Swords of Isadren (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Love

Asman stood silently outside of Niallen's room. The guard who had brought him having left a short moment ago.

He was slightly fearful of actually talking to Niallen now that he knew the truth of their feelings for each other. Asman had never spoken to the man while there was a clear possibility for them to be together.

But regardless of any romantic feelings, Niallen had just lost his mother and it would be terrible of Asman to try and focus on love when the other man was hurting.

"Niallen?" Asman finally called out and knocked on the wooden door. "I thought we could talk some. If you wanted, that is."

He waited and listened for any sign that the man was actually in the room, jumping when the door opened without any sound.

Ignoring the lack of noise, Asman just took in the sight of Niallen, frowning when he saw the mans state.

Niallen's hair was down and mussed up as if he had been lying on it. His armor was off, leaving him in just the undershirt and the pair of trousers he normally wore to sleep. The shirt was open near the top and exposing his chest, but Asman ignored it for favor of his eyes.

His eyes were dull, normally having a fire or happiness or anger at least, in them. Now, the blue eyes were sad and tired.

"Are you alright?" Asman questioned softly, knowing the answer anyway.

Niallen shook his head slightly, shutting his eyes for a moment before inhaling deeply and leaning over to allow Asman in.

The room was somehow so very Niallen; a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, a couple chests, a table, and the many different items pinned to the walls that obviously were gifts. Little hand sewn textiles, or the Isadrenian banner across the mantle place.

Once Niallen had shut the door behind him, Asman watched while he walked over to sit on the bed. The blankets and pillows moved to show that Niallen had in fact been lying down.

"Everything went okay with Queen Kilnua." Asman stated carefully and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Niallen nodded and avoided eye contact, instead staring off to the wooden floor while deep in thought.

Asman went quiet for a moment, waiting for Niallen to start saying something, anything, about how he was feeling. When he got impatient though, he walked forward and sat next to the man on his bed.

"Niallen..."

"My mother is dead." He finally said, still staring at the floor. "She-She had the same illness father did and... and she's dead."

Niallen's voice was tight and thick, holding back too many emotions in favor of being strong.

"I know. Do you want to talk about what you are feeling at all?" Asman asked softly and watched Niallen face him with a desperate look; something that Asman had never seen on the man. "Do you... do you not know how to feel?"

Niallen shook his head again, his nose reddening along with his eyes. Asman frowned and reached out for Niallen's hand, the other automatically grasping for it.

"W-with my father and Rasina, we needed to stay strong for my mother. If we showed we were hurt by it then she would go too deep into her thoughts. So-So we did not cry and kept our backs straight... Asman, I do not know what to do." Niallen huffed out a glanced frantically from Asman's eyes to the floor.

Asman used his free hand to steady Niallen, holding his cheek in place and keeping blue eyes on brown.

"Niallen, do what you feel you need to do. Cry, scream, hit something, just let yourself react. You lost someone you were close to, and you do not need to be strong after that." Asman watched steadily as Niallen's composure cracked, a single tear sliding down his cheek.