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"I'm supposed to… I'm sorry, what?" Gilan stared at his boss, the Ranger's Corps Commandant, Crowley Meratyn, with an expression so disbelieving that it could put priests to shame.
Crowley only smiled at him in response, the smug bastard. "I know you're thrilled. I will relieve you of your duties so that you could give the task your full attention, of course."
Gilan let out a breath. Took another in, to say something – then changed his mind and let it out again.
The main problem was, he supposed, that he was, in fact, thrilled. Guarding Seley el'then for the time he was fulfilling diplomatic duties in Araluen seemed like a fun job. Responsible, obviously, but fun nevertheless. Seley el'then liked him. Gilan enjoyed talking to him. He, with utmost certainty, liked Seley el'then as well.
Perhaps a bit too much, now that he thought about it. He was thrilled but also nervous, but also excited, but also anxious, because he couldn't wait to see him and dreaded that moment, and couldn't help but smile, smile, smile at the bare thought of seeing him.
He wondered if Crowley knew that he was in love with Seley el'then. He came to a conclusion that he had to at least suspect something – he could assign Gilan to the task just because he spent a considerable time in Seley el'then's company in the past, but you don't become the Commandant just because king Duncan thought you have nice hair.
Crowley was probably aware of the big, fat crush Gilan desperately tried to hide. He was clever, cunning and… ah, yes, waiting for his response, because Gilan zoned out and was staring into nothing for a solid minute by then.
"Thank you," he replied, putting on his best smile. "I'll keep him alive if he's not too annoying."
He would rather get his hand cut off than let anything happen to Seley el'then, but he left that part out. The less people knew, the better they all slept, after all.
Crowley only shook his head in an exasperated way. "Halt and his apprentices…" Gilan decided to take it as a compliment, which must have shown, because Crowley shot him a pointed look. "It's not a compliment."
"I'll make sure to tell him that once I see him," Gilan said cheerfully, taking his leave before Crowley could banish him from the Corps.
Days passed quickly and soon, he was faced with the sight of a ship sailing into harbour. Gilan smiled when he saw Seley el'then making his way towards the king and, therefore, him. He was just as he remembered – tall, majestic and intimidating, with his brow furrowed in a serious expression.
He tried to compose himself. His heart might have whispered with longing for as long as it wanted – for a Ranger, it was always duties that came first, and his duty was to protect him, not to love him. Especially if, when, the feeling wasn't reciprocated.
After bowing to the king and exchanging formal greetings, though, when Seley el'then finally looked his way, it was like the sun came out from behind storm clouds. His whole face cleared and there was a glint in his eyes, a spark, that indicated affection. Not affection, Gilan corrected himself. Friendship was more suitable. For him, affection left room for a suggestion of something more, even if only when Seley el'then was involved.
"My friend," Seley el'then said, and Gilan almost melted because, oh, gods above, he forgot how soft his voice was, how incredibly tender and delicate when they spoke to each other. "It's good to see you."
"It's good to see you, too," Gilan replied, feeling a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's been a long time."
"Too long," Seley el'then agreed, and then bowed courtly, taking his hand and brushing his lips against its top. "But I am glad the wait is already over."
Gilan thought he was having a stroke. If he was to compare his brain to anything in that moment, it would probably be his thirteen year old self a second after doing a backflip and accidentally hitting his head on a table.
Because Seley el'then. Because he. Kissed his–
"Forgive me," Seley el'then hurried with explanations, and Gilan realized he must have misinterpreted his reaction (which was stunned silence and a facial expression similar to a one just after being hit with a brick, so it wasn't that surprising). "I didn't mean to overstep. I…"
"I didn't mind," Gilan cut in. "Really. You just surprised me, pleasantly, that is."
That wasn't what he expected, but he couldn't bring himself to complain. Really, who could, when Seley el'then's eyes started to shine with something so intimate, so intense, he had to turn his head. He couldn't take it. Not when he knew that this thing, this thing, that he wanted? That was something he would never have.
"I am glad," Seley el'then repeated, straightening back up. "But, my friend, I heard you were supposed to ensure my safety here?"
Gilan let himself relax. No matter what, it was his friend – and with his friend, he could leave his worries behind.
"Only if you're not too annoying," he replied, deadpan. "So beware the fact that you're on thin ice."
"Oh, I am not too worried," Seley el'then said, nudging him playfully as they made their way towards the castle. "I am responsible enough to take care of everything by myself."
"Of course," Gilan agreed without missing a beat, trying not to let a smirk appear on his face. "Like when we had to rescue the person you held hostage. And you wanted us to pay you for giving him back! So responsible, my friend, I cannot disagree."
Seley el'then mumbled something under his nose, clearly offended, so Gilan flashed him his most charming smile. It felt incredibly comfortable, to just walk by his side and look at him, and look, and he couldn't stop looking, not really, because every moment they spent apart was an ache that sang in harmony with his longing.
"Nothing to say?" Gilan said innocently, wanting to move closer for the briefest of seconds, moving away instead. Maybe the problem was, all along, that he couldn't bring himself to show Seley el'then that there was a possibility of something else.
"Nothing that would be welcome, I think. Are you perhaps willing to show me the way to my chambers? So you could make sure nothing eats me on the way," Seley el'then asked, seemingly uncertain, and Gilan tilted his head in slight confusion, because, wasn't that what he was supposed to do?
He was about to answer, and maybe gather the courage to ask what Seley el'then thought would be unwelcome – he didn't dare to hope, however… – but in that exact moment, the sun shone through the clouds, bathing Seley el'then in its light. It danced playfully in his eyes, slid down his nose and lingered around his lips, drawing Gilan's eyes to them. He swallowed, once, twice, then nodded quickly.
"I'll lead the way."
***
It didn't take long. In fact, they only managed to make it to one of the less frequently used corridors, when a person, dressed in black and holding a sword, blocked their way. Gilan immediately took out his own, scanning his surroundings in search of a second threat – a sword liked to pair up with a crossbow, he remembered, because most of the victims were too busy sword fighting to notice the arrow flying their way.
"Careful, there might be another one with some kind of a bow," he murmured, his eyes still on the assassin. "I'd very much like you to not get killed today, so please, do everything exactly as I say."
"You know, I'm not entirely unfamiliar with this whole getting assassinated business," Seley el'then replied easily, drawing his own weapon, and Gilan forced himself not to look his way, because the assassin started to get closer and he was clearly just a distraction, so…
He heard the arrow, the way it cut through the air, mere seconds before it reached him. The fact that the other person considered him a bigger threat than Seley el'then was flattering, he had to admit, but he wasn't sure if that assumption was correct.
He knocked the arrow down with his sword, the blade glistening as he moved it with unbelievable speed. Then, he took out one of his knives in a swift motion, and threw it at the swordsperson, hitting them right between their ribs. They fell to the ground, unmoving, and he had to restrain himself from winking at Seley el'then, who was busy looking at him like it was the first time he saw him, with such adoration that Gilan's heart tripped over itself.
"I know," Gilan said, teasing but still alert. "However, you talk too much when you face mortal danger. This could get you killed one day."
"Not if you defeat everyone who wants to kill me before I manage to blink," Seley el'then retorted, stepping closer. Gilan felt his breath hitch.
"There's still one left," he replied quickly, turning his back on him. "We can continue pointless conversations later."
He doesn't want you like this, Gilan told himself. He's obviously being friendly. He was reading too much into it. Duty – not love. Not when it was unwanted.
"Of course," Seley el'then retreated, a hint of resignation in his voice that Gilan wanted so badly to be real, he must have imagined it. "Of course," he repeated, his tone perfectly neutral, as if he was unsatisfied with the way it was pronounced before. "As you wish. You're the boss here, my friend."
Gilan looked up, the direction the arrow came from just slightly too obvious. He could try shooting there, yes, but was there any point in doing so? He didn't feel like any of those attacks were real – they weren't serious, not entirely, like he was being played with. But if not this direction, then surely not the opposite one, too, that would be too predictable, and Gilan was starting to suspect their opponents were familiar with Rangers enough to have a dangerous insight into his abilities.
Not there, also, so maybe from the back. The front? He listened, but he didn't hear that sound he knew so well, the sound that would alert him…
There, behind Seley el'then. He jumped to him, his sword ready, but – the arrow not aimed at his friend, a soaring pain in his chest, and he stumbled, gasping for air, unable to process the situation. But he had the last knife, and he had his sword, and so he flung them, one after the other, over Seley el'then's shoulder, a desperate attempt to protect him, and only when he heard a strangled shout, quickly replaced with the sound of a body hitting the floor, only then he allowed himself to fall, his legs giving out.
And he was falling, but not for long, because Seley el'then caught him, his eyes frantic with worry as he whispered something, his voice on the verge of a break, but Gilan couldn't make out the words. The thing that captured his attention was that Seley el'then was holding him to his chest, gently, caressing his back with trembling hands, and, oh, Gilan was falling, falling, falling.
"Stay with me," Seley el'then whispered, lowering them both to rest on the floor. "Please. Just until help arrives. I'm sure that someone…"
"I want to tell you," Gilan rasped out, every breath a struggle, "I really didn't mind that kiss."
Seley el'then let out a shaky breath, then, trying to smile at him, even though his eyes welled up with tears. "I know, my love, I know," he assured him softly. "You can tell me later. I'm certain you'll come out of this unscathed."
"Always, as long as I'm held by you," Gilan replied, barely a huff of air, closing his eyes, his lungs hurting in a way that seemed final.
"Don't leave me yet," Seley el'then begged, touching his cheek, planting a small kiss on it, his mouth quivering. "Not yet…"
Gilan interrupted him, taking his hand and raising it to his lips, his now bloodied lips, to brush it against them, mimicking the way Seley el'then greeted him, wanting to say goodbye in a way that mattered.
He wanted to say something – to confess that he regretted not saying he loved him earlier, to say he wanted things to be different. But, in the end, Seley el'then knew all that, didn't he? So there was no point.
He simply turned his head, cuddling into Seley el'then's chest, and let himself exhale. Inhale, and exhale. Peacefully, slowly. There was no rush. He could hold out until help came.
Inhale. His breath hitched, his mouth filled with blood. Exhale. Inhale. They could hurry, he thought. It hurt.
Nothing surrounded him anymore.
Exhale.