Arron suppressed a yawn as he sat in the library reading an ancient tome about the medical benefits of leeching. Archmaester Alekyne had assigned a twenty page treatise on the subject as one of his requirements for granting Arron his silver link. Arron had been galled by the assignment, he knew for a fact that several other students had been given far less extensive assignments. Coincidentally, all of those students had also been of noble birth. If the old man wants to test me, let him. I'll show him just how brilliant I am.

Still, while he'd felt confident at the outset of the project, he was feeling less so as he poured over the weighty book in front of him. Looking up and out the nearest window, he saw that the sun was dipping under the horizon. He'd come here after his midday meal, he'd been here for longer than he thought. Looking at his meager notes, Arron frowned, it looked like he would be here longer still. It doesn't matter. I'll be here all night if I have to.

He dipped his quill by in the inkwell and began to take down notes.

"There you are."

Or he would have, if Elric hadn't come around the corner and dropped down onto the bench next to him. One look at the Northman was enough for Arron to tell that his mood hadn't improved. His usually clean shaven face had grown a short beard, and his long black hair hung around his shoulders, where usually he had it tied in a horse's tail.

Archmaester Karlon's lecture on his journey across Essos hadn't been all that Elric had dreamed it would be. Karlon had explained how all the more famous tales of magic and sorcery from Essos were actually just tricks. Illusions that took advantage of special powders and slight of hand. Red Priests didn't have any special power to light weapons ablaze. The Warlocks of Qarth didn't have any visions of the future. Karlon even went so far as to say that the Shadowbinders of Asshai didn't even exist anymore, as he hadn't found a single person who could claim such powers as were told across the Narrow Sea.

Elric had been furious, sulking away from Arron after the lecture with only muttered curses as answers to his questioning where his friend was going. The plans that Elric had spoken of for that evening had been forgotten about. Arron had been frustrated, but this behavior wasn't totally out of the ordinary for Elric. He was prone to fits of melancholy and anger when his expectations weren't met. Arron had learned to simply give the man space and wait for him to calm down. This instance, however, was worse than any other Arron had been witness to, lasting almost a week.

But Elric had sought him out at last, which meant that he was finally coming out of it. Even if he didn't look particularly happy, it was still a step in the right direction. "Leeches, eh?" He asked, his tone clear what he thought on the subject. For whatever reason, Elric had never had much interest in medicine. He'd forged links in history and the study of other cultures. He'd dragged Arron into forging his Iron link, which Arron had found woefully uninteresting regardless of how fascinated Elric had been.

Yet when it came to the silver link for medicine, Elric couldn't be bothered. "You do know that you'll have to forge your silver link at some point or another. There's not much demand for Maesters who don't know how to heal their lords." Elric merely hummed noncommittally in response.

"Come on, we're going out. I'm hungry." Arron had wanted to protest, he had work to do, he'd barely made a dent in his research. But when Elric spoke, Arron found himself listening. So with only a grimace as his complaint, Arron gathered his notes and made preparations to go out for the evening.

Within the hour, Arron and Elric were sitting in a crowded tavern, dipping bread into bowls of stew. They were mostly broth, and the bread wasn't particular well made either. But the meager coin that Acolyte's made writing wills and letters for the citizens of Oldtown didn't afford them the luxury of saffron covered lamb, or suckling pig. But as the cold winds swept through Oldtown, the stew warmed their bodies, and the cheap ale that they ordered seemed to improve Elric's mood.

At one point, when his cheeks had become pink, he began to smile wickedly at Arron. "I figured it out, Arron." He said, leaning forward and whispering, causing Arron to do the same. "I figured out their little secret." Elric's voice was a deep timbre, almost like a cat's purr.

"What are you talking about, whose secret?" Elric gestured for him to come closer, Arron was practically standing to lean closer. Elric put his mouth right next to Arron's ear, till Arron could feel the other man's breath, smell the ale. After several moments of silence, Elric whispered his answer.

"The Conclave." The black haired Northman pulled back, giving Arron a conspiratorial smile, before taking another slug of ale. "They told Karlon to lie about what he found on his journey. They don't want us studying magic. It's so obvious!"

Arron rolled his eyes, of course that's what this is about. "Elric, the Conclave isn't conspiring to keep any Acolytes from studying magic. You're free to try and earn your link in Valyrian Steel just like any of us. There's no magic, that's the truth of the world." Elric frowned at him, scowled was more like it. It was a look that Arron had never seen before, those piercing deep blue eyes, shadowed with drink and anger. For a moment, Arron feared what Elric was going to say, what he was going to do. But then Elric's gaze softened, and instead he shook his head.

"You poor fool, Arron. You believe everything they tell you? Alekyne with his snark, and Raymun with his scowls? Don't you understand? They don't want baseborn men like ourselves to have access to any kind of power. They want to hoard it all for themselves, them and the lords they serve. But Karlon is different!" Elric had a frenzied look in his eyes as he ranted, "He went out in search of magic, in search of power. Against the Conclave's wishes, he spent five years traveling the world. And when he returned, they kept him from telling the truth. Made him act out their play like a mummer. But they can't silence him fully. I'll become his student, and once I've proven myself he'll share his secrets with me."

To Arron it seemed as though Elric were more voicing his drunken thoughts than actually speaking to him. Sighing, the younger man stood up. "Come on, you're drunk. We should get back and go to sleep." Elric gave his friend another displeased look, but he acquiesced all the same. They left the small tavern and made there way out into the cold night.

In the summer, Oldtown was bustling with people at all hours of the day. But as winter had set in, few people had the desire to be out in the cold dark of the night. Aside from the odd patrol from the city watch, or other tavern goers returning home for the night, there were few people on the road. Which suit Arron just fine. Elric was leaning on him, and the taller man's weight was difficult to maneuver with, as he seemed to have little interest in walking at the same pace as Arron.

Suddenly, Elric was moving away from Arron. Arron tried to grab him, but his grip wasn't good enough and Elric was disappearing down an alleyway. "Come on," He slurred, "I know a shortcut." Arron hurried to catch up with him, worried that he'd hurt himself somehow.

"Elric, there's no short cut. This isn't even the ri-" Before he could finish, Arron was pressed against the stone wall to his side. He could feel the cold stone against his back, the cooler wind blowing through his clothing, and the weight of Elric's arm pressed into his chest. But most of all, Arron was aware of Elric's mouth covering his, and Elric's tongue sliding between his lips...