn inhaled sharply. "That…"

"Let me explain…" Trahearne said hastily. "I may occasionally ask you to lead a mission, but more importantly, I will need your help and support in the days ahead." His words were slowing, growing more hesitant. "I… need your friendship, more than anything else. …That is, if you're willing! I ask you not as Marshal, but as your friend."

Caoilfhionn felt a glow well up inside him. So that was what he had meant before! "Really? I would be honoured. I'm more than willing to keep standing by you, as much as you need. You're one of my dearest friends!" How dear, he wasn't saying, but that didn't matter – Trahearne wanted him around! Needed him around, even – as two trees were stronger when they leaned on each other, so he would let Trahearne lean on him when the surely-immense pressure of his position grew too great.

Trahearne gave him a wry little smile. "Your optimism, your hope, your courage keep me moving forward. I have the confidence now… but I still… ah… need you." He turned away to look out at the Shiverpeaks. "I have felt the rush of victory, but also the burden we've taken on. We've brought them together and given them hope… but this fight was only a pale shadow of the things we'll fight in Orr." Trahearne shivered, almost imperceptibly. But Caoilfhionn saw it.

He reached out to him. "We can defeat them. One by one, if we have to."

"Your spirit is unflagging, Caoilfhionn. This is exactly what I'm talking about. Your belief."

"Believe in me who believes in you," Caoilfhionn said, laughing. "We'll do this. Together."