Author's Note: I'm not quite sure why I wrote this. I was reading this book about Deryni (I think they're like magicians or something) and I couldn't get passed the idea that I thought the Prince should be with this Alaric Morgan fellow. XD I don't write slash, so this is a little...awkward for me. I apologize. Please don't flame. They just seemed so...good for each other.
"Morgan, you're back!"
Alaric Morgan, weary traveler and protective knight, advanced towards the throne. He kneeled and bowed his head subjectively before the young man on the uplifted pedestal. "Your Highness." Morgan lifted his eyes, studying his prince for any signs of pain and anguish.
Formalities over, Prince Kelson grinned and gracefully hastened to his friend's side.
"We had not hoped you back so soon, Morgan. How fares thee?"
"The same to you, my Prince. How goes you?" Morgan tentatively touched Kelson's shoulder.
"I am well." The Prince smiled; a smile that did not touch his eyes in the least.
"My Prince, I know-" Morgan started.
"How careless of me! You must be famished, Morgan. Can I get you anything? Food? Water, perhaps?" Kelson turned from Morgan to ring a bell at the throne's side. He beckoned a servant toward him, and in hushed tones, instructed the man to gather the finest morsels of food from the kitchen. And to hasten.
"My Prince-" Morgan tried again.
"Really, what else do you want, Morgan, my friend?"
Morgan stepped toward the Prince. "Look at me," he ordered.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, Kelson replied, "I-I can't."
The Prince's small frail frame wracked with shivers as he struggled to control his emotions. Being in Morgan's very presence made his façade crumble to pieces.
"You can't know. How could you? You've been gone for so long…" he mumbled to himself.
"Kelson, look at me!"
Slowly, the Prince turned, facing his long time friend and advisor. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, which flamed red in shame.
"I know, Kelson. I found out this morning."
Kelson would not look up into Morgan's face.
"I know the King is dead."
This provoked a response most unheard of. Kelson flung himself into Morgan's chest, burying his face in clothes dusty from travel and clutching folds of cloth in his trembling hands.
Surprised, yet unflustered at the amount of emotion his young Prince displayed before him, Morgan rose a hand to shut the door with his deryni powers. He wrapped his arms lovingly around the boy's frame.
"It's alright, Kelson. Don't cry." Morgan brushed away the hair that fell into Kelson's beautiful- even more so with tears spilling down- face.
"A heart attack, they said," Kelson mumbled into Morgan's shirt.
"What was that?"
The Prince rose his gaze, his eyes penetratingly deep with sorrow. "It wasn't a heart attack that killed my father. I know it wasn't! It couldn't have been! He was too healthy, you know as well as I that he was. And I felt-"
"Go on," Morgan murmured.
"I felt magic, Morgan," Kelson confessed.
Morgan's face grew grave. "Who knows of this?"
"Naught but you."
Glancing around at the deepening shadows in his Prince's quarters, Morgan replied, "Let's keep it that way."
Somehow his gaze collided with that of his beautiful Prince once again. Disconcertingly, Morgan realized he was still holding Kelson rather closely, too close for propriety's sake. Morgan's arms dropped from around the boy.
"I'm sorry," he muttered.
Kelson pressed himself closer to Morgan. "Just a few more minutes, please, Alaric," he begged. "And then I can face the world again."
Swallowing uneasily, Morgan consented, allowing his arms to wrap around Kelson's thin waist. Sighing, suddenly weary from travel, Morgan rested his head on soft blonde hair.