Light and Shadow 3 -- the end of the lepic!
Title: Light and Shadow 3 (a continuation of Permanent happiness)
Author: ratherbrightred
Pairing: Baldwin/Balian
Rating: nc-17!
Warnings: Well…this is the last one. You can probably guess what that means. So give Baldwin a nice long goodbye hug.
Summary: An unabashedly plotless, sex-driven lepic. This exciting chapter: lots of sleeping and cuddling. (And death.)
A/N: the angst, people! I'm really sorry. I have never written something so angsty in my life. Also, if you've been reading and not commenting, I would love it if you'd comment here, just to let me know you're on the bus. I never know how many people are really out there.
and a disclaimer: Obviously Baldwin & Balian are not gay together, although Baldwin doesn't have much of a choice, given that the only woman in the film is his sister. None of these characters belong to me, and I mean no offense. Be sure to investigate the list of leprosy charities in the header for part one, as leprosy is very real, although my fic is not.
I knew when I woke that Baldwin would die that day. I can't explain how I knew, but something had changed. His breath was shallow and weak, and he slept through his breakfast. I didn't wake him, as I ordinarily would. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and inched closer to him until my chest was flush with his back. I could feel his spine poking into my ribcage.
"Baldwin," I whispered quietly, knowing from experience I wouldn't wake him unless I spoke just a bit louder. He shifted in my arms, then rolled over so he faced me, tucking his head under my chin. "If you go today, that's all right. I love you. I always will," I shut my eyes, feeling his breath tickle my collarbone.
"I love you too," he whispered.
"I didn't mean to wake you," I said, wrapping my arms more tightly around him.
"You talk to me a lot when you think I'm asleep," he said slowly, taking more breaths than he should have to complete his sentence. "You tell me…all kinds of things. I don't think you would tell me these things if I was awake. So I keep my eyes closed and listen."
"You are a sneaky little man," I told him, rocking him back and forth. "Sneaky sneaky sneaky. Remember how you moved your desk chair that first night so I would have to sit on your bed?"
He laughed, more of a wheeze, really, and nodded. "I had Abul do it."
"Had you ever done that before?"
"No." I imagined that he was blushing under his bandages.
I held him until his doctors came around-as always, I was impressed he could talk to Saladin's doctors in their own language. I had seriously considered enlisting his help to obtain my crabs medication, but pride won that battle in the end.
"What did you tell them?"
"I said I had no need for them today. That they should return to Saladin, and give him my thanks."
"Shouldn't they stay? I mean-I didn't mean to imply that today-"
"You're right, though, Balian." He shut his eyes and wriggled closer to me. "I have to talk to Sibylla, and Tiberias."
"I'll get them for you."
"And little Baldwin, I should say goodbye to him too."
"I wish he didn't hate me so much."
"He's just jealous. And I can't do the things we used to do. We used to reenact battles."
"I know, you told me."
"Of course I did." He sighed. "I'm losing my mind now, too." Abul appeared beside the bed and took my breakfast tray, looking at Baldwin's and deciding to leave it there. He said something to Abul-I made out Tiberias' name, and Sibylla's. Abul looked upset, but he nodded, putting my tray down and sitting on the edge of the bed. I'd never seen him do that before. He took one of Baldwin's little sock puppets in his hands and said just a few words to him. Baldwin nodded, and he left. Before I even opened my mouth, Baldwin translated. "He told me it has been an honor serving me."
"He was holding your hand." Baldwin nodded, closing his eyes. "Is there anything you want, Baldwin? Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?"
"I have everything I want," he whispered, smiling as I bent down and kissed his neck, letting my mouth linger on his skin and warm his bandages. "That was nice." I did it again, moving my lips down to the notch between his collarbones. "I'll miss this, I think," he murmured, trembling slightly as I kissed his shoulder, then the soft skin under his arm. In other circumstances, he surely would have been ticklish there. "I'll miss the warmth of your breath, and your touch. I think that might be all I miss."
"We'll see each other again," I told him, straightening the sheets and blankets and propping him up against his pile of pillows. "Someday, many years from now, I'll meet you where you're going, and I'll tickle your ticklish places and kiss your kissable places, and we'll spend eternity together, making love."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise," I said, kissing his forehead. "Let me dress now, so I can sit in the next room when your visitors come."
"What are you wearing?" he asked, listening to the fabric rustle as I pulled on the blue tunic he'd been pestering me about.
"The blue outfit you had made for me."
"Truly?"
"Yes."
He looked pleased, sort of smug. "Good. Help me with my mask, please."
"Of course." I sat beside him and wrapped his neck like his nurse had shown me before attaching the mask and arranging his veil around its edges. "Do you want breakfast?"
He shook his head, settling back in the pillows to catch his breath; he was exhausted from having to sit up while I fixed his bandages and his veil.
I sat beside him while he slept, my hand on his belly to make sure he was breathing. He didn't move at all; the only way I knew he was alive was a slight pressure against my palm as he inhaled.
Tiberias arrived first, taking my place beside him and fanning his fingers over his stomach like I had done. "Baldwin," he whispered, rubbing his hand back and forth. I sat just outside the door, not really planning to eavesdrop, but I couldn't stand the thought that he might die without me close by.
"Tiberias," Baldwin said softly, sounding happy. "Thank you for coming."
"Of course, my lord."
"I want to apologize. For last week, when I asked you to replace me, with Balian. That was not right, I should not have done-"
"If this is about Balian's unfortunate malady, I can assure you that your sister was the culprit-"
"What malady?"
"Oh. Nothing. Nothing at all. Go on. I'm sorry I interrupted."
"I should not have asked you for that. You mean more to me than that. I fear I must have insulted you."
"No, my lord."
"I'm sure I did, in fact. Please accept my apology."
"There is no need to apologize, dear Baldwin."
"You mean very much to me. You've been a father to me, and a brother, and a lover."
"And you mean very much to me."
"What will you do? Will you stay, after I'm gone?"
"I will stay as long as I can."
"And then?"
"I do not know. My loyalty is to you, not to Jerusalem. I've heard there's a…ah…circus, in Cyprus, quite a good one…"
"Guy will make a mess of things, Tiberias. You must promise me you'll stay, at least as long as he is in power, to try and counter him."
"I will stay."
"Good."
I drifted in and out of the conversation at that point-little Baldwin had arrived and was giving me a dirty look. Sibylla was nowhere in sight. I poured myself a cup of tea, nervously clinking my spoon around.
"Hi there," I said bravely, wincing preemptively in anticipation of his shrill screams.
He didn't respond, but sat at the chess table and started rearranging the pieces. I noticed they were dusty. It had been a long time since Baldwin had been able to play chess. "Do you want to play?" I asked. He shook his head.
"You're my uncle's husband," he announced, glowering at me.
I narrowly avoided spitting up my tea. "What?"
"Daddy says Uncle is bent and he likes to get buggered, which I figure is where you come in. And Uncle told me that bent means you would marry a man instead of a woman. So you're my uncle's husband."
"Impeccable logic," I admitted, sipping my tea thoughtfully.
"Well, are you or aren't you? His husband?"
"Not quite, Baldwin."
"I've decided not to hate you," he said generously.
"Why thank you."
"Even if you weren't buggering him, he still wouldn't play with me. My mother explained it to me."
"And where is your mother?"
"She's on her way."
"Are you quite sure?"
"Yes."
Tiberias emerged from the king's bedchamber, looking as close to forlorn as I had ever seen him. "It won't be long," he said, touching his fingertips to my shoulders. I leaned back against him, nodding. "Baldwin, do you want to go see your uncle now?" Baldwin looked at Tiberias with an expression of abject terror and darted into Baldwin's room. Tiberias sat next to me. "He's afraid of me since he saw me naked." Tiberias rolled his eyes.
"Well, I would be too," I mumbled, recalling how painful it had been to sit down after my encounter with his impossibly huge cock. We fell silent, listening to Baldwin talk with his nephew.
"You will be king someday, Baldwin. You will need to remember all those battles. Do you promise to remember?"
"Yes," he said quietly. He was usually quite loud and boisterous; his uncle's illness must be making an impression on him.
"And you must be kind to your mother."
"I will be. And to Daddy, too."
"That isn't strictly necessary. But be nice to Balian."
"I already told him I didn't hate him anymore."
"That's very noble of you."
Tiberias sighed, pouring himself a cup of tea and nodding to Sibylla, who had just swirled into the room. She was like a mobile fabric emporium. She nodded back and went in to sit beside her brother. They talked quietly for a long time; eventually little Baldwin emerged and sat opposite me, kicking his feet back and forth in his chair. I had sort of slumped over onto Tiberias' shoulder, my cheek smashed against his chain mail. When I pulled away, Tiberias ran his thumb over my skin and smiled.
"You've got wrinkles," Baldwin told me, and I felt my cheek to find that the chain mail had left me with a pattern of bumps on my skin. I blushed, embarrassed for some reason, and smiled at Sibylla as she left. Tiberias and Baldwin followed her, leaving me alone with two empty teacups and my thoughts. I stacked the teacups and went back to Baldwin.
He slept, his hands at his sides. I took his mask off and he started to roll onto his side, but he couldn't quite manage it. I helped him, tucking his legs up close to his body and arranging the pillows so he hugged one to his chest. That was how he liked to sleep, curled up around a pillow, preferably with my arms wrapped around the whole bundle.
He didn't wake up when I gathered him in my arms. I wondered when it would happen. Would he be awake? Probably not. Would I be awake? I hoped so, but I was afraid. Baldwin shifted in my arms, biting the corner of his pillow and mumbling something unintelligible. I ran my hand over his leg slowly, back and forth between his knee and his hip, pressing my mouth to the back of his neck and making a warm spot. He sighed and relaxed into my arms, shivering when I made another warm spot over his ear. I pulled him closer and pressed my lips to his jaw, his neck, and his shoulder, smiling when he tried to scoot closer to me. "Are you awake, love?" I whispered.
"Barely," he replied, tilting his head back so I could wrap my lips around his adam's apple. "Oh," he whispered, trembling under my touch. He pulled away from the pillow and I slipped my hand into the void it left behind, my fingers trailing over his stomach and cupping the inside of his thigh, my knuckles brushing against his soft balls and half-hard cock. Maybe he wasn't as close to death as I thought, if he could manage this.
I kept it up with the warm spots, paying careful attention to his collarbones and the skin around his armpits. He wasn't as ticklish as he usually was, but he did squirm around a bit, whispering "Oh please oh please oh please," until I moved away. I gave him a long, luxurious warm spot at the top of his spine below his neck, shutting my eyes and lingering there as he moaned.
"Balian," he whispered. I crawled over him so I could curl up in front of him, taking his arm and planting a series of warm spots from his elbow to his armpit. "You'll undo me yet," he said, his breath hitching as I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him close, tonguing his nipple through his silk nightclothes. "Tiberias told me that even dead men get hard."
"If Tiberias has a sexual history with dead people, I would prefer not to know the details."
Baldwin laughed-someone who didn't know him would have thought he was short of breath or gasping for air, but I recognized his old laugh in the sound. "No, he saw this during an execution, a hanging."
"Well, you're not dead," I whispered, smiling. I slid my hand under the bedclothes and undid his trousers. He whimpered, pushing his hips toward me as I wiggled my flat palm between his thighs, my thumb teasing his balls, occasionally venturing up to the base of his cock. I leaned in and kissed him, opening my mouth and warming his lips with my breath. I pulled away and fumbled around in the silverware drawer until I found the oil. We were running low on it, but I doubted we would need a refill.
"Balian, I can't bear it, my love for you hurts me, Balian. The pain of leaving you, of not feeling this again, I can't stand the thought-"
I cut him off with a kiss, running my thumb over the wet head of his cock and opening my mouth. "Don't think about that," I whispered, slipping my tongue inside his mouth and running it over his teeth. I felt his arm around my chest, pulling me close with all his strength. I shut my eyes and lost myself in his mouth, closing my fist around his cock and squeezing him between my slippery fingers. He moaned into my mouth, and I felt him arch against me, his tongue pushing past my teeth.
I wanted to keep this moment forever, this exact time and place, the light dancing on the white sheets and his white gown, his warm hollow stomach pushing against my arm, his blind blue eyes flickering between my face and whatever faraway sights he could see without seeing. I would even keep the soreness in my wrist, the tingling in my other hand as it fell asleep while trapped under his body, and the strange smell of sickness and decay on his breath. I wanted to trap this time like a butterfly, pinning down the quick seconds when he came, his seed warm on the palm of my hand, his breath wavering and ragged. I brought my hand out from under the bedclothes and licked his come from my skin, wrapping my leg around his waist as he started to fall away from me.
"Hold me," he whispered, tucking his head under my chin and sighing as he felt my arms around his back. I pulled a quilt over our jumbled limbs, my ostentatious blue robes intertwined with his plain white gown. I felt his breath slow and mine followed. I shut my eyes reluctantly, letting his absolute stillness spread into my body and lull me to sleep.
When I woke, I had kicked the quilt away, and with good reason. Baldwin was burning up, as if I held a lump of smoldering coal in my arms. His robes were soaked with sweat and clinging to him as if he had just walked in from a rainstorm. I poured a glass of water and propped him up so he could drink it; he shook his head after only a few sips, shutting his mouth and refusing more.
"Just hold me, Balian," he said, surfacing for a moment and opening his eyes. I tried to force more water on him, but he shook his head again. "Don't draw this out," he whispered, settling back into my embrace. "Don't prolong it."
I couldn't respond to that, so I just tightened my grip on him, holding him close as his teeth chattered. I covered him up, wondering if he felt cold. "Thank you," he said weakly, his breath hot against my shoulder.
His fever persisted for what felt like hours, but it may have been only a few minutes. Time had stopped. I felt like I was in an otherworldly vacuum, alone with Baldwin and the fire racing through his body. It seemed as if I could sense the smallest parts of him, the blood moving through his veins, the air in his lungs, the flesh of his beating heart, and I could not distinguish myself from him. I was sure that my heart beat only because his did, and I breathed only in response to his shallow, raspy cues. At some point I fell asleep, despite or perhaps because of the stifling heat pressed against my body and magnified by the quilt.
When I opened my eyes, Baldwin was staring at me, his hand cupping my cheek. I swear he saw me; his eyes were clear and quick, following my every blink and smallest movement. There was a slight smile playing across his lips, and his fever had vanished. The room was still and silent, the air crystal clear and cool. "Tell me again, Balian."
"Tell you what, my love?"
"Tell me how we will meet again."
I smiled, tracing his cheekbone with my fingertips. "We'll see each other again," I began, trying to remember what I had said before. "Someday I'll meet you where you're going, and I'll tickle you and kiss you, and we'll spend eternity together, making love. All day long, forever, we'll lie like this, and listen to each other breathe."
"What's it like there? Where I'm going?"
"A more beautiful kingdom than this," I whispered, kissing his forehead.
He pulled back from my kiss and looked into my eyes. I didn't dare ask if he could see me; I preferred to imagine that he did and remember it that way. "I will always love you," he said, drawing my head to his until our foreheads touched, his blue eyes all I could see. I felt his breath on my upper lip. "Wherever I go, I will never lose sight of you."
"We'll see each other again," I said a second time, feeling a hollow weightless tingle in the pit of my stomach as I fell into the deep blue depths of his eyes.
"Yes," he said, staring for a long time without blinking. I waited for his breath on my lip and felt nothing.
"Baldwin, please," I whispered, biting my lip and running my hands over his still warm face. "Not yet, please, just one more hour, one more minute…" He didn't respond, his glassy eyes staring at me, blind, unblinking, and, as much as it pained me to recognize it, lifeless. I reached out and pulled his eyelids closed, his eyelashes tickling my fingertips.
I held him until he was stiff and cold, not wanting to relinquish him or tell anyone he had died. Eventually Tiberias found us and pulled me away gently, covering Baldwin with a thin white sheet.
Tiberias asked me questions. I don't remember what they were or if I answered. After stumbling out of Baldwin's room, I walked through the streets, pushing against crowds of people bearing candles and sad faces. The church bells pounded in my head like hammers; I rode fast as I left Jerusalem, wanting to be home, my real home, with the foxes and the snow. I would content myself with Ibelin, its deep well, the tree beside it, and the ghosts of my father, wife, child, and lover.
don't forget to comment!
and thanks for reading!!
Author: ratherbrightred
Pairing: Baldwin/Balian
Rating: nc-17!
Warnings: Well…this is the last one. You can probably guess what that means. So give Baldwin a nice long goodbye hug.
Summary: An unabashedly plotless, sex-driven lepic. This exciting chapter: lots of sleeping and cuddling. (And death.)
A/N: the angst, people! I'm really sorry. I have never written something so angsty in my life. Also, if you've been reading and not commenting, I would love it if you'd comment here, just to let me know you're on the bus. I never know how many people are really out there.
and a disclaimer: Obviously Baldwin & Balian are not gay together, although Baldwin doesn't have much of a choice, given that the only woman in the film is his sister. None of these characters belong to me, and I mean no offense. Be sure to investigate the list of leprosy charities in the header for part one, as leprosy is very real, although my fic is not.
I knew when I woke that Baldwin would die that day. I can't explain how I knew, but something had changed. His breath was shallow and weak, and he slept through his breakfast. I didn't wake him, as I ordinarily would. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and inched closer to him until my chest was flush with his back. I could feel his spine poking into my ribcage.
"Baldwin," I whispered quietly, knowing from experience I wouldn't wake him unless I spoke just a bit louder. He shifted in my arms, then rolled over so he faced me, tucking his head under my chin. "If you go today, that's all right. I love you. I always will," I shut my eyes, feeling his breath tickle my collarbone.
"I love you too," he whispered.
"I didn't mean to wake you," I said, wrapping my arms more tightly around him.
"You talk to me a lot when you think I'm asleep," he said slowly, taking more breaths than he should have to complete his sentence. "You tell me…all kinds of things. I don't think you would tell me these things if I was awake. So I keep my eyes closed and listen."
"You are a sneaky little man," I told him, rocking him back and forth. "Sneaky sneaky sneaky. Remember how you moved your desk chair that first night so I would have to sit on your bed?"
He laughed, more of a wheeze, really, and nodded. "I had Abul do it."
"Had you ever done that before?"
"No." I imagined that he was blushing under his bandages.
I held him until his doctors came around-as always, I was impressed he could talk to Saladin's doctors in their own language. I had seriously considered enlisting his help to obtain my crabs medication, but pride won that battle in the end.
"What did you tell them?"
"I said I had no need for them today. That they should return to Saladin, and give him my thanks."
"Shouldn't they stay? I mean-I didn't mean to imply that today-"
"You're right, though, Balian." He shut his eyes and wriggled closer to me. "I have to talk to Sibylla, and Tiberias."
"I'll get them for you."
"And little Baldwin, I should say goodbye to him too."
"I wish he didn't hate me so much."
"He's just jealous. And I can't do the things we used to do. We used to reenact battles."
"I know, you told me."
"Of course I did." He sighed. "I'm losing my mind now, too." Abul appeared beside the bed and took my breakfast tray, looking at Baldwin's and deciding to leave it there. He said something to Abul-I made out Tiberias' name, and Sibylla's. Abul looked upset, but he nodded, putting my tray down and sitting on the edge of the bed. I'd never seen him do that before. He took one of Baldwin's little sock puppets in his hands and said just a few words to him. Baldwin nodded, and he left. Before I even opened my mouth, Baldwin translated. "He told me it has been an honor serving me."
"He was holding your hand." Baldwin nodded, closing his eyes. "Is there anything you want, Baldwin? Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?"
"I have everything I want," he whispered, smiling as I bent down and kissed his neck, letting my mouth linger on his skin and warm his bandages. "That was nice." I did it again, moving my lips down to the notch between his collarbones. "I'll miss this, I think," he murmured, trembling slightly as I kissed his shoulder, then the soft skin under his arm. In other circumstances, he surely would have been ticklish there. "I'll miss the warmth of your breath, and your touch. I think that might be all I miss."
"We'll see each other again," I told him, straightening the sheets and blankets and propping him up against his pile of pillows. "Someday, many years from now, I'll meet you where you're going, and I'll tickle your ticklish places and kiss your kissable places, and we'll spend eternity together, making love."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise," I said, kissing his forehead. "Let me dress now, so I can sit in the next room when your visitors come."
"What are you wearing?" he asked, listening to the fabric rustle as I pulled on the blue tunic he'd been pestering me about.
"The blue outfit you had made for me."
"Truly?"
"Yes."
He looked pleased, sort of smug. "Good. Help me with my mask, please."
"Of course." I sat beside him and wrapped his neck like his nurse had shown me before attaching the mask and arranging his veil around its edges. "Do you want breakfast?"
He shook his head, settling back in the pillows to catch his breath; he was exhausted from having to sit up while I fixed his bandages and his veil.
I sat beside him while he slept, my hand on his belly to make sure he was breathing. He didn't move at all; the only way I knew he was alive was a slight pressure against my palm as he inhaled.
Tiberias arrived first, taking my place beside him and fanning his fingers over his stomach like I had done. "Baldwin," he whispered, rubbing his hand back and forth. I sat just outside the door, not really planning to eavesdrop, but I couldn't stand the thought that he might die without me close by.
"Tiberias," Baldwin said softly, sounding happy. "Thank you for coming."
"Of course, my lord."
"I want to apologize. For last week, when I asked you to replace me, with Balian. That was not right, I should not have done-"
"If this is about Balian's unfortunate malady, I can assure you that your sister was the culprit-"
"What malady?"
"Oh. Nothing. Nothing at all. Go on. I'm sorry I interrupted."
"I should not have asked you for that. You mean more to me than that. I fear I must have insulted you."
"No, my lord."
"I'm sure I did, in fact. Please accept my apology."
"There is no need to apologize, dear Baldwin."
"You mean very much to me. You've been a father to me, and a brother, and a lover."
"And you mean very much to me."
"What will you do? Will you stay, after I'm gone?"
"I will stay as long as I can."
"And then?"
"I do not know. My loyalty is to you, not to Jerusalem. I've heard there's a…ah…circus, in Cyprus, quite a good one…"
"Guy will make a mess of things, Tiberias. You must promise me you'll stay, at least as long as he is in power, to try and counter him."
"I will stay."
"Good."
I drifted in and out of the conversation at that point-little Baldwin had arrived and was giving me a dirty look. Sibylla was nowhere in sight. I poured myself a cup of tea, nervously clinking my spoon around.
"Hi there," I said bravely, wincing preemptively in anticipation of his shrill screams.
He didn't respond, but sat at the chess table and started rearranging the pieces. I noticed they were dusty. It had been a long time since Baldwin had been able to play chess. "Do you want to play?" I asked. He shook his head.
"You're my uncle's husband," he announced, glowering at me.
I narrowly avoided spitting up my tea. "What?"
"Daddy says Uncle is bent and he likes to get buggered, which I figure is where you come in. And Uncle told me that bent means you would marry a man instead of a woman. So you're my uncle's husband."
"Impeccable logic," I admitted, sipping my tea thoughtfully.
"Well, are you or aren't you? His husband?"
"Not quite, Baldwin."
"I've decided not to hate you," he said generously.
"Why thank you."
"Even if you weren't buggering him, he still wouldn't play with me. My mother explained it to me."
"And where is your mother?"
"She's on her way."
"Are you quite sure?"
"Yes."
Tiberias emerged from the king's bedchamber, looking as close to forlorn as I had ever seen him. "It won't be long," he said, touching his fingertips to my shoulders. I leaned back against him, nodding. "Baldwin, do you want to go see your uncle now?" Baldwin looked at Tiberias with an expression of abject terror and darted into Baldwin's room. Tiberias sat next to me. "He's afraid of me since he saw me naked." Tiberias rolled his eyes.
"Well, I would be too," I mumbled, recalling how painful it had been to sit down after my encounter with his impossibly huge cock. We fell silent, listening to Baldwin talk with his nephew.
"You will be king someday, Baldwin. You will need to remember all those battles. Do you promise to remember?"
"Yes," he said quietly. He was usually quite loud and boisterous; his uncle's illness must be making an impression on him.
"And you must be kind to your mother."
"I will be. And to Daddy, too."
"That isn't strictly necessary. But be nice to Balian."
"I already told him I didn't hate him anymore."
"That's very noble of you."
Tiberias sighed, pouring himself a cup of tea and nodding to Sibylla, who had just swirled into the room. She was like a mobile fabric emporium. She nodded back and went in to sit beside her brother. They talked quietly for a long time; eventually little Baldwin emerged and sat opposite me, kicking his feet back and forth in his chair. I had sort of slumped over onto Tiberias' shoulder, my cheek smashed against his chain mail. When I pulled away, Tiberias ran his thumb over my skin and smiled.
"You've got wrinkles," Baldwin told me, and I felt my cheek to find that the chain mail had left me with a pattern of bumps on my skin. I blushed, embarrassed for some reason, and smiled at Sibylla as she left. Tiberias and Baldwin followed her, leaving me alone with two empty teacups and my thoughts. I stacked the teacups and went back to Baldwin.
He slept, his hands at his sides. I took his mask off and he started to roll onto his side, but he couldn't quite manage it. I helped him, tucking his legs up close to his body and arranging the pillows so he hugged one to his chest. That was how he liked to sleep, curled up around a pillow, preferably with my arms wrapped around the whole bundle.
He didn't wake up when I gathered him in my arms. I wondered when it would happen. Would he be awake? Probably not. Would I be awake? I hoped so, but I was afraid. Baldwin shifted in my arms, biting the corner of his pillow and mumbling something unintelligible. I ran my hand over his leg slowly, back and forth between his knee and his hip, pressing my mouth to the back of his neck and making a warm spot. He sighed and relaxed into my arms, shivering when I made another warm spot over his ear. I pulled him closer and pressed my lips to his jaw, his neck, and his shoulder, smiling when he tried to scoot closer to me. "Are you awake, love?" I whispered.
"Barely," he replied, tilting his head back so I could wrap my lips around his adam's apple. "Oh," he whispered, trembling under my touch. He pulled away from the pillow and I slipped my hand into the void it left behind, my fingers trailing over his stomach and cupping the inside of his thigh, my knuckles brushing against his soft balls and half-hard cock. Maybe he wasn't as close to death as I thought, if he could manage this.
I kept it up with the warm spots, paying careful attention to his collarbones and the skin around his armpits. He wasn't as ticklish as he usually was, but he did squirm around a bit, whispering "Oh please oh please oh please," until I moved away. I gave him a long, luxurious warm spot at the top of his spine below his neck, shutting my eyes and lingering there as he moaned.
"Balian," he whispered. I crawled over him so I could curl up in front of him, taking his arm and planting a series of warm spots from his elbow to his armpit. "You'll undo me yet," he said, his breath hitching as I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him close, tonguing his nipple through his silk nightclothes. "Tiberias told me that even dead men get hard."
"If Tiberias has a sexual history with dead people, I would prefer not to know the details."
Baldwin laughed-someone who didn't know him would have thought he was short of breath or gasping for air, but I recognized his old laugh in the sound. "No, he saw this during an execution, a hanging."
"Well, you're not dead," I whispered, smiling. I slid my hand under the bedclothes and undid his trousers. He whimpered, pushing his hips toward me as I wiggled my flat palm between his thighs, my thumb teasing his balls, occasionally venturing up to the base of his cock. I leaned in and kissed him, opening my mouth and warming his lips with my breath. I pulled away and fumbled around in the silverware drawer until I found the oil. We were running low on it, but I doubted we would need a refill.
"Balian, I can't bear it, my love for you hurts me, Balian. The pain of leaving you, of not feeling this again, I can't stand the thought-"
I cut him off with a kiss, running my thumb over the wet head of his cock and opening my mouth. "Don't think about that," I whispered, slipping my tongue inside his mouth and running it over his teeth. I felt his arm around my chest, pulling me close with all his strength. I shut my eyes and lost myself in his mouth, closing my fist around his cock and squeezing him between my slippery fingers. He moaned into my mouth, and I felt him arch against me, his tongue pushing past my teeth.
I wanted to keep this moment forever, this exact time and place, the light dancing on the white sheets and his white gown, his warm hollow stomach pushing against my arm, his blind blue eyes flickering between my face and whatever faraway sights he could see without seeing. I would even keep the soreness in my wrist, the tingling in my other hand as it fell asleep while trapped under his body, and the strange smell of sickness and decay on his breath. I wanted to trap this time like a butterfly, pinning down the quick seconds when he came, his seed warm on the palm of my hand, his breath wavering and ragged. I brought my hand out from under the bedclothes and licked his come from my skin, wrapping my leg around his waist as he started to fall away from me.
"Hold me," he whispered, tucking his head under my chin and sighing as he felt my arms around his back. I pulled a quilt over our jumbled limbs, my ostentatious blue robes intertwined with his plain white gown. I felt his breath slow and mine followed. I shut my eyes reluctantly, letting his absolute stillness spread into my body and lull me to sleep.
When I woke, I had kicked the quilt away, and with good reason. Baldwin was burning up, as if I held a lump of smoldering coal in my arms. His robes were soaked with sweat and clinging to him as if he had just walked in from a rainstorm. I poured a glass of water and propped him up so he could drink it; he shook his head after only a few sips, shutting his mouth and refusing more.
"Just hold me, Balian," he said, surfacing for a moment and opening his eyes. I tried to force more water on him, but he shook his head again. "Don't draw this out," he whispered, settling back into my embrace. "Don't prolong it."
I couldn't respond to that, so I just tightened my grip on him, holding him close as his teeth chattered. I covered him up, wondering if he felt cold. "Thank you," he said weakly, his breath hot against my shoulder.
His fever persisted for what felt like hours, but it may have been only a few minutes. Time had stopped. I felt like I was in an otherworldly vacuum, alone with Baldwin and the fire racing through his body. It seemed as if I could sense the smallest parts of him, the blood moving through his veins, the air in his lungs, the flesh of his beating heart, and I could not distinguish myself from him. I was sure that my heart beat only because his did, and I breathed only in response to his shallow, raspy cues. At some point I fell asleep, despite or perhaps because of the stifling heat pressed against my body and magnified by the quilt.
When I opened my eyes, Baldwin was staring at me, his hand cupping my cheek. I swear he saw me; his eyes were clear and quick, following my every blink and smallest movement. There was a slight smile playing across his lips, and his fever had vanished. The room was still and silent, the air crystal clear and cool. "Tell me again, Balian."
"Tell you what, my love?"
"Tell me how we will meet again."
I smiled, tracing his cheekbone with my fingertips. "We'll see each other again," I began, trying to remember what I had said before. "Someday I'll meet you where you're going, and I'll tickle you and kiss you, and we'll spend eternity together, making love. All day long, forever, we'll lie like this, and listen to each other breathe."
"What's it like there? Where I'm going?"
"A more beautiful kingdom than this," I whispered, kissing his forehead.
He pulled back from my kiss and looked into my eyes. I didn't dare ask if he could see me; I preferred to imagine that he did and remember it that way. "I will always love you," he said, drawing my head to his until our foreheads touched, his blue eyes all I could see. I felt his breath on my upper lip. "Wherever I go, I will never lose sight of you."
"We'll see each other again," I said a second time, feeling a hollow weightless tingle in the pit of my stomach as I fell into the deep blue depths of his eyes.
"Yes," he said, staring for a long time without blinking. I waited for his breath on my lip and felt nothing.
"Baldwin, please," I whispered, biting my lip and running my hands over his still warm face. "Not yet, please, just one more hour, one more minute…" He didn't respond, his glassy eyes staring at me, blind, unblinking, and, as much as it pained me to recognize it, lifeless. I reached out and pulled his eyelids closed, his eyelashes tickling my fingertips.
I held him until he was stiff and cold, not wanting to relinquish him or tell anyone he had died. Eventually Tiberias found us and pulled me away gently, covering Baldwin with a thin white sheet.
Tiberias asked me questions. I don't remember what they were or if I answered. After stumbling out of Baldwin's room, I walked through the streets, pushing against crowds of people bearing candles and sad faces. The church bells pounded in my head like hammers; I rode fast as I left Jerusalem, wanting to be home, my real home, with the foxes and the snow. I would content myself with Ibelin, its deep well, the tree beside it, and the ghosts of my father, wife, child, and lover.
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