Beginning

Extended Summery: Keldorn’s investigation into the Cult of the Unseeing Eye brings back memories… and more. Includes a somewhat emo and repressed Keldorn, a very understanding (maybe too understanding) Maria, and a very slutty mystery male. SLASH between two gentlemen of serious age difference (roughly twenty years?). If that squicks you, then please step away from the fic.

A/N: this is part one of a series which (hopefully!) will eventually be Keldorn/Anomen, with the mention/minor pairing of Yoshimo/Renal Bloodscalp, Keldorn/Gaelan Bayle, Anomen/female PC (unrequited) and Jaheria/female PC. Yes, I am completely serious. Yes I am aware that Anomen is one of the most hated characters in the game. Please review… reviews, no matter what they contain, excite me terribly.


The sewers were an oppressive mix of darkness and the stench of waste and carrion. At his feet lay the foul corpses of the undead, undead whose thick, dark blood now stained the white steel of his sword. The odd, wet heat that emanated through the underground tunnels weighed upon his breath and clouded his mind. Every drip of water, every scampering of small rat feet sounded like an approaching army, and the evil that radiated from this area of the sewers struck cold fear into his heart. He stood waiting in silence, either for the enemy or for the promised reinforcements that had been due to arrive hours ago. Or at least he thought it had been hours ago – it quite possibly could have been days, or mere moments.

Though he had served the Order for years, Keldorn rarely had been asked to go into enemy territory alone, and never before had the Order requested he go into the sewers on business. In fact, before a few days ago he had but once ventured into the sewers, and that previous adventure had occurred nearly twenty years ago… and he had done everything in his powers to forget it. But now that he was back within this place, the green gray slime and dark rock static and unchanged, he could not keep the events from his mind. Desperately he tried to focus on something else, anything else – Maria, the Order, his years of service to Torm, but everything that used to be simple and good was tainted and complex, all bee ofe of a single event, twenty years prior. A single event that triggered downfall after downfall for the Knight, and a lifetime of regret and inner turmoil.

Keldorn leaned back against the wall, feeling the cool, spongy filth of the sewer walls grease his hair and seep into the skin of his neck. The heat within his thick encasement of armor became stifling, and suddenly he felt tired beyond belief. ‘You are here to do a job, man… Pull yourself together!’ he commanded himself, but his resolve had slackened. He had been in these sewers too long to ignore the memories they invoked, and a part of him believed that reinforcements would not arrive, not within the next few days at least. The Order had too much on its proverbial plate right now, and Sir Ryan Trawl had too much on his mind – this mysterious sewer cult was anything but a high priority. He knew that he had been chosen for this assignment because he was trusted by his superiors not to be corrupted by the evil that had seduced many of the clerics of surrounding temples, but it still felt as though he had been cursed by the gods himself to find himself back in these sewers, after so many years… That he should find himself back here, where he fell victim to an even more base temptation, now when he was truly beginning to feel his age, and beginning to feel his weakness.

At the time, Keldorn had only recently become known widely among his fellow Knights as a man of goodness and virtue, compliments that irked him each time they passed his ears. It was true that he always actively strived to lead a right and good life, but inside of him there resided a creature of a dark and sickening nature. He fought each day to control the demon within him, to keep himself upon the path of righteousness and though it was a hard battle he had always managed to overcome the obstacle of his dark side. Indeed, by that time he had succeeded so far in ridding himself of his taint that several months had gone by without a single straying of his mind. And indeed, that very day he had emerged from his home confident that he had finally overcome his weakness.

However, his victory was short lived.

He moved through the day as he often did, escorting his wife and their daughter to the circus at the Promenade. He was proud of his little Vesper, who though was still quite young was quickly developing a bright mind and sweet disposition. He had no doubt that she would grow into a beautiful and intelligent woman some day. Both his daughter and wife brought him great contentment – Maria was easily the most beautiful and kind creature he had ever encountered, and he was sorry for the time he had to spend away from her company and the company of their daughter. More than anything though, the normalcy of his life brought him contentment. His family was always a source of joy for him, his wife a women of few complexities and his child a girl with no apparent difficulties. He lived in a lovely estate, but not the finest nor the most elaborate – an estate that no one would ever try to take from him or his children. The love between he and his wife was a simple and unquestionable thing – he knew that she wished for no other, and he had never truly cared for women all that much either. His future seemed a secure and simple thing – his only concerns being the order and hife. fe. All in all, he led a life of contented simplicity, and never once did he think to question his life or himself.

He was on his way to the Radiant Heart when his life as he knew it ended. He was in no hurry that day, and stopped to chat with a young gnomish lass who sometimes sold her wares in the Temple Districts. She went by the name of Kylie and kept up the pretense of selling turnips, though from the number of customers she was seen doing business with Keldorn was sure she sold much more than vegetables. However, in their previous encounters he had determined that she had a good, kind heart and a perchance for interesting but harmless gossip. Keldorn did not consider many himself a man of many friends, as he did not often associate with those outside the Order, but he enjoyed Kylie’s stories and her manner immensely, and would have been happy to call the short woman his friend. They conversed about inconsequential things, as was their way until a sudden bustle of chaos in the early morning crowd of priests and supplicants interrupted them.
Several murmurs and shouts erupted from a nearby cluster of people struggling to make their way along the narrow overpasses. Keldorn at first saw nothing amiss, and then a fast, flickering movement among the crowd caught his eye. He was able to catch a glimpse of a brown hooded cape covering a thin form, and a flash of dark hair before a scream cut through the air.“THI“THIEF!!! Someone stop that man!” called out a woman’s voice. The crowd parted and Keldorn caught sight of the source of the commotion – a young, though frail looking priestess. She wore the dark colors of the god Talos – an evil god, but nevertheless she was a member of the clergy. Keldorn had a strong dislike of thieves, but those who would steal from a helpless cleric were particularly distasteful to him. The thief in question dodged through the surprised crowd unmolested and out into the open, where Keldorn was able to catch a good glimpse of the man and his prize – a heavy and ornate necklace, obviously of great importance and value. The thief hurriedly secreted the jewel into his cloak and continued to flee.

Without a second thought, Keldorn gave chase, only remotely aware of young Kylie’s cheering. He wished that he had time to lecture each and every individual that had stood by and done nothing while the thief had assaulted the unarmed woman and made his escape, but he could spare nothing but a furious glance at the crowd, which by this time contained more than one temple guard.

Keldorn refocused his attention upon the fleeing man, just in time to see him throw open the sewer grate and disappear down into the dark tunnels. Without hesititation Keldorn followed, ignoring the stench and the strangeness of his new surroundings. Quickly he jumped down into the darkness, willing his eyes to adjust to cha changing light.
The man he had been pursuing was no longer in sight, and the separate tunnels branching off of the main one were many. Momentarily he considered abandoning his search, but to do so would be a shame to both the Order and himself, so he, having no other alternative, chose a tunnel at random and hoped for the best. He had never been trained to track men, not like rangers of the woods did, but his time with the Order had taught him a few useful tricks. After trudging through the sewage and darkness of his chosen tunnel for several moments, he closed his eyes and, murmuring an old incantation, concentrated on finding evil within the area. He sensed several evil creatures, but none of them were human, meaning that the thief was not evil, unless he was a shape changer of some sort, which Keldorn strongly doubted.

Not knowing what else to do, Keldorn continued along his chosen path, which he strongly suspected was leading him around the circumference of the sewers. Due to his spell moments before, he knew that most of the evil was in or around tenteenter of the sewers, and assumed that the thief, if he had sense, would avoid that area. However after roughly half an hour of walking Keldorn still had seen no sign of the thief.

Then, suddenly, there was an echo of stone against stone, somewhere behind him. Abandoning all caution Keldorn quickly backtracked along the tunnel until he came to a doorway that had not been there previously. He quickly entered, only to find an empty stone room with a door on the far wall, which he discovered was locked. Cursing his luck he slammed his fist into the door in frustration – he had no skill in the art of lock picking, and had never had the inclination to learn spells that would act to the same affect. After a moment of staring angrily at the door, hoped suddenly bloomed within him again – what if the thief had not managed to make it into his stronghold before Keldorn had arrived? It was quite probable the man had, through magic or potions made himself invisible and was silently waiting for Keldorn to leave so that he could make his escape in peace.

Thankfully the Order, while they had not taught him the skills of a thief, had given him an invaluable skill in dealing with thieves. For most magic users, it would be impossible to cast the spell without warning the thief, but for Inquisitors the spell could be executed without anyone being any the wiser, until the thief’s invisibility was dispelled. Keldorn closed his eyes momrilyrily, at once casting the spell and praying that his instinct was right. As soon as the spell was complete he quickly turned on his heel and surveyed the room, only to find that he had been correct.

The man stood flush against the stone wall, not three feet from where Keldorn stood. With some slight amusement the Knight watched as the man realized he had been detected, the somewhat tanned face losing all color as the man bolted towards the door. In two steps Keldorn intercepted, catching the man and using his weight to through him back up against the wall. The stranger let out a great gasp of air as his back hit the hard stone of the wall, causing Keldorn to wince ever so slightly. Due to his earlier spell he knew that this man was not evil… and now, upon further examination he discovered that the man was truly but a boy, perhaps not even twenty years of age. Keldorn, though he owned an estate in the Government district, had been raised among the working class of the Bridge District. Though his childhood had been pleasantly uneventful he had witnessed many of his young friends, who were good men at heart, stray from the path of virtue. This boy too, could be but a lost and confused soul, trying to survive in a world of poverty and chaos. Such youth could not find the way to the path of right on their own – they had to be show the way, be led by example, and among the poor of Athkatla, examples of righteousness were hard to find.

“You’re a lot smarter than me thought you to be,” admitted the boy, still somewhat breathless. His voice was ragged, the voice of a child newly become a man, the accent clearly denoting him as being one of the lower class. There was something frightfully alluring about that voice.

“Do you expect a Knight of the Order of the Radiant Heart to be an idiot?” Keldorn shot back, his hand still flat against the boy’s chest in case he decided to attempt escape again.

“Well, I suppose me did. Your kind generally… isn’t the quickest of wit.”

“So says the young thief who has been caught by one of ‘my kind’. Do you have a name boy?”

“I most certainly do, but I won’t be telling you what it is.”

“Fair enough – the garrison will get it out of you, regardless.”

The boy’s face grew paler still – the courts of Athkatla were not known to be tost ost fair, and the boy could easily find himself imprisoned for several years for jusis ois one incident.

“That isn’t really necessary, now is it? ‘m quite sure we could come to some agreement, between the two of us…”

“I don’t make agreements with thieves! Especially those who rob priestesses.”

“Now that… that was just incidental. I would have liked not to have taken it from her, specifically-”

“And yet you did, and you should be made to answer for such a crime.”

“What if I gave you the necklace? That pompous ass of a woman probably has several… and just this one is enough to secure a single man for many years.”

“I have no need of it for myself. You’ll give it here and I will ask the magistrates to be lenient,” Keldorn said, though his resolve was wavering. Perhaps there was some alternative to giving the boy up to the guards… perhaps he could serve his penance through the Order, somehow. He could speak to Ryan Trawl about-

“Ah, so you be a noble like the rest of them… should have figureom ‘om ‘our highborn accent an’ all,” the boy said, seeming oddly downcast, perhaps at the prospect of his certain prison sentence.

Keldorn was surprised at how urgently he wished to convince the boy that he understood his predicament, that he was only doing his duty, that he wasn’t the enemy. For some reason, ‘noble’ seemed a more lowly title than idiot.

“No one in their right mind would call me a noble. Though I have no want of money I am well aware of the hardships that the youth of today are faced with, and I’ve witnessed first hand some of the unsavory things boys like you are forced to do to survive.”

The deep brown eyes looked up sharply at him, glinting with something unfathomable to Keldorn, who began to feel as though the situation was quickly getting out of control.

“Aye… you have, have ya? Well, there must be something you… need.” The tone wasn’t skeptical, but rather knowing, as if they had just struck a bargain of some . It. It was a solemn bargain, whatever it was – for a moment the boy looked as though he had nearly sold his soul. Then the moment passed, and the eyes glittered with a frightening determination.

“Where have you hidden the jewel, boy? I don’t think I quite trust you not to pull a weapon on me.”

The boy swallowed hard, his strangely elegant throat bobbing withirelirely too much fear. Keldorn mentally shook his head – he hadn’t meant to scare the boy so… and if the boy cooperated, Keldorn was prepared onsionsider bartering for an alternate form of punishment, as prison would likely do the boy more harm than good.

“It’s secured beneath the clasp of me belt, sir,” the boy said in a tone reminiscent of his bodily fear. He seemed to push himself up against the wall of his own accord now, but Keldorn couldn’t take any chances. He pushed the flat of his free arm against the boys chest, and with his other hand moved to find the jewel, accidentally brushing against the boy’s thinly clad stomach in the process. He expected some reaction, but there was none, and so he instead went about the business of finding the necklace. He felt around the area of the belt buckle, and sure enough there was a small tell bul bulge. As he began to loosen the belt to get at the necklace his hand happened to falter slightly, brushing lower, against another telltale bulge.

Keldorn’s hands stilled instantly and his breath caught. Deep within him his forgotten desire stirred, and instinctually his groin tightened. Ashamed and horrified, Keldorn began to pull away. The boy could keep the neck, fo, for all he cared… it was a lesser sin to let the boy feed himself than to want… what it was he wanted. Then, suddenly, he could not pull away, and he realized that the boy hand hold of him. Slowly, steadily his hand was pressed against the belt buckle and then pushed lower, onto that sinful hardness that had only grown harder and more tempting. Astonished, Keldorn looked up at the boy.

“’m thinking that necklace wasn’t the only reason ya followed me down here,” the boy said in a raspy tone of voice. Keldorn was completely shocked by this turn of events. Maria had often told him that he was a striking man, with his dark hair and his steel gray eyes, but he had never actually been sexually… approached by anyone. It had never occurred to him that anyone would be able to pick up on his secret weakness, that he would ever be in a situation where he could actually act on his strange desires.

“I want the necklace,” Keldorn answered unconvincingly.

“And you’ll have it, but ‘m not wantin to go to prison ya see… right over there, I have me apartments… and ya wont ever see me thiefin in your area, again, on me honor. I just give you what you want, and you forget all about me, yes?”

The boy movorwaorward, obviously in an attempt to get to the door, but Keldorn didn’t move out of his way – he stood still too frozen, too shocked by the idea that he was about to make real the hidden desires he had experienced all his life. He tried to fight it, but the temptation was too great – the feeling of the boy’s thin, hard body against his own was too irresistible.

And then the boy, perhaps in an attempt to cement his freedom or else an attempt to unfreeze the statue of the man before him pressed his lips hard against Keldorn’s. The shock of the feel of chapped lips savoring his own brought Keldorn back to life, and with all objections forgotten he pushed the boy back up against the wall, smashing their lips together even harder, devouring the boy whole. Never before had he been embraced like this – when he kissed Maria it was always a light, gentle and affectionate gesture, but this kiss was pure desire, pure passion. It took on a life of its own, possessed the two men, twisting them against each other as the struggled to disrobe, momentarily forgetting the door that stood not three feet away. Keldorn knew not truly what he wanted, or how to get what it was he wanted, but the boy clearly had experience in such matters and quickly took charge. The boy threw his weight against Keldorn, who soon found himself through against the wall, though all he truly was aware of were the boys thin, dry lips and smooth skin. Remotely heame ame aware of the loosening of his belt, and then the feel of his leggings being opened in the front. The boy brois lis lips away from Keldorn, sliding down to the floor.

Keldorn felt first the boy’s knees upon the tops of his boots, and found the lightness of his weight strangely frightening. Then, as the boy’s hands first came into contact with his burning member, all fear was forgotten.

No one, not even Maria, had dared touch him there… Lovemaking between himself and his wife was infrequent, polite, clean and gentle, completely devoid of the fire that this stranger had inspired in him, of the desire that had been sparked by so many young men. Keldorn never had allowed his own hands to touch himself – to do so would physically manifest the sinfulness that fueled his desires – so he was completely unprepared for the unbelievable pleasure of the boy’s trained stroking. He knew that he would not last long as it was, but when he felt himself ened bed by the sweet wet heat of that young mouth he was completely and utterly lost to the world. Within moments his pleasure was near unbearable, and then suddenly his world exploded as he came hard, the young boy milking every drop of his essence from him.

The boy released him, and for many moments Keldorn struggled to stay grounded and breathing, leaning against the wall, his mind still clouded with his pleasure. He felt someone gently tugging at his leggings and belt, but had not the clarity of mind to look down. Gradually, the world around him became more tangible, more real.

There was a solid weight in his hand.

Keldorn finally had the presence of mind to look down, to bring his hand up into his sight, and gently unclench his fist. Within was contained a shimmering necklace of large, misty lavender jewels incased within silver. It seemed somehow familiar. He looked into the boy’s eyes, questioning, and remembered.

Keldorn had never felt shame, not truly until that moment. He wanted to apologize to the boy, say something that would make everything riggaingain, or at least make everything wrong but simple. There, however, were no words to say to a boy who had just pleasured a man in order to save his own life. A man who was called good and virtuous by his peers, who had followed a boy down into the sewers, where he proceeded to trade a boy’s innocence for a worthless, gaudy necklace.

The boy,ll bll balancing his knees on the top of Keldorn’s boots, wiped his mouth absently as he stared up at him.

“Me suppose that’ill be all that you be wanting, sir?”

Keldorn reached for his gold purse, intending to give the boy everything he had, but the dark eyes angrily dissuaded him, and the Knight realized he had already done too much.

“Ya have your necklace now… and well, I-”

“No one will ever know you’re down here. No one will ever know you exist.”

The words were hollow, chocked and foreign on Keldorn’s lips. He could feel the filth of the sewer wall greasing his hair, seeping into ski skin.

“Well then. Me suppose that’ll be right – a secret for a secret.”

A little less than twenty years later, Keldorn, his silvery hair leaving no testament to the coal black it once was, pushed himself off of the sewer wall. He tried desperately to forget his repeated failings, tried to forget when in the darkest hour of the night, smelling of the sewers he entered his home, where his wife awaited him, smiling, blind to the red of his eyes.

“Keldorn, I’m… I’m with child again,” she told him, tears of joy in her eyes. Keldorn tried to smile, but was too horrified. Instead he walked through the length of his house, out through the back door where he stood in his garden in the dead of the night, and prayed to Torm for another daughter.

Torm had obviously witnessed his weakness, had obviously pitied him and perhaps even forgave him. Leona was born in the spring. The night of her birth, as father, mother and child sat upon their well-made bed together, Keldorn quietly related to Maria the events of that day in the sewers. He confessed to her his weakness – how he had always desired young men, how their strength and prowess seemed more alluring than the gentleness or beauty of a woman. She smiled, kissed him softly, and whispered in his ear so that their newborn child would not hear:

“I know. I’ve known for as long as I’ve known you.”

He told her his fear – that his abnormality would cause him to look upon his own sons with desire. She told him that he was mad to say such a ridiculous thing, that in time he would grow to accept himself as she had accepted him, that one day he would not fear himself. But never again had she bore him a child. And every night since then he had been completely honest with her.

Keldorn gripped his sword more tightly, and began his patrols once again, reminiscing about the simple life that he had lost – how everything became so complex when a person was honest with himself. Every day, every night since then had been lived with some small tinge of fear. He had shamed himself more than once, and he knew quite possibly that he would do so once again, that it was only a matter of time before his inner demons manifested. Maria… was unbelievably supportive and accepting. Each time he would find himself overpowered by his lust she would sit him down and he would talk about it, about his self-loathing, his uncertainty, his disgust. Being able to speak those words aloud was oddly a great comfort to him, as were Maria’s words. She told him of her great trust for him, that he was a good and righteous man, that one day he would come to terms with his feelings. Maria gradually became the strength he lack, and though he still wandered from the path of right from time to time, no longer was he as affected by his evil as he once was.

For the first time in years he turned his mind to the boy, his first… encounter. Victim. His first great mistake. He wondered how long afterwards the boy lived in his sewer “apartments”, if he was ever able to escape the trappings of crime and poverty. IT was entirely possible that the boy was dead by now – more and more of the poor were dying as a result of the guild wars. Or perhaps the boy made a life for himself in the north – after all, Athkatla was not the easiest place to live for some people. He wondered if the boy ever thought of him, remembered him or if he was just another nameless face among many. He wondered if the boy looked back and thought his freedom was worth his innocence.

Somewhere within the tunnels, stone grated against stone. Keldorn froze. Was it some cruel trick of his imagination? He stood, listening, not breathing, not moving. Several moments passed and he heard nothing but the dripping of water and the slow gurgle of sewage. He almost laughed at his foolishness when he heard it – footsteps, soft, but most definitely real. And then they too stop. Suddenly Keldorn sensed someone behind him.

“You’re new down here… a customer perhaps?”

Relief flooded Keldorn – the voice was too low, too formal. He spun around to confront the stranger, and his relief instantly dissipated. Silently he admonished his stupidity – he had been expecting the voice of a boy twenty years later.

There was no doubt in Keldorn’s mind that this was the very same man. He was much taller, almost as tall as Keldorn… his skin was paler… more tempting almost, and the hair was shorter, the clothes cleaner – but the eyes, the continence were all perfectly preserved from twenty years hence.

“You never left…” Somehow the words escaped him, a thought he did not even remember processing. How cruelly ironic that he should now be confronted with the modern realities of his memories. How strange that the boy had remained, here in this dank, dark place, almost as if he was waiting for him to return.

The boy, however, did not recognize Keldorn as easily as the Inquisitor had recognized him. Brief confusion and slight fear contorted those oh so familiar features – features that still on occasion haunted his dreams with all the other boys he had lusted after, accompanied by another nameless young man who had accepted him into his embrace. Most Knights were tormented by dreams of lost battles or the deaths of loved ones – Keldorn was haunted by men and boys at night, occasionally haunted by his fellow Knights, even. While the pain of their nightmares was undoubtedly greater, the fear coned ned within his surpassed them all.

“I’m sorry, me is thinking I don-” the man began to reply, but as Keldorn stepped into the light he stopped and squinted at him in disbelief for several moments.

“You’re that paladin… the one from so… so long ago. How long has it been?”

“A few years short of twenty,” Keldorn replied, marveled by his own level-headedness. In his dreams the boy had always incited so much fear, so much emotion… but here in the sewers the entire episode was so uncanny it was almost dreamlike. He could almost convince himself that none of it was really happening.

“How strange, to me it seems almost like yesterday…” the man replied in a still disbelieving tone of voice.

“Have you lived down in these sewers always?”

“I live down here when I need to, yes. The guards you see…” the man made a frustrated gesture, “- never really leave me alone, even though I’m not really doin anything all that un-legal…e doe done well for myself though, really. Soon I’m planning on buying a nice home and maybe settling down,” the man told him, his manner strangely almost reminiscent of a boy trying to impress his father. Keldorn suddenly felt quite ill.

“The sewers are becoming dangerous.”

“Ah, ya mean those blind men running about? Eh, they stay to their part of the sewers, me stay to mine. Only thing that gives me any trouble is that damned sea troll that runs around down here.”

“I’m her inv investigate these ‘blind men’ as you call them. Their cult has caused concern among several of the temples,” Keldorn volunteered the information almost automatically, desperate to excuse his return to the sewers, to this boy… man.

The man stepped closer, as if wanting to be sure of Keldorn’s identity before continuing. In the light of the nearby torch he looked even more like he had all those long years ago. The resemblance awakened Keldorn’s panic, and he realized with moretaintainty than ever that this indeed was the boy he had chased into the sewers.

“You never did tell me you name… and I always did wonder-”

“You don’t need my name, boy!”

“I ‘aven’t been a boy for a very long time.”

“Not long enough.”

A resounding silence feel for many moments, during which time the space between them seemed to grow smaller, the stench of the sewage and the gushing of the water more intimate.

“I… well, they calls me Roger the Fence, if you wanted to know. Considering what happen, me figured you might.”

Keldorn closed his eyes momentarily in defeat. It was one thing to encounter one whom you had… indecent relations with in the past, and entirely another to converse on said relations. It was also quite another thing to put a name to an anonymous boy who had haunted you for years.

“Did… that sort of thing occur often for you?”

Roger the Fence seemed to have to give the question some thought “W “Well no, not often… it wasn’t me first time, nor the last… most of my acquaintances at the time had to go through that more, generally… but seeing as how the Order were often the ones a huntin me, and that… disposition isn’t all that common among the Knights..”

Keldorn felt an odd mix of relief that the boy had not been truly innocent when he had sullied him and perplexity that someone else would suffer from such a “dsitisition”.

At his silence, the boy continued.

“E sai said it was uncommon, didn’t say you’re commitin a crime or nothing.. . fact is, I pretty much turned out with that disposition myself.”

“You desire boys?”

“I like men actually. Older men.”

Before Keldorn knew what was happening, the boy’s hand – so soft, so gentle and yet alluring was tenderly cupping his cheek.

“Me thinks it a strange thing… I’ve had meself many a man back then, but you’s was the first one I really wanted… I had hoped, hoped so much that you’d come back to my rooms with me, but I guess I must of scared you aways… always regretted that, nevern knn knew your name.”

Keldorn was frozen, much in the way that he had been frozen twenty years ago, staring into that boy’s dark eyes – now staring into the man’s. He couldn’t refuse, couldn’t speak, could barely even breathe.

“I.. supposen its not too late – you’re here now, and so am I… and honestly, you’re more finer than ever… my rooms are right this way and-”

“No,” Keldorn finally managed to croak, taking a panicked step back, “…no, no not again.”

“Alright then. Just an offer… looks like me scared you off again,” the man said, taking a step back of his own.


Keldorn swallowed his fear and tried to think of something appropriate to say, but soon came to the conclusion that silence was most appropriate at that point. Wordlessly he turned his back on the man and began to head back into the depths of the sewers.

“Eh, you just can’t leave like that! Please… just tell me your name.”

“My name?” Keldorn spun around, “What business would you have with my name?”

“It isn’t like I’m gonna report ya or anything – I kept your secret for twenty years! I knew your face… couldna ever forget that face of yours… I could have reported you, but why would I? I just needs… a name for the face. Please.”

Keldorn turned back around, moved by how much of his own sentiment was reflected in the boy’s words.

“Keldorn. Keldorn Firecam.”

“I guess… guess it wouldan ever have worked out… you’re too good a man, and ya need a good man. I couldn ever be a good man at all.”

Keldorn stood and listened to the soft, departing footsteps, before making his way as far away from the man and from himself as possible. Roger… how odd and unfitting a name… would perhaps only ever be an enigma to him. He could resist the man, quite easily too – the man’s admission of his ‘disposition’ horrified Keldorn, as did the rather unexpected emotional sentiment with which the boy seemed to have regarded him for the last twenty years. He wondered what his Maria would say to all of this, to this foul trick of fate that had befallen him. He wished more than anything to be at home with her, beside her, but his orders were to remain in this godsforsaken place until further reinforcements could arrive. And no matter how his heart protested, his duty was first to the Order, and second to himself.



End.


A/N: Is Keldorn a troubled pedophile or a repressed homosexual who just happens to like his men YOUNG??? All shall be revealed in time!