January 20, 3043

Tomorrow we go. Nicholas has packed all the food, and Danny gave me some long list of supplies÷trust a consummate organizer like him to have something like this at his fingertips. Good thing I have all this extradimensional space! I think I won't bother much with my magic items÷have decided to pack everything except my ring and scarf. I just feel like leaving everything behind me, trying to get some sort of fresh look at things. Maybe if I leave most of "me" behind, things will be easier.

Nicholas vacillates between looking worried and looking smug÷he thinks I haven't seen him eyeing me, but I have. I wonder what he's thinking. I know he thinks I should take this opportunity to talk openly with Danny, but I honestly can't imagine how I'd start. Sometimes it's as though something else has taken control; I find myself stopping, completely unable to make a sound. It takes a physical act of will just to start talking again. I doubt I'll have any more success talking to Danny than I had talking to Nicholas; and Danny would never press the way Nicholas did.

On the other hand, if I don't do something, I'll probably never have another chance. I can't procrastinate forever, or else someone else÷someone like Laurie÷will step in, and win what I was too frightened to attempt.

January 24, late

Insomnia strikes, so I might as well update this. It's late, and Danny's asleep in the tent, so I've moved out here along the beach to write by lanternlight without bothering him.

He's got an itinerary that will take us along to four villages here along the coast, two with what he calls good "bed and breakfast" inns and two that we'll probably just camp outside of. It's winter now, so nobody's travelling mcuh, or even fishing, although Danny says he did check with some druids and chose this time because we wouldn't be likely to run into any storms. Hard to think of it being winter here, after the chill of Dorakka, but it's been a little wetter than usual, and a little cooler, as well, especially along the coast here.

We're sharing a two-man tent, which is a little warmer than two single-person tents, but at the same time it's harder on my nerves÷which is why I'm up tonight. Hard to feel him so close, hear him breathing, and not want to reach out to touch him; just to reassure myself that he's really there. I don't dare, of course÷he's too much the soldier not to wake up at a touch, and then how would I explain, that I just wanted to feel how warm his skin was, run a finger over the sword-callouses on his palm? Ridiculous impulses. But it's better if I get up and leave rather than lie there torturing myself.

These past couple of days have been nice÷if I could just stop thinking so much, they'd probably be even better. It's been a long time since I last rode just for pleasure, and I'd forgotten how much I enjoy it÷just the horses' hooves and the crashing waves, salt on the breeze making our clothes stiff and our hair stand out at odd angles. There's hardly anyone else around, and a lot of the time we don't even talk; just don't feel the need to, I guess.

Danny's been trying to teach me how to set up camp, but I don't seem to have a knack for it÷he always has to repitch my side of the tent. So I take care of the horses, mostly, and let him deal with building fires and all that. He's tried cooking once or twice, but I have to say, that's one skill he hasn't mastered! I'm glad Nicholas packed a lot of food! Of course Danny just laughs and promises to do better next time. Nothing ever seems to deflate his cheerful optimism. That's something else I admire him for÷it's courage, of a sort, to not give up and to keep trying. I always give up too easily, I suppose. I don't want people to laugh at me. Danny, he'd just laugh along with them.

I did have him read me some of his poetry last night and tonight. He's really very talented. He should go ahead and get it published÷in Arthinon, I suppose, since it's not the kind of work most orcs would like. I'm not much of a poetry critic÷wouldn't recognize iambic pentameter if it offered me a light÷but most of what he's read to me seems very good.

It still amazes me that anyone with his history could end up writing poetry. Maybe that's how he deals with stress. Nicholas withdraws, I look to drugs, Simon goes mad ... and Danny sits down and writes a poem.

January 25, 3043, late

He said he's loved me for years.

He said someday he'd show me the sheafs of poems to prove it.

January 31, 3043

It's late and I can't sleep again, so I might as well update this÷I hadn't realized it was so behind. I guess there isn't much to write in here, really. Or too much.

I suppose I precipated things when I took his hand on the beach÷but it was early, and the morning fog was still lingering over the sand, and we'd been walking barefoot in the surf trying to push each other in÷and I just couldn't resist. I froze up as soon as I did, realizing what I'd done÷but he didn't say anything, or pull away, and we finished up our walk like that, and didn't mention it.

Except, of course, Danny isn't the kind of person to let something like that pass without comment. And he didn't; that night over dinner at the inn he pressed÷uncommonly indirectly, for him, as he tried to ask without seeming to make any assumptions (blushing as he tried). At first I didn't know what to say÷I wasn't even certain if he were trying to dissuade me or not, really. The "but" seemed to underlie everything he said. Except÷unlike my conversation with Nicholas, I couldn't÷didn't want to, didn't dare÷lie to him. And when he decided I wasn't going to answer, he tried to propose a neutrally hopeful toast, and I just couldn't bring myself to let it go at that. I had this sudden realization that if I let it go now, I'd never have a second chance. This was my second chance. So I told him it wasn't a matter of "furthering our relationship" or whatever he'd said in his toast. I told him that I had no doubts about where I stood with regard to our relationship. That I'd fallen in love with him.

And he just looked at me for a moment, as damnably cool and collected as ever, and then sighed slightly and simply said that he'd been in love with me for years.

I've always said that he plays the Game better than I do. I would never have been able to last that long, under the circumstances. Clearly wouldn't have been able to.

It's strange, really, how much things change and don't change, at the same time. Nicholas characterized real "love" as violins and birds chirping and sunlight and all that elven bardic stuff, but he's wrong. It's slower and deeper than that. Neither Danny nor I are in a hurry. We can't be, not after so many years together. We know each other too well.

But even so, even though not that much has changed on the surface, I know now, and that makes an incredible amount of difference. I don't really know how things are going to work out. Both he and I have a lot of reasons to agree to keep this discreet÷for the time being. Especially while we're both still in the army.

February 2, 3043

Two days until we return to Glenzor. I wish we had more time, because once we're back, Danny has to start thinking about getting things ready for our next mission, and I'll be back to the books. We're both taking this so cautiously, and things will slow down even more once we're with the others again. I suppose it's for the best, though. If we can't work through the strain of being on guard around others, it probably wouldn't work out, anyway.

And, to some extent, I think that Danny's doing this for me. He knows I'm not entirely comfortable with it yet, and also that I stand to lose a lot if we were discovered. I don't think he understands yet that I'm willing to lose it all, for us. I should eventually make sure he does understand that÷that I'm not willing to sneak around in the shadows my whole life. But later. That won't even be an option until we're both out of the military and this matter of differing ranks is dispensed with.

In the meantime ... every once in awhile, the last few days, I've stopped and thought to myself, "I'm content now." It's a little disturbing, now that I think about it, to realize that it's been years since I've been able to say that. Years. Literally. No wonder I was so close to killing myself.

Now I can stop when I'm sitting by the campfire at night, or riding along the sea cliffs, or even smoking off a bout of insomnia at night, and think to myself that I'm happy with where I am, what I'm doing, where I'm going, who I'm with. It's not that I don't foresee a lot of problems in the future, or imagine that there'll be hard times ahead÷but I don't regret that fact that I'm where I am.

I think it's because, for the first time, I feel secure. Like I'd spent all these years trying to keep myself upright on my own, and now for the first time I have something stable to brace myself against. And I've only just discovered that in the last few months÷that I have a true, steadfast friend in Nicholas, and someone who really loves me in Danny. Two people who won't abandon me when I'm in trouble, who I can trust to be there when everything collapses around me÷in a few months, a year, several years, whenever it happens.

My father would scoff at me, assure me that the only person you can ever trust is yourself, and the only thing that will never betray you is money÷but he's wrong. I'd rather have Nicholas and Daniel at my side than any amount of wealth in my account.

If they left me now÷but that's my father's voice, constantly pressing me to consider all my options and pick the safest one. I already know that sometimes taking a risk pays off. Trusting them has to be one of those risks. I'm tired of letting Father's paranoia run my life. The only place that's gotten me has been a hairsbreadth away from cutting my wrists.

February 4, 3042

Back again÷Nicholas' nose is in the books, although he emerged from the lab long enough to ask me how it went. And how do I answer that, anyway?