Chapter Text
“John,“ Lady Ann said in a hushed tone as she squeezed her son’s shoulder. The young man’s teary eyes met hers. “The priests are going to take the body from the bedroom now. The funeral ceremony won’t begin before sundown,” she told him. “You didn’t sleep last night. You should get some rest.”
John rubbed his temples with his gloved hands and looked at his father again. The Great Lord’s face was pale but relaxed. The disease had caused him so much pain, but now he looked peaceful in his eternal sleep. It was John’s only consolation: to know that his father did not sufffer anymore.
“I don’t really feel like sleeping,” John admitted, his voice laced with grief.
“Fine, but I forbid you to stay here any longer. Why don’t you go to George’s place? It would be good if you took your mind off things a little,” Lady Ann suggested.
“Can you?” he wondered.
“No. Not yet. I just lost my husband,” she reminded him. “But life must go on, my lord.”
John shook his head and stood up. He didn’t want to think just yet about his new title or all the responsibilities he would have to handle from now on. Not when the pain was so fresh. “I guess I should go eat something and clean up a little,” he sighed.
“That’s my boy,” Lady Mitchell breathed. She touched his cheek fondly and let him go.
John left the room and went down the stairs, all kinds of thoughts harassing him at once. He would have to write to the clans’ chieftains and inform them of his father’s death. He also had to send a formal letter to Aklànd and summon Sir Anders to Brastàl’s court. Death spirit! Like he didn’t have enough pressure already, he also had to think about his marriage with a man he barely remembered. He would deal with all this in due time, but for now, he had to keep breathing, keep moving; keep living.
When he reached his bedroom, he noticed that the door was ajar. When he stepped in, a voice called his name. “John?”
“Carl?” John let out, astonished to see his old friend there.
Carl greeted him and pulled him into a warm hug. “I heard your father was sick and I came as soon as I could. How is he?”
“He is dead,” John blurted out, circling the taller man’s waist and pressing his face into his shoulder. He did not cry, he was too drained for that, but he let out a dry sob.
“Oh dear… I’m so sorry,” Carl whispered, putting a soothing hand on the back of John’s head. “So sorry, my friend…”
John clenched his fists in the fabric of the older man’s coat and didn’t let him go. Carl heaved a sympathetic sigh as he stroked the young man’s hair.
The taller man’s scent helped John relax and little by little, as they held each other in silence, his jaw unclenched and the pain lessened. The hands with long fingers were tracing tender patterns on his back and John knew he could let go in those arms.
When they slowly parted, Carl put his hands on the young man’s shoulders and scrutinized his face.
John looked back at his former lover and his unchanged face. He hadn’t taken on a wrinkle and still had the same eyes – dark grey like a sword’s blade but full of compassion and gentleness.
“You haven’t changed at all,” John marvelled, stopping himself from reaching and touching the handsome face.
“You did, though,” Carl whispered back, but he didn’t restrain himself from cupping the lord’s face in a callused yet soft and warm palm. “The boy who used to spy on my when I was training grew up a lot.”
John grinned, not repentant for his past deeds.
Carl tilted his head to the side. “And since…. you have the exact same smile you had the first time you dragged me behind the stables to kiss me.”
“I still enjoy kissing,” John flirted without shame. He couldn’t deny that those years apart had not lessened the attraction he felt for the older man in the slightest. He had always admired Carl for his strength of character, his patience; for his calm and steady presence. He could see that the guard still had all the qualities that had made John want him in the first place. And the tension that had drawn them toward each other back then was there, almost intact.
“You were so young, John,” Carl sighed, running the pad of his thumb on the dark stubble.
“Don’t feel guilty for what happened between us,” John replied, catching Carl’s hand in his. “Yes, I was young but I was perfectly aware of what I was seeking. I consider myself lucky that my desire was returned. I don’t regret anything, and neither should you.”
“My biggest regret is that I wasn’t there for you the last ten years when times were rough, but I know your father wouldn’t have allowed me to come back.”
“I guess not…” John conceded. “But you don’t owe me anything, Carl.”
Carl shook his head and he could not hold the lord’s gaze.
“I’m very happy to see you again,” John reassured him, closing his fingers around the guards’.
A small smile appeared on the guard’s face and he dared look at the younger man again. “So am I, Doe-eyes,” Carl teased.
“Nobody called me that for a very long time now,” John chuckled. He felt warmth in his chest as he stepped even closer to his former lover. Since the day Carl was banned from Brastàl, John had been curious to know how he would feel if he saw his old flame again. The desire was even more acute now that John knew the ways of attraction and pleasure better. He was no awkward teenager anymore.
The thumb that was running on his cheek changed its course to graze the lord’s lower lip. “I think the nickname still applies,” Carl observed in a low voice. His pupils were dark and devouring John’s face. “You still have those eyes, even if you look less like a fawn now.”
Without thinking, the young brunet placed a hand on the side of Carl’s neck and pulled the taller man down a little to seal his lips to his. Carl sighed in the kiss but he didn’t pull back. John knew he should be ashamed of kissing a married man, but his guilt vanished when the guard tilted his head to deepen the kiss and that his tongue caressed his lips.
When John moaned into the kiss, Carl pulled back firmly but without anger, holding John’s shoulders. “You are grieving your father,” he said with an apologetic look. “I don’t want to take advantage of you in a vulnerable moment.”
“I’m not fifteen anymore, Carl. Trust me,” John assured him, already stepping back into the guard’s personal space. “I know what I want. I always did.”
Carl rested his forehead on the Lord’s. He seemed resigned to the fact the burning sexual tension between them had to be resolved one way or another. “You are still driving me crazy, you know.”
John put his hand on the back of the taller man’s neck again with a cat-like smile. “Does it mean that you are still attracted to me?” he asked, even if the reply was obvious.
“It’s difficult not to,” the guard admitted, staring down at John’s lips. “You leave a permanent mark on people who once shared your nights, John. You should be careful, for you have a greater seduction power than you think.”
“I missed you,” John murmured.
“I missed you too,” Carl replied, and this time he was the one claiming John’s lips.
Guilt came back when John found himself tugging on Carl’s coat to bring him to his bed. But he wanted to feel the body he had adored and revered. With his father dead, his marriage was imminent and he would not be a free man for long. Besides, Carl and he had never had the chance to say goodbye and have a proper last time… and John was not forcing him to do anything. If the guard was ready to forget his husband for a night, he was not responsible.
When they tumbled on the bed, Carl asked for the permission to touch John under the waist. The heat and softness of the guard’s caresses on the side of his thighs made him want to mewl like the teenager he was the first time he had given the older man the permission to explore under his kilt.
As they exchanged long and leisurely kisses, John started unbuttoning Carl’s shirt. Carl did the same but the young lord stopped him mid-way. “I warn you: I’m considerably hairier than the last time you saw me naked.”
“Don’t worry,” Carl soothed with a kiss to his forehead, “Just let me undress you and then you can show me the magnificent man you’ve become.”
Reassured, John let the older man divest him from his shirt and kilt.
As he straddled the guard’s hips, the lord let an equally naked Carl run his hands through the black fur of his pectorals. The guard seemed fascinated and moved at the same time. “You are breathtaking, John.” Carl ran his hands up and down John’s biceps with an appreciative smile. “So strong and well-built,” he whispered with a gleam of pride in his grey eyes.
“I’m sure you are still stronger than me,” John pointed out as he lied down and pulled the other man down on top of him, seeking the warmth of his skin on his.
Carl pressed a kiss to the top of the younger man’s shoulder. ‘Nah. Look at you. I was always lean and lanky. I always knew, even when you were young and I was still your weapon master, that my student would surpass me in strength and skill. And I was right.”
Their kisses and touches became more urgent as they dived in this passionate and unexpected bliss. It felt good to John to be held by someone he trusted. It wasn’t perfect, though. John was not a giddy teenager anymore, and he fought to get the upper hand, as if he needed to prove that he was a man now. And Carl, who was used to a pliant and greedy boy, eager to please and learn, was a bit unsettled.
The sex managed to make John forget the pain of his recent loss for a brief moment as he took all the pleasure he could from Carl’s touch. But when they finally lay down in the calm of the aftermath, John’s head on the other man’s chest, a strange sensation of emptiness seized the young lord. He realized that even if he had had a lot admiration for Carl and that he still felt strong attachment and affection for him, that wasn’t love. There was something missing, and as much as he wanted to feel the excitement of his first sexual experiences again, he had grown and changed and it didn’t feel the same anymore. He thought of Carl’s husband again and his throat tightened.
“This…. This was a mistake…” he muttered, pressing a palm flat to the guard’s stomach and breaking their embrace slowly.
Carl didn’t try to deny it. “Yes. It was.“
“You knew this was going to happen?” John questioned, propping himself up on his elbow.
“No. I wasn’t planning anything.”
“You love your husband.”
“Deeply,” Carl breathed. “But I loved you too. And I thought of you a lot in the past years,” he confessed. “I think Daniel suspected this could happen when I told him I was coming here to see you… I saw it in his face.”
“And he still let you go?” John frowned
“He knew I had to make peace with my past. I had to know how it would feel to see you again.”
A long silence followed before Carl turned his head to look the young brunet in the eyes. “Making love to you: it felt amazing, John. But now I know for sure that it’s Daniel that I truly love. You are an important part of my past, but he is my future. ” He looked sorry as he reached to touch the warrior’s shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just need to be honest.”
That confession would have devastated John ten years ago maybe. But now, he realized he wasn’t hurt at all. “And I salute that. There was no version of the story where we ended up together.” He let himself collapse on the mattress again with a loud sigh. “I’m going to get married soon, Carl….with Sir Anders of Aklànd. He is going to be here in less than a moon.”
“Yes. My boy is a real lord now,” Carl smiled.
John pulled a face.
“Does that make you scared?” the guard asked.
“Yes and no.”
“’Meaning what?”
The warrior ran a hand through his messy hair. “I’ve been preparing for this marriage all my life…but what if he doesn’t like me?” he asked in a small voice.
“I doubt it’s possible.”
“I think it is, actually. I mean, I can be blunt when I speak my mind and I don’t always think before talking. I can be quick-tempered, cranky and-“
“If we only allowed perfect people to marry, the temples would go bankrupt,” Carl cut him off.
“Hm….” John emitted absentmindedly. “But imagine that he isn’t attracted to me at all… or I to him….”
“Then, you’ll become the best friends this country has ever seen and you’ll consider him like family even if you don’t share pleasure together at night.”
John stayed silent, staring at the ceiling.
“You don’t seem convinced,” the guard observed, shifting onto his stomach and resting his chin in his forearm.
“I admire your optimism,” John deadpanned.
Carl put an arm across the younger man’s stomach and scooped closer. “I’m sorry you can’t choose the one you are going to marry.”
“Father always said that Sir Anders was perfect for me. I guess I have to trust his judgement.”
Carl had heard about Anders Johnson before, and the reports spoke of him as an arrogant, rude, cocky and selfish individual. Of course, he kept this information to himself. He didn’t want to add to the young man’s doubts.
Later that night, Carl accompanied John to the funeral pyre and he stayed close to him, his face hidden under the hood of a cloak. Carl held John’s hand during the whole ceremony. Lady Mitchell recognized him but she didn’t speak to him or try to make any comment about his presence.
They slept together in John’s bed that night, but didn’t make love again.
“I’ll write to you,” John promised when they parted outside the city walls at the break of dawn.
“I’d be delighted to hear from you.”
They stared in each other’s eyes and John thought Carl would kiss him a last time, but instead, he hugged him and he patted his cheek with a fond smile before he climbed on his horse. And just like that, a whole era of John’s life came to an end. It wasn’t really sad, John noticed as he watched Carl disappear down the road, around the castle’s battlements. It was just how things were meant to be.