Unconditionally Conditional

The reign of the Monarchy had come to an explosive end.

The Queen and her Royal Council were presumed dead from the explosion that had destroyed the Palace, their weapons and technologies being erased with them. Those who survived were left to adapt back to the more primitive society outside the walls of that former 'paradise', newly freed slaves leaving the area in droves to seek out new fortunes in other parts of the realm. Some of the masters tried to rally together in order to get their power secured, but the vigilante government of the Resistance crushed those attempts swiftly underfoot.

With the structure of government gone so quickly, it became chaotic the first few months, as people tried to settle into a world that operated without the shadow of that corrupted rulership. But these were people who had learned how to adapt, so they adapted to these changes as well, as the realm eventually settled into a structure of assorted democracies which the Resistance helped them to set up.

At night, Cain always dreamed about the time he had spent with Ambrose. The memories of their passion haunted him. Cain found himself longing to touch the man again, just to feel him one last time. He remembered the last look that Ambrose had given him before the Medic had left that final time, those brown eyes full of warmth and love. That gaze tormented him when he was awake, leaving him feeling empty.

Cain didn't expect that he would ever find that again.

He watched the world getting better, but could not find it in his heart to enjoy it. Cain traveled from town to town, along with other Resistance Fighters, doing what he could to help the people get adjusted to their new lives. There was talk going through the ranks that they were going to have to find some central leader soon, or the assorted governments would not adhere well. Many had suggested that one of the generals of the Resistance might take over, since their efforts over the years had helped to free the realm from the Monarchy's rule.

Him and a few other Fighters traveled to one of the main camps of the Resistance. A few of the generals were said to be gathered there, and Cain had been specifically requested once it got back to them that the man had managed to survive and escape the Palace intact. Cain had no enthusiasm in hearing their praise. They had cost him something precious, which promotion or reward could not replace.

He grudgingly dismounted from his horse, tipping his hat to the other Fighters who were stationed around the camp. "I'm here to see the Generals."

One of the men pointed his attention to a large tent in the center of the camp. "They're waiting for you inside."

Cain nodded his gratitude, duster swishing around his calves as he approached the tent. A soldier pulled back one of the flaps for him so that Cain could step inside.

"Ah, this must be Fighter Wyatt Cain." A man stood up from the table as soon as the blond entered, extending a hand to him. He was an older gentleman, seasoned by battle, his hands rough when Cain clasped it politely. "We have been looking forward to your visit. I am General Lonot of the Western Resistance Division."

"An honor, Sir." Cain murmured. He had heard stories of this man's feats. Lonot had an impressive reputation.

Another man, the other general, reached to shake Cain's hand, which the blond clasped half-heartedly. He really wasn't feeling up to this. Cain frowned absently, then blinked as he heard a familiar creak while he politely shook the hand clasped in his. Looking down, Cain found himself gazing at a black leather glove.

The blond looked swiftly up to the other man standing in front of him, eyes wide.

Brown eyes were faintly amused as they looked up at the blond, a small smile on that pale face as the other man murmured, "General Ambrose of the Northern Resistance Division. You should at least pretend to be happier to see your superior officers, Wyatt Cain."

~~~~~~~~~

General Lonot took his leave from them shortly after nightfall, exiting the tent after bidding Ambrose and Cain a warm farewell. Ambrose watched the other man depart, a faint smile having been present throughout the entire exchange, undoubtedly due to the shock which Cain had been handicapped by, stammering through most of their conversation.

Ambrose reached for the tie of the tent's flaps, securing it into a knot. It gave Cain some time to shift the track of his thoughts from the conversation with Lonot to remembering the fact that this man in front of him was supposed to be dead. Turning back to where the blond stood, Ambrose arched an eyebrow. "Would you like something to drink, Fighter Cain? I'm afraid the selection isn't much in our present circumstances, but the wine is rather nice."

The man moved around the room with that familiar grace, Cain amazed to see him wearing dark casual clothes instead of the leather Medic uniform. He watched in silence as Ambrose filled a glass with wine from a table nearby, before the man turned to hold it towards Cain.

Taking it, Cain downed the entire glass in a few swallows. Ambrose was staring at him intently while he did so. Then the blond tossed the emptied cup to the side and reached for the smaller man, who came into his arms as their mouths collided in a kiss. It was better than Cain had remembered over these past few months when he thought that he might never experience it except in memory. His heart was instantly full in his chest, close to exploding with the sudden swell of emotion.

He forced his mouth away, blue eyes speaking volumes down into brown. "I thought you were dead."

"You didn't trust me like you should have, then." Ambrose murmured, smiling wryly. "I'm not the kind of man to break a promise."

Cain tried to think of what else to say. His mind was full of so many questions! He could only truly focus on the reality of Ambrose in his arms. Finally, he managed, "You never told me that you were a general."

"You never asked my rank." Ambrose teased. "Someone really needs to train you better on how military protocol works, Fighter Cain."

The blond smirked. He slid his hands down Ambrose's arms, until they were able to lock around the man's wrists. With Ambrose's warm gaze fixed on his face, Cain slowly began to peel off those leather gloves, whispering, "Permission to speak freely, General Ambrose?"

"Only if you aren't about to say something stupid." The man answered with a spreading grin.

Cain chuckled, before pulling those bared hands up towards his mouth, those gloves having been dropped to the floor. He kissed Ambrose's fingers, rubbing them against the lower half of his face, as he murmured, "I love you. Since you didn't give me the chance to say it before."

Ambrose nodded slowly, solemn but loving. "That was wicked of me. How will I ever make it up to you, Wyatt?"

Their eyes locked again, as both of them smiled at each other. Cain then drew Ambrose back into his arms, mouth reaching for his lover's, as a few ideas were inspired in his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

"So, what happens from here?" Cain asked, while they sat outside the next night after dinner was wrapped up in the camp. It was cold out, but Ambrose insisted on lingering there, stretched out on the grass. When Cain had tried to coax him into the warmth of the tent, the man had told him that he'd gone for over a decade without seeing stars through the lights of the Palace. They lay out there for well over an hour just gazing up at the sky, Ambrose's face shining with contentment.

"Well, now that I'm free to return to actively fulfilling my duties as General, I suppose I'll need to get myself re-acclimated to how this all works again. Not that I haven't been working extremely hard these past years for the movement." Ambrose said, shifting his hands underneath his head to cradle it. "I'll probably be leaving here for the Northern Division camp in a day or so."

Pushing up onto his elbows, Cain gazed down at the other man. "Where does that leave me?"

"I'd say that leaves you ... heading North?" Ambrose shifted his eyes from the sky to Cain's face, hopeful. "If you want to, that is. After everything you've been through, no one would blame you if you wanted to resign."

Cain scoffed. "Of course I want to go with you. For being such a smart guy, that was a pretty stupid thing to say."

"You must be rubbing off on me." The man teased, before rolling over to drape himself upon Cain where the man lay. He kissed the blond quickly on the mouth, then jumped up to his feet in one fluid movement. Ambrose offered his hand down to the man. "Come on. I've had enough star-gazing for tonight. Let's turn in."

Taking that hand, Cain used it to pull himself up to his feet. They stood together, lingering for a few seconds in that closeness, before Ambrose led the way back inside the tent, with thoughts of sleep far from their minds.