The Burden of Breaking Hearts

Preparation

Warmth. Warmth and darkness. Darkness thick enough to swim in. 

He floated there in the warm darkness, regaining his strength with every passing second. He didn't dream--he rarely did so--he simply floated in the darkness. He began floating up; he could feel himself stirring. Light began to slip through the crack between Darion's eyelids. Before his eyes could even fully open, he began registering the source of warmth: his arms were wrapped around something.

Memories began returning and sensation soon followed. Not something; someone. He was laying on his side and Hernon was in his arms, pulled closed. The two fit together as if their only purposes in life were to lay with one another. Darion's eyes were fully open now, his sharp senses returning to him. He knew they weren't like this when they first got in the bed, but a part of him didn't want to move.

When they had gotten to the small home earlier that morning, Hernon had immediately stripped down to his undergarments and gotten into the bed. Darion had been a little more hesitant.

"You can't tell me that someone as intimidating as you is afraid of a bed," Hernon had mocked. The jeer was all it took to make Darion stop worrying; he wasn't afraid and he was going to prove it. Off went his boots and the rest of his clothes until he had been in nothing but undergarments. He had slipped into the other side of the bed and laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Hernon had rolled onto his side to face the other man. "See? That wasn't so bad was it?"

Now, Darion could feel the other man breathing; the smooth rhythm radiating calm. His nose detected the faint scent of roses. He found himself wanting to stay there forever, but judging by the amount of sunlight in the room, they had to get moving. He slowly removed his arm from around Hernon and slid out of bed, gathering his clothes. He roamed around the house on the tips of his feet until he found the washroom and cleaned himself off. The soap turned out to be the reason Hernon had faintly smelled of roses. The scent now covered Darion as he slipped his clothes back on.

A groan interrupted his trip past the bed to the kitchen. Hernon began to stretch as he awoke from his slumber.

"Is it already time to go?" he groaned, swinging his legs out of bed.

Darion watched as Hernon stumbled to his feet and stretched some more. "By the time I finish these potions the sun should be setting. After that, we make our stop, get into the castle, and get back here before the stroke of midnight."

The smell of roses drifted past Hernon's nose; he smiled a little at the thought of such a strong man as Darion smelling like something so fragile. Then again, roses have thorns.

Darion got to work in the kitchen as Hernon cleaned up. Darion was adding the final ingredient when Hernon came from around the corner.

"Have you seen my bow and arrows?" Hernon asked. He eyed the different herbs and spices laid out across the counter but kept his questions to himself.

Darion didn't break his concentration. "Why would I know where your bow and arrows are? I didn't even know you knew how to use them."

"Oh right, I forgot about that," Hernon said. He ducked back around the corner, returning after only a few seconds. "You know, if I had my bow and arrows, I'd probably have won that time we fought."

The potions began glowing pink as Darion finished the enchantment. "I highly doubt that," he said.

The potions were prepared, their blades and arrows were sharpened, the sun was getting low; it was time to set their plan in motion. Both men bore one of Hernon's dark cloaks as they walked through the streets. A question was floating around in Hernon's mind and he couldn't think of a better time to ask it. He sped up to match pace with the other man.