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"All my life," I started, "I have known I'd be a priest. I can't remember a day when that wasn't hanging over my head. I was the seventh child of the Baron of Temptation. I would become a priest - and not just any priest. I'd be a Priest of the Word for this temple. There were no other options, because that was what the Ranndor tithe always became."
"But not you," Anver realized, making his way over to lean beside me.
Then he slid down to sit on the floor. On impulse, I bent my knees and did the same. The rustle of my shirt against the marble was coarse. The stone under my ass was cold, but we were on the wrong side for the wind to be a problem. The slowly sinking sun was bright enough to warm us just enough, so I chose to keep going.
"When I was pulled from my classes because of my father's health, I decided to leave the temple. I was his tithe, and if he was dead, there was no longer any need for me to be a priest. I didn't love what I was doing. I didn't even care about the gods, Anver. All I knew was that I was looking at a lifetime of being locked in a library, researching crap I couldn't give a shit about. My brother could worry about his own tithe. My lace would fade, and I'd get to have my own life."
"Then you met Nari," Anver said softly.
I nodded. "Yeah. There she was, sitting in that inn with two drunks trying to convince her to spend all her money on their drinks. She looked a little nervous, and I thought it was because of the men, so I chased them off, but when I flirted, she flirted back. She had to be married, or at least engaged. Her clothes were for traveling, so I assumed a pilgrimage. In my head, I made up her entire life story, assuming that my own limited experience was enough for me to know every single thing about her - but she kept surprising me."
"She does that," he agreed. "She seems so very fragile, but she's not. That's why I got scared off. I couldn't figure out why she would need me."
"Mm," I murmured, seeing his point. "Yeah, well, I figured out that she's tough, but she isn't invincible. I also figured out that she wants so badly to prove that she's unstoppable that she'll put herself in danger. She invited me back to my room, you know, and I spent my night in the Choosing Room wondering what would've happened to her if she'd picked one of those first two men. And when we had sex?" I smiled at the memory of that. "I decided that I could be a Priest of the Body. I liked how it felt to take care of this woman like that."
"Take care of," Anver repeated, nodding in understanding.
"So in my Choosing, that's what I asked Zeal for. I didn't wait like most do. I wanted to know, because if I couldn't accept my Path, I'd leave again. I walked right into the tears, watched the lace on my arms grow a little more, and I was terrified that I'd gotten Obligation. When I climbed back out, I turned and twisted until I saw the dark marks. About halfway through the first candle, I started praying, asking Zeal why - and he answered."
"He spoke to me when I was in the tears," Anver admitted.
"I'm not sure he intended to talk to me," I explained. "I got the impression that he had to because he knew I would leave. I didn't want some idiot ward. I was willing to meet them, but if they weren't perfect, then I was gone. I was the son of the baron, after all, not some bodyguard!" I laughed at my foolishness back then. "Then I was introduced to the woman I'd spent the night with. I realized she wasn't alone, and her partner was more dangerous than his guardian. I dared to dream that I might be able to be just me..." I paused to bob my head. "But I've never learned who that is."
Anver leaned closer, resting his head on the edge of my shoulder. "Why not?"
"Because we had to be perfect. We had to be polite, proper examples of nobility at all times. Our instructor wasn't like Saval. He made a point of calling me out, saying I was shaming the baron because I was a tithe to a god. He told me I should make more of an effort, and never let me forget where I came from. I felt like my name was a chain that held me back - right up until I could use it to push the High Priest down a little. That was when I figured it out, Anver."
"Figured what out?"
"That I want to protect her. Them. Us! I am a guardian." I tilted my head to press against the top of his. "The problem is that I'm nothing more than a guard dog on a chain. I can bark loudly, but I can never reach that point where I can do anything about it."
"What chain?" he asked. "Talin, what's holding you back?"
"I am," I admitted. "A lifetime of being a gentleman, of knowing my place, and of remembering that I represent the Ranndor name. I fuckinggave upmy name! I am Nari's guardian. How am I supposed to protect a god's Chosen if I'm more likely to pose and posture than draw my blade?!"
Anver shifted to claim my hand. "But you want to," he said. "I can hear it in your voice. I can see it every time someone looks at her. You want to tear them apart the way Ela does, but with your sword instead of your body."
"I do," I admitted. "I also want to love them the way you do. I want to close my eyes and stop caring. I want to let go and see what it's like to be free. I just can't."
"You can," he promised. "Oh, I'm not saying it'll be easy, but I'll help." He looked up at me. "This is how I protect, Talin. I hold you up when you stumble. I'll be the buffer when you screw up. I will also be right beside you every time you need me."
I just leaned my head back, turning my face towards the sky, and let that sink in. It felt big. It felt like my eyes were stinging with relief, and I had to blink before that became tears. I couldn't even explain why this mattered so much to me, but Anver just understood and offered to help without holding back.
"We're a mess, huh?" I asked, trying to laugh and barely managing a huff.
"We're growing up," he pointed out.
"Anver, we're men." I had to work to make sure that didn't sound condescending. "We stopped being boys when we were still in primary. We're all grown up and still trying to figure it the fuck out, and most of the time I feel like I'm failing."
"No," he insisted. "We're growing up, Talin. Maybe in your world, girls are sold off as soon as they can carry a child and boys are sent to a whore to make a 'man out of them.' Maybe the responsibilities are piled onto your shoulders early so someone else can get rid of that burden. Maybe they dress you up nice and expect you to act like a puppet, but that isn't the same as growing up."
"Then what do you mean?" I asked, honestly curious. "What counts, and when do we stop?"
"We never stop," he said, sounding like he'd just realized that too. "It's not about reaching the end so much as the journey to get there. Talin, that's what Zeal has been trying to tell me. It's becoming. It doesn't matterwhatwe become, so long as we're happy with the person that is."
"I'm not sure I am," I admitted.
His thumb swept across the side of my hand where he still held it. "I like this man," he told me. "Nari loves him. So does Ela. Wraythe respects him, and that's not something he does easily. If this is your flawed version of yourself, then you're still doing pretty good."
