So fast, it was over so fast. At least it seemed that way to Culgan as he slumped to L'Renouille's hard stone floor. The victors stepped over him, on him, as they made their way further into the castle.

At least he'd put up a good fight, he thought ruefully. Too bad he'd exhausted his Rune already, or he and Seed would be feeling much better by now.

His companion was sprawled next to him, not moving. Culgan glanced over and saw what he most dreaded, that Seed's Rune had already coalesced, detached, and was even now forming a protective crystal around itself on the castle floor.

Dead, they only did that when their bearer died, unless a Rune Sage stripped them off. Seed's hand looked so strange without the Flame sigil, so pale, so unfamiliar.

And felt so cool.

With diminishing strength Culgan closed Seed's eyes. No life, no recognition in them. Might as well keep some dignity.

Dignity...

With sudden resolve Culgan ripped the scarf from around his neck and tied their hands together, his right and Seed's left. It was hard going with his injuries, and he had to use his teeth a couple of times, but in the end he had an unmistakably deliberate handfasting knot, a message for whoever would find them. Handfasting was sometimes still practiced in the rural areas of Highland, especially for couples who couldn't afford a lavish wedding or had to rush things.

Hell, it wasn't like he'd planned on dying today. Culgan fell back, panting; this dying business was damned uncomfortable. He needed to rest, even if it was just for a few minutes. At least he wouldn't have to file a report on this, he thought incongruously, death being the one excuse even a Highland bureaucrat couldn't ignore. He smiled a little at that.

He didn't notice exactly when his wounds stopped hurting or when he stopped feeling the cold hard floor or when his Rune grew heavy and dropped off. It happened so gradually, and it was so nice to be pain-free and warm and comfortable again that it hardly registered that he was hovering over his own body, which wasn't breathing.

No, he hardly noticed, so great was his wonder and relief at finding Seed, or rather, the essence of Seed, next to him and looking refreshingly normal. He wasn't transparent like Culgan expected a ghost (or a spirit or whatever they were now) to be.

They embraced. 'Bout time you proposed to me, old man, Seed said without words.

I couldn't have gone on without you, Culgan blurted in the not-speech that was purer and more intimate than words could ever be.

I know. There was no censure in Seed's tone, no condemnation, only love, and in the distance a shimmering gateway.

They stepped through it together.

They weren't around to see the patrol that found their bodies; couldn't tabulate the various perplexed or understanding or disapproving looks; never heard the order to bury them together; wouldn't have cared that their Runes were carefully salvaged; totally missed the elaborate military funeral; couldn't counter the whispers of a few vicious rumor-mongers; weren't articularly bothered that the world went on without them.

Blissfully unaware.

Author's notes:

Aggggh, I've seen cotton candy that was less sugary.

Written as a prelude to BL, but it can also stand on its own.

As usual, there's a play on words in the title. Did you catch it?

- silver