...

Roman bounded down the bustling street, waving to familiar passerby as he went. He knew he was easy to pick out and very recognizable, in his white knight’s uniform. Despite the early morning, many people were already up and about, setting up for the day, but the street lamps still glowed—a recent installation, they actually ran on electricity! Roman still didn’t quite understand how that worked, but he was proud to see his settlement prospering, and it was fascinating, how much light came from them, just from a few little wires and some glass. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment involved.

“Good morning, Sir Roman,” a shopkeeper called.

Roman tabled his nerdy thoughts for the time being. He put on a bright smile and approached the shop, where a woman stood sweeping clear the welcome mat. “Good morning to you, Maryanne!”

The woman put aside the broom and dusted her hands off on her apron. “Would you like a pastry? The peaches just arrived from Mellow Valley, and they are simply delightful in a fruit tart.”

Roman hummed consideringly. “Oh, that’s very tempting, but I’m afraid I’m in a rush this morning!”

“Some other time, then. Perhaps you could even bring that handsome young man you’re always with.” She winked.

Roman really hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Of course—you know I love your treats.”

Roman was on his way to his shift guarding the outer wall, an imposing structure built of shining gray stone that protected the citizens of his home from the monsters that roamed the forest beyond. It was an important job, entrusted to the expertise of the knights, and one that Roman loved doing; but it wasn’t always the most exciting prospect. Their settlement, Old Haven, was one of the longest standing, enough so that most of the monsters had known since generations past to stay well away; and between the few times that things truly got exciting... they could be terribly dull.

But, before Roman went to his shift that morning, he had a stop to make, and this he was definitely looking forward to.

The apothecary was located just a couple of blocks from the main square, in a small, warmly colored cedar and stone building with windows filled with neatly arranged bundles of colorful herbs and evenly spaced rows of bottles of medicinal powders and potions. A hand-painted sign read, Please come in, in neat, white letters, in an only slightly decorative script.

Roman reached the shop just as the door opened, the bell overhead chiming. A customer stepped out, dressed in a dark robe with the hood up. At first glance, he seemed to be clothed entirely in black, but on closer inspection, his robe was actually a deep plum color. He clutched a bottle of pomegranate juice in one pale hand and a neatly sealed packet of herbs in the other. Dark bangs poked out from under the hood, but his face was cast in shadow. Roman frowned slightly noticing the dark, grayish veins in his hands as he stepped back to give the man room. He hurried past Roman and disappeared down the street. Roman stepped inside the apothecary once he was gone.

The apothecarist, Logan, stood behind a counter within the shop, wearing an elegant, navy colored coat and his usual pair of spectacles. He was pushing together a pile of coins on the counter. Copper and bronze coins only, Roman noticed. No silver.

“Got a lot of vampire clientele?” Roman asked, leaning (or perhaps posing) against one of the display cabinets.

Logan looked up, the warm lamplight making his deep blue irises glitter in a way that never failed to make Roman’s heart skip a beat. He glanced back down and finished tucking away the money. “Six,” he said honestly. “Seven, most likely, although she has not personally shared that information with me, and if she is, hers appears to be a mild case.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Ah… they’re a little too similar to monsters, for my taste.”

“It is a monster-derived affliction, that is true, but with modern treatments, most of those afflicted with vampirism can lead nearly normal lives.”

Roman shrugged dismissingly, waving him off. He hadn’t come here to talk about vampires. “I know, I know. Anyway. How’s my favorite nerd this morning?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Logan sighed.

“You know you love it.”

Logan did not deny it, Roman noticed with a small smile. Instead, he adjusted a few already perfectly positioned potion bottles on the counter, before saying, “I am well, although rather busy.”

Roman glanced around the room, noticeably empty of customers. “Ah yes, this is a very busy time for your shop, I see.”

“A customer did depart only moments ago,” Logan pointed out. “Although, no, I was not referring to customers. I’m preparing for an outing.”

“An outing?” Roman was interested, now. “Finally taking a little vacation, are you? Good on you. Where are you going? And more importantly—can I come?”

Logan wanted to smile, Roman could tell. But he didn’t. The guy took himself too seriously. “Not that type of outing. I require materials to restock my shop.”

Roman sighed dramatically, making it a full body motion. So much for a vacation. And the hot springs in the hills of northern Old Haven were so nice this time of year. “So? Just put it on the list for the traders. Mellow Valley should have most of your things in season by now. Did you hear the peaches arrived? Maryanne, that baker on Lilac, promised me some of her delightful pastries. We could go get some, when I’m finished with my shift on the South Wall this morning.”

Logan shook his head “Mellow Valley won’t have everything I need; and besides, the costs are considerably lessened when the materials are personally collected.”

Roman furrowed his brow. “Collected where?”

“Outside.”

“You mean outside, like, as in the park, right?”

“In the woods,” Logan sighed, beginning to sound exasperated.

Roman opened his mouth, then closed it again. The woods. The veritable ocean of dense trees beyond the settlement’s walls, filled to the brim with monsters, held back from advancing only by the strength of the guard and broken only by the occasional human stronghold and the heavily protected trails that linked them. Generally, only knights and the traders they accompanied ever ventured beyond the walls—this was, in fact, why Roman had become a knight in the first place, to get to see some of the world that most only saw through pictures and stories. Citizens were allowed to leave—they weren’t prisoners—but it was very rare, and highly discouraged. Many who went unprepared—or even those who did—never returned; and sometimes even those who did return were not the same as when they left—like the vampires who apparently frequented this shop, or at least one or more of their ancestors. Vampirism could be tricky like that. Sometimes it cropped up randomly, somewhere down the line.

Logan had begun sorting through some of his supplies, acting for all the world as if he hadn’t just announced he had a death wish.

Roman shook off his distracted thoughts of vampirism and knightly missions, and focused on the most important thing: “Please tell me you aren’t planning to go out there alone.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Logan sighed. “I will have my dagger, and I will go no further into the woods than required.”

“Oookay, first of all, why am I just now hearing that you’ve been hanging out in the monster-filled woods by yourself?”

“I would hardly call it ‘hanging out’.”

“And second of all, you are absolutely not doing that.”

Logan gave him a dry look. “Yes, I am. My herbs will not pick themselves.”

“Get a garden like a normal person.”

“You know I have a quite extensive garden.” Logan paused, looked confused. He shook his head, going back to counting bundles of tiny black seeds. “Some of these herbs do not naturally grow within human settlements, let alone ours, and my attempts to recreate their preferred environment have in many cases proven thus far unsuccessful. Besides, I cannot ‘get a garden’ to form mineral deposits, several of which are required in even non-specialty potions.”

Roman still didn’t quite see why Logan wouldn’t be able to get all of this stuff using a trader. Knowing Logan, it was less about the money and more about needing to personally ensure that he received the correct materials. Surely, though, even the least-versed in medicinal resources could get him what he needed, if he described them well enough.

Also knowing Logan, though, he would not be dissuaded from going.

Roman pulled himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest and putting one hand on the protective-charm engraved hilt of his sword. “Alright, then, I am coming with you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming to collect herbs? Can you even tell wormwood from hemlock?”

“I’m not going to find your nerd plants, I’m going to protect you.”

Logan scoffed quietly, clearly believing Roman’s very generous and heroic offer was unnecessary. But he sat down on his stool, finally, and looked at Roman without busying himself with his apothecarist duties. He glanced Roman up and down, apparently trying to decide how serious Roman was. “Alright, then, if you insist.”

“I do!” Roman nodded firmly. He relaxed his posture. “So, when are we going?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes?”

“I—” Roman groaned, looking up towards the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Fine. It’s a little short notice, but fine.” He worked his jaw, then mumbled, “I’ll need to cancel a couple days… maybe Sir Leo can cover? Hm.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, adjusting his spectacles and watching Roman’s dramatics. “I am not forcing you to come.”

You are, though. “Well, I am.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

A beat passed in silence, Roman feeling triumphant, before Logan gave the knight a slightly amused look. “I thought you had a shift on the wall?”

“I—right. Yes.” Roman had gotten a little distracted. He took a couple of steps back. “So, you, me, tomorrow, woods. Great.” He turned towards the door, stopped, and turned around. “About those pastries?”

Logan hummed. “I can take a break two hours after noon, which is when your shift ends, if I remember correctly. I suppose I would accept one then.”

“They have fruit in them,” Roman encouraged. “That makes them healthy!”

“I do not believe that is entirely correct.”

...

Early morning daylight filled the room, and Valerie was back, setting up her supplies on the side table. She glanced over as Roman yawned, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“I did ask you to fetch someone if he woke up,” she scolded gently.

Roman realized he was still sitting on Logan’s bed, leaning against the headboard, Logan’s hand held in both of his.

Logan was asleep, his face turned slightly towards Roman.

Roman felt his face heat up. “...it was late,” he justified, watching as Valerie started to check Logan over. “He seemed a little scared, so I just....”

“It’s okay. I did ask you to keep him calm,” Valerie said. She put the back of her hand on Logan’s cheek, then felt his pulse, giving a little nod to herself. She then moved on to check the bandages on Logan’s head. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked as she worked.

Roman smiled. “Much improved, thanks to you.”

“That’s good to hear. You didn’t hurt your ankle too much when you decided to migrate over here, did you?”

Roman huffed indignantly, pouting. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t left his bed at all since he’d been here. And he was keeping his worse-off foot elevated, like she’d told him to. He’d put it up on the bed and everything. “I did not.”

Valerie looked amused. “Okay, I believe you. Would you mind moving back over to your own bed? I need to check on those ribs of yours, and there’s not quite enough space here.”

Roman looked reluctantly at Logan, then sighed, and nodded. He very gently placed Logan’s hand on the blanket and allowed Valerie to help him back to his own bed.

She was about halfway through reapplying the salve on his torso when there was a groan from the neighboring bed. Roman’s head snapped up immediately. Valerie also paused, glancing over.

Logan’s eyes were open. He looked drowsy, still, but rather than the bleary, nervous disorientation of the night before, now his eyes were sharp and focused—if still understandably confused. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then turned his head, looking around.

Roman gasped, then grinned, trying to hide how worried he’d been. “Does my favorite nerd stir? You’re finally back in the land of the living!”

Logan’s eyes found Roman. He frowned and opened his mouth to speak, only to break off into a coughing fit. Valerie quickly set down the salve she’d been applying and fetched a glass of water. Roman watched as she brought it over to him, trying to ignore the acrobatics his heart was performing.

“Careful now,” she said. “Have some water.”

She helped Logan to drink. Logan seemed to be trying to help hold the glass, but it was obvious that he was still feeling weak and exhausted.

“Better?” Valerie asked once he had drunk a fair amount.

Logan nodded slightly, closing his eyes as he did so. “Thank you,” he said, his voice still rough.

“No problem at all,” the doctor assured him. She glanced him up and down, assessing. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Logan.”

“And where are we, Logan?”

He opened his eyes again and glanced around. “It appears to be a hospital, although… I’m afraid I can’t be more specific.”

“Yes, you are in the hospital,” Valerie confirmed. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Logan swallowed, his gaze growing a bit glassy. “The… the giant,” he whispered.

“Yes, Sir Roman here has told me about that. I’m sorry about what happened, but you’re safe now.” She glanced towards Roman, who looked at her meaningfully. Logan seemed pretty lucid—surely he was well enough to talk?

Valerie seemed to debate for a fraction of a second, but thankfully, she kept her promise. “Alright, everything looks good. I’ll… leave you two alone for a moment, then, unless you need something?”

“No, thank you, doctor,” Logan said. “I will be fine for a moment.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

“Wait,” Logan said suddenly, reaching out as if to stop her. “My apothecary, my clients….”

“There are other apothecaries,” Roman said soothingly. “They’ll be fine until you’re better.”

“Yes, yes, but… some of my clients, they have told me they have difficulty being served elsewhere.”

Valerie hesitated. “Which clients?”

“Vampires,” Logan said.

Oh, Roman thought. He suddenly felt a bit guilty, thinking about his and Logan’s exchange only a few days before. He should have guessed that vampires might have difficulty finding what they needed. And of course Logan would care about that, even while lying in a hospital bed himself.

“Valerie, if you would not mind… I know it is a lot to ask… but there are only seven of them.”

Valerie tapped her fingernails on her clipboard. “I can put a sign on the door,” she said. “I can tell them to come to me. I’ll take care of it.”

Logan relaxed. “Thank you.”

Valerie nodded, gathered up her things, then left the room. Roman waited until she was sure he’d heard her footsteps leave the neighboring room, then carefully got up from his own bed and limped back over to Logan’s. Logan reached towards him, and Roman helped him to sit up, pushing pillows behind him and then letting him lean back against them. Roman sat down on the edge of the bed again, which Logan didn’t seem to mind, if he even noticed.

Logan’s eyes had locked onto his injured leg, splinted and heavily bandaged. A part of Roman wished he had adjusted the covers to hide it, but he supposed it wasn’t as if Logan didn’t know what had happened.

“They say you’ll probably need a cane,” Roman admitted. As if it would somehow make it better, he added, “We’ll get you a nice, stylish one. People will think it’s just part of your whole apothecary vibe.” Logan liked to look professional—surely that would be a plus. Right?

Mercifully, Logan changed the subject. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A couple of days. Ever since the giant….” Roman shuddered at the memory. “Anyway. You’ve got a concussion—twinsies—and you lost a lot of blood. But Valerie says that you shouldn’t have any kind of permanent damage, other than the limp. And for now, you get to take some killer pain meds. I’m almost jealous.”

Logan took a moment to mull that over. He looked Roman over, his gaze lingering on his bruised face, his cracked ribs, and his sprained ankle. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What? Why are you sorry?”

“You’re hurt because of me,” Logan pointed out. “It was my plan to go into the woods. My plan to fetch those supplies, even knowing the risks—”

“You didn’t know about that giant.”

Logan did not seem reassured. “I knew about the monsters in the woods. I knew that the sentries and the walls and the enchantments were there for a reason. I knew that it was dangerous.”

“Logan.”

“You could have died, because of me—”

Roman held up a hand to stop him. “But I didn’t. I am very much still alive.”

Logan sighed. He picked at the blanket lying across his lap. “And the giant, then, it’s…?”

“Dead,” Roman assured. “As dead as we would have been if you didn’t distract him so we could get out of there. As dead as you would have been if I hadn’t—gods, Logan, why did you want me to leave you behind? Did you really think I’d ever do something like that to you? You’re my—” he cut himself off, the tips of his ears reddening. He wasn’t even sure what he’d been about to say, but… he knew it wasn’t something he could just… say.

Logan watched him for a moment. Then, cautiously, he spoke. “Roman, you asked the doctor for a moment alone with me. May I ask why?”

Roman fell silent, before looking back up at Logan; and he met those wide, earnest, deep blue eyes. His heart was beating very fast. He swallowed.

No more wasted time.

“Because… we need to talk.”

For a long moment, Logan simply stared at him. Roman couldn’t feel his fingers.

Then, the apothecarist looked down, and considered. “Perhaps…” Logan said slowly, “Perhaps we do.”

Okay, maybe Roman was reading into this too much, but that… that sounded like Logan might feel the same way. Was he reading into this too much?

…Roman might faint.

Logan looked a little concerned, now. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” Roman quickly assured him, his voice possibly a little higher than normal. He wished there was an inconspicuous way he could fan himself, but there was not.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep! Mm-hm!”

“Okay.” Logan waited. Roman might have imagined it, but he may have also looked a bit nervous.

Finally, Roman determined that he was in fact not going to faint like some kind of romantic disaster—at least, not yet. He took a few deep breaths, to steady himself. He cleared his throat. Still, his voice shook when he began to speak—although it grew firmer as he continued. “So… so, Logan, there’s something that I’ve really wanted to tell you for a… a very long time. And… to be honest, I never really intended to. I suppose I was afraid. But after everything that’s happened, everything we went through, thinking that you had… that I might have lost you… I just need you to know. I hope that’s okay.”

Logan blinked.

He knew that the words were not coming across as coherently or poetically as he had imagined, over and over through the years, but the words were coming. And now he just had to say it. Roman took a shaky breath, and then let out a little helpless laugh. “Logan, I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“Oh,” Logan said softly.

Roman swallowed. “Yeah.”

“If I might ask… how long have you felt this way?”

“…Since I was still in training. To be a knight.”

He could feel Logan doing the math on that. Knew that he knew that that was practically when they had very first met. The apothecarist was silent for a long moment.

“I remember…” Roman said, wanting to fill the silence, “one of the other recruits had cut me during a practice fight, and they had me come to you for a poultice. To—to make sure it didn’t get infected. You’d barely finished your apprenticeship, but everyone said you were the best.”

“You were very clumsy at the start,” Logan remembered. “You kept getting injured, and needing to return. You were very lucky only to receive trivial wounds.”

Roman bit his lip. Logan looked at him funny.

“…I’ve been practicing with a sword pretty much since I could walk,” Roman confessed.

Logan stared at him. “So….”

“I wanted to see you. You were just… I wanted to keep seeing you, but you were always so professional back then, turning me down whenever I asked if you wanted to hang out away from the apothecary.”

“I see.”

Roman knew he was bright red. “So, I, uh, kept having little mishaps. Or just kind of wandering over there. And then… eventually, I guess I wore you down, and you agreed to go to the library with me.”

“I needed a tome on the applications of helenium,” Logan recalled quietly. “I went with you because I was already going there.”

“I know,” Roman said simply. Then he gave Logan a weak smile. “And it worked, didn’t it? We were friends after that.”

Acquaintances, he recalled Logan saying. Close acquaintances, he had eventually allowed. But it was true. They were friends. Logan did not correct him, he noticed.

“I never wanted to pressure you,” Roman continued. “I never wanted to make you do anything that you didn’t want to do, and I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. But… it’s true. I’ve—I’ve loved you for a long time.” He looked down at the blankets, finding it difficult to meet Logan’s eyes. “So—so, I just wanted to know… if you might feel the same way. It’s okay if you don’t! And It’s okay if you don’t—if you don’t love me; but if you’d like to, I don’t know, try this out… I would just really like to give it a chance.”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Roman’s heart was pounding. Long seconds ticked by, each one dragging on like hours.

“I think,” the apothecarist said finally, hesitantly reaching out and taking Roman’s hand, “That I would like that as well.”

Roman’s mouth fell open, and he jerked back, staring at Logan. Logan just looked at him, real and alive. Tears welled in Roman’s eyes, and he took Logan’s hand in both of his own. He blinked the tears away so he could search Logan’s face. A few rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t care. “Really?” he croaked, scarcely believing he might have heard correctly.

Logan nodded, and then he smiled. “Really.”

...

Roman and Logan planned to meet at the base of the South Tower, which was one of the four largest towers of the wall, home to both the largest concentrations of knights as well as the main tunnels leading out from the settlement. Other tunnels existed, but they were mainly used for emergencies. It was much easier to know who was in the woods and who had safely returned, or more importantly, who had not, when they all had to leave from one place.

Roman had gathered the supplies he normally took on missions beyond the settlement—his uniform, of course, and his sword, as well as a tent and a few other items that fit neatly in a pack slung across his shoulders. Roman also preferred to bring his own water. There were ways to tell if dark magic had polluted a water source, but Roman preferred to just assume none were safe.

He spotted Logan, with his ever-ridiculously straight posture, just beside the tunnel entrance. He, too, wore a pack over his shoulders, and it looked like he was wearing a pair of black leather gloves.

Roman swallowed his doubts about this ‘outing’ and put on a smile. “Hello!” he called.

“There you are,” Logan said, turning towards him. He waited while Roman jogged closer, pulling a pocket watch from his coat and checking the time. “I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten.”

Roman put a hand over his heart. “I would never! Are you ready to go?”

“Yes; I have been ready for nearly forty-five minutes.” Logan held up the pocket watch for emphasis.

“Excellent!”

The pair stepped into the tunnel, which was lit by more of those electric lanterns, with torches here and there as well, probably just in case the lanterns failed. Just past the entrance a handful of sentries stood, speaking with a group of traders and knights who appeared to be from one of the eastern settlements, waiting to get through with an armored cart laden with goods. One of the sentries checked off a few final things on his clipboard, nodded to his colleagues, and the group was allowed to pass.

“Ah, Sir Roman, you’re going beyond the wall?” one of them asked while the cart rattled down the passage.

“Good morning, Sir Rose! Yes, I will be accompanying the fine apothecarist here.”

She nodded, turning to a knew page on her clipboard and beginning to write. “How long do you plan to be gone?”

“At least until evening tonight,” Logan supplied. “Possibly until noon tomorrow.”

“I’ll put until tomorrow,” Sir Rose said. Her pen scratched on the paper. “And where will you be going?”

“I am collecting medicinal herbs, minerals, and other ingredients. Where I go will depend on their abundance and distribution.”

“Ah.” She hesitated.

“We won’t leave the southern woods,” Roman assured. “Walking distance, you know.”

The sentry nodded. “Try not to go too far in,” she suggested. “It’s easy to get turned around, and the monsters get more common the deeper you go.”

“Of course,” Logan said. “May we pass?”

“One more thing; I’ll just need an inventory of what you’re bringing out of the settlement. And I trust you both have weapons?”

Roman patted his sword, and Logan pulled aside his coat to show his dagger. Then, after a quick list of what was in their packs, plus an obligatory glance in each bag to confirm, and a signature from each of them, they were allowed to move on.

“I ought to bring you more often,” Logan commented as they made their way through the passage. “Normally it takes more than twice as long to be cleared to leave.”

“Thank you, I know I make an excellent travel partner.”

They continued on for a few seconds, walking over the smooth stone floor, their path lit by flameless lanterns and the opening of the tunnel exit beyond.

“…Hey, Logan?”

“Yes, Roman?”

“How does electricity work?”

…

That first day in the woods, they didn’t have many problems.

They came across a ghoul about a mile into their hike, which Roman quickly dispatched with a swing of his sword. It was satisfying, watching the thing crumble to dust. He even managed not to get any of the mess on his uniform—he loved how dashing it made him look, but it really was a pain to clean, sometimes. They also carefully avoided a pond which, at first glance, appeared perfectly normal, but seemed to glow faintly from within.

“I don’t think that was here last time I came this way,” Logan commented, sounding intrigued. “Although that was in early spring. Perhaps it is a seasonal feature? I would love to collect a sample.”

Roman scrunched up his nose, eyeing the too-inviting pond, and was quick to remind Logan that they were on a time limit. And Logan had to admit that poking around a likely cursed pond when they didn’t have to was probably not a smart idea. So, they avoided the pond.

Around noontime, Roman was pretty sure that he saw a pair of harpies in the distance, flying between the tallest trees near the top of the canopy, but they didn’t come too close. Roman probably wouldn’t have noticed them at all, had one of them not cast a shadow as they passed over a gap in the leaves.

Other times, they heard distant screeches or howls. It was faintly disturbing, but at least they could listen for if any of these signs of life came a little too close. Roman was very glad that they didn’t need to worry about ear protection: banshees stayed much further north at this time of year. It would have been much more difficult to keep watch for any trouble, if they had to stunt one of their senses. Even if it would also block out some of the creepiness.

Logan didn’t seem overly concerned about being in the woods, content to simply collect his potion ingredients; but he did keep his dagger ready. Roman kept post as guard watching the trees for movement. He wasn’t especially interested in the things Logan was collecting, but this mission as protective detail was much more exciting than standing post on the wall all day. And while this part of the woods seemed relatively empty, Roman did not like the idea of Logan out here alone. It only took one monster getting the drop on him. And Logan’s dagger was a far cry from a sword.

As the day wore on and they ventured further into the woods, seeking the specific materials Logan needed, things seemed to grow even quieter. Roman was relieved. Maybe Logan had been in the woods before, and maybe he claimed to be able to deal with monsters, but no one was ever truly safe beyond the wall. The fewer monsters around, the better.

They ended up going rather further in than Roman had intended them to go, but Logan pointed out that it had been hours since they’d last seen any kind of creature, and if they didn’t get everything he needed now, they would simply have to return. Roman couldn’t argue with that, so he followed along, keeping a look out. With how far in they went, Roman knew that they wouldn’t make good time to get back, and he did not want to wander the woods in the dark. It would be all too easy for something to sneak up in the dark, plus it would be incredibly embarrassing if Roman tripped over a root and fell on his face in front of Logan. They did have torches, but drawing less attention was always better this far from home.

Near sundown, they found clearing which had a decently flat floor, and decided to make camp for the night there. It was on the crest of a slight hill, which would give them an advantage if any monsters decided to come sniffing around in the dark. Logan had chosen the spot, although his reluctance at not continuing a little longer was clear. He and Roman both knew that it would be easier and safer to eat and set up their tent while they still had light, though, so he didn’t complain.

Soon, the tent was set up. The lantern within let off a cheery glow, flickering merrily, even if looming shadows still filled large swaths of the space. They only had one bedroll—Logan’s—since they planned to sleep in shifts. As confident in this mission as Logan was, he wasn’t foolhardy enough to let them both be unwary at once. Of course, even if he had been, Roman would not have let that happen.

They ate a quick dinner, of hard, cold, and rather tasteless provisions. Roman knew better than to risk cooking food over a fire, or even bring food that smelled too delicious and might attract company, but would it kill Logan to bring something that didn’t taste like the field rations they gave knights who were going on long-term, far-flung missions?

...Actually, that might have been exactly what this was, Roman thought, looking over the brick of what might be some kind of grain meal before taking another stiff bite. He wasn’t sure where Logan had gotten it. Maybe there was some sort of knight surplus store. Roman had never exactly gone out of his way to get these rations.

Logan finished his meal first, clearing his throat and taking a long drink of water.

“I’ll take first watch,” Roman announced, setting aside what remained of his own rations, and shifting a napkin so it was less obvious how much was left..

“That would be appreciated,” Logan said. He looked tired, for good reason. He had been up and down all day, pulling up plants and digging in rocky cliffs for mineral deposits.

They cleaned up the remains of dinner, brushed their teeth, and got ready for bed, or in Roman’s case, for his watch. Logan sighed as he sat down on the bed roll. He removed the pocket watch and several of the items they had collected that day from his coat (what there hadn’t been room for in his pack, minus what Roman had agreed to carry) and set them to the side. “Please wake me in a few hours for my shift,” he said. “And do keep a vigilant watch.” He reached for the blanket.

“Aren’t you going to remove your coat?” Roman asked, watching. They had brought more than one blanket, and it was summer besides—Logan wasn’t keeping the garment to help with the chill.

“I would like to be prepared,” Logan said. “This is not the first venture I have made, and I am cognizant of the creatures found in these woods.” He patted his coat where his dagger was hidden, then pulled the blanket over himself, moving to lay down.

Roman grinned at him and held up his sword, posing, well aware of how impressive he looked in his stark white uniform. “Not to worry, Logan, for the noble knight Sir Roman will protect you!”

Logan rolled his eyes, but then he smiled, just a little.

Romans heart fluttered.

Logan removed his spectacles and set them to the side, with his other belongings. “Sure, Roman. Good night.” Logan never called him by his title, but Roman didn’t actually mind, not when it was Logan.

“Good night.” Roman slid his sword back in its scabbard and turned to leave the tent. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Logan’s eyes closed, his chest rising and falling gently. It was clear he was already asleep, or nearly so.

Roman bit his lip, allowing himself to watch for just a few seconds, appreciating the moment, under the guise of making sure he had everything (in case Logan wasn’t actually asleep). The coziness of the tent; the warm, tranquil night air; the fact that they got to be here together. Yet his heart ached. He and Logan were best friends, at least if you asked Roman, and that was something wonderful that he wouldn’t trade for the world… but sometimes, he did wish that that they could be more than that.

Some things just weren’t meant to be. Roman knew that. He turned out the lantern and silently left the tent.

The forest beyond their little shelter was dark and still, with densely packed trees stretching in all directions. It was too dark to see the rocky outcrops that occasionally broke up the landscape. There was just enough light to see, from the soft moonlight filtering down through the canopy. They were lucky that the moon was nearly full.

For a while, Roman paced around the edges of the tent, his sword ready, watching for any sign of something amiss. But as the hours ticked by, with no sign of any unwanted visitors, he slowed down. He eventually sheathed his sword, but kept his hand on the handle.

Still, nothing happened. Another hour, and it would be time to wake Logan so that he could take over the watch. Roman found a rock to sit upon, and perched himself there, deciding to just listen to the woods, and scan the trees.

Twenty more minutes dragged by. Roman was holding back yawns—it had been a long day, and a longer night. He blinked hard, trying to clear some of the sleepiness.

Crack.

Roman froze, instantly wide awake.

A twig, breaking. Some distance off. It was small. Potentially insignificant. Yet that one, seemingly innocuous sound filled Roman with a sudden, queasy sense of fear. He slowly stood, unsheathed his sword, and turned towards the sound.

Silence.

Then, after a long pause, came a chuckle. Just a little too loud, for how far away it seemed to be.

The trees moved. A huge, monstrously proportioned creature seemed to melt out of the shadows. Glowing, poisonously green eyes met Roman’s, and a too-wide mouth split into a grin, the filthy, too-large teeth glinting in the moonlight.

It was a giant. Twenty-five feet tall, at least, with thick, thorny, leathery-skinned legs like old tree trunks, enormous hands like boulders, powerful shoulders, and of course, those awful green eyes.

“LOGAN!” Roman shrieked.

There was a commotion from inside the tent, but it was like the shout was exactly what the giant was waiting for. He came running forward, enormous feet pounding across the earth, closing the  distance between them in seconds.

Roman swung his sword, but he barely made a mark in the giant’s thick skin. He tried again, aiming higher, and cut a thin line near the giant’s knee. Not deep enough to cause any real harm. He hardly damaged more than the rags of the giant’s clothes.

Roman was still shouting as the giant’s hands tore the tent to ribbons. As he lifted something—someone—into the open air, struggling wildly.

Roman cut, and slashed, and stabbed, and still it seemed to do nothing against the giant’s armored flesh. He tried pinning the giant’s robes to the forest floor, but the cloth simply ripped free, and the giant didn’t seem to care.

The giant laughed, and laughed. Logan continued to struggle as the giant lifted him higher and higher. Roman knew he was trying to get to his dagger, but the giant was hardly letting him move at all.

“Ooh, so squirmy!” the giant said gleefully.

“Unhand him!” Roman shouted, stabbing again with his sword, putting all of his strength into the blow. He must have hit a weak spot in the tough armor of the giant’s skin, because this time, the sword sank in halfway to its hilt.

The monster let out surprised roar and spun toward Roman. His fists, Logan still gripped in them, swung closer, and Roman caught a glimpse of Logan’s terror-stricken face, his normally neatly combed dark hair flung wildly in his face. He hadn’t even had time to put on his spectacles. Roman had never seen him look so afraid.

The giant batted Roman away, still holding Logan. Roman was sent flying back, but he managed to keep his grip on the sword, which was wrenched free from the giant’s leg by the force.

Roman hit the ground hard and rolled, collecting bumps and bruises that would surely hurt in the morning, but all he felt in that moment was the buzz of adrenaline and an icy pit of fear. He even managed to avoid falling on his own sword in that uncontrolled fall—at least those protective enchantments were good for something.

The knight finally hit a bush and skidded to a stop. He immediately staggered to his feet, breathing hard. He had to get to Logan; there was no time to recover. He adjusted his grip on the sword, spat out a bit of blood, and turned to face the giant. Apparently, the giant’s bleeding leg didn’t hurt him that badly, because he certainly didn’t seem bothered by the injury. The giant was now ignoring Roman, his attention seemingly focused entirely on Logan.

Who he was shaking around like a rag doll.

The giant cackled madly, watching Logan’s limbs bounce like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Logan was clearly trying to curl in on himself, to stop himself from being flung about so much.

“Oh, no you don’t, you party pooper!” the giant cackled.

Roman was running back towards the giant, his sword raised.

The giant gripped one of Logan’s arms in one dirt-encrusted hand, and yanked, trying to force him to straighten his limbs.

As Logan’s body jerked to the side, he cried out—only for the sound to be cut off as his head collided with the heavy metal chain of the bone-studded bracelet on the giant’s wrist with a sickening, solid thunk.

Logan went limp.

Horror cut so deeply into Roman’s soul that is was as if a sword had pierced him clean through. He felt rather than heard himself scream.

He came to such an abrupt halt, it was as if he’d hit an invisible wall. No.

...

Roman gasped and sat upright. Or at least, he tried to. Gentle but firm hands pushed him down as Roman realized he was moving, being carried on a stretcher. Blue sky shone above, rather than those endless trees.

“Sir Roman, it’s the guard, we’ve got you—“

“Logan,” Roman interrupted, “Where’s Logan; is he okay?”

“He’s here,” said a voice. Roman quickly tried again to sit up and turn to look, which... judging by how his stomach rolled and black rushed in from the edges of his vision, may have been a mistake.

…

He caught glimpses of blue sky and anonymous faces, snatches of conversation, but he couldn’t seem to properly hold on to reality until he realized he was being lowered onto a bed. Several sets of footsteps left the room, their owners murmuring quietly. A door shut. He opened his eyes.

“Please stay down,” said a voice. “You’ll be alright; you’re safe now. Just let me look you over.”

A woman stood at the bedside—a doctor, judging by her appearance. “Logan?” Roman asked.

Hands began gently examining him, feeling along his arms and legs. “He’s alive. They’re taking him for surgery. They’ll bring him here after.”

He’s alive.

“Surgery?”

“For his leg. They’re trying to save it.”

Roman swallowed. “Will he be okay?”

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look. “He’ll live. I saw his leg, though, and I won’t lie to you. If he does keep it, I’d be very surprised if he didn’t need a cane.”

Roman sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Oh.” Logan would not be happy about that. Even if a cane would make him look distinguished.

“For now, let’s focus on you. Does anything feel broken? What hurts? I see that bruise on your head, and your feet aren’t in great shape, either, but if there’s anything else. Like that blood on your side—is that yours?”

Roman swallowed, suddenly very aware of where his coat stuck to his side. He could still feel Logan’s head pressed there. “Ah... no. But I hurt my ribs,” he admitted.

“Okay. I’ll look at those after we get this head wound sorted.”

She reached up, and Roman belatedly noticed the ice pack that had been placed on his head as she took it away. “It looks like the swelling’s already gone down. Can you tell me your name?”

“Roman. Uh, Sir Roman.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sir Roman. My name is Valerie. And what day is today?”

Roman hesitated a little too long, but he was able to tell her.

“Okay. That’s good.” She held up one finger. “Follow this please?” She moved her finger from one side to the other, and Roman did his best to follow it. He had a feeling he didn’t do a great job, based on her expression.

In the end, Valerie told him he had a minor concussion, two likely cracked ribs, some bad cuts on his feet that had to be cleaned and in one case stitched, a badly sprained ankle, and a lot of bruising. She’d had to cut off the shirt of the uniform he’d been so proud of, but Roman found he didn’t care.

After Roman had been treated, some of the knights came in to find out what exactly had happened to him and Logan, and why they had gone so far into the woods alone in the first place. Roman had to admit that they were right, saying that he should have found more knights to accompany them once they had decided to go further from the settlement, or should have tried harder to stop Logan from going at all. Some of them seemed rather angry about it. Roman didn’t blame them.

It was late afternoon by the time they brought Logan back. When it became clear Roman had no intentions of staying horizontal, Valerie helped him to sit up against some pillows.

The people who brought Logan in carefully lay him on the second bed in the room. The apothecarist had been dressed in loose medical garb that didn’t suit him at all. His eyes were shut and shadowed, and his head and leg were thickly bandaged. He was still very pale. But his leg was still there, and Roman could see his chest gently rise and fall. The sight filled him with a dizzying relief.

One of the doctors, or nurses, or whoever they were who’d brought Logan back to him, stepped aside to quietly converse with Valerie.

Roman just watched the steady rhythm of Logan’s breathing, a part of him fearing it might stop if he looked away.

The other person stepped out, and Valerie turned to Logan, picking up a blanket and laying it over him. She left his injured leg exposed. After a glance in Roman’s direction, she also folded it down just enough that Roman could still see his chest move.

“How is he?” Roman asked, his eyes not leaving his friend.

“They saved his leg,” she replied, “though it’s almost certain he’ll need a cane. He also has a concussion.”

“But he’ll… you said he’ll live, right?”

Valerie gave him a reassuring look. “As long as nothing changes, he will.”

“When’ll he wake up?”

Valerie hummed. “He might wake up sometime tomorrow. They gave him a sedative for the surgery, and he needs time to rest and recover. He’s not in great shape.”

“…Okay.” ‘Might wake up tomorrow’ was certainly much better than ‘might wake up’. And they had saved his leg—also very good news. Logan would kill him if he found out someone had cut off his leg on Roman’s watch.

Logan still had his leg, and his life. At least Roman hadn’t entirely failed to protect him.

…

Logan slept through the entire next day. Roman also dozed for much of the time, admittedly exhausted and without much else to do. His day was broken up by small, plain meals, and when Valerie or one of the other doctors came to check on Logan and Roman. Each time, they’d look them over, give Logan and Roman some medicine, and if necessary, change their bandages. Roman was not a fan of the bitter taste of his painkillers, but they were better than putting up with the pain. It looked like Logan was receiving more medicines than Roman, which he supposed made sense. Roman didn’t ask what any of the potions were. Logan probably would have known.

Over the course of the day, Logan’s color seemed to improve, and Valerie seemed pleased by whatever she was looking for when she examined him. But, still, he stayed asleep. Roman was worried.

“He could wake up sometime tonight,” Valerie mused, her fingers pressed to Logan’s neck, “but I would not count on it.” She took her fingers away, then took a bottle from her coat and dabbed a liquid from within on Logan’s lips, letting a small amount trickle into his mouth. “He’ll likely be pretty out of it, if he does. Try not to overwhelm him. Just keep him calm, and call for a doctor if none of us is in the room.”

Roman wilted a little, but he nodded. He really, really wanted to talk to Logan—he needed to—but more than that, he needed Logan to be okay. And it wouldn’t exactly be worth it to talk to him if he wouldn’t remember it, or be present enough to really take part.

Roman was silent for a moment.

“When he’s well enough,” he asked hesitantly, “would you mind giving us a moment alone? I’d, um... really like to talk to him. Alone.” Sure, Valerie wasn’t always in this room, but she or another doctor seemed to always be just in the other room beyond, where Roman was sure they could hear anything said in this one.

Valerie looked confused for a moment, glancing between him and Logan, probably wondering what on earth he could want to speak about; but then realization flickered in her eyes. Roman felt mildly embarrassed, but Valerie just turned back to him and nodded, smiling kindly. “Of course. I’ll make sure you two get some time alone. But if anything seems wrong, you call me back right away. I’ll go far enough that you can talk in peace, but I will not leave the building.”

Roman did his best to pretend his face wasn’t flushed pink. “I will, I promise. Thank you.”

Valerie nodded, then went to change Logan’s bandages. Roman watched as she carefully unwound the gauze from Logan’s head, checked and cleaned the wound, and spread a salve over it before wrapping his head in fresh bandages. She then went to the foot of the bed and did the same for his leg. Roman didn’t watch that. He wasn’t squeamish; he was a knight, but... this was Logan. And he’d already seen what the giant had done to his leg.

“Will he be in much pain when he wakes?” Roman asked.

“We’ll give him a potion for that.” She glanced up at Roman, who continued to look away, since she wasn’t quite finished with Logan’s leg. “Don’t worry. He’ll be getting the good stuff.”

Roman chucked weakly.

Valerie finished tending to Logan, then turned to Roman, who was not exactly eager to have more of that salve put on his cut feet. It stung.

Finally, she was securing the last bandage in place.

“Okay, I’m just about finished here. Someone will be in in a couple of hours; but of course, if something happens, just call out. Do you need anything before I go? I could help you lay back down—might be more comfortable, for sleeping tonight.”

Roman glanced at Logan, who was still sleeping peacefully, then shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine like this. Thank you so much for all of your help.”

“It’s no problem. It’s my job.”

“Still. Thank you.”

Valerie nodded, gathered her things, and left.

Roman sighed, settled back against his pillows, and closed his eyes.

…

Even during the night, every hour or two, someone would come in to check on Roman and Logan. Roman was not exactly happy to have his sleep repeatedly disturbed. How was he supposed to get back to his normal, fabulous self if no one let him have his beauty sleep? But he was glad that they were keeping an eye on Logan, at least.

Then, there came one instance when he couldn’t have been less annoyed to be woken up.

He’d been dreaming, he thought, of shadowy forests and bloody faces and glowing, sickly green eyes, when a sound brought him back towards wakefulness. As Roman drifted out of sleep, he placed it as a quiet moan.

Roman frowned and opened his eyes, looking around. It was clearly still nighttime, and the room was dim, lit only by moonlight filtering through a thin white curtain over the window, and by a soft glow from under the door. Daybreak had to be an hour or two off, yet.

There was a shifting of fabric from his right, and suddenly Roman realized what—or rather, who—had woken him.

“Logan?” he asked softly, looking over at the other bed.

Logan’s head shifted, his eyelids fluttering, then opening halfway. He let out another, even softer groan.

Roman sat up straighter, trying not to wince as his ribs protested. “Logan,” he tried again. “You with me?”

After a pause, Logan’s eyes slid in his direction. Even in the dimness, Roman could see how drowsy he looked. His normally sharp blue eyes looked glazed. His eyebrows furrowed, and Roman realized he appeared to be growing more nervous and confused.

“Hey, it’s me, Roman. We’re home,” Roman whispered, hoping to reassure him. “They got us out. We’re okay. You’re in the hospital, but they’re going to have you all fixed up in no time.”

The words didn’t seem to register. Logan shifted again, looking agitated. He made a distressed sound.

Roman bit his lip. Time for plan B. He pushed aside his own blanket, and, taking a second to brace himself, pushed himself to his feet. He gritted his teeth, grimacing, then hobbled over to Logan’s bed.

The bed wasn’t very wide, but his favorite nerd was very skinny, so there was plenty of room for Roman to sit on the edge of the bed. He took Logan’s hand, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. The apothecarist usually wasn’t exactly cuddly.

“Hey,” Roman whispered, as Logan’s eyelids drooped, then opened again.

Logan mumbled something. Something about a potion? It didn’t make much sense. Maybe Logan thought he was at his apothecary, or that they were still out in the woods, gathering supplies. Valerie had said he’d be out of it.

Roman hesitated, nodded to himself, then carefully swung up one of his legs onto the bed, the one whose ankle was sprained. There wasn’t enough room for him to fully lay on the bed, but this was more comfortable.

He rubbed his thumb across the back of Logan’s hand in small circles, still nervous about whether Logan would be okay with this, but the injured apothecarist seemed to relax as Roman continued the gentle, repetitive motion. Roman’s heart swelled, and he swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat.

He’d nearly lost this. For a while there, he had thought he had. Even if Roman himself had somehow managed to escape, he would have never had the chance to tell Logan how he really felt. It would have been too late. Logan could have been gone forever, and Roman would have never known if things could be different.

“Roman?” came a weak, wavering voice.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me. We’re in the hospital.”

Three seconds of silence passed. Roman thought perhaps Logan had fallen back to sleep, but then his hand twitched in Roman’s, like a weak attempt to squeeze it. “You okay?” he mumbled.