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It had been a long night on the border. The Karsites had launched a surprise attack on their camp early in the night and there had been casualties on both sides. The fighting had lasted many difficult candle marks.
Jonne found himself drenched in sweat despite the cold even long after the fighting had stopped. He sighed wearily and bent to scoop up some of the ankle high snow at his feet, rubbing it over his face. It melted quickly and left rivulets of water streaming down his face.
The camp's occupants had mostly retreated to their tents. These men and women would sleep easy tonight, so exhausted they would be asleep soon after their heads hit their pillows. Jonne planned on joining them soon after checking on one thing that taken root in his tired mind, one that bore investigating before he could succumb to the sleep he so desperately needed. Vanyel's state of mind. He'd last seen the young Herald Mage summoning a bolt of lightning that struck down four Karsites in a flash of brightness that hurt his eyes to see, followed by screams of pain. The bodies had lain charred and were still at Vanyel's feet.
Jonne had seen a distant look in those silver eyes that worried him. He'd been dragged back into the fight before he could think too deeply on it or check on his lover. Vanyel had disappeared after the fight's conclusion and hadn't been seen since.
Jonne knew where to find him. He ventured to the mountain facing side of their camp where a sparse group of tents for generals lay. Vanyel had chosen to camp in this less occupied section. Jonne had noticed he put in a lot of effort to be alone. He wasn't sure if the noise of soldiers carrying on into the night kept him awake, or if it was a chronic dislike for company that kept him so far away from the others.
He pushed aside the flaps of Vanyel's tent like he had many times the past few weeks for late night trysts and squinted in the dim light within. Vanyel lay on the far side of the tent, still in his bloodstained tunic, knees pulled close to his chest. Jonne heard soft muffled sobs and quickly sat beside him, laying a dry calloused hand on his shivering shoulders. “Shh, love,” he said softly. “What's the matter?”
As Vanyel raised a hand to wipe the tears from his eyes Jonne saw a flash of red on his wrist. He cursed under his breath and grabbed Vanyel's hand, forcing him to straighten his arm as he laid it down on his own lap. An alarming amount of crimson blood leaked from multiple slashes on Vanyel's wrists. “You're hurt,” Jonne exclaimed. “Do you have bandages? That looks bad.”
To his surprise, in response Vanyel got to his feet and bolted. Jonne followed a second or so after, barely catching him by the back of his tunic at the opening of the tent. Vanyel pulled away, trying to loosen his grip. Jonne was a much larger man however, and he knew Vanyel would never resort to magic and potentially harm him.
“Darling, it's alright,” Jonne soothed, pulling him into his arms. “Let me help. You've lost too much blood. You'll collapse out there all by yourself.” The camp was practically empty. Vanyel had no cloak or any warm covering and the cold outside was enough to sting Jonne’s eyes and nose. Vanyel could die of exposure out there.
A strangled sob escaped Vanyel's throat before he went limp suddenly. Jonne caught him under the arms before he fell to the ground. He was awake but unsteady on his feet, probably from blood loss. Jonne dragged him back into the tent, laying him gently on the bedroll before ripping a strip of fabric off his tunic. He brushed Vanyel's dark hair away from his frightened eyes before wrapping his injured wrist tightly with the fabric, tying it into a tight knot.
“You'll be visiting a medic soon,” he said with no room for argument. “But that should do for now. Now, what happened here? Those wounds look…” He couldn't bring himself to finish. He knew what they were, but it was an uncomfortable topic, particularly for Vanyel if he was willing to run out into the cold like that. For such a powerful Herald Mage, he worried Jonne deeply. Magic wasn't enough to solve everything unfortunately.
“Self inflicted,” Vanyel snapped, turning away from him on his bedroll. “I know. They are. You weren't supposed to find out.”
“Well, I'm glad I did,” Jonne said, feeling a bit angry. He was usually relatively alright with Vanyel needing some space to process his thoughts, but if those thoughts led to this, that was where this tolerance ended. “You should tell someone when you're hurt, regardless of the reason. What if you passed out from blood loss and no one knew?”
“I don't care,” Vanyel said stubbornly, still not willing to face him. Jonne couldn't see his face but knew the irritated expression that must be on it.
“You should!” He yelled, far too loud for the silence of the tent. Vanyel flinched and looked away. “You are acting like a child. You could have talked to me! There's so many things you could have done that didn't lead to this. Don't you think so would have been willing to comfort you? I'd do whatever you needed. I want to.”
“I- “ Vanyel started, then fell silent, biting his lip. “I didn't think. I was just so upset, and it's always helped before…I usually deal with this by myself.”
Immediately Jonne regretted what he'd said. “Gods- Vanyel, I'm sorry,” he groaned. “I just worry about you. I'm upset because you're hurt, not because you've done something wrong. You've been so distant lately. You know I love you. I want to know what possessed you to hurt yourself like this. Let me help you.”
“It helps,” Vanyel said. “It helps more than anything else any of the Mind Healers have told me to try.”
“Helps with your emotions, I presume?” Vanyel's emotions were like an impossibly deep well, one that Jonne would be afraid to dip his hand into lest he fall in and drown. Vanyel lived looking into that well everyday. Jonne could see the dark water reflected in his eyes sometimes, could see Vanyel endlessly treading water with no ledge to hold on to.
“It makes me stop feeling,” Vanyel explained. “There's too much feeling, too many memories. I miss him. I miss him all the time. He should have been here with me today. After I killed those men his hand should have been on my shoulder, telling me it would be alright, that we were still together and we weren't alone. But it was just me, standing there with an empty space beside me. We should have been fighting together. Mardic and Donnie went together, at least. That's how it should be with lifebonded pairs. One isn't meant to live without the other. You know they have a saying over in Perlona. It comes from an old law about lifebonds and marriage. Any arranged marriage is automatically nullified by the presence of a lifebond. Because ‘marriage is better than death’. Word for word, that's what it says. They're right. It's considered kinder to let the remaining lifebonded suicide, rather than leave them to suffer without the other.”
Jonne wanted to say Vanyel wasn't alone, that he was right here with him. He realized Vanyel was right though. He was alone, without a lifebonded. That kind of loss left a hole in someone, an absence felt so strongly that one seldom lived through it. That hole that Tylendel had left was not a place Jonne could ever step into. He said he'd understood back in the cave a few weeks ago. Now he was wondering if he really understood as much as he thought did back then.
“Tylendel,” Jonne said, and saw Vanyel since at the name.
“Yes,” he said simply. “Tylendel. They don't like to talk about him in Haven, you know. Gala- his Companion- repudiated him. Companion bonds are supposed to be for life. Heralds are supposed to be pure of heart. I know he was. He was just in so much pain and he made a mistake. A horrible mistake. One of the only bonds he had left was shattered that night.”
“Except yours.”
“It wasn't enough to make him stay. He didn't know we were lifebonded, but he felt it. But I wasn't enough."
Jonne felt tears coming to his own eyes and he tried to hold them back, to be someone strong for Vanyel to hold onto. He was always a problem solver, someone to rationally talk through it with until a solution was found. This was a problem with no ideal solution though. The solution was death, and he couldn't bear to let Vanyel go. So many people couldn't. Was that selfish? He'd seen Vanyel be happy. They'd shared good times together, sex and drinking and long conversations stretching into the morning. There was still that sadness behind his eyes though. Momentarily forgotten, it always returned, an eternal reminder of what had happened and mentally would always be happening, again and again. Time didn't heal all wounds it seemed.
Jonne wanted to hit something. It wasn't fair, all Vanyel had been through. He was one of the kindest men Jonne had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He wished Vanyel so much happiness that the world seemed determined to keep from him. He looked at those sad silver eyes and felt a surge of protectiveness. I want to keep you, he thought. I want to keep you so badly. I want you tucked away somewhere safe where none of these thoughts and the pain they bring can ever find you. I can't decide whether that's wrong or right. Would admitting that perhaps Vanyel should have died when he'd tried to end his own life ten years ago be as evil as he felt it was? Seeing him in this much pain made him consider it. I don't want to let you go, but maybe that would be the right thing to do, if it ever comes to that. Maybe it was the right thing to do back then.
“I think you were enough,” he finally managed to say. “As you said, he was blinded by pain. That can make you do something that would normally be unthinkable.”
“I wonder if he regretted it.” Vanyel rolled over to look at him now, face blotchy and red from crying. He was so pale already and the color was striking against his fair skin.
“I think he did, wherever he is.” The air was filled with the absence of someone Jonne had never met and never will. In that moment he imagined he knew Tylendel, this boy who had captured Vanyel's heart and then shattered it into a thousand pieces. He was angry at him and felt sorry for him simultaneously. So much pain happened that day, and it had only led to more for everyone involved. If the people of Haven wanted to forget Tylendel, Jonne would remember him, if only for Vanyel's sake. If Tylendel was forever lost to Vanyel, the love they'd shared wasn't. It remained, coveted by the one left alive, a small half grown seedling watered by tears. The happiness it had once provided should be remembered, not just the pain.
Jonne made up his mind then. He didn't know whether it was wrong or right for Vanyel to be alive right now when his lifebonded had died a long time ago. He didn't know if it would be too cruel to try and keep him alive if he was dying in the future. What he did know was that right now, he would make this man as happy as he could, for as long as he could. If he could alleviate his suffering in any amount and make him feel just a bit of the happiness he gave to others, it would be worth keeping him here right now. He could be a shoulder to cry on for Vanyel tonight, and that was the best he could do right now.
He ran his fingers through Vanyel's hair lovingly and hummed soothingly. ‘You hurt yourself because it was the only way to stop feeling pain- intolerable pain, anyway. It all goes numb, doesn't it?”
Vanyel nodded. “Numb like ice and winter. Their cold can shut everything else out. When the world is too loud and you hurt yourself, everything is muted and colorless. It's nice, when everything is too overwhelming. The blood and the physical pain is all there is right then. Blood on the snow. Just red on white. Nothing else. That's the best I can ask for sometimes.”
Neither of them said anything, just listened to the wind battering the sides of the tent. It was so cold tonight, the coldest day of winter so far. He noticed Vanyel shivering and pulled him close, pulling the blanket on the bedroll over them both. He noted with relief that the makeshift bandage hadn't soaked through with blood. Hopefully no stitches would be needed.
Vanyel laughed half-heartedly. “I still don't know how you find me attractive. I'm so thin. My aunt Savil says she can see my ribs more clearly every time she sees me. This cold is almost unbearable, and you're always holding me to keep me warm. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Jonne smiled. “Don't thank me for such a lovely experience. Holding you is a pleasure no matter your size. I've told you before and I'll tell you again, you're a beautiful man, Vanyel Ashkevron. I worry about your health, but that has no impact on your beauty. Besides, if I have my way and the triple rations I've asked for for you, you'll be too plump for your Whites in a month or so. It's about time you go up and not down a few sizes. I'm happy to take care of you. Your aunt will thank me, too.”
The atmosphere of the tent had lightened a bit. Vanyel leaned over for a quick kiss. “You’re too good to me.”
“People haven't been good enough to you,” Jonne corrected. “Now, we need to head to the Healer. Come on now.” He offered a hand to Vanyel and helped him to his feet. His lover swayed a bit but stayed upright.
“I can go myself,” Vanyel claimed.”It's late. You should get some sleep.”
He would certainly not be going by himself. “No, you'll be coming with me,” John told him. “I don't trust you not to faint. And you're mad if you think I'm leaving you alone after what's just happened. We can sleep together tonight. The fun part can come after your wounds are cared for.”
Vanyel pouted dramatically. “Aww, making me wait? Tease.” He nudged him with his elbow before his smile dropped. “Jonne…” He said. “I don't want them to know what happened. “
“They won't,” Jonne reassured him. “We'll say they came from somewhere else. We'll figure this out together. If anyone says anything to you about this I'll beat them myself.”
“My hero,” Vanyel laughed. He looked away into the night. The sky was clear tonight and peppered with bright stars. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to trouble you with this.”
“It's no trouble. People care about you, love. Let them.”
As they set out to find the Healers tent under the blanket of stars above, Vanyel found himself thinking he just might.