That evening, as the camp quieted and the usual sounds of training gave way to the soft rustling of the evening breeze, Vaelorian waited for Riven in their room. Riven arrived after a while, glowing from a productive round of sparring. He dropped his gear and went straight to Vaelorian, pulling him into a deep kiss.
"I was fantastic today," Riven declared, full of pride. "I used the net principle in three different scenarios. Eldrin even gave me a passing grade! You can reduce my hours of analysis training now, I've got a handle on things."
Vaelorian returned the kiss, a genuine smile touching his lips. "I'm proud of you, my love. I knew you could do it." He replied holding Riven at arm's length, before expression became serious. "But about that analysis class...and everything else."
Riven's excitement dimmed. "What is it?"
Vaelorian led him to the bed and sat down, holding the Emperor's sealed letter in his hand.
"I received this, this afternoon," Vaelorian said, tapping the letter. "It's from my father." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I have been summoned to the Imperial Palace. I need to leave the camp first thing tomorrow morning."
Riven's face immediately fell. The sudden demand for Vaelorian's presence—his familiar stability, was a shock.
"The Palace? Why? For how long?"
"My father cited security and logistics for the border talks. He is vague, as usual. It means I will be gone for at least a few days, perhaps longer, depending on the situation." Vaelorian squeezed Riven's hand gently. "I don't like it. But I can't refuse a direct Imperial summons."
He's leaving, again? But they just got back from a mission. Why is he leaving just when things were getting good, when Riven was finally feeling at home again? The imperial Palace means distance, formalities, and possible danger—the kind of danger a sword can't stop because he won't be there. He's going back to his real life, the one that doesn't include Riven. He doesn't want to admit but he hates their royal politics. He just got him back, and now he's leaving again. The camp is going to feel empty when he's not here.
"No," Riven said, the single word sharp with disappointment. "No, you just got me back from my extra drills, and I've been good all day. You can't just leave."
"I know," Vaelorian said softly. "But this is not a choice, my love. It is my duty." He watched Riven's turbulent expression, knowing exactly how much this is going to affect him. "I need you to stay here. Be the warrior I know you can be in my absence. Continue your training. And for once, stick to the schedule until I get back, please. Can you do that for me?"
Riven felt the familiar, cold knot of anger and frustration tighten in his chest. His first impulse, the pure Riven impulse, was to rail against the injustice, to forbid Vaelorian from leaving. But he'd had a long day of learning to control those impulses, and he saw the futility of arguing against the Emperor's decree. He couldn't stop the trip, but he could get something out of it.
He carefully took a deep breath, masking the genuine alarm with a quiet intensity. He released Vaelorian's hand and stood, walking a few short paces before turning back, his eyes locked on his lover's.
"Fine! I won't tell you to refuse the summons," Riven said, his voice surprisingly steady. "I understand that it's your duty, and I know your father's word is law. But if you have to go, I get to choose the repayment for this inconvenience."
Vaelorian watched him, sensing the shift from emotional reaction to calculated demand.
"A repayment? Sounds reasonable. Name it."
"When you get back," Riven continued, closing the distance between them again, "when you are finished with your royal politics and whatever...I want you to come with me to my place."
Riven needs to make sure that this thing between them, isn't just some temporary camp fling. The Palace is Vaelorian's world, but he wants him to step into...well, his world now. Riven always avoids talking about his home, his family, his life because he's never been there. This is his chance to kill two birds with one stone. If the older boy agrees, it means what they have is real and Vaelorian really cares about him.
"I'm saying come home with me," Riven clarified, resting his hands on Vaelorian's shoulders. "I want you to spend two days there with me. Just us. Away from the camp, away from your royal duties. I want to show you where Riven is from, before the camp."
Vaelorian looked genuinely surprised. He'd expected a request for a favor at the camp—reduced drills, perhaps, or a private evening of relaxation. This was different; it was an invitation into Riven's life, a deep step into their shared future that Vaelorian, in his mind, had always wanted. But he didn't think Riven would bring it up this way.
He ran a thumb over Riven's cheek, his expression softening with affection. "This sounds like an important request, Riven. But it involves leaving the protection of Imperial guards, and it means breaking some serious protocols. I'll need a bit more time to..."
"I don't want an official trip." Riven cut him off. "I just want you and me. This trip will be your assurance to me, Vaelorian," Riven insisted. "An assurance that you would have my back no matter what. It's a promise that what we have, what we are is more than just a camp fling. I was good today; I have been good. I did everything you asked. Now, it's your turn to prove yourself to me."
Vaelorian held his gaze for a long moment, seeing the vulnerability and the deep need for reassurance behind the demand. He saw the strategic genius in the timing—Riven was securing their relationship because he thinks Vaelorian is not serious about them. Oh, how wrong he is.
"Done," Vaelorian agreed with a gentle smile. He reached up and enclosed Riven's hands in his own. "I promise. The moment I return from my father's summons, I will make the arrangements, and we will leave this place for two days. You will show me everything about you, my love."
Riven exhaled, the tension finally leaving his body. The fear of Vaelorian's departure hadn't vanished, but the certainty of his return, and the promise of a shared journey, eased the pain.
"Now," Riven said, letting the Prince's hand go, "tell me something. Why is your father suddenly calling you in like this? Is it truly just about border logistics?"
Vaelorian shook his head. "Probably not. My father rarely concerns himself with mere border logistics. It's a political chess game, and I am the piece he needs on the board right now. But I will be cautious, okay? I have you to return to." He pulled Riven close, holding him tightly as the camp settled into the night.