Requiem for a King [MxM]

In Such Sweet Sorrow

Quintus signalled an attendant to refill his glass of wine. Across the table, he spotted Gavrael laughing at his daughter, who was trying to feed him a roasted potato. An icy feeling pooled in his stomach, one he hadn't gotten since he left home to go to the necromancy archives.

Uncertain. Astray. But he'd pushed onward, thinking he was making the best decision for himself and his family. And then next time he'd set foot in his hometown, it was flat and sullied with blood, sand and flower petals.

His family, his home, everything, gone. He liked to pretend that if he'd been there, he could've saved them. And even now that he knew better, it still stung, because he didn't even get to try. And that was the root of all his heartache, wasn't it? He never tried. Because trying meant opening himself up to failure and heartache.

Octavia nudged his shoulder and nudged him out of his thoughts. She smiled at him over her own glass of wine. "You can stay, you know. I won't judge."

"What makes you think I want that?" he asked, a little too defensively.

She shrugged a shoulder. "I see the way you look at him. I've never seen you look at anyone like that before. I'm not not saying you should, but we could use a semi-permanent liaison in this region, if you're willing."

"You just don't like me running around on my own."

"That as well."

He breathed a sigh through his nose. "It doesn't matter. He said we can't be together."

"Oh. He rejected you? Are you okay?" Bless her heart, she sounded genuinely concerned.

And he couldn't lie to Octavia. "No. But I suppose there's no going back now. And besides all that, he's mortal."

"Listen, Quintus, I know you have a hard time deconstructing your feelings, but you both clearly like each other. Take tonight, open your heart and, for once, lay feelings bare, not for King Jaredeth, but for yourself. Think long and hard about what you stand to lose when you board that boat in the morning, and ask yourself if you're truly ready to lose it."

"Octavia—"

She shook her head. "Tell that man how you feel, Quintus, but tell yourself how you feel first. If it was just a fling, so be it. We'll go to Tandridge and you can forget about it. But if it was something more? Something worth pursuing? Don't rob yourself of that."

"I don't know how I feel, Octavia. I don't... I don't know if I can do this." He looked down into his wine as though the answers lied at the bottom of the glass. Express himself? Wear his heart on his sleeve? That was the antithesis of Quintus.

Octavia shrugged. "Well, you have until tomorrow to figure it out. I'm not telling you this because I believe I know what's best for you, but because you're my friend and I want you to be happy. And loved." She folded her napkin and set it beside her empty plate and turned to address the head of the table. "I have to retire early, I'm afraid. I bid you all a good night."

She breezed from the room, but not before a final round of goodbyes, and the attendants came to clear away her place setting.

Quintus sat and nursed his cup of wine. While the chatter and merriment encapsulated him. He watched Jaredeth smile and laugh with Edar and Torrian. Watched his mother bounce Jaliah on her knee.

He felt like he was outside in the cold looking in at this warm, happy family. And a strange sense of longing tugged at his chest. He wanted to be happy, but after living so long in misery, he didn't even know how. His glass of wine was still half full. He wasn't drunk, wasn't sure if he wanted to be. So he kept his head down until the merriment faded.

"Hey."

Quintus popped his head up and spied Gav retrieving his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Are you going up for the night?"

Quintus nodded and set the wine down. "I should."

Gavrael went out ahead of him, and he followed like a lovesick puppy. Tell that man how you feel, Octavia said. Quintus opened up his mouth to speak, but all the words died in his throat. What could he say now that would change Gav's mind?

As they mounted the steps to the second floor, his palms grew sweaty. He hadn't lied to Octavia. He didn't know how he felt, or at the very least, the words to describe it. And what if Gavrael didn't feel the same way? What if he'd only wanted a fling and nothing more?

They stopped in front of the onyx suite and Gavrael hit him with his stormy gaze. "Well, goodnight Quintus, and if I can't see you off in the morning, then godspeed. I'll make sure your barrel of ale is waiting for you at the docks." He turned to continue down the hall, but Quintus captured his hand.

"Wait." And he stood there, like an idiot, his mouth half open, not knowing what to say. "I... Would you like to come in?"

Gav looked down at their joined hands. "You know that would only make things worse for both of us. It'll only make it hurt more."

Quintus squeezed his hand. "It wouldn't."

"Quintus, you're leaving tomorrow, and I'll probably never see you again." He met Quintus' eyes again. "It's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me. I do. And I get it, you don't like to stay in one place too long. You don't like to be tied down. You don't..." He cleared his throat. "You don't want to stay."

"But I don't want to hurt you either," Quintus blurted out. This was his fault. He never should've gotten involved. Never should've grown attached. Now they'd both be ruined because of his carelessness. "Please..."

Gav gave him a smile that sent a thousand knives through his chest. "If you don't want to hurt me, then promise me you'll do whatever makes you happy." He slipped his hand from Quintus' and disappeared down the hall without a backwards glance.