Their scouting was a success. They were able to push forward to explore further into Sreng’s territory. It was much different than their home. There were no signs of mountains and snow, instead laid flat land with scorching heat. The initial step onto foreign terrain was hard on their soldiers. They burned and exhausted themselves under the harsh sun, but King Lambert’s encouragement kept them going. There were a number of casualties, both from battle and weather conditions, but the men and women of Faerghus had high spirits, thanks to Lambert’s heartfelt speeches. His enthusiasm was downright infectious, after all.
They were still aways from their temporary headquarters, and Rodrigue could feel the threat of sleep pulling at his eyes. He was thankful that he kept himself behind Lambert, so he wouldn’t have to see his visible exhaustion. Their steeds were no better, their gait slow and stiff. If they didn’t stop soon, then the horses surely would. Still, Rodrigue made no suggestion or request to rest. His head shot straight up at the sound of Lambert yawning. His king arched his back and stretched his arms over his head.
“We ought to settle somewhere for the night. It’s getting quite dark, and I’m sure our horses could use a break,” Lambert chuckled, patting his mare on the neck. She snorted in response, then shook her head. “In fact…” He pointed straight ahead, squinting. “I believe I see a cottage in the distance. Shall we investigate?”
He wanted to say no. It was dangerous, and Lambert could not afford to be hurt or taken hostage. It could easily be a trap, their enemies hidden inside it to surprise them with an ambush, or there could be civilians inside who could run and alert someone nearby.
“…Yes, your highness.” Rodrigue nodded, as cautious as he still was. It was awfully convenient. His king was no idiot, but he was the trusting sort. One who could never say “no” to a pleading beggar or pushy merchant. Still, Lambert was more willing to open his pockets, toss coins, share his riches than he ever was about opening his heart. Rodrigue considered himself thankful for that.
As they drew closer to the seemingly abandoned home along the beachside, Rodrigue took note of its condition. The wood looked firm, still, despite it obviously having no one attending to its structure. Remains of garden patches laid near the side of the house, but they were overgrown with weeds.
The pair dismounted from their steeds and led them to the nearby stable. It was large enough for the two horses, but no more. The hay on the ground smelled of rot, and the horses showed no interest in even a sniff of it. The snooty things were likely used to the quality feed back home. Though, if they were feeling peckish, they would have lots of grass to eat when they returned to their camp, along with some treats Lambert would sneak to them when he thought Rodrigue wasn’t looking.
Lambert, despite Rodrigue’s protests, pushed past the door. The hinges were in desperate need of retouching, but the same could be spoken for the rest of the home.
“Well… it shall do, at the very least. It is not a vacation home, but we could treat it as such!”
“Hmm.” Rodrigue didn’t even attempt to sound convinced.
When that didn’t work to calm Rodrigue’s nerves, he tried a different approach. “It’s only for the night. We’ll leave as soon as we rise in the morning.”
“As you say.”
It seemed to have worked, at least for now.
“Oh!”
Rodrigue had just finished setting up the fireplace when came rushing into the bedroom, sword drawn, at the sound of Lambert’s exclamation. He swung his head around, eyes peeled for anything that could bring harm to the king. However, there was nothing to be found but an old, dusty bed.
“Rodrigue, at ease, please. I just was a bit… puzzled.” Lambert let out a sigh, though he did look impressed at his shield’s speed and stance.
“What seems to be the problem, your Highness?” Was there something he missed? If there was, he would hold that weakness against himself for the rest of his–
“Well, there is only one bed.”
Ah, so that was it.
“Yes?” Rodrigue tilted his head. Such a mundane thing to shout about, really.
“So—”
“I will find somewhere to rest elsewhere.”
“There is no elsewhere.”
“There is the floor.”
“The floor!” Lambert looked downright insulted, throwing his arm out in disbelief. “What do you take me for? I am not going to make you sleep on the floor.”
“I’ve slept in worse conditions.” He remembered their academy days where Rodrigue would find himself training overnight and finding a spot to sleep next to the stables. Lambert was an early riser, by choice, somehow, and was there to pull him up from the hay and convince him to skip class for the day.
“Regardless, there’s no need for that now. We shall share it. If you are comfortable with that, of course.”
Rodrigue swallowed down the desire that drew up from his heart. It wasn’t appropriate for them to be that close, especially with… how he felt. He was determined to keep such feelings unrequited, and for the past ten years, he’s done exactly that. He can’t afford to waste that effort now.
“…I will take the left side.”
This was more difficult to withstand than he thought. The two undressed in silence, which was odd for Lambert. It was odd for a room to be quiet when he was in the room, but as they stripped to their smallclothes, he noticed that Lambert kept to himself, his eyes, his hands, his terrible jokes… All were noticeably absent. The two made their way into the bed. Rodrigue moved onto his side, back turned to Lambert. He could only assume that Lambert did the same.
“Goodnight, your Highness.”
“Goodnight to you, too, Rodrigue.”
Rodrigue couldn’t sleep like this. Even with the distance between them, he could still feel how warm Lambert was. He shouldn’t indulge like this, but, perhaps, just a peek at his king’s sleeping face will coax him to slumber… He cautiously turned over to look upon Lambert’s face.
Lambert’s eyes were wide open. Rodrigue’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest.
“Ah— I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He looked apologetic, eyes averted with a sheepish smile.
“You didn’t frighten me.” Well, at least not for the reasons Lambert thought.
“Caused you discomfort, then?”
Rodrigue shook his head, insistent. “Not at all.”
“Truly?” Lambert’s warm, gracious, and true smile finally returned, and Rodrigue had never felt closer to the Goddess until now. “You’ve always been different from everyone else, Rodrigue. Do you remember, back at the academy, when we would stay up studying in my room, and you would stay the night, only because I insisted, of course.”
“I do.” He remembered them well. Such memories… he would always cherish them. He can’t help but smile, as well, and Lambert seemed excited to see his lips finally upturn, so he continued on.
“We would share the bed, just like this. It reminded me of when we were even younger. I had terrible nightmares, and you were there to hold me. Back then, you were taller than me, and your arms could wrap around my body twice over, if you so pleased!” He paused, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it again, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “…Those nightmares of mine never really stopped. As I grew older, it became less acceptable for me to still be bothered by them. Oftentimes it was easier to just not sleep at all. I… I see horrible things when I do. Sometimes what I see bleeds into reality, and… I hear the voices of those long past. It’s frightening. I… have not told anyone else this before. I thought it was a weakness of mine.”
“You are the strongest man I have ever known, your Highness.”
Lambert’s eyes looked more focused, now, as he listened to Rodrigue’s voice.
“To think you have been carrying this burden for so long… I cannot imagine. I am honored you would trust me with this. I know little of what you speak of, but… I assure you that it does not change how I think of you. You are strong, courageous, kind, a man to be awed, and I have always—”
“Always…?”
“I—” He felt his words die in his throat. He shouldn’t—no, he couldn’t say more, he’d only make a fool of himself and, even worse, break the trust the two had between one another. He coughed, then moved to turn back around. A strong hand pulled at his wrist, and he couldn’t move an inch even if he wanted to.
“Rodrigue.”
“Your Highness.”
Lambert gave him a look, and he tried again, with a little less confidence.
“…Lambert.”
“Better.”
“May I?”
“You may.”
When the king and his shield returned the next morning, naught was amiss. They continued with their plans and eventually won the war against Sreng. Though, some say that it was not strength that turned the tides. No, rather it was love, and the bards of taverns would sing the tale of lion and his faithful griffon for days to come.