A/N: This idea came to me in a dream, believe it or not, and I somehow wrote this up in two sittings. I included some 18th century slang (Caleb is so much fun to write!), so the definitions can be found at the very end. The title is from James Joyce's Ulysses: "Secrets, silent, stony sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts."

Hope you enjoy!

"secrets, silent, stony"

The church was sweltering that summer day. Beads of sweat lingered at the back of Ben's neck, and he stood there in the second pew, tensing his hands while whispers began to arise. Anna was late. She was late to her own wedding, and already, the rumor mill was buzzing between busy lips.

Women cooled themselves with paper fans, and men checked their pocket watches with displeasure. Only Selah remained unruffled. He stood there at the altar, hands clasped and expression guarded, refusing to turn around and dignify the whispers. Ben supposed he didn't have much choice. Were Selah to acknowledge the clear rejection, it could do irreparable damage to his reputation…to his business.

"What do you make of this shite?" Caleb whispered to him, talking out of the side of his mouth.

Ben shook his head, keeping his eyes on Selah. "It's not like her," he allowed. "She wouldn't do this."

Or at least, he liked to believe she wouldn't – not the good-natured girl with the sunny, smiling eyes he'd known growing up.

"These backbiters have no shame," Caleb agreed. "Just wait 'til they're all chimping merry – then they'll really be letting their lips flap."

Somehow, Ben wasn't so sure that there would be a celebration with drink afterward, but he didn't wish to add to the pall in the air. He also noted how Abraham wasn't anywhere to be found. That wasn't all that surprising, given his affections for Anna, but it was undoubtedly adding to the rampant speculation.

"Maybe she's ill," Caleb offered.

Ben shook his head, his eyes cutting toward Anna's family. "If that were the case, her parents would have said so. Clearly, she's…"

What? Run off? Eloped with Abraham?

Ignoring the low, acidic feeling in his stomach, he clenched his teeth and exhaled.

"Clearly, she's what?" Caleb pressed.

Shoulders drooping, Ben steeled himself a moment, then drew up with more confidence than he felt. "I'm going to go look for her," he decided.

"You?" Despite the selfless gesture, Caleb laughed. "The last time you offered a helping hand, she slapped that pretty smile right off your face, Tall-boy."

Ben wasn't amused. "She misunderstood my intentions. This time, she won't have any room for being on her high horse."

Caleb's smile faded. "You really think Annie's done something wrong?"

"Aside from humiliating Selah?" Ben shrugged, his face filled with pity. "I'm uncertain…all I do know is she's not here to fulfill her obligation." Tapping Caleb's arm, he urged, "Stay here. Selah will need a friend."

When Caleb nodded, Ben stepped out into the aisle and left the church.

Anna knew she was many things: impulsive, hot-tempered, occasionally selfish, and yet she never thought she'd be adding disloyal to the list. Her feelings on the matter could no longer be ignored. She didn't love Selah Strong – she loved another, and had for many years.

It wasn't that she wanted to break his heart. Selah was a good, kind man, and it rankled her something fierce that it had come to this. Despite her agreement to the match, any time Anna looked at her fiancé, all she could see were soft, cornflower blue eyes and a shy smile – Ben's smile.

It was ridiculous and unfathomable, especially since they had never shared anything between one another…not even an improper brush of the hand. And yet somehow, it was their unspoken dance that filled Anna with the most joy – with the most promise.

Earlier that morning, after her mother had helped her into her slate-blue muslin dress – the best dress she owned – Anna had gazed into the looking glass and felt overwhelmed…smothered, and upon feigning the need for fresh air, she'd promptly run off.

The truly telling gauge was that she'd known exactly where to go. When they had been small children, she, Ben, Caleb and Abraham all frequented the local watering hole. Upon growing older, she had often been cut from their outings (more for propriety's sake than any true malice, given their love of skinny-dipping), but it was still a place that left her feeling safe and warm…at home.

Anna sat there at the water's edge, her skirts hiked up around her knees so that she could dip her feet into the cool stream. Back and forth she moved her feet, skimming her toes over the surface as she tried not to cry. She felt guilty…unlovable. Undeserving of love. It would have been far easier, she realized, if Selah had been a terrible person.

But he wasn't.

She was.

"Anna?"

Lurching, she turned her head and balked, a mixture of horror and relief flooding across her face. "Ben," she choked. "How did…?"

"Lucky guess," he finished, appraising her with concern. "What are you doing out here?"

Curling her shoulders, Anna turned back toward the water and shrugged. "I can't do it," she whispered. "I can't do this…to either of us."

"You and Selah?" Ben asked, seeking clarification. When she nodded, he gingerly approached, careful to keep his distance, should she grow skittish again. "Would you care to talk about it?"

"No." She gripped her petticoats between her fingers, brow furrowed with disgust. "You should know by now that this was only a marriage of convenience…it was never actually about me or what I wanted. Selah either, I suppose."

"That's not true," Ben said with a frown. "He most definitely wanted you – still wants you, for that matter." Cautious, he took another step forward. "Come back with me, Anna. There's still time."

"No." The gruff force shook through her very core, and Anna clenched her teeth. "That's the problem with this, Ben: there isn't time. Not for all the things I've wanted to do…to say."

Perplexed, he approached her further still. "Say to whom?"

"You." Laughing at the look on his face, she shrugged and lowered her eyes again. "Why are you acting so surprised? You're supposed to be one of my best friends."

Uncertain of where this was going, Ben's frown deepened and slowly, he sank down into the grass alongside her. Drawing his legs in toward his chest, he was careful to keep away from the water. A soft sigh caught in his throat. "If you want to speak with me, I'd suggest doing it now. As far as I'm aware, I'm the only one out here looking for you."

"And you found me," Anna murmured, tracing an absent pattern on her knee. "How did you know where to look?" When he spared her a scornful glance, she laughed softly. "Foolish question, I know… The four of us know each other like no one else. I suppose that's why I always thought…I-I always believed that I would marry one of you."

One person, in particular.

Ben didn't look at her. He kept his arms firmly locked around his knees, his hands tensing as he gripped his elbows. "Abe isn't at the church," he finally allowed. "I assume he feels much the same way you do."

"No," she bitterly said, "he doesn't."

"Oh?"

"He found out how I really feel…I told him last night." Despite the hurt it caused, it had been exhilarating to finally admit aloud to someone – someone she loved – how she felt about Ben. Unfortunately, it would seem Abraham had taken it hard, and run off somewhere to process his own feelings…much as she was doing now.

"What did you tell him?" Ben asked, confused. "I thought you two-"

"No," Anna cut in, shaking her head. "I love him, but not in the way he needs."

"…I see."

"Do you?" Her gaze pierced through him then, sharp and like broken stain glass, both illuminating his soul and damning him in one full rush.

Ben's breath caught and he looked away. "Abe and Selah are my friends," he said after a moment. "As are you, Anna, and this…I-I am uncertain of what you're trying to say, but it isn't appropriate."

"Appropriate?" Anna laughed at him then, and to Ben's embarrassment, he realized that her hiked up dress wasn't entirely "appropriate," either.

Avoiding the sight of her bare shins, ankles and feet – nothing anyone should see other than her husband – he frowned and shook his head. "You're being a child," he finally concluded. "Whatever it is you're feeling, it will come to pass."

The fire in Anna's eyes that he loved to loathe flared up, and fiercely, she jabbed a finger beneath his chin. "I am not a child," she snapped at him, "and you have no right to tell me how to feel, Benjamin Tallmadge!"

He winced, curling in on himself at her reprimand.

Slowly, her expression changed into something more mercurial, and Anna smirked. "Besides," she jeered, "I've seen you naked. That certainly puts you at a disadvantage, now doesn't it?" She shrugged. "It's hard to take you seriously, 'cause for a time there, you barely wore breeches."

Ben's jaw clenched. "I have grown, you realize."

"You shouldn't flatter yourself." Catching the horror in his eyes, she laughed. "I meant your maturity! Goodness! Someone's a bit full of himself, don't you think?"

They fell silent again, and Anna's smile slowly faded. "In spite of my jest, you have grown," she softly allowed. "And perhaps in many ways, far more than I could ever hope to keep up with."

Ben frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Caleb…he told me that if the colonies go to war, you intend to enlist."

"Ah." Absently, he plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers, nodding. "I do mean to enlist, yes. You should know that idly standing by has never suited me."

Anna frowned, then reached down and placed her hand over his, halting his nervous movements. "It's never suited me either," she softly said. "That's why I can't marry Selah, Ben. Not when I feel as I do."

His lips pressed tightly together, almost as if he were holding back the words that yearned to escape. Finally, he settled on, "Some feelings are meant to be locked away."

"Why?" Anna's gaze hardened again. "Why must I imprison the strongest part of myself? Arguably, the most important part?"

Ben swallowed, his throat bobbing sharply. "Because it's what's right."

"For whom?" she spat. "You?"

"Anna…"

"Quit with your self-sacrifice! I'm not as good as you, Ben, and I never will be! I don't want to lose what we have!"

"And yet you're content to dive into this headfirst!" he exclaimed. "You haven't outright said what your intentions are, which is for the best – hold your peace, Anna, lest you embarrass us both."

She bobbed her head, displeased. "So now I'm an embarrassment, am I?"

"I never meant…"

"You did. You may be a man of few words, but you damn well mean what you say."

He looked down at her, defeated. "I care for you, Anna…"

"And I you."

"…Yet what you are proposing will be harmful, and I will not hurt Selah."

Her chin tucked. "If the shoe were on the other foot, I can guarantee that he wouldn't mind hurting you."

Ben frowned. "Even if that were true, we are not the same man. I won't turn my back on my principles."

"Oh, hang your principles! Look at what good they've brought!" Tears sprang to her eyes, and angrily, Anna swiped her hand across them, hating to ever appear weak. She supposed that was only natural since she'd grown up with boys – suppression of emotion was necessary, should she wish to be taken seriously. And yet no matter how hard she tried, she was still deemed too fragile, too soft, too simple. When she was with the boys, she could sense the unspoken question: how could a mere woman possibly know what she wanted?

But she did know. She did, she did, she did, and what she wanted was right at her side, and yet so unspeakably far away.

"Ben…" When Anna spoke this time, her voice sounded foreign to her own ears – resigned. "Do you mean to torture me?"

His brow creased, his fingers digging into his arms to the point of pain. Ben couldn't let go of himself. If he did, he knew he would wish to embrace her, and then if he did, he would-

"Why is it the woman never gets a say?" Anna weakly continued. "I understand and respect your feelings – I do – but can you not understand and respect mine?"

This time, Ben could no longer ignore the urge to touch her. He reached out to her with shaking hands, a knot in his throat as he cupped her cheeks. "Hey," he whispered, turning her face to his. "Anna, look at me."

She did, and what he saw – hurt, frustration, anger, love – took his breath away. How had he never seen it? How had he never realized?

Swallowing, Ben tried to speak, but then Anna's hands were suddenly in his hair, pulling him downward until his mouth crashed into hers. In truth, he couldn't tell who had kissed who first – their shared breaths caught between their lips, and then she was sighing into his mouth, clawing at his neck and shoulders with a fierceness he'd never before experienced. She was needy, desperate, alive, and in turn, it fed his own desperation.

"Anna," Ben tried to choke out, but she shook her head, tugging on his lapels.

"If I can't ever have you, have me now," she pleaded. Her eyes were wild and manic – an October storm in the middle of June.

Ben slid his hands over hers, something deep inside his chest squeezing at the tearful, pleading look in her gaze. They could never be together – it was more apparent than ever now, and yet somehow, that tore him up inside far worse than he'd ever thought possible.

"Damn your pride," Anna hissed, almost as if reading his mind. Ripping her hands from his, she attempted to roll away from him on the grass, but Ben followed, his pulse roaring through his ears as he pinned her to the ground.

There was a questioning look in Anna's eyes – perhaps even a glimmer of triumph – but for once, he didn't stop to question his own sanity. Instead, he drew her mouth to his, silencing her soft cries with a kiss that felt more like devouring. Her hands were in his hair again, and then her legs parted, gathering him up between her thighs. She rolled up, practiced, and Ben groaned into her mouth, fumblingly grinding against her – less practiced. In fact, he had never lain with a woman at all, and as Anna broke the kiss to burn her lips along his neck, he nearly collapsed against her from overstimulation. He could feel Anna smile against his skin.

"Touch me," she pleaded. Beneath him, Anna gathered the skirts of her petticoats, and then bunched them up around her waist. When he tucked his hand between her legs, he was unsurprised to find her bare – the true surprise was how slick she was…sopping. He experimentally dragged his fingertips across her entrance and she flinched, sagging back against the earth. Her back arched, and impatient, Anna directed his hand toward her bud, encouraging him to stroke it.

Ben watched as Anna's face transformed into aroused anguish, her mouth falling open as her breath quickened and grew fitful, shallow and soft. When he transferred the stroking to his thumb, he dipped two fingers inside her and held his breath. A long, gusting sigh escaped Anna's mouth, and it sent a responding jolt straight to his cock. Ben squirmed, flustered, and tried not to palm himself as he instead slid his free hand toward Anna's concealed breast. Her bosom heaved over her neckline, flushed, and while she rolled her hips into his tentative thrusts, she drew him back down over her again, silently demanding to be kissed.

That was when they heard it: telltale shouts in the distance…

"Caleb," Anna whispered, her eyes still half-mast.

Ben felt drugged, and was only half aware of rolling away from her, his soiled hand jittery as he wiped it onto his breeches.

"Anna!" Caleb called again, his shouts clearer now. "C'mon, you daft chit, where are you?"

"Here, Caleb!" she called back, her voice husky. "We're over here!"

The sound of snapping twigs echoed through the woods, and quickly, they rose on wobbly legs, straightening their appearance with brisk, urgent tugs of their clothing.

By the time Caleb stepped out from the forest and at the watering hole's edge, Anna passed a hand over her loosened bun, smiling in a sharp, brittle way that snagged at something deep inside Ben's chest. That smile was now his scar tissue – their secret that cut akin to glass.

"Ah, there you both are!" Caleb crowed. He was smiling at them, but there was a knowing look in his dark eyes – something sad and imbued with pity. Gesturing behind him, he added, "Go on ahead, Anna. Selah's back there looking for you."

Her eyes widened. "Selah?"

"Aye. You didn't actually think he'd let his lady love go missing, did you?"

Guilt clouded her face, and tucking her chin, Anna hitched up her skirts and wordlessly headed toward the woods. They could finally hear Selah's own shouts, but no one spoke to alert him of their presence.

Once Anna had disappeared into the forest, Ben turned to Caleb with round eyes, his palms damp from perspiration.

"Going for the green gown, were ya?"

"Caleb…"

The other man shook his head, fondly swatting Ben's shoulder. "You poor ol' bastard." A look of contrition passed over Caleb's face, and then he shrugged, helpless. "I can take you to the bawdy house later on…if you'd like to forget?"

Ben declined, not looking his friend in the eye.

"Suit yourself." Curling his hand around Ben's shoulder, Caleb jerked his head and gestured for the other man to follow.

Ben did, and yet it felt as though he were being led to the gallows.

Anna and Selah were married about an hour later. The guests were no longer bright-eyed and merry, so much as thin-lipped and taciturn for having to wait, so Ben blended in quite well with the surly group. During the exchange of vows, he had noticed Anna's eyes on him – despite her hands holding Selah's, the words were meant for Ben and Ben alone. That hadn't comforted him, so much as rankled like a festering wound – a wound of his own making.

During the service, Caleb kept looking at him, but Ben didn't reciprocate. The traditional offer to "speak now, or forever hold your peace" rang through the air, and yet even as both Caleb and Anna sought him with their pleading gaze, he didn't crack beneath the weight of his own desires. As much as he loved Anna, he knew he would never choose himself. Not over a friend's happiness.

The kiss came and went (which Ben had forced himself to watch), and this time when Anna paraded past him down the aisle, she didn't seek his attentions. She forced a smile to her face, the expression extra dazzling, if only to conceal the hollowness in her eyes.

Ben's shoulders slumped, and the farther she drew away from him, the more frayed and snagged his heartstrings became. It felt as though they were being severed – that he was bleeding out, dying.

The church cleared out not long after, and everyone headed over to the Strong abode for celebration – everyone except Ben. He gazed forlornly upon the altar, at the exemplary life he'd chosen over her, and steeled his shoulders. He, too, could bear a cross, if the situation called for it, and yet he'd never imagined that his lifelong burden would be a woman. He would leave her upon the altar in his heart – sacrificed for the sake of keeping years of warm, incomparable friendship from burning into ash.

With a quaking breath, Ben said a quick prayer, and then turned to make his leave. As he departed from the church and out into the sweltering heat, something deep inside him slowly closed off. A secret, dark in its state of bloom, took root between his ribs and swallowed up his heart.

A/N: To those of you who are interested, I've made a Ben/Anna YT vid with plenty of manips (my username is KendraLuehr). I also have another one-shot for these two on my page that's predominately smut. As promised, here are the 18th century definitions:

backbiter - one who slanders another behind their back

chimping merry - exhilarated with liquor

chit - a young woman regarded with disapproval for her immaturity and lack of respect (also, an infant)

green gown - to have sex with a woman in the grass

bawdy house - a brothel

Thank you so much for reading! Any feedback is always appreciated.