Forever

The wind is blowing fiercely at the top of the castle wall, and the air smells of the promise of an incoming storm. As he climbs the stairs, he can hear the gale whistling through the stonework and regrets agreeing to meet his protege all the way up here. The wall might be one of Jory's favorite places in the Seawolf estate, but Simon would rather be tucked away in the warm glow of his office, or the quiet of the stables.
As he passes a loophole in the stairwell wall he pauses to look out, at the roiling sea and gray sky, and shakes his head before continuing to climb. For as long as he's lived here - and it's been twelve years - he still doesn't understand the love the natives have for the ocean. He has a healthy respect for it, and yes it can be beautiful, but it is also dangerous and unpredictable.
He thinks if it weren't for the way Roarke loves it so, Jory might have grown up to feel more reasonably about it; but his Guardianalis holds close to his heart anything that their young Lord Seawolf holds dear. And, in all fairness, Jory was born here too, and he swims like an otter himself - perhaps it was inevitable. At least he doesn't have to worry about them drowning.
For today's uncomfortable discussion, he is willing to let Jory pick the location, even if he'd rather be nearly anywhere else in this weather. It is better for them to be on neutral ground, or for the boy to have the slight advantage; it will likely be an uncomfortable conversation if the way the last four meetings went can predict the way this one will go. Jory hates even the suggestion of leaving, but he is still not sure that he has done the right thing, allowing Jory to stay here in Wolfhold instead of packing him off to a temple, to the rest of the Sekhaim, for his training.
Reaching the top of the long stairs, he pushes open the creaky door to the tower guardroom, the wind howling around him like a chorus of restless spirits. He has to shove his way through, because the wind is actively trying to push the door closed as he holds it open. "Really, Jory?" he calls, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the wind. "You had to choose the most exposed spot in the entire estate for our meeting? I'm surprised you didn't decide on the battlements themselves."
The door thuds shut behind him, and he looks up and spots Jory standing by the window, his back to the room, gazing out at the turbulent sea. Simon's eyes narrow, because the boy isn't alone. Where Jory is gazing out at the waves, hands loosely shoved in his pockets, his other ward is leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking pensive.
Jory turns as he stalks over, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I like the view," he says, his voice calm and unruffled.
He shakes his head. "Not in this weather," he mutters, looking from one of the boys to the other. Neither has hit a final growth spurt, so he can still look slightly down at them as he gives them an unimpressed stare. Neither of them says anything else, as he stops, close enough that they won't have to raise their voices to be heard over the weather.
"Aren't you supposed to be meeting with your father, my Lord?" he asks, his tone a little sharper.
"I rescheduled," Roarke shrugs, and to most, he would look unconcerned. But he's practically raised these boys and he can see the tension in his young Lord's shoulders and the way his fingers tap just faintly on his arms, still crossed over his chest.
"I asked him to be here, Simon," Jory says, stepping forward.
"Jory, lad, we need to talk-"
"I know what you want to talk about," the brown-haired youth interrupts him, and there is enough uncharacteristic frustrated bite to his words that Simon both doesn't interrupt and bites down on the reprimand for rudeness that was on the tip of his tongue. "We do this every year. You want to try and convince me to leave, and go get trained at a Temple."
Roarke is scowling now, too, the pup can't help himself; which is, of course, why Simon arranges each year just before Jory's birthday to have this conversation with him in private. Roarke and Jory are joined at the hip for most of their waking moments and then some. It takes work to get his 'nalis on his own, but it's important. Important that Jory make this decision independent of whether it makes their young Lord happy.
"You, not a word, or I will make you go wait on the stairs." Simon glares at Roarke until the boy nods grudgingly, not even trying to pull rank. Not that it would work - Simon changed his diapers, cleaned his skinned knees, taught him to sit a horse - for all the twelve-year-old is heir to the Seawolf seat and the house's vast holdings, he recognizes his bodyguard's authority still in his life. Satisfied that there will be no interference on that front, he turns back to the slightly older boy. "You're right, Jory. I am going to try and convince you that your place, at least for the next five years, is at the Temple. There are things you would learn as a cadet that I cannot teach you, experiences I cannot give you."
"You're the best teacher there is," Jory counters, "For the things I need to know. You've been protecting Roarke since he was born - you know everything about him, his life, this family. What could someone at the Temple possibly offer that is more important than your experience?"
Simon sighed, running a hand across the stubble on his chin. He needs a shave, but this morning, he'd sat in the household Temple and begged Sekhay for a sign to tell him what the right thing was, instead. "Jory, pup, you're a natural. I'll give you that. You've got the reflexes, the strength, the foresight. But being a Cadet, it's a crucible. It's where the Sekhaim hone their skills, refine their instincts, learn to operate in a way that transcends mere physical prowess."
"All things I can do with you," Jory retorts, his eyes flashing. "I'm not afraid of a challenge. I'm capable of learning, of adapting. I've proven that to you time and time again."
"You've risen to every challenge I set you," Simon agrees, because one of the things he tries his darndest to do as a teacher is acknowledge when a student does well, stepping towards the boy. "But training with a cohort, it's a different beast altogether. I don't know how to explain this to you. It's about discipline, about finding your strengths, about pushing yourself beyond your perceived limits. It's about being honed, not just forged."
"You can do that for me," Jory insists, fists clenched at his sides. "You're a Guardianatus, aren't you? That means they've approved you to teach. I don't need to be honed for anything but protecting Roarke, and nobody can do that better than you."
Simon stares at the boy, his gaze unwavering. "Jory, you're young. You have a fire in you, a passion that burns bright. You need to learn to control that fire, to channel it, to use it wisely. Your place might not be-"
"No!" Jory interrupts him again, this time at the same time that lightnight strikes someplace very nearby, illuminating the momentary desperation on Jory's face. "Don't even say it." Roarke, who had obeyed him and kept quiet, even going a step further and stepping away from them, is there before the light is gone or the echo of the words fade away, close enough to Jory that their bodies brush.
They seem to confer for a moment, wordlessly, in a way that has long since stopped being eerie to watch, and then Jory takes a deep breath, and Roarke takes his hand, twining their hands together before the turn as one to face Simon.
"My place is here. At Roarke's side, now and until I draw my last breath. Not at the Temple. Nothing they could teach me would be worth being separated from him," Jory glances over at Roarke, who is already looking back at him, an intense look on his face that Simon can't quite decipher. "And I could never swear any oaths that would supersede my vows to him. We're partners, for life."
For the first time in a long time, he is shocked. Left speechless by not knowing what to say, and not simply choosing to stay quiet. He knew, of course, that they were close. They were always meant to be, from the moment Calder Seawolf plucked six-year-old Jory from his family and installed him in the castle as Roarke's companion. But that is the bond of brothers - this is something else. Something different.
Perhaps he has always seen it - or glimpses of it, at least, as they have grown. Their ability to communicate without words. The way they never went through a competitive stage the way boys of a certain age, even brothers, do - not with each other, at least; both boys had been plenty competitive with others. Jory's nearly uncanny ability to settle Roarke's wilder emotions when nobody else could. They way they often move as two parts of one boy in training, even when learning new maneuvers.
"If I had my way," Roarke breaks his silence, voice just barely loud enough to be heard over the wind and now the pounding rain that has finally reached them. "We'd be handsworn already, with a marriage planned for the moment I'm of age."
His voice, despite the soft volume, has the conviction of a man thrice his age, and Jory glances over at him with affection so deep Simon is unsure he's ever seen the like, except perhaps between a mother and her child. It's pure, and has a strength not be denied by anyone. "Roarke, your father…"
"I know." Roarke snaps, but takes a deep breath when Jory squeezes the hand he is still holding, and murmurs something in his ear that Simon can't hear. "Simon, I know that we cannot be married. Father would never permit it, even if he didn't have any prejudiced opinions about his firstborn and a commoner, much less his firstborn and another man. Someday I might have to marry, as Lord Seawolf, so I cannot marry for love, whether it is Jory or not."
He sounds so far beyond his twelve years, so resigned to these truths. Simon's heart aches for him, for being forced to acknowledge these things at so tender an age. To be denied even the games of young love and flirting and courting, because he has chosen to love someone with whom he will not be able to openly experience those joys. Chosen is not, exactly, the right word. He does not doubt the boys' devotion, despite their ages, and is unsurprised when Roarke goes on to add, "Simon, I love him. It does not matter to me if we cannot be married, I am his. For as long as he will have me."
"Which will be until I take my last breath," Jory lifts his chin, "or after." His protege stares across the room at him; both boys do. Jory is doing his best to look fierce, but there is apprehension in his dark eyes. Roarke, on the other hand, looks half a moment from drawing the sword that isn't at his hip - Simon has not yet approved his little Wolf to carry his weapon outside of training - and swinging.
Slowly, Simon nods. "You'll have to be careful, both of you. Our world is not always kind to those who love differently."
Jory looks at Roarke with a mixture of fear and determination in his eyes. "We will be careful," he promises. "I will protect him."
Roarke looks back with a mixture of love and defiance. "We will protect each other," he says firmly.
"Alright, pups," Simon wants nothing more in this moment than to sit, and have an hour or two to think about what this means for their future, knowing that there is little he can do to change their minds, and the best he will be able to do is protect them from the world as long as possible. So instead he crosses the distance between them in a few big steps, and yanks them both into a tight hug. "Alright. I hear you. Jory, I won't ask you again - but I want you to know the offer is always there."
The older of his two headaches pulls back just far enough from the embrace to give him a sweet, somewhat lopsided smile. "I know. I won't change my mind. But thank you."
He holds them until they start to squirm, and then lets go, telling them it's far past time for them to be inside the keep proper, getting prepared for bed, and that he won't defend them from the Lady of the house if they are late. When Roarke half-heartedly complains about having to walk down the stairs and all the way back to the keep in the pouring rain, he offers no sympathy, chasing them out of the guard tower.
As they make their way back down the stairs, he can't help but feel a sense of melancholy wash over him. These boys are special - more than just his ward and his Guardianalis, they are like sons to him. Their bond fills him with both joy and sorrow at once. He knows that they will face many challenges in the years to come - challenges that may test their love to its very limits - but he also knows that they will face those challenges together... no matter what fate has in store for them.

---

The Cast

Simon Padron
Jory Reza
Roarke Seawolf
Calder Seawolf (mentioned)

The Setting

Wolfhold
The Brilliant Empire

Other Relevant Links

Sekhay
The Senary
The Seawolf Family

Header photo from Arthur Brognoli on Pexels.