Disclaimer: I do not own the Pathfinder franchise, which I will borrowing from heavily during this story, any coincedence from a character to a person in real life is not intentional, etc, etc...

Claimer: But I do own sexy!Nathan/Leo and these stories, so you can't have them. ;D

Warning: This'll be good 'ol boy on boy fiction, so if you don't like that kind of stuff, plz leave kthxbai. Also there'll be much slaughtering of fat guys, wererats, and bad drow ladies so if violence/death isn't your cup of tea, again, plz leave kthxbai. And heed the fic rating as well. Finally getting close to some slashy-type stuff! :D

The Church of Cayden Cailean

Chapter 6

After the incident with the snake, there were no further uprisings in the Gold Goblin for the next few weeks. Apart, of course, from the occasional drunken brawl that Nathan and Leo would have to break up. Nathan was one person in particular who was happy about the lack of criminal assaults on the establishment. Still worried about the possibility of an overly dangerous enemy coming in the future, he happily settled for the much weaker drunkards.

Sensing the apprentice alchemist's apprehension after the kitchen fiasco, Leo had begun to teach Nathan how to fight each night after their daily shifts. Or perhaps 'attempted' to teach Nathan how to fight was a better way of putting it.

It wasn't that Nathan was unskilled; Leo said that Nathan was surprisingly agile for someone as inexperienced as he was in the art of combat. After practicing with swords, maces, axes, daggers, bows, crossbows, and every other weapon they could think of, they settled on throwing weapons. Which according to the cleric, Nathan seemed to have an uncanny aptitude for.

Nathan could only think back sadly to Thuvalia along with her cronies, and their unfortunate fate that resulted because of that unusual talent of his.

His problem with fighting was his morality. Every time he sparred with Leo, or another voluntary employee at the Gold Goblin, he'd look into their eyes, and the illusion of fighting an opponent would vanish. It was replaced with a real person, a real person who had people who cared about what happened to them. Guilt would wash over him, and Nathan would drop his weapon. This exasperated and confused his sparring partners to no end.

All of his sparring partners except Leo.

The cleric would give him a sad, understanding smile and call off the fight, oftentimes to the onlookers' voracious disapproval. Leo would clap him on the back and tell him he did a good job, and that they'd try again tomorrow. Sometimes he'd also say something that Nathan couldn't make sense of, but even after repeated inquiry he wouldn't tell the apprentice alchemist what he meant by it.

"Maybe tomorrow you'll understand, Nathan."

Understand what? The cleric never gave any clues to what he meant, and Nathan many a night went to bed wondering what the other man was trying to get him to comprehend. He didn't think Leo was trying to be difficult or anything of that sort. After his somewhat awkward exit out the kitchen a couple weeks prior, Leo had been acting normally towards Nathan. He enjoyed the cleric's company, and cherished the time they shared together.

As much as he didn't like it, he and Leo had become good friends. Leo seemed to be endlessly amused by Nathan's quiet, often uncoordinated behavior, and the cleric's uproarious antics left Nathan in laugh-induced tears most hours of the day. They had become close, and were seen most of the time in each other's company.

He had talked to Petunia about his situation, concerning both his lack of fighting heart and his reluctance to become good friends with Leo. Her reply was to the point...

"Nathan, you're a good boy. I've never seen you lose your temper or say something mean to someone else. You don't get angry or violent on command. It's just not your nature to fight without an appropriate cause. I bet if and when you find your reason to take up arms, you'll be as fearsome a warrior as anyone has ever seen," adding the last part with a good-natured wink.

Nathan could understand that. When he was sparring he was just doing it because he thought it might prepare him better for the future. It was mostly Leo's idea to practice, not his. And while fighting to protect the Gold Goblin was a cause, he didn't feel any permanent ties to the place yet. He was protecting the establishment because he said he would, and because he was getting paid for it. Not out of the goodness in his heart. As horrible as that sounds, Nathan thought silently to himself.

"And for this Leo character… I understand your reluctance, and your reasons behind it. But it's been years Nathan, eleven years since you've had a friend. I think…. It might do you some good if you had someone to talk to, to be friends with." Petunia tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear to keep it from falling in front of her face, her gaze warm and caring. The woman was feeling less and less like a friendly mentor as the days passed; she was becoming more and more like a pleasant mother in Nathan's eyes.

"But Petunia. If he goes… like they did… I don't think I could handle it." She was the only person who he had told about his past, during one cold night years ago when he was feeling particularly helpless and she feeling particularly ready to listen.

Nodding, the middle-aged woman looked remorseful. "What happened to your parents was a rare occurrence Nathan… things like that don't happen everyday. The risk of it happening again, to you again; is completely miniscule."

He had agreed with her, not truly feeling convinced of her point, but not wanting to be argumentative. He supposed she was right... but it still didn't change his views about the whole situation.

And so here he was, relaxing in his room one sunny morning. Or at least, as sunny as it could get with that blot hanging over the city like an ominous cloud. The cyphermages still couldn't figure out the cause of it, but as far as they knew, it was still completely harmless. Just a nuisance to some, and a figure of wonder for others. Nathan personally didn't care one bit about the blot over the town. The city was dark enough anyways. Both literally and figuratively.

He had the vials of acid Vancaskerkin gave him out on the desk, lined up in a row on the wood, each bottle up against the wall. They were a sickly green color, the color of olives mixed limes. The fluid was milky, a trace of silver gracing the sides of the glass container occasionally when moved. Nathan hadn't asked Vancaskerkin why he had needed the substance in the first place, and wasn't about to ask. He had talked with the man sparingly over his stay at the Gold Goblin, wanting to interact with Vancaskerkin as little as possible. Larur the floor manager had been the one he conversed with the most. Besides Leo of course.

There was a knock at his door, and Nathan looked up, an expression of surprise on his face. No one ever came to get him while he was in his room. Not in the entire time he had been staying at the Gold Goblin. Ever. It had been his safe place, his sanctuary, to think and ponder about the new chain of events in his life. Pushing back from his desk, Nathan stood up and walked over to the door to open it.

All irritation washed away at the welcome sight before him.

"Hey, Nathan. You doing anything right now?" The apprentice alchemist shook his head; whenever Leo asked him to hang out, he always suddenly had nothing to do.

"No… I've got today off. I'm guessing you do too?" The other man nodded happily. "How come you asked?"

The cleric broke out into a wide smile. "'Cause, well, I've got to go over to the Publican House to report in to my superior. I haven't for weeks. High Publican Rolf is probably furious at me." Nathan pretended to understand what the name of the place and Rolf's title meant. Probably something relating to his faith?

"Anyways, I was wondering if you'd like to come too. I was going to get a drink after I finished business, so I can get you one too. It'll be on the house."

Trying to ignore the uncomfortable-yet-comfortable feeling in his stomach, Nathan smiled and nodded. "Sure Leo, I'd love to."

The cleric was beaming. "Awesome, you ever been there before? It's a good place to have some fun with friends; it's a lot less like a church than a lot of people think." So the publican house was Riddleport's church to Cayden Cailean? Trying to wrap his head around the odd concept, Nathan followed Leo as he led him out of his room, down the stairs, and out of the Gold Goblin.

Sure enough, the blot lay heavy and low in the late morning sky. As they walked down the street, Leo stared up at it, and then turned his head to Nathan. "Do you ever get a weird feeling about that thing? It's just so… gloomy looking."

"No, I think I'm maybe just getting used to it. The cyphermages seem to think it's alright."

Leo didn't look convinced. "Yeah… but, I don't know. It's just weird. I heard one old wizard flew up there to find out what it was like, and ended up reporting back saying that it just felt really cold. Like an ordinary cloud, but incredibly freezing. I mean, why is it there? Why would someone put it there? Is it just some kind of crazy magical accident?"

He was voicing Nathan's thoughts for the past couple weeks on the subject almost word for word. "I don't know Leo, no one knows. I guess we'll all find out eventually." He hoped that when the time did come, it wasn't a dangerous 'eventually.' The cyphermages didn't seem to think so, and they were the experts on the scene.

The pair were silent the rest of the way until they reached the publican house, a large hanging sign with a large mug emblazoned on it, the wooden plank swinging slightly in the wind. The church itself was in decent condition, painted a warm brown color with maroon hued window panes. It seemed like a homely place, the wood well-preserved and the paint lovingly applied. Nathan could almost feel a... sort of aura coming from the building, as if it exuded a sense of well-being and welcome.

Maybe it was just his mind creating something where there really wasn't, based on his expectations. But one couldn't be so sure of such things when it came to the divine.

"Well, we better get on with it. I'm not looking forward to talking with High Publican Rolf, but I gotta one way or the other. No use in stalling, right?" With a pained expression, Leo opened the caramel-colored door and walked inside, Nathan following close behind.

Nathan was assaulted right away by the strong scent of pumpkin spice and ale, the delightful combination threatening to knock him off his feet that very second. After he regained his balance, Nathan took in the sights around him. Which was not what he was expecting at all.

The church was a tavern. There were no pews, no winding aisle that led to an altar. Instead there was a bar against the far wall, kegs propped up on the back counter and a rough-looking bartender serving drinks to several equally rough-looking customers. The room was filled with what Nathan estimated were a good ten, fifteen people, all laughing merrily and listening to a man to the side playing an upbeat tune on a mandolin.

It was hard to take in at first. Had his good-natured friend truly taken him to his place of faith? He knew Cayden Cailean was the patron deity of freedom, bravery, and alcohol, but would his followers really congregate in such a place?

But as Nathan silently scoured the scene, he saw subtle signs here and there that it truly was a church. For one, all the kegs had the unorthodox god's symbol branded onto their sides. Another clue was the golden and brass colored medallions most of the laughing people wore around their necks. One or two even wore a simple looking, brown robe with a maroon stitching of the mug on their chests. It was definitely a location touched by Cayden Cailean.

Leo just took a deep breath, inhaling the rich smell around them. A smile lit up across his face, a different one than he usually wore, Nathan noticed. It seemed like he was finally at peace, his seemingly boundless reserves of energy finally calmed. It looked like he was finally home.

Nathan smiled at the thought. Even as stressed as the other man must be, with the impending encounter with High Publican Rolf in the near future, Leo was completely and totally at rest. This was his home, not the Gold Goblin as it had begun to seem to Nathan. He found himself wrestling with a profound want, an urge to know the stories that Leo had heard in this place, and what stories had sprung up because of his role as a cleric here.

Leo broke his introspection by placing a hand on Nathan's shoulder and speaking in his deep voice. "Shall we?" He began walking towards a door placed behind the bar's counter, nodding curtly at the bartender. The rough-looking man gave an excited yell and slammed his fist on the counter hard enough to shake the glasses resting on top of it.

"Leo Haywold?! Well, I'll be, I was beginning to think you'd never come back!"

The cleric only chuckled and shook his head. "So was I Benjamin, so was I. Thought it would be nice to visit and let everyone know I'm not dead just yet."

Benjamin laughed loudly, the boisterous sound rolling up from what seemed the bottom of his feet and gaining in strength until it blasted out of his mouth. "And that in itself is a wonder, Leo! You get yourself into more trouble sometimes than a kitten waltzing into a kennel of attack dogs!"

Nathan only stared at the exchange between the two men. Apparently they knew each other well, the lighthearted teasing seemed to prove as much.

Leo nodded, grinning. "That's true, my friend. Though, the same could be said of yourself!" Benjamin just shrugged, still snickering to himself. "Is High Publican Rolf around? I need to report in to him, we haven't talked for ages."

Raising his big hands to wipe tears from his eyes, Benjamin nodded and pointed towards the door that Leo had been headed towards. "Yep, he's in there. Goin' over some documents and stuff for the house. We're getting low on the ale I guess."

The big man seemed to notice Nathan for the first time, his eyes moving past Leo and onto him. "And who do we got here?"

Leo stepped to the side and pushed Nathan forward, the latter stumbling a bit in the process. "This is my friend Nathan; we're working together at the Gold Goblin. He's a bit shy, but he gets over it soon enough."

Red rushed into Nathan's cheeks at the comment, causing him to fluster and stutter his greeting. "Oh- I- uh- h-hello Benjamin, it's nice to meet you. I'm N-Nathan, like Leo said." He clenched his fists, cursing his ever present inability to act normally in most social situations.

Benjamin nodded slowly, obviously trying to stifle a laugh at Nathan's nervousness. "Good to meet you too Nathan. I'm surprised you're still alive, that being with Leo's shenanigans and all." What was he talking about? Leo never played any dangerous tricks or anything of the sort during their stay at the Gold Goblin.

Leo grabbed Nathan's arm, and pulled him towards the door. "Oh, I've been on good behavior for this particular job Ben. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this reunion short. Every minute spent away from the High Publican will only make things more difficult. Knowing him, he probably somehow knows I'm here by now."

"Go ahead Leo, I'm sure we'll have time enough afterwards to catch up. I'd do the same in your place. Ol' Rolfie isn't the warmest man on Golarion, huh?" So Leo's superior was grumpy. Wonderful.

"Thanks for understanding, friend." Benjamin gave a warm smile in response, and turned to watch the performance put on by the bard in the corner. The tall man was now playing a softer song, his words less bouncy and more emotional. The people were no longer laughing in response to the music; they were now listening intently and carefully to the words.

But before he could try and listen himself, he and Leo entered the door in the back wall. Nathan found himself in a small, cramped space littered with shelves and desks full of papers. At the end of the room, if the small space could even be called a room, there was a large man seated at a desk, head bent over the papers. He was bald, but had a long, grizzly beard that seemed to make up for that particular absence of hair.

The man looked up, his beady eyes scrunched together at the sight of Leo. "Hmph. Leo Haywold. You're late."

At the defeated sag in Leo's shoulders and his exaggerated sigh, Nathan could tell that things weren't going to go too well.

A/N: So I decided I'm gonna start doing one of these at the bottom of the page. This chapter was originally a lot longer. ...A bit too long, so I had to cut it off here to make it a more appropriate length. Good thing is that means the next chapter will be up soon cause I've got some of it written already. :D

Also, a new character will be entering the group soon, some people will grow to like her, some people will grow to hate her, and most will just eventually feel sorry for her. :[

I liked describing Leo's church in this chapter! I chose Cayden Cailean as his deity because it seemed to fit his personality, and a battle-cleric would fit in well with this god's clergy. It's working out well, such an unorthodox god for a cleric is entertaining to write about.

Comments/reviews help me keep motivated, which is a definite problem of mine considering how long this story's been online! Over a year and only six chapters?! BAD AUTHOR.

And lastly! I'm looking for a beta, so if anyone is interested.... ;D wonderfulness shall ensue.