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m-o-o-n-thatspellsblog · 1 year

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The Drawing of the Fool- Epilogue

Summary: Years after renouncing the Dark Tower, the ka-tet of the 19, now living as a true family, comes across another door. Fearing a resurgence of Tower business, the group grows apprehensive. Roland Deschain, their Dinh--their father--grows excited. It seems renouncing the Tower in favor of love is not without reward, after all.

Word Count: 7,354

Relationships: Roland/Cuthbert, Eddie/Susannah, Jake/Benny

AO3 LINK

Lying in bed together, in the home the folken had helped them build, Roland and Cuthbert were doing nothing but resting and enjoying each other’s company. Cuthbert often joked that the best part of their relationship was that they got to skip straight to being an old married couple. Roland didn’t disagree. It was nice to be able to skip the uncertainty and settle down with someone so familiar.

“You say true,” Roland said. His heart had skipped a beat at the mention of the Tower. The days in which he had been single-mindedly determined to reach it had passed and he did his best to drive all thoughts of it from his mind. “We never went any further than Algul Siento. After that, we traveled away from the Tower. I knew at that time that if we had gotten too close, I would not have been able to stop myself. Not then.”

“What about now? A considerable amount of time has passed since your renunciation and I think you’re quite comfortable with the life you’ve built. Don’t you want to see it? Just to cast your eyes upon the edifice we dedicated so much of our lives to saving--that which nearly cost you everything?” He turned onto his side to face Roland, who was quiet for a moment.

“You never saw it,” Cuthbert said, seemingly out of the blue. Roland turned toward his love and furrowed his brow. It wasn’t rare that he was a step or two behind Cuthbert, but this comment seemed unrelated to anything they had previously been discussing. “The Tower, I mean,” he continued.

“I suppose I would like to see it,” Roland admitted, sounding guilty, as if he was confessing to a heinous crime.

“Then we should go, you and I,” Cuthbert said, wrapping an arm around Roland’s waist and pulling him closer. This was something he had been thinking of quite a lot lately and he had no idea how Roland would feel about the idea. “In separate worlds, we each gave our lives for this Tower. I think we deserve to see what we were protecting so fiercely.”

“Do you not worry that you’d be tempted to go in?”

Cuthbert shook his head. “Going inside was never a part of my plan. My goal was always to save it. And then maybe, if ka would allow, to see it. After that, I wanted to be done with it evermore. I had no such desire to go in and climb to the top. In truth, that idea always scared me.”

Roland hesitated, reluctant to voice his true fear. He rolled onto his side so they were face to face, Cuthbert’s hand still resting on his waist. When he searched his love’s face and saw nothing but sincerity, he was able to go on. “Are you not scared that I might be seduced by its charms? That I’d be just as drawn to its pull as I had been to the pink Wizard’s Glass?”

“Nay, you know better now. And nevertheless, I’ll be with you. We may not know what resides there, but we know that that knowledge comes at a high price. I’d not let you give everything up so easily. And I’m not saying that to be honorable either, I’d much like to keep you for my own selfish reasons. Who else is there to follow me around and tell me I’m pretty?”

“The Crimson King is presumably still imprisoned there,” Roland said, always so serious.

“Then we’ll take care of him,” Cuthbert said with a shrug, ever the optimist. He felt confident that they could handle it. Improvisation was their specialty. “Someone ought to. Why not us?”

“It’s an enormous risk. We have everything to lose and nothing to gain by going there.” Roland spoke firmly, but truthfully, he was warming up to the idea. It whispered to the deep romance in his nature. Was there anything more romantic than defying the odds with the one you held dear? And Roland knew there was no one better than his beloved to laugh in the face of destiny.

“We would gain closure. I expect that it would ease your mind to know that you have seen it and turned away from it. You can finally let go of the notion that one day you might just take off for the Tower and revert back to who you were. You never give voice to them, but I suspect thoughts of the Tower still cast a shadow in your mind. It’s time to reject the hold it has over you. To come face to face and stand true.”

“I trust you understand the risks,” Roland said, already knowing that Cuthbert did, in fact, understand the risks. Despite his penchant for foolishness, he was not stupid. Far from it. When it came to intelligence, Roland had always lagged behind Cuthbert.

“Aye, I understand them very well, so I do. Still I say we go.”

“The others might not like it,” Roland said. A last resort argument if there ever was one. And a weak one, at that. Roland knew he was going to give in, he was only holding out because he felt like he was supposed to. It’s been years since he had renounced the Tower in favor of his family; he shouldn’t want to go see it. But the desire which had lay dormant in the depths of his mind was now awakened.

“I think they trust us.” Cuthbert placed his hand on the side of Roland’s face and started soothingly rubbing his thumb back and forth across his cheek. Truthfully, Cuthbert was a little worried. But he trusted Roland, and he truly believed that this would put both of their minds at rest. The Tower had taken enough of their lives, he didn’t want it hanging over them for all the time they had left.

Roland went quiet again, sorting his thoughts, which had always been slow work for him. He wanted to give this proper consideration. After a moment he spoke: “Okay.”

“Okay? You mean you want to go?”

“Aye, I do. We’ll protect each other, won’t we?”

“Of course we will.” Cuthbert rolled over again, this time pulling Roland on top of him. He reached his hand around to the back of Roland’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Roland gladly complied. When they pulled away for a breath, Cuthbert spoke again. “I’ll protect you as passionately as I once fought for the Tower.”

“Mmm, say true? How passionate are we talking?”

“Let me demonstrate for you,” Cuthbert said in a low voice. He grabbed Roland by the shoulders and flipped their positions, pinning Roland to the bed.

-----------------

The next week, after some difficult goodbyes, they set out for their journey. Each carried a packsack stuffed with warm clothing and other supplies. The trip was likely to be cold and grueling, but they had what they needed to make it as safe as possible.

A few weeks in, they passed through the former Castle of the Crimson King, Le Casse Roi Russe. At one time, the Crimson King’s Minister of State with the aid of the King’s glammer, had lain in wait for Roland’s ka-tet to come along. However, once it became clear to him that Roland’s ka-tet was never coming, he fled.

Written haphazardly upon a crumbling wall of stone in old paint were these words:

BEWARE OF DANDELO

“Any idea what that means?” Cuthbert asked.

“No,” Roland said, “Mayhap we’ll find out.”

-----------------

About 5 weeks after passing through Le Casse Roi Russe, they spotted a road. From the place where it first came into view, it looked like an inverted T carved into the snow. The cross arm was only perhaps four hundred feet all the way across, but the long end carried all the way to the horizon and then disappeared over it. In addition to the road, they both noted the roofs of cottages. Smoke poured out of the roof of one of these cottages.

An hour later, they reached the point in which the two roads met. Rising out of the snow was a pole with signs at the top, seeming to indicate the names of the roads. The short road was called

ODD’s LANE

The other one, however, sent a chill down both their spines, causing them to unconsciously draw nearer to each other. It read:

TOWER ROAD

As Roland turned his attention to the cluster of cottages, Cuthbert noticed something peculiar about one of the signs--the one that indicated Odd’s Lane.

“Why does it look like the ‘S’ was added?” Cuthbert asked.

Roland shrugged and started to move away, he was more interested in starting down Tower road than reading signs. But Cuthbert stayed behind, studying the letters. After a moment, he gasped in realization.

“Roland, I got it! Get back here!”

“What is it?”

Cuthbert grasped Roland’s shoulders and held him in front of the sign. “Look at the letters. If you ignore the ‘S’, what do you notice?”

He looked. It was a riddle, and Roland, not very good at riddles under normal circumstances, was too anxious to try to figure it out. “Bert, my dear,” he said with an impatient sigh, “Will you not just tell me?”

Cuthbert relented. “It’s Dandelo! Odd Lane is made up of the same letters which make Dandelo. It seems the ‘S’ was put there to throw us off.”

Roland’s eyes widened as he saw Cuthbert was right. And to think that he would’ve just continued down the road without a second thought about the damned sign. Roland tilted his chin toward the chimney with smoke puffing out. “Do you think that’s Dandelo?

“Aye, who else?”

Before they had a chance to decide whether or not they should pass by, the decision was made for them. A rosy-cheeked old man hobbled out of the cottage and called to them.

“Looks like we’re in for some palaver whether we want it or not,” said Roland.

“Yar, it seems so,” Cuthbert replied. Then, lowering his voice: “Stay wary.”

-----------------

The old man introduced himself as Joe Collins of Odd Lane. Something about the man’s presence filled them both with a good feeling. He was vivacious for an old man, and filled with enormous good humor. The kind of person anyone can get along with. Cuthbert wondered how he could’ve thought such a man could be dangerous.

The old man took them in, and showed them around his house full of wonders. Through Susannah, Eddie, and Jake, they both had some second-hand knowledge about the technology from America-side. Roland had even seen some during their travels. But to see such simple wonders as fluorescent lights and magic ice boxes up close was fascinating. Joe Collins explained that a robot that he called Stuttering Bill helped him maintain the generator which supplied the electricity to keep the place running.

After some more talking, Joe Collins gave them a fine meal. It wasn’t until after they ate that Cuthbert started to once again become suspicious. When speaking of how he came to be here, Collins mentioned that he used to be some kind of comic entertainer in a place called the Midwest. Roland, with rather uncharacteristic cheer, asked to hear some of his jokes, as he told them on the road. Joe Collins decided to give it a try.

He stood up and gave them a taste of one of the shows he put on. As he progressed, Roland lost himself in laughter. Although Cuthbert was laughing as well, he found Roland’s wild, unbridled laughter to be a little excessive. For Cuthbert, most of the humor was in the way the man carried himself, not so much the actual jokes. In fact, the jokes were kind of lame.

It became obvious to Cuthbert that this was a trick, Roland was never that unguarded with his emotions. Most of the time he couldn’t even make Roland laugh so hard. Nay, his love had almost no sense of humor, but that was okay because he had enough for the both of them. And even he could see that this wasn’t funny. Roland, with his underdeveloped sense of humor, was just more susceptible to the trick.

Dandelo, he thought, How could I let myself forget?

Cuthbert kept laughing along with the jokes. He didn’t want to alert the creature before him to his epiphany. Now that he was conscious of it, he realized he could actually feel the good feelings being fed to him, much like the way cattle are fed nutrients before being slaughtered.

During a small lull between jokes, he excused himself to the bathroom. He needed a chance to reassess the situation. Once inside, he heard an agonized crying sound. They had noticed it a few times already, but had been too distracted to think much of it. He tried to come up with and plan and then realized he didn’t really need one. He’d just go back in and shoot the damn thing. He pulled his slingshot from his belt and left the bathroom.

When he came back, Roland was on the floor, clutching at his throat but still laughing. Cuthbert didn’t hesitate, he simply aimed and shot, as was ingrained in him since childhood.

He shot the creature--yes, creature, not man for in its dying it was now reverting to its true form--until it stopped moving.

Once that was taken care of, he kneeled down next to Roland and caressed the side of his face. “Are you alright, love?”

Roland suddenly stood up and staggered over to the door. He ripped it open, took a couple of steps, and threw up. When he came back in, he sank to his knees before Cuthbert, who was momentarily alarmed, thinking Roland might be fainting. Then the realization hit. Always such a stickler for tradition.

“No, no, not this shit again,” Cuthbert said, chuckling nervously. But he knew Roland would not relent until Cuthbert gave him pardon. He was too ashamed of his actions. Cuthbert sighed and then gave in. “Rise, gunslinger, I give you pardon in good heart.” He paused, then added: “Though it isn’t necessary, dear one. We save each other. ‘Twas a powerful glammer and there is no shame in falling victim to it.”

Roland smiled weakly, still ashamed, but nevertheless grateful for the man before him. He rose to his feet and gave his beloved a brief kiss.

“That’s how I know my love for you is true,” Cuthbert said as he pulled away. “Only a moment ago you were spewing your guts out and yet, I still want to kiss you.” Roland gave him a flat look before pushing Cuthbert off of him in exaggerated annoyance. He went to the thing lying on the floor (which now looked like some kind of large, malformed bug) to check that it was really dead. That was when the cry rose up again.

Roland and Cuthbert's eyes met and then, in the same instant, they moved toward the noise, drawing their weapons.

They went down to the cellar, and there, they found the boy they would come to know as Patrick Danville, the artist. A young man, held prisoner by Dandelo. Cuthbert, much better with vulnerable people than Roland, drew the boy out with tenderness and humor. The boy couldn’t talk (his tongue had been removed by Dandelo) but he could communicate perfectly fine with his sketchbook and a pencil. They found these items on a high shelf, along with a jar of erasers which had been removed from the pencils. Cuthbert thought this strange. Why had Patrick been prohibited from using the erasers? Was it just some extra form of torture or had there been another reason?

-----------------

They looked around Dandelo’s place for warm clothing to take for Patrick, knowing that they would need to share what they had. They packed what they could use, including a far-seeing instrument, and headed outside to see if they could find the robot that Dandelo had mentioned. It was still freezing, but thankfully no blizzard.

About an hour later, they found the robot. He had been operating a large orange vehicle, which they later learned was called a snow-plow. The plow pulled up in front of Dandelo’s hut, blasting music from a speaker at the top. He came out and introduced himself as William, D-746541-M, Maintenance Robot, Many Other Functions. Dandelo had called him Stuttering Bill, because the robot had a fried circuit somewhere inside, causing him to stutter, and Dandelo had forbidden him from fixing it. With Dandelo gone, they suggested that Bill fix his stuttering, to which he gratefully complied.

Although he resembled a certain robot that used to reside in Calla Bryn Sturgis, it soon became clear that this robot was much friendlier. For one thing, the robot displayed genuine relief at seeing Patrick free from Dandelo. Additionally, he was eager to help them with anything they needed.

They eventually piled into Bill’s plow, and were taken to a hut on the very edge of the White Lands. This trip had taken just a day and a half. Once there, Bill regretfully informed them that he may go no further. He did, however, offer them a truck that could take them all the way to the Tower. He assured them that it was easy enough to use and that they could arrive at the Tower by mid-morning the next day. They both found this to be a fine idea, so Cuthbert asked Bill to show him how to work it.

--------------------

They resumed their journey with Cuthbert controlling the truck. Under his seat, Roland found a box containing several of the discs that Bill had called ceedees. Music was stored on them. The robot had played some to keep them entertained on their way to the hut. Roland raised the box up for Cuthbert and Patrick to see and asked if they wanted music.

“Yeah, why not? Put one in the little slot, like the robot did.”

"Well, which one should I put in? Pick one", he said, shoving the box toward Cuthbert.

"Since I'm busy trying to maneuver this large machine, I will leave the choice of music up to you, do it please ya.”

Roland then reached back to push the box in Patrick's direction. "What about you Patrick? Would you like to choose?"

Patrick shook his head and waved Roland off. He was busy drawing.

"Just pick one, sweetheart. Quit trying to hand the task off to someone else. Look for one that calls to ya."

So he did just that. His digging hand found one that momentarily stole his breath. The fottergraf (that was how he always thought of it, despite having learned that the word is actually photograph) on the cover showed four gunslingers, dressed in the fashion with which Roland was very familiar. He had trouble reading the words on the cover, but he thought the first one was ‘Eagles’. At first glance, Roland had mistaken the four men as himself, Cuthbert, Jamie DeCurry, and Alain Johns. He almost instantly realized that this wasn't the case, but the similarities were eerie. He pushed the disc in.

They listened to several of the musical discs on their way, but it was this one that Roland liked the best. For the songs on that disc were undoubtedly written about gunslingers. It seemed to him that whoever had written those songs, had seen Gilead, as it was in his youth. It disheartened him to know that they would eventually need to leave the truck behind and he would likely never hear those songs again.

-----------------

Once the Tower started to come into view, Cuthbert suggested that they stop the truck and walk the last bit. Roland thought it was a good idea--he found that he wasn’t quite ready to arrive. He needed more time to convince his brain that he was really about to see the very thing he had dedicated most of his life to. His heart was beating wildly and he felt light-headed. But no, that wasn’t quite right--not light-headed, just light. As if everything that had troubled his mind since setting out on his quest ceased to matter. Even so, he was daunted.

As they got closer, that feeling of lightness persisted. Roland reached his hand toward Cuthbert’s, almost timidly. Cuthbert immediately took it and grasped it firmly. Despite the fact that Cuthbert was using his bad hand, his grip was so tight that Roland’s bones started to hurt. He didn’t mind. It kept him grounded. He felt a light touch on his other hand--the two fingered one--and saw Patrick looking at him, trying to smile. He took his hand, careful not to crush it like he and Cuthbert were currently doing to each other’s hands.

Hand in hand they approached the Tower. With only the field of roses lying between them and the tall, enigmatic building, Roland realized he could hear voices singing. Beautiful, tantalizing voices. But they were faint. Much fainter than they would have been had he come when he had originally meant to, this he instinctively knew. Still, he held onto Cuthbert and Patrick, his anchors.

“It’s---” Roland started, but at that moment, a great shriek floated to them on the breeze.

“GUNSLINGERS!” screamed the Crimson King. “NOW YOU DIE!”

This piercing screech was punctuated by a whistling sound, thin at first and then growing. Roland recognized it for what it was and his instincts were quick as ever, as were Cuthbert’s. They both took off, pulling Patrick along with them by their joined hands, and found cover behind a heap of stones. They watched as something golden flew through the air. It flew past the stonepile pyramid they were using as cover and then reversed direction, racing toward them. Roland shot it out of the air. After a blinding flash, it was gone.

“Sneetches,” Roland grunted. “Just like the ones by the Wolves during the fight for the Calla.”

Looking through the far seeing device, Cuthbert saw the Crimson King on a balcony, two levels up from the base of the Tower. A crate, which must hold his ammunition supply, lay at his feet. Cuthbert passed the device to Roland so that he could get a look.

The Crimson King would continue to throw sneetches, but Roland wasn’t too worried. With both him and Cuthbert here, he was confident they could shoot anything out of the air, unless he could throw twenty five at a time. And Roland thought there was a good chance he didn’t even have that many. Even if he did, he wouldn’t want to run through his supply so quickly.

Unfortunately though, they were stuck.

Meanwhile, Patrick apparently had been using this time to draw the Crimson King. He had a pretty good portrait going, but he needed the far-seeing instrument to get the details right. He tugged on Roland’s sleeve. When Roland looked over, he pointed at his drawing and then at the instrument.

“No Patrick, now is not the time for drawing, do ya not see it?” Roland shouted, shooting another sneetch out of the air.

Patrick made a desperate sound and pointed emphatically at the bag in which Cuthbert stored the erasers. When Roland still didn’t understand, he pointed at the Crimson King, then at the sketchpad, and then made furious erasing motions. He cycled around these gestures waiting for it to click.

Roland, in his stress, still wasn’t following. “What does he need it for?”

“The erasers!” Cuthbert, who had always been good at making connections, shouted in realization. He was thinking of something strange that had happened on their way here. They had stopped to eat and elected to stay inside the truck. Outside the windows, they had seen a herd of bannock. Patrick quickly got to work and produced a breath-taking drawing of them. It was astounding in its accuracy, except he had drawn them about five to ten miles closer. When Cuthbert glanced from the drawing back out to the herd, he thought for a moment that he was losing his mind--for it seemed that the bannock were that close after all. Cuthbert’s eyes had always been sharp so perhaps he should’ve questioned this lapse a little more, but he chalked it up to his eyes being tired from staring out the wide front window of the truck for hours on end. “Dandelo removed the erasers! I knew there had to be a reason for it! It was in his best interest. Wasn’t it, Patrick?”

“To see, Roland, what else?” Cuthbert said impatiently. Now that he understood what the boy had been trying to say, he was anxious for Patrick to get started. “He needs to get this drawing just right. Because drawing isn’t his only talent, he can also erase. Not just from the paper, but from existence. Isn’t that right, Patrick?”

Patrick nodded and reached once again for the instrument which Roland finally handed over. “Are you sure?” Roland asked. The fact that they had never tested this ability worried him. But it made a strange bit of sense. Roland had been invested with the power of drawing people into the universe. Was it so hard to believe that Patrick could draw things into existence with his sketchpad? And if he could draw, mayhap he could also erase. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Well, then we’re fucked,” Cuthbert said, laughing. “Let the boy try.”

Patrick nodded enthusiastically and once again pointed at Cuthbert’s bag. Cuthbert quickly pulled out what the boy needed and told Roland to give him the far-seeing tool.

-----------------

Patrick worked slowly, understanding that every line needed to be perfect. While he worked, the Crimson King periodically called out to them, trying to coax them into breaking cover. Cuthbert called back tauntingly and Roland shot the sneetches thrown their way.

When Patrick finally showed them the picture, they were astounded. They’d seen his work and had known his talent, but this was something else entirely. It looked as though the Crimson King was going to jump right off the page.

As amazing as the picture was, all three of them knew that something wasn’t quite right.

“It’s the eyes,” Roland said. “Something with the eyes.”

Patrick nodded frantically. Yes, the eyes, he thought, but what’s wrong with them?

They sat there, staring at the drawing and trying to figure it out. The longer they sat, the more stressed they became. Roland felt his heart sink. He knew he wouldn’t be able to figure it out. The singing voices from the Tower were starting to get louder and he couldn’t think straight.

So close, Roland thought, To think we came all this way just to meet our deaths.

Patrick pulled at his sleeve once again, and then pointed at the road. Pointing back the way they had come.

Roland shook his head wearily. “To retreat would do us no good, Pat. Once we break cover, he’ll use whatever else he has. He has something. I’m sure of it.”

“Yes,” Cuthbert agreed, “And whatever it is our weapons won’t be able to stop it.”

Patrick shook his head furiously. His hair flung back and forth with the force of it. He was helpless to do anything but keep pointing, frustrated that they weren’t getting him. He grabbed Cuthbert by the arm, tightening his grip until his fingernails pushed into the gunslingers flesh through his layers of clothing. He jabbed his fingers one again toward the road. Only, it wasn’t the road he was pointing at.

"The roses!" Cuthbert cried out as understanding washed over him, "Aye, of course! He is the Crimson King after all. Roland, he needs the red from the roses!"

Patrick nodded with tears in his eyes, grateful to finally be understood in this crucial moment.

"Bert, cover me!" Roland shouted and ran for the roses.

As he ran, he heard the approaching whine of another sneetch, but he wasn’t perturbed. His beloved was covering him and he trusted no one more with his life. Just a beat later, the sneetch was blown apart by Cuthbert’s bullet.

Roland went to the closest rose, closed his bad hand around it and wrapped his good one on top. He started pulling frantically, thorns biting into his skin. With nothing to protect his hands from the rose, enormous pain washed over him, but paid it no heed. He pulled and pulled until the rose eventually came loose, roots and all, and then raced back to Patrick.

Once he handed the rose over to the boy, Cuthbert carefully took Roland's bad hand and examined it. Roland paid no attention to this; he was busy watching Patrick get to work on creating color for his drawing. He watched as Patrick placed some of the petals in his mouth, chewed them into paste, and spat the paste into his palm.

"Oh, love, your poor hand," Cuthbert said.

Roland looked down to see that in addition to mangling his palm, the thorns had taken one of his remaining fingers (Eddie would later joke that Roland would forever "hang loose", referencing a hand gesture from his world).

"I'll live," Roland responded, starting to pull his hand away. "Stay focused on yon Red King, if it would please ya."

When Cuthbert relinquished his mutilated hand, Patrick took it. He swiped up some of the blood and mixed it into the rose-paste, creating the perfect shade for the Red King’s eyes.

They watched as Patrick filled in the eyes of his drawing, ever so delicately. Cuthbert found that he had to look away for a moment. With the red being added, the daemon looked a little too realistic for comfort. Once done, Patrick sat up straight with a confident look in his eye. Then, he broke into an enormous, sunny grin. This time, when Patrick showed them the picture, they knew it would work.

As if to confirm this, the Crimson King started screaming once again.

“WHAT’S THEE DOING? EEEEEEE! EEEEEEEE! STOP! IT BURNS! IT BURRRRNS! EEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Cuthbert produced the eraser and held it out to Patrick. “Go on, Patrick, make him gone. Stop his everlasting caterwauling. For he’s starting to get on my nerves, so he is.”

“Yes,” Roland said. “Make him gone.” And for a wonder, Patrick did.

When Patrick was finished, there was nothing left of The Crimson King but his eyes, both on page and in reality.

-----------------

They approached the Tower just before sunset, as Roland had always seen it in his dreams.

And even now, after all this time, it was difficult to resist the pull. He was grateful to have Cuthbert here, holding his good hand and reminding him of everything he gained by giving up his life’s goal. Everything he would lose if he gave in to temptation.

All he had to do was look at Cuthbert’s bright, smiling face to drive out the beguiling voices coming from the Tower. Cuthbert, he who was lost and then found. His beloved, his person, who now wore the Horn of Eld on his belt. As he had done before, for ka had come full circle.

“It’s beautiful,” Cuthbert said.

“It’s awful,” Roland replied, trying desperately to believe his own words. “Let us take our leave and be done with it, for all times.” He turned and moved toward Patrick, who stood a few steps behind them.

“Wait,” Cuthbert said, “There’s something we need to do first.” He stepped closer, as close as he dared, and Roland, still holding his hand, came with him. The two of them walked among the roses, tethered to each other. As they walked, Cuthbert started to cry the names of their friends, loved ones, and ka-mates.

“We come in the name of Robert Allgood, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Grace Allgood, she of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Aileen Ritter, she of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Cortland Andrus, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Alain Johns, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Thomas Whitman, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Wallace Vannay, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Abel Vannay the Wise, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Jamie DeCurry, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Sheemie Ruiz, he of Mejis!

“We come in the name of Patrick Danville, son of Sonia!

“I am Cuthbert of Gilead, and I come as myself!

From here, Roland picked up the calls without a moment’s hesitation.

“We come in the name of Steven Deschain, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Gabrielle Deschain, she of Gilead!

“We come in the name of Hax the Cook, he of Gilead!

“We come in the name of David the Hawk, he of Gilead and the sky!

“We come in the name of Susan Delgado, she of Mejis!

“We come in the name of Pere Callahan, he of Jerusalem’s Lot, and the roads!

“We come in the name of Ted Brautigan, he of America!

“We come in the name of Dinky Earnshaw, he of America!

“We come in the name of Aunt Talitha, she of River Crossing, and I will now lay her cross here, as I was bid!

“We come in the name of Stephen King, he of Maine!

“We come in the name of Oy, the brave, he of Mid-World!

“We come in the name of Eddie Dean, he of New York!

“We come in the name of Susannah Dean, she of New York!

“We come in the name of Jake Chambers, whom I call my own true son!

“I am Roland of Gilead, and I come as myself!

“We’ve come to honor those who were lost along the way,” Cuthbert said. “Those who sacrificed their lives so that we may make it here. And those who made sacrifices of their own. But, you won’t have us. This is our stand against purpose, against fate. Against ka.” Before anything else could happen, Cuthbert tightened his grasp on Roland’s hand, turned, and fled. He ran, laughing wildly and pulling his dear one helplessly along with him, back to where Patrick stood waiting. And did he stop then? Nay. He reached out, grabbed Patrick’s hand with his free one, and kept running.

-----------------

Their journey back was much quicker than their trip out. The truck managed to take them all the way back to Tower Outpost 19, where they had originally parted ways with Stuttering Bill. They got out and found Bill at the outpost, doing maintenance on one of the vehicles. The robot was excited to see them and once again offered his help. The truck they were currently using was most likely used up, but he suggested they could switch vehicles. He offered up another truck, identical to the one they had been using. This truck, he told them, should be able to take them back the way they came. If not all the way, it would at least take them a great deal closer. Cuthbert, who had grown quite fond of the robot, offered to take him back to the Calla with them. Roland thought it was a good idea; it might be nice to have a good, friendly robot in the Calla. One that could be trusted. But alas, his programming did not allow him to go too far beyond his post.

-----------------

The truck eventually did stop working, but by then they were close enough that their trip home would only take a couple more days to walk. They didn’t bother trying to see if they could figure out a way to make it work again. They simply gathered their gunna, and resumed their journey on foot.

With them so close, Jake--who had been desperately trying to reach them through the touch-- was finally able to feel them, if only very faintly. He couldn’t tell exactly how far they were (or what state they were in), but he knew that they were both present and accounted for, which was enough to temporarily soothe his anxious mind. Neither one had been lost to the Tower, tell the Gods thankee.

-----------------

When Roland saw their family gathered on the edge of town, he surmised that someone must have seen them coming. In truth, Jake had felt them getting close and rounded up the family. In any case, Roland’s fatigue melted away at the sight of them and he quickened his pace. Cuthbert did the same.

They hastened over to where their family stood waiting, two little kiddies amongst them. Roland believed them to be the most beautiful children to have ever graced any plane of existence on any level of the Tower. Gloria and Moses. Twins, of course. What else could be expected? The wheel, in its perpetual motion, always comes back around.

Patrick, overwhelmed by the amount of people, had withdrawn. He moved to sit under a nearby tree, placing his sketchpad in front of him. Roland and Cuthbert wordlessly allowed him the space; introductions could be made later. And they would, because Patrick was now a part of their family.

Susannah sped over to them, faster than ever in the wheelchair recently gifted to her by the Sisters of Oriza. They worked together to construct it, using her old one as a model. Still fairly primitive, but it suited her needs just fine. She stopped in front of Roland and raised her arms to be lifted, to which Roland happily complied. She embraced him heartily and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She had been the most apprehensive about their trip, but had relented when they both assured her that neither would go too near, they only wanted to look. “So,” she whispered with a conspiring smile, “What did you see?”

He looked to the side and saw Cuthbert and Eddie sharing their own embrace, Oy excitedly running in circles around them. Jake and Benny, each with one of the twins in their arms, stood anxiously waiting for their turns to greet them. He turned his eyes back to the beautiful, courageous woman he currently held in his arms. His own true daughter, brought by ka and secured by love.

“Nothing that was worth a damn,” he responded with a smile, matching her conspiring tone. He was surprised to find that he meant every word. Cuthbert had been right (as he often was, Roland could admit). Having seen it and turned away from it, Roland felt no urge to go back. It felt as though a spell had been broken. He gave Susannah one last squeeze and placed her back down in her chair.

Next came Jake with Gloria in his arms. The bright, goofy grin on Jake’s face temporarily returned him to the kid of eleven that Roland had first met in the desert. Since that initial meeting, Jake had bravely faced many trials and hardships, much more than a kid his age should. Roland felt contrite about much of it, but he was never regretful that they had been brought together.

“Hile father,” Jake said, fist to forehead, trying to sound casual and missing it by a long shot. He’d missed them both too much.

“Hile son,” Roland said. Then, dropping the formalities, he pulled his boy close and hugged him tightly, minding the sma’ one between them.

“Boppa, Boppa!” Gloria babbled, reaching her chubby little hands towards Roland. At just under two years old, this was the closest she could get to ‘Papa’.

Roland squeezed Jake once more and then took Gloria from him. Jake was happy to hand her over. It satisfied his heart to know that Roland had once again come back--had definitively chosen his family over the Tower. A small part of his mind, the part that stubbornly remembered Roland letting him drop in the mountains, had been nervous. But that was all over and he’d never have to wonder again where his father’s loyalties lie. There was one thing he was confused about, though.

“Who’s the kid with the sketchpad?” Jake asked. He had seen him walking into town with them, but he’d actually been aware of him even before that. While reaching out for Roland and Cuthbert, he’d briefly touched the mind of the boy. He sensed that he could’ve established communication with him--he was strong in the touch, like Jake--but the kid was shy.

“That’s Patrick, we met him on our way. You’ll meet him in a little bit. He’s not used to seeing so many people,” Roland said. “And he’s no kid. I believe he’s older than you. As unfathomable as it is to me, you’re no kid either.” Roland looked down at Gloria and started gently bouncing her in his arms. Looking at her restored his hope for his world. This bah-bo would never have to go through tribulations such as those Jake and Patrick had gone through. With Susannah and Eddie for parents and Jake for an uncle, Gloria and Moses were just about the luckiest babbies in the world.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of his husband approaching.

“Let’s go see Papa,” Cuthbert cooed. Roland looked up to see Cuthbert, now with Moses in his arms, making his way over so that they could each greet the other twin.

“Gramp!” Gloria screeched, reaching for Cuthbert. They carefully swapped twins. Once the babbies were satisfied with their greetings, they wanted to be put down to toddle freely in the grass.

As he was putting Moses down, Roland felt something brush up against his leg. Roland smiled, knowing who had come to greet him.

“Olan!”

Roland knelt down to face Oy. “Why, hello, Oy. It’s good to see you, fella,” He said, stroking the bumbler’s fur. As he was petting Oy, Eddie knelt down next to him.

“Glad you made it back, ol’ long tall and ugly,” Eddie said, and hugged his father. When he pulled away, he nodded his head toward the others. “Check out the newlyweds.”

After their initial greetings, Jake and Benny seemed to have fallen back into their own little world, as was typical. The newlyweds, Eddie had said, and Roland still thought of them as such, though they had been married for over two years now. Their wedding had been a joyous occasion for the whole town. One of their own had been getting married to a gunslinger--one from the very group that helped free their town from a vicious cycle, saving their kiddies from unthinkable horrors. If anyone had had a negative word to say about it, they were drowned out by the enthusiastic support.

To come back to such a wonderful group of beings replenished Roland’s soul. And the fact that Susannah and Eddie not only allowed, but actually encouraged their children to regard both Roland and Cuthbert as grandparents? Never did he think a life could be so fulfilling.

Roland and Cuthbert’s eyes met over the group of their gathered loved ones. Roland could tell from the look on his husband’s face that they were thinking the same thoughts. That this life was more than the likes of them deserved, but they would not let that stop them from enjoying it. When Roland first started his quest--the true start, in the desert--he never could’ve predicted where his life would end up. Somehow, with the odds stacked against him, he wound up with three strong, brave people who regarded him as father, two wonderful grandchildren, a loving and fiercely protective billy-bumbler, and a beautiful husband who he endlessly adored. They’d never had a wedding, but in these days, ceremonies weren’t necessary. Let the young ones have all the joy of such occasions. For them, it was enough to express their devotion through small, every-day gestures. They had both been to Na’ar and back and knew that their love would withstand anything.

All thoughts of the Dark Tower dissolved from Roland’s mind, never to return. For nothing the Tower had to offer could have compared to this. Never in life.

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m-o-o-n-thatspellsblog · 1 year

Text

The Drawing of the Fool- Part 2/2

Word Count: 8,811

Relationships: Roland/Cuthbert, Eddie/Susannah, Jake/Benny

AO3 LINK

It was still mostly dark when Cuthbert decided to get up. He had lay awake for most of the night, unable to quiet his mind long enough to fully rest. He considered waking Roland, but only for a moment. He appeared to be deeply asleep and Cuthbert didn’t want to disturb him. After all, he wasn’t the only one who’d had trouble sleeping. He heard Roland groaning a while ago, almost as if he was in great pain. However, whatever nightmare he’d been having seemed to have passed, and Cuthbert would not be the one to deprive Roland of repose.

On his way over, he heard some light scratching sounds. He turned and saw Eddie sitting on a log with his back to him. He was crouched over something and seemed to be in deep concentration. Cuthbert made his way over, intentionally stepping on some twigs to alert Eddie to his presence. He didn’t want to scare the shit out of him; he really wanted to be on good terms with these people.

“If you cut a finger off, at least you’d be in fellowship with Roland and me,” Cuthbert said, holding up his right hand. “In fact, you should cut off two so you’ll be even with us.”

Instead, he decided to walk down to where the others were camped and see if any of them were awake. Although he didn’t know them very well, it was his nature to prefer company over solitude. And they seemed like nice company. Much nicer than he perhaps deserved.

“You’re going to strain your eyes doing that in the dark.”

“Maybe I should go for three. That way I can hold it over your heads: ‘You think you guys got it hard losing a mere two fingers? Try losing three!’”

“I should think I’d still have you beat, having lost an eye and all,” Cuthbert said with a laugh and then gestured at the log Eddie was sitting on. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Go for it,” Eddie said with a shrug. He went back to his whittling and it was quiet for a moment. Of course, that couldn’t last long because a distaste for silence was in both of their natures. Once the quiet got to be too loud, Eddie spoke. “So,” he started, “have you decided what you’re going to do? Like, do you think you might stay with us for a while? Or are you still going after the Tower?”

Eddie looked up from his whittling and smiled. “Eh, it’s light enough.”

Cuthbert thought for a moment. In truth, he hadn’t given it much consideration. He’d spent most of the night reflecting on the stories they told and trying to ignore the quandary over his own future. “Well, I can say I’ve lost my taste for the Tower. I don’t suppose I could persist knowing that anything I do would be pointless. Though, it’s just as difficult to imagine myself conceding.”

“Why so difficult?” Eddie kept his voice only mildly curious; he didn’t want Cuthbert to think he was prying. It was easy enough to understand why it might be difficult for Cuthbert to fathom giving up the Tower, but he wanted to keep him talking. A few thoughts had occurred to him since their palaver yesterday.

“I’ve lost so much on this journey, say delah. Not only that, but I’ve changed. I’ve become cold, heartless, and I’ve crossed moral boundaries that I never thought I would. Boundaries that I never thought I’d even be capable of crossing.” He looked skyward and sighed. That sigh, paired with his look of anguish, told Eddie everything he needed to know about Cuthbert’s current perception of himself. He thought himself abhorrent for the things he’d done. Roland certainly hadn’t been proud of his own unethical actions, but Eddie didn’t think he’d ever seen a look quite like this on his face. Cuthbert continued, “It was one thing knowing that there was a purpose, that the outcome was well worth the sacrifices, but for it to all have been for nothing…” He trailed off, putting his face in his hands. “I sold my own soul. And what a bargain it was--I sold it for nothing.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t think it was for nothing. I might have a theory about that. Can I ask you a question?” Eddie asked, thinking of chickens, spiders, and a barn. For it was Cuthbert that Stephen King remembered from his childhood. He’d also recognized his savior as Eddie because of their twin-like similarities (mirrored souls--dig the concept), but it was Cuthbert he thought of first.

“Aye, as you will.” Cuthbert sounded resigned, as if he truly didn’t believe that any theory Eddie may have could justify what he’d done. Eddie hoped he could prove Cuthbert wrong.

“In your wanderings, did you ever come across a little boy in a barn?” Eddie asked, placing his current whittling project to the side. “Or perhaps, did you save this boy from a flood of red spiders? He would’ve been…ah, I want to say 7 years old, if my memory serves. Black hair, blue eyes, thick glasses. Any of this ring a bell?”

Cuthbert lifted his face from his hands, astonished. “That sounds exactly like a dream I once had. Just before finding Jake at the Way Station, that was.”

“That was no dream,” Eddie said. He had to stop himself from jumping up and down with excitement. If that happened right before he met Jake, then it was this specific version of Cuthbert who had saved Stephen King’s life when he was a boy. This meant that he’d had a part to play in their quest, and he had played it well. He was truly ka-tet, one from many. They had already unknowingly been bound together by the purpose of their quest. “That was todash, baby! You really saved that kid’s life. Didn’t you hear the chimes?”

“At the time, I thought I heard something… but nay, it couldn’t have been the kammen. I was in possession of nary a Bend o’ the Bow. Nor did I have a door or any intention of going todash.”

“You may not have had the glass, but the man you were following had the Black Thirteen. It must have reached out to you while you slept, like it did for Jake and me, and it sent you to Keystone Earth.”

“Alright, so I went todash and saved a little boy,” Cuthbert said indulgently. “What is the significance? I mean, I understand that saving a child is a good deed, but it certainly doesn’t make up for all of the atrocities I’ve committed in the name of the Tower.”

“That little boy was Stephen King, the writer whose life we saved in the year of 1999. If you hadn’t saved him, he would’ve become an agent of the Red King--his pet writer. Our quest would’ve been over before it even had a fair chance to begin. You helped save the Tower, that’s what it was all for.”

“Do you really say so?” Could it be true that he helped save the Tower without being aware of it? That all of his actions had led him to where he needed to be, that it wasn’t without purpose after all?

“I do and I say true. You’re one of us. And I don’t want to hear one word about how you don’t deserve it; ka wouldn’t have placed you here if it wasn’t where you belonged. Every single one of us has done things we’re not proud of. If you feel unworthy now, then this is your chance at redemption. Your chance to choose love over obsession.”

“I’d like to join up with ye, in fact, I’d like nothing more. I’d do well not to let Roland out of my sight again. But how can I look Jake in the eye knowing that the last time I saw him, I let him fall to his death?”

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, that’s not exactly Jake’s favorite memory. But he forgave Roland, and in this world, Roland is the one who let him drop. Water under the bridge, I’d say. If you want to talk about it with him, he’d probably be willing. But it might be best to let sleeping dogs lie. He really doesn’t like to talk about it.”

"Doesn't like to talk about what?" Jake called as he emerged from the trees with Oy at his heels.

"Oh, hey Jake! I was just telling Cuthbert here how much you hate it when I mention your annoying habit of butting into my conversations."

Jake made his way over to where they were seated and showed Eddie his middle finger. Cuthbert had never seen this gesture before, but he guessed from Eddie's exaggerated offended gasp that it wasn't a gesture of good will. Good humor though, as it seemed they were both stifling laughter. "Johnathan Jake Chambers, I'm surprised at you!" Eddie exclaimed.

"That's not even my name, dumbass. My first name is just John. And if you call me that, I'll have no choice but to disown you," Jake said, pointing firmly at Eddie. "Anyway, I just came to see if you guys wanted to eat with us. We've still got some of the pokeberry muffins I brought back from the Calla."

"Hell yeah," Eddie said, jumping up from his seat. “You heard 'em, Bert. Looks like it's just about gobble o'clock!" He exclaimed, squinting down at an imaginary watch on his wrist.

Although Cuthbert had never seen a wristwatch in his life, he kenned a joke when he saw one. He pulled Eddie's wrist toward him and squinted down at it, just as Eddie had done. "Why, I believe you're right!

-----------------

There was some light talk while they ate, but nothing of importance. Eddie and Cuthbert were amusing themselves, feeding off of each other’s energy while the rest were quietly trying to come fully awake.

Once all meals were finished and sleepiness was shaken off, it was time to discuss what was next.

“So,” Eddie said conversationally, “Any idea where to go from here?” Everyone looked to Roland, as they often did when guidance was needed.

“We’ll go to the Calla,” Roland said decisively. “Jake was already going back there, so we’ll go with him. There, Cuthbert, you’ll be able to acquire anything you need, a new bedroll, clothing, what have you. We can stay there until you’ve decided what you want to do. I think we could all use a period of reprieve.”

“That sounds just fine to me,” Cuthbert said after a moment of contemplation. “I have to ask though--we talked a great deal about what led you to renounce the Tower, but we didn’t speak much of the present. What exactly is it that ye do now?”

“Most of our time is spent traveling. When we pass through a town in need of help, we provide it. There hasn't been much in the last few years, but more than you might think. Ever since the Beams started rebuilding, civilization has been coming back.”

“Roaming gunslingers,” Cuthbert mused. “Just like the gunslingers of old. Before our time, even. Before the wars.”

“Sure,” Jake said, “Because that’s all that’s needed nowadays. No more wars, just restoration and rebuilding.”

Cuthbert turned to Jake, reminded of his other question. “Roland said you were already going back to the Calla on your own. May I ask why? Do you often split up or do you generally travel together?” Jake, unsure of how much he should say, looked at Roland, willing him to answer for him.

“We generally stay together, although sometimes we may split up if it serves,” Roland said. “However, Jake has his own purpose for going back and I will leave that up to him to decide if he’d like to share that with you.” He turned to Jake, grasping his shoulder and lowered his voice a little, “You don’t have to share anything with which you are uncomfortable.”

“No, that’s okay, I can tell him,” Jake said. He’d never tried to hide who he was since crossing over into this strange world, and he didn’t want to start now. If Cuthbert wasn’t okay with it, well, then that’s just too bad. Besides, he didn’t want this to be treated like some big deal; it wouldn’t be like that if Benny was a girl. “I’m going back to settle down with my partner. I guess you could say I’m retiring from being a gunslinger,” Jake looked down as he said this last part, for this was the part he was most regretful of speaking out loud. Even though the others have been supportive of his choice, part of him still feels as though he’s abandoning his family.

“You should feel no shame in that, Jake,” Roland said, gently rubbing Jake’s shoulder. “You’ve done more than enough. It’s time for you to enjoy your youth.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Eddie said. “I mean, jeez Jake, at your age I was… well, we don’t need to talk about what I was like back then.” Susannah smiled and wrapped her arm around her love.

Cuthbert, still a turn behind them, asked, “Partner? Do you mean a marriage partner?”

“Well, we’re not exactly married--yet, anyway--but yeah, like a romantic partner. You remember Benny Slightman from our story yesterday? The one who I stayed with during our time there?” When Cuthbert nodded, he went on. “He’s my boyfriend. We came back around to the Callas so that I could reconnect with him and maybe tell him my feelings. I spent about a month there, while Roland, Susannah, and Eddie waited behind. And, well, he returned my feelings. So yeah, we’re together now.” Jake was blushing faintly, but there was a wide smile on his face. It was clear that this boy made him very happy.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Jake. While you were speaking of saving the Calla, I got an idea that you cared greatly for him.”

“He does,” Roland said, clearly proud of his boy. “So it’s decided, we’ll go to Calla Bryn Sturgis to recompose. Any objections?”

There weren’t any.

-----------------

Two days later, the group of gunslingers made it to Calla Bryn Sturgis. Jake immediately took off for Vaughn Eisenhart's homestead, where Benny was now living. On their walk in, they passed several folken and it didn't take long for word to get around that the gunslingers were back. All of them this time, not just Jake, who they’d already welcomed enthusiastically.

They wandered into town, looking for someone they recognized. Roland, Eddie, and Susannah were hit with waves of nostalgia. When they first left this place, they never thought they’d be back. Places to go and Towers to see, ya ken. Much has changed since then. As they made their way in, someone called out to them, Roland specifically.

"Roland? Is it you?"

They all turned to see a woman walking over to where they stood. Most recognized her as Rosalita Munoz, Cuthbert however had no idea who she was. He only knew that she was an attractive woman who was excited to see Roland. Perhaps an old lover. He felt the old familiar flare of jealousy rise up and tried to shove it back down. He didn't want this to be like Mejis, when he had first allowed jealousy to get in the way of their friendship. That was kiddie stuff. He would just have to get used to seeing Roland be romantic with someone who wasn't him. All over again.

Roland smiled brightly and waved her over. "Rosalita!" He called. "Lovely as ever, so you are."

She blushed and Roland pulled her in for a brief hug. "It's wonderful to see you all back," She said as she pulled away. She regarded the rest of the group. Eddie and Susannah waved and gave greetings of their own. "Ye all look well, tell the Gods thankee.” She gestured to where Cuthbert stood, and added: “Ye even gained one it seems."

"So we have," Roland said and motioned for Cuthbert to come over. Cuthbert braced himself and walked over, trying not to show his uneasiness. Of course, he had a reliable way of masking his emotions that he could always fall back on.

“Cuthbert, this is Rosalita Munoz,” Roland said. “One who fought valiantly against the Wolves.”

“Hile, dear lady!” Cuthbert exclaimed, falling to one knee in front of Rosalita and taking her hand. “Excuse me if I seem a bit taken aback. I wasn’t apprised of such beauty in the Calla. I may need a moment to catch my breath, for you’ve taken it away.”

Rosalita couldn’t help but laugh at this unexpected display of dramatics. It seemed this man was the exact opposite of Roland, who was always so stoic.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Roland said. “It seems he never developed the ability to be serious.” Although he clearly wanted to sound annoyed, Rosalita didn’t miss the tiny twitch on the left side of Roland’s mouth. Nay, she didn’t think he was annoyed at all.

“It’s true, and unfortunately Roland never developed a sense of humor,” Cuthbert said with a laugh. He stood up to greet her properly, putting his fist to his forehead. “Cuthbert Allgood of Gilead comes to you, sai.”

“Gilead,” she repeated questioningly and looked at Roland for confirmation. “Do ya truly say so?”

“Aye, he speaks true. He’s an old friend of mine.”

“Well,” she said, surprised. Another gunslinger out of Gilead? She didn’t see how it could be, but she let it go. There were many things she didn’t understand about Roland and his ka-tet. “We are well-met, Sai Allgood.”

“Let me be Cuthbert please, if it does ya,” Cuthbert said, flawlessly picking up the dialect of the Calla.

"Rosalita," Susannah broke in. "Do you know where I might find Zalia Jaffords? Or Tian?"

"Yar, Zalia's right over in the town square, having lunch with her kiddies.”

"Thankee-sai," Susannah said with a curtsy then took off in that direction. They'd already discussed that they would need to make sleeping arrangements, and the Jaffords' place seemed likely enough for her and Eddie. They had already been welcomed into their home once, and that was before they saved the town's children.

"Eddie, why don't you take Cuthbert over to Took's while I catch up with Rosalita here," Roland said.

"Sure thing." He turned to Cuthbert and clapped him on the shoulder. "I believe we've been dismissed, old pal."

----------------

“I see that the Pere isn't with you,” Rosalita said as she and Roland started walking together. The Pere’s church, Our Lady of Serenity, would eventually be in sight if they kept going in this direction.

“No,” Roland said solemnly. “The Pere was brave and he stood true, but no, he didn’t make it, say sorry.”

“It's alright, I'm not surprised. The Manni, they told us he had gone to the clearing. But I guess I still held out a little hope. I suppose I could’ve asked yer boy when he came back on his own, but…” she trailed off, but Roland kenned what she was trying to say. She hadn’t asked because she wanted to hold onto her hope for just a bit longer.

“If it's any consolation, he died a hero. He was an honorable man. We all say thankee.”

“So, what are ye doing back here? Do you need a place to stay? I have the Pere's old place now. You could stay with me, just like old times.”

“We just needed a place to rest awhile. As for your gracious offer, I think I should stay somewhere else this time. You're a goodly woman, Rosa, but things between us can't be like last time.” He sounded as though he expected her to be upset, but in truth, she didn’t mind. She hadn’t expected anything from him. ‘Twas only an idea.

“Well that's just fine, Roland. Yer not breaking my heart any. No need to look so guilty.”

“That's good to hear. For I'd like to be your friend if it would please ya.”

“Yar, of course. Might this have anything to do with the new man ye have brought along?” She hadn’t missed the man’s watchful glare thrown her way just before Roland called him over to be introduced.

“It might,” he allowed, keeping his face blank.

Rosalita decided to push her luck with another question. “Are you two together, like how Jake is with the Slightman boy?” This was currently the talk of the town. Young Benny Slightman and the boy gunslinger seemed to be in some kind of relationship, and were quite open about it. As puzzling as it was--them being two boys and all--none seemed bothered by it. They were mostly just curious.

“Nay, not together.”

“Ah, but you want to be, is that it?”

Roland said nothing but the way his face immediately flushed said enough. He had been doing his best to keep his emotions off of his face (something he was normally quite good at), but he hadn’t been expecting her to ask straight out like that.

“I won’t push the matter any further but know that I don't judge ye, Roland,” Rosalita said. “He seems like a fine man.” Then, changing the subject before Roland could get too embarrassed: “Did ye reach yer Tower? There hasn’t been another Beamquake, so ya must have done something, I beg.”

“We saved it, and that’s all that matters. The Tower and the Beams are no longer in imminent danger. I say thankee to my ka-tet, Father Callahan included. For without him, we never would have gotten as far as we did.

-----------------

About a week later, Cuthbert found himself standing once again in Took’s General Store. The last time he had been here was when Eddie had initially walked him over. While on their way, Cuthbert inquired about Rosalita, keeping his voice only mildly curious; he didn’t need anybody finding out about his feelings. Eddie had not so delicately informed him that yes, when they were here the first time, she had been Roland’s lover. Cuthbert tried not to let that disappoint him.

He and Roland were currently staying in the guest house on Wayne Overholser’s homestead. Although he was the wealthiest landowner in the Calla, the guest house was quite small. It didn’t matter to either one of them, though, as they were used to sleeping on the ground. It was nice to sleep in a soft bed for a change. Well, for Cuthbert anyway; Roland had elected to sleep on the settee claiming that the bed would be too comfortable for him, having been long accustomed to sleeping on the ground.

The guesthouse was shaped like a T. The long end contained only the settee and a small wooden table. The cross arm housed a closet on one end and a decent sized bed. The bed was plenty big enough for them to share--Gods knew they’d shared smaller sleeping spaces in the past--but Roland said the settee would do him just fine.

Now, Roland had gone out to have lunch with Rosalita, leaving Cuthbert without much to do. He wanted to distract himself instead of just sitting around waiting for Roland to come back, and that was how he found himself back at Took’s.

The distraction worked because he wasn’t thinking of Roland at all at that moment. No, he was staring at a hanging rack of blankets and thinking of his mother. Much like he had done in another store on a forgotten day, long ago. With all the years and all the losses, it seemed they shouldn’t hurt anymore but this wasn’t the case. They seemed to hit at the most unexpected moments. And they hit hard.

His mother, seeing the way things were going in Gilead had once tried to convince him to come away with her. To give up fighting and go somewhere they could find peace. He had been horrified at the time, taking it almost as blasphemy. But later, when she lay in her deathbed, he knew it was only because she loved him and wanted to protect her boy. Suddenly a cheerful voice spoke from his side, breaking him from his thoughts. He quickly blinked back the tears that had risen to his eyes.

“Hey, Cuthbert!” He looked to see Jake had snuck up next to him.

“Is that Jake Chambers? Why, I hardly recognize you without your other half next to you,” Cuthbert joked. Jake and Benny were quite inseparable. Cuthbert didn’t think he had seen one without the other since they arrived in town. Of course, he hadn’t seen much of Jake at all.

Jake laughed gleefully. “Benny’s busy helping Eisenhart repair the trail fences today. Hey, Took’s got some pre-made popkins that aren’t too bad--as long as you grab the fresh ones, that is. You wanna have lunch with me? There’s a bench behind the building we could sit at.”

“Aye, why not? But if these popkins poison me, I’m holding you personally responsible.” Cuthbert was actually pleasantly surprised by the idea. He had bonded with Roland’s family on their walk to the Calla and they had all gotten fairly close. At least Cuthbert thought so, but ever since they arrived it seemed the boy was avoiding him. Roland assured him that this wasn't the case, Jake was just attached to his boyfriend and wanted to spend all his time with him. But Cuthbert was sure there was something more to it and his guilty conscience attributed it to the fact that he let Jake drop in the mountains.

As it happens, Jake had been avoiding him but not for the reason he thinks. Jake had his own guilty conscience to deal with, for he had accidentally learned something about Cuthbert through the touch that he hadn't been meant to know.

-----------------

It had happened during their walk to the Calla, not too long before they had actually arrived. Cuthbert had inquired about how Jake had confessed his feelings for Benny, and Jake, always happy to have a chance to talk about Benny, told him. Cuthbert listened quietly while Jake cheerfully told him the story, which the others had already heard. As he spoke, he was a bit curious about what Cuthbert thought of all of this, but he didn’t pry.

All of the sudden, the knowledge was just there in Jake’s head.

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t entirely true. He had looked, but only a little. He only did it because he was still kind of worried that Cuthbert was homophobic. He certainly didn’t mean to find out that Cuthbert was in love with Roland. But it must have been on the very forefront of the man’s mind, because it was the first thing Jake touched. Upon discovering this, he felt tremendously guilty. He invaded Cuthbert's privacy within just days of meeting him.

The shame he felt over this was why he had been avoiding him. But he realized now that that had been selfish. It wasn’t Cuthbert’s fault that Jake had dishonored his trust. But still, he didn’t know how to handle it. Does he owe it to Cuthbert to come clean with his knowledge? Or would it be better to just pretend like he never found out? He tried to think of what he would prefer if the situation were flipped, but it was just so complicated.

Now, sitting across from Cuthbert, sharing lunch on a nice, sunny day, he felt guiltier than ever.

The look on Jake’s face once they sat down confirmed Cuthbert’s suspicions. Jake was trying his best to move past it, but there was something bothering him. “So,” Cuthbert said conversationally, “Will you tell me what I did to offend thee? For I have caught on to the fact that you’ve been avoiding me. As old as my brain is,” he gave his forehead a knock, “it does still work.”

Jake looked stunned for a moment. There was a look of surprise on his face that would’ve been comic, if Cuthbert wasn’t so worried about what it meant. Whatever had been bothering Jake, he hadn’t been expecting to address it. Cuthbert was about to tell him that he didn’t have to talk about it when Jake spoke again.

“No, you didn’t do anything. It’s me.” Jake took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to say next. “I cry your pardon, Cuthbert. I have betrayed your trust.”

This was not at all what Cuthbert was expecting. “No, Jake, you haven’t done anything--”

“I did, though,” Jake broke in, rushing to get it out before he lost his nerve. Now that he started, he supposed he no longer had a choice. He just hoped Cuthbert wouldn’t be too upset with him. “I used the touch and found something in your mind--on accident ya ken--but it was something you wouldn’t have wanted me to know and I’m sorry. It was when I was talking about Benny and I was just trying to see if you were homophobic or something. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that.”

Once Jake had gotten all of that out, Cuthbert felt pretty confident that he knew what Jake was referring to. When Jake had been talking about Benny, he couldn’t help but think of his feelings for Roland. Although he hadn’t been planning on telling anyone, it didn’t bother him too much that Jake knew. After all, he knew Jake wouldn’t judge him. There was no need for the boy to torture himself with shame.

“Alright Jake, it’s okay. I think I ken you. I don’t mind that you know. Although, if it’s okay with you, I’m not sure I’m ready to discuss it. It’s just hard for me, what with how I was raised. Perhaps you could just tell me some more about you and Benny? Might help me feel a little more comfortable, do it please ya.”

“I can do that,” Jake said and Cuthbert was happy to see a bright smile had returned to Jake’s face.

----------------

Another week had gone by when Susannah decided to walk over to the little guest house on Overholser’s homestead where Roland and Cuthbert were currently dwelling. She was glad to find Roland by himself, Cuthbert having gone out into town. She had a couple of things she wanted to discuss with Roland alone.

Roland let her in and offered her some tea. Susannah took it gratefully and then they both sat down on the couch. Roland turned to face her. “So, what is it you would like to talk to me about, Susannah? For I sense that you came to me with something on your mind.”

“Do you remember our talk by the stream a while back?”

“I remember it very well, and I think I may know where you are going with this.” He had been waiting for this to come up. Ever since Cuthbert joined up with them, he knew Susannah would want to reopen that discussion.

“I’m sure you do. You opened up to me that night. First, you said that out of everyone in your life, Cuthbert was the one with whom you wished you could spend your life. You told me that you had been in love with him and that you regretted never having told him. And then a while after that, we found a door. One that led to the very man you longed for. Seems like a mighty coincidence to me, maybe even a little nineteen to tell you the truth. Perhaps ka is rewarding you for saving the Tower.”

“Ka gives no rewards, it is not a force of good or evil, it simply is what it is,” Roland said and although this was the undeniable truth, a part of him had thought the same as Susannah. Either way, reward or not, he was grateful to have Cuthbert back and felt no need to question it any further.

“Nevertheless, you said that Jake was given a chance at the life you gave up, and you wished it for him very much. Now you’re being given the same chance. Will you not take it?”

“I hear you very well Susannah and I say thankya, but this is not the same situation. I’m perfectly content just to have him back in my life. I need not try to push it beyond that. I wish not to scare him away.”

“Roland, how do you not see it? It is the exact same situation. Think about it: Jake developed feelings for Benny, the best friend he’d ever had, but he never got a chance to confess those feelings. He couldn’t because he was on a quest for the Tower and that took priority. Years later, having since renounced the Tower, he reunited with Benny, and even though a lot of time had gone by, Jake had an opportunity to confess his feelings.” She paused for a moment, letting Roland consider what she was saying. Roland said nothing so she continued. “If you replaced Jake and Benny with Roland and Cuthbert, it would describe your current situation to a T. You never got to tell Cuthbert your feelings because you were too focused on the Tower. Now, he’s back in your life, at a time where the Tower can’t stand in your way. Take a lesson from Jake, I’m sure he’d tell you how glad he is that he took his chance.”

“Aye, that would be because the Slightman boy returned his feelings. Had he not, Jake likely would have regretted it. I have no reason to believe Cuthbert would feel the same for me.”

“You told me before how much you’ve longed for a life with a loving partner, the romantic that you are. Now you may be able to have that, but you’re too scared to go for it. I’ve never known you to let fear stand in your way.”

“I am scared, Susannah. I don’t want to lose him again. He means too much to me.”

"What arrives with the wind of ka may blow away just as easily. And just like that, the opportunity will be taken from you. Take your chance, Roland, before the ever blowing wind of change takes it for you."

“Now you sound like me,” Roland said with a small smile. “But you’re right. May it ease your mind to know that I will heed your advice. When the right moment comes, I’ll tell him.”

"Okay, now that we've settled that", she said, taking Roland's hand and giving it a little squeeze, "Can I tell you something?"

"Aye, dear heart. I'd hear anything thee wants to share."

Susannah took a deep breath and prepared herself to tell Roland what she and Eddie had decided. She wasn't sure how he would take this news. It was one thing for Jake to retire, but for all of them to up and quit on him? That might be too much. "Eddie and I have decided we want to stay here,” she said gently. “We think maybe it's time to give up the guns and start a family. Tian and Zalia have assured us that the folken would be happy to help us build a home."

"Susannah, that pleases me to hear. I wish you and Eddie every joy of a home with kiddies. I can think of no one who'd make better parents than the two of you."

"You're not mad?"

Roland gave a small chuckle. “Do you truly think so low of me--That I would be angry at my kids for going after the lives they have longed for?” He squeezed her hand as she had done, and continued softly. “In any case, how could I be angry when the thought of staying here myself has more than crossed my mind?”

“Say true? You would retire from gunslinging?” This surprised Susannah, although mayhap she shouldn’t be so surprised. Roland had once told them that at fourteen years old, he already saw himself only a few years from retiring and settling down. This of course was before the Tower pervaded his mind.

“Why not? I think the world has progressed beyond the need for such as me. Our job is done. My ways are the old ways. I think it's about time to settle down somewhere, and this is a fine place. And now, with my children here, there is nowhere I'd rather be."

Susannah smiled and hugged Roland. She was suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that they had returned to Calla Bryn Sturgis. “Eddie and I can talk to Tian and Zalia about having the folken help you build a home as well, if you would like. You can't stay with Overholser forever.”

“Aye, do that if it pleases ya. But I think I should first take care of that other piece of business we discussed. Could be I'll need room for two.”

-----------------

That night, Roland had the dream again.

It always starts the same, with their group hug on the streets of Algul Siento. They were celebrating their success, for even though there were still things to do, it was clear they won this battle. Everything was exactly as he remembered it, up to a point. Instead of shouting his renunciation, Roland simply pulled away from the embrace and they all went back to their business. Moments later, Pimli Prentiss, the boss of the show, shot Eddie, mortally wounding him before anyone had a chance to stop it.

Flashes of Eddie slowly dying in a room in Corbett Hall. Roland and Jake finished their business as Eddie lay dying. With that taken care of, they waited around, overwhelmed with regret and grief, but determined to see Eddie through to the end. Once Eddie passed on to the clearing, where he had promised to wait for Susannah, Jake and Roland dejectedly set off to save the writer. Neither felt up for it, but it was their duty and they would not let Eddie’s death be in vain.

Except, with all the time spent on the other side, waiting around for Eddie to die, they were running late. Too late. The events of ka had already been set in motion; to stop them would require a sacrifice. Roland promised himself that he would provide the sacrifice this time. Too many had died in his place so that he may go on. Roland rolled out of the truck, but was betrayed by his bad hip. Jake never hesitated, he simply leaped over Roland and disappeared beneath the vehicle.

Later, Roland went deep into the woods and buried his boy. He sent him on to the clearing with a prayer for the dead, one that he had heard from Cuthbert Allgood. He thought about Jake in the Calla, strong, bright, and seemingly infinite. How could this boy, who vivaciously jumped into a haypile with Benny Slightman, lay in his grave? This boy who stood up against incomprehensible terrors, but was still only a boy, wise beyond his years.

It’s too much. My heart can’t handle it, Roland thought, but the horror of it was that he could handle it. He was able to persist, even after these detrimental losses.

He watched as Susannah grew to resent him, blaming him for Eddie and Jake’s deaths. In a way, this hurt the most, because she was right. Who else could be responsible? He saw Susannah walk through a door. One that looked suspiciously like the one from Doorway Cave near Calla Bryn Sturgis. He knew not where she would end up, only that she would no longer be with him. There was a possibility that she may end up todash space. Still she went.

The finale to this parade of losses was Oy of course, the last member of his strange and wonderful ka-tet. He sees a vile creature, creeping through the darkness: Mordred, somehow still alive. In this alternate reality, it was Mordred who killed Walter, not the other way around. As Mordred closed in, Roland slept. He didn’t wake until he heard the furious, savage barking as Oy made his attack. Oy had sacrificed himself to save Roland, not the first to do so. And here was an image that was heartbreakingly familiar: Oy impaled on a cottonwood branch. This he had seen long ago in the Wizard’s Glass.

It’s the end of his ka-tet, the end of his family, the end of everything. All for the wretched Tower.

--------------------

Roland suddenly sat up in the middle of night with tears streaming down his face. He tried to remind himself that those things didn’t happen, that it was just a dream. Only, he knew this was no dream. This was an insight to a future that he had narrowly avoided. Very narrowly. Had he not chosen to renounce, the events of his dream would've come to fruition. He mayn’t understand it all, but he knew that.

He wiped his face frustratedly and tried to regulate his breathing, wishing not to wake Cuthbert. The first time he’d had this dream was the night after they renounced the Tower, and for a period after that, it was a recurring nightmare. However, it eventually stopped. Why, after all this time, had it come back?

He thought hard. What was the key difference between this dream and the actual events? Eventually, it came to him. In the dream, he didn't have the Horn of Eld in his belt. It was the weight of the Horn which reminded Roland of Cuthbert Allgood, one of many killed on the way to the Tower. Reminded of all those he'd lost, he realized he decided that he wouldn’t stand to lose any more.

It all came back to Cuthbert lately. He thought of something Susannah said earlier, that it was all very nineteen.

But there was something else she said: "What arrives with the wind of ka may blow away just as easily."

He had an idea that this dream was trying to tell him the very same thing.

--------------------

The next day, Roland and Cuthbert had dinner over the Eisenhart ranch with Jake, Benny, and Vaughn. Jake wanted to do a sort of ‘meet the parents’ sort of thing with his boyfriend. Ever since Benny’s dad died at the battle against the wolves, Vaughn had taken him in. They both bonded over their mutual losses and Benny regarded him as father. Jake, for his part, insisted on having both Roland and Cuthbert there.

Afterwards, Roland sat down on the couch in their quarters with a heavy sigh. He started removing his boots, grunting with effort as he did so.

Cuthbert watched this from where he was sitting on the bed. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of Roland’s grunts and sighs. "We're getting old Ro'."

“I know that very well. Some people are surprised by their age. They don’t feel as old as they are. Not me. My bones feel the weight of every year I've been alive. I feel my age. If anything, I feel older.”

“Well, I must say, you don't look a day over 900 to me,” Cuthbert said with faux sweetness, batting his eyes wildly.

“Hm. Maybe you ought to guard your glass house, as Eddie would say” (this was not precisely the saying but it’s the spirit that counts, do it please ya). “You've been around as long as I have.”

“Nay, I'm younger. Ye had a few years after renouncing the Tower before you grabbed me, still young and spry at only a few hundred years old, on the Western Sea.”

“Younger by…” Roland paused in thought. How long had it been between losing his fingers and finding the door that led to Cuthbert? It was hard to know for sure, time had gotten strange for a while. “Perhaps 6 years, more likely 5.” He stood up and stretched, exaggerating his little grunts and delighting in Cuthbert's laughter. “I'm not sure that makes a difference when one has been alive for hundreds, maybe even a thousand years.”

A thousand years, Cuthbert mused. And so much can change in that kind of time. This world was certainly a much different place than it had been when he and Roland were children, running around with sticks and knocking stuffy-guys over. Nearly unrecognizable. The world as he had known it ended with the Battle of Jericho Hill and a completely new one grew in its place.

Everything is different, but that isn’t always a bad thing. There were some changes that Cuthbert thought he could get used to.

“Roland, can I tell you something?”

“Aye, do ya,” Roland said, crossing the room and taking a seat next to Cuthbert on the bed.

“Well, I never saw myself admitting this out loud, not with our background. But your family and this community have made me feel accepted. And safe.” Cuthbert paused for a moment, thinking of how to go on. “So, I just want to tell you that I'm... well, I guess the word is gay? That's what Jake tells me anyway. The point is, I dream of love with men, hear me I beg.”

“I hear you very well, Bert, and it pleases me to hear you speak so,” Roland said, and how true it was. It pleased him to hear that his children helped Cuthbert feel comfortable with who he is, and he was glad that the community was accepting as well. But that wasn’t all. He was also pleased because…well, because mayhap Cuthbert could return his feelings. Would that be so selfish to hope? In any case, he had promised Susannah that he would tell Cuthbert of his feelings, and now seemed like the right time to pursue the subject.

Roland reached over to hug Cuthbert, who gladly returned the gesture. He felt immensely relieved. Part of him, however illogical it was, had still felt certain that Roland would be revolted at this information.

“You never told anyone?” Roland asked softly as he pulled away from their embrace. He was a little surprised by this--Cuthbert had many strengths, but holding onto secrets long-term had never been one of them.

“No. Jake knows, but other than that, the only people who have ever known are the men that I've been with. And it's not like we had to tell each other really, it was more of a... mutual understanding,” Cuthbert said. “Certain little signals you pick up on over time. That sort of thing. Well, them and one other person. But I didn't tell him either, he just knew.”

“Who?”

“‘Twas Alain. He sort of confronted me with it,” Cuthbert responded. Alain, who had always been earnest and caring toward his friends, but didn't have the most delicate way of handling drama. When forced into a mediator role, Alain tended toward bluntness. “He told me he knew because of the touch, but I don't think that’s all it was. At that point, I think I was just being very obvious about some feelings that I’d had. He was nice about me being queer. In fact, he didn't seem to care about that part of it at all. He was just mad because... Well, because I was sort of letting certain feelings get in the way of our duties."

Roland was confused. When would Cuthbert’s feelings have interfered with their duties, and why hadn’t he noticed? Maybe this had happened when Cuthbert and Alain had set off for their own mission, while he was in Debaria with Jamie. While there, he supposed it was possible that Cuthbert could have had a love affair of his own and Roland had never known.

Part of him hoped this was the case. After everything Roland had put him through in Mejis, Cuthbert deserved a romance of his own. Another part of him, however, was somehow bitterly jealous at the thought. As if this wasn't hundreds of years ago they were speaking of.

“When was this?” Roland asked.

“Uhhh well,” Cuthbert started, realizing that to answer this question would reveal a little bit more than he had been planning to say. Oh well, he thought, may as well get it all out. “It was in Mejis”.

“Mejis?” Roland was quiet for a moment as he pondered this. Most of what went wrong in Mejis had been his own fault, distracted by love as he was. The only time Cuthbert’s feelings could have interfered with their duties were…oh. “The fight you and I had... When I accused you of being jealous of me for being with Susan, you weren't jealous of me were you?”

“No. I didn't want Susan, not at all. You were right about me being jealous, though. You just had it bass-ackwards” And now, he was nervous all over again. It was one thing to tell Roland that he was gay, but to imply that he had feelings for him, even if it was a long, long time ago, may be taking it too far. He didn’t try to take it back though. He wanted to see how he’d react because…well, because upon reconnecting with Roland, those feelings had come back.

“Aye, I think I ken ya,” Roland replied. Cuthbert was underwhelmed by the reaction. He didn’t exactly seem all that surprised.

"You already knew, didn't you?" Cuthbert asked. “Yar, I was a fool to think you would never have noticed, we were best friends, so we were.”

“I didn't know. How could I have known when you never told me? Much later, when we were adults, I thought it could be possible. Although maybe ‘hoped’ would be a more accurate word,” Roland said this almost offhandedly, but Cuthbert’s breath caught in his throat. “Aye, but it was a selfish hope. I realized my feelings for you, and naturally, I hoped you would return them. But I never would have done anything about it. For nothing in those days could have caused me to give up the Tower.” He paused for a moment and then went on: “Of course, a lot has changed since then.” As he spoke this last, he met Cuthbert’s eyes.

“You say true, I say thankya,” Cuthbert said. It ever-pleased Roland to hear Calla speak come out of Cuthbert's mouth. He couldn’t say exactly what it was, but something about it made him feel sentimental. It gave him an almost familiar sense of comfort. It was the feeling of being at home. Not the home he had grown up with, but a new, equally congenial home.

“Cuthbert, I would like to be perfectly clear with you,” Roland said carefully. “I realized that I was in love with you back then, during the latter part of our initial quest for the Tower. And to this day I feel the same. After all of this time, my love for you persists.”

Cuthbert was quiet for a moment. He was truly at a loss for words. Roland sounded as if he was just stating a casual fact, instead of dropping profound, life-altering information. Cuthbert had dreamed of a moment like this since he was little more than a child. Never once did he believe he would actually hear Roland utter words such as these. Not to him, anyway.

“Ah shit, Roland, you kind of stole my thunder just now,” Cuthbert said with a light, teasing laugh. “You always have to be first, don’t you? I was working my way up to telling you my feelings, but nay, I forgot it was Roland of Gilead I was talking to. First to become a gunslinger, first in love-making, and now first in confessing queer feelings of affection for their best friend.”

Roland only looked at him, waiting for a serious response. He knew the humor was Cuthbert’s way of dealing with things, and he didn’t mind waiting. Once the humor was out, Cuthbert would speak true.

“All of that, of course, is my long-winded way of saying that I’m also in love with you,” Cuthbert said. “Have been since Mejis. Mayhap even before that, I just wasn’t aware of it until Mejis.”

For the second time that day, Roland hugged Cuthbert. He was helpless not to. This embrace was closer to the one they shared when Roland had first come through the door. It had the same unrestrained energy, a pure expression of love. After a moment, Roland shifted a little, but didn’t pull away, staying in Cuthbert’s arms. Cuthbert saw his opportunity. He delicately placed a finger under Roland’s chin and lifted it so that they were making eye-contact. He took a second to appreciate the soft, lovestruck expression on Roland’s face, so unlike his normally guarded self. And then, with a glance toward Roland’s parted lips, he leaned in.

They shared a kiss that was hundreds of years in the making.

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