| Title: Doubt Series: Chosen Author: Brenda Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Karl Urban Rating: PG Summary: Some things fade with age. Some things don't. Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And I doubt Harry & Karl were ever a couple. But, you never know. Notes: Birthday gift for Jo -- thanks for creating and sharing this universe with me. :) Thanks to Jen for the beta.
"Sire?" Karl held up a finger and continued to scribble on his parchment. For a few moments, the only sound was that of the quill scratching along the sheet. The young serf cleared his throat, tried again. "Sire?" Karl sighed and glanced up. "Yes, what is it –" Robert? William? No that wasn't it "– what is it, Thomas?" The boy flushed at the use of his name, but stood ramrod straight. "Cook's looking for Sir Harry, Sire." "So why are you in my solar?" Karl asked, glancing around the sparsely furnished room. "Clearly, he's not here." "No, S-sire," the boy stammered. "That's just it. He's not anywhere." "Who?" "Sir Harry." Karl nodded distractedly. "Perhaps he took one of the horses out." "In this weather, Sire?" Thunder boomed a moment later, as if to emphasize the serf's words. Karl glanced out the narrow openings in the stone walls and was surprised to see it was raining. Although storming would be more appropriate. "Definitely not riding," Karl murmured. "No, Sire. None of the horses are gone." "And I take it you've checked the armory." "Yes, Sire." "And the knights' quarters?" "Of course." "The library?" "Begging your pardon, Sire, but we've checked everywhere." Thomas shrugged helplessly. "He's nowhere to be found." "How odd," Karl murmured. Harry was almost fanatically devoted to his duties as both Captain of Karl's men and castellan of the demesne. //Puppy, where are you?// Silence. //Harry?// Karl tied not to let his impatience show. He had a thousand things he needed to see to this night. Chasing after his errant lover was not supposed to be among them. Still no answer. "Sire?" Karl glanced up again. Thomas was still standing there, worrying the brim of his cap between fingers stained black from work. "What should I tell Cook?" Karl set down the quill and stood, chair scraping across the floor. "Tell Cook I'll find Harry personally and send him down," he said, and grabbed his cloak from the peg by the door. //This had better be good.// Karl suppressed his worry when, once again, there was no answer. * * * Twenty minutes later, Karl was growing frantic. He'd retraced every step the others had taken, searched the grounds, the demesne, the stables, all to no avail. The rain continued to fall in heavy, dark sheets, making sight impossible, so Karl relied on his other senses to guide him. Still nothing. Karl pulled his cloak tighter around him, brushed a wet tangle of hair from his face. He was worried, soaked to the bone, and running out of places to look. //Harry, please.// Not sure why he was still pleading. Harry had yet to answer any of his previous queries. //Please at least tell me you're alright.// Karl held his breath and waited for an answer. Harry was still alive, that much he knew. //Please./// Another moment of silence, then – //Parapet, south wall.// Karl couldn't contain his sigh of relief. //On my way.// He took the stone stairs two at a time, didn't feel the rain or the cold anymore. "Harry?" "Over here," came the low reply. Karl could barely make out a huddled shape, wrapped in a drenched cloak, sitting back against the wall. He dropped next to Harry, glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Lot of people worried about you," he said, mildly. Tried not to cling and reassure himself that Harry was indeed alright. "Do you know what today is?" Harry asked, giving no indication that he'd even heard Karl's words. He lifted his head, hair plastered to his scalp and forehead, and Karl saw that normally bright golden eyes held none of their usual passion or warmth. Karl's first instinct was to gather Harry in his arms, offer comfort, but for the first time in a long while, he was unsure of his reception. "No, I don't," he replied, and kept his arms to his sides. "It's my father's birthday." "Ah." And Karl thought that maybe he did understand. "I remember him well," he said, thinking of a laughing, large man with gentle, callused hands who'd helped teach Karl to be a leader and offered his only son in service. "He was a good man." "Yes, he was." Harry swallowed, lifted a shaking, wet hand to his face. Water dripped from wrist to elbow, puddled around them, and the rain continued to fall, soaking them, their cloaks, the stones. "But I can no longer remember his face. Or those of my mother, my sister. My family." "You carry your love for them," Karl replied gently. "That's the important thing." He still wanted, so badly, to hold Harry. Still wasn't sure Harry would welcome it. "Some days I'm not sure." Harry's hand dropped to his side, fingers brushing Karl's. "Is it worth it? Is this life worth it?" And Karl heard the unspoken question: Was what they had worth it? Had Karl been worth giving up his life and family? "Only you can answer that," he said, closed his fingers over Harry's. "I can't bring them back for you, although I would if I could." "I know." Harry's smile was tremulous. "I've never doubted you. Or the love you bear for me." "Just yourself," Karl finished. He slicked strands of drenched hair back from his face, tried desperately to find the words that would ease some of Harry's suffering. He looked out over the parapets at the storm, still raging above them, around them, drenching his skin, seeping into his very bones until he felt part sea creature. But he didn't move. Out here, they were as completely alone as they could ever be in the demesne. "Details will fade over time," Karl finally said, kept his voice low. "The curve of a smile, the color of a dress, the exact time or place a thing took place. That's part of age." "Except we don't." Harry squeezed gently on Karl's fingers. "I am as I was when you first gave me the Gift." "Physically, yes. But you have aged. Grown. Changed, and not just as a vampire. That's normal." Karl paused, struggled again for the words. "As long as you honor your memories, your upbringing, those who have touched you in some way...they won't fade. Not truly." Harry laid his head on Karl's' shoulder, scooted close enough so that their thighs rested comfortably alongside each other. "Sometimes – but not often, mind – you manage to make sense." Karl laugh was bright, carried with it a hint of relief. "I know," he replied. He placed a soft kiss to Harry's hair, tasted the rain. "I love you, puppy. For all eternity, and that will never fade. No matter how much time passes." "I know." Harry turned his head, placed a damp, warm kiss to Karl's neck. "Cara chi. As long as I have you..." "You will always have me." A vow freely given, meant with every fiber of Karl's being. "Ready to go inside and dry ourselves by the fire?" "I think so." Harry stood, held out a hand and pulled Karl up into his embrace. Their lips met in a simple, soft caress, each giving and receiving comfort from the other. Another promise. "Feel better?" Karl asked, searching Harry's eyes. "Some." Harry smiled again and, this time, Karl felt the warmth. "Come. Let's go inside."
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