Author's disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply. Pet Fly Productions and UPN own the characters and the series. No copyright infringement intended. No money was made in writing or sharing this story – unless someone wants to pay me and then I'll talk to my lawyers about sharing

Author's notes: WARNING: This is a fantasy AU. In addition, it is a story that reveals itself slowly. If I did this right, you won't have the whole picture until somewhere near the end. Please be patient ... and I hope it was worth the wait.

My most sincere thanks go to Beth, who even though she is leaving for a weekend trip tomorrow at 5:00 a.m. consented to do a quick beta for me. However, I can sometimes get stubborn about things, so any mistakes are strictly my own.

Please read other notes at the beginning of the story.

Notes before reading the story:

Yes, I know this is not "Homecoming." <g> This story is an experiment combining certain elements which I hope to use in "Homecoming." I am very serious when I ask for your feedback to let me know whether or not I succeeded.

First off, I am going to fess up. I will be turning the "One Kind Deed" series into a zine. (Don't worry, the arc will be completed online). However, I should never have pursued a zine until I actually written the entire arc. Be that as it may, my editor asked, "You will actually be showing sex in the story, right?" Being on a high from having just completed "Beloved," I said "Sure."

Well, do you remember my notes from the "One Kind Deed" series? I've been celibate for 14 years ... what in the heck do I know about sex?!?!?!?!?! "On the Way to Heaven" was suppose to be an experiment - of me writing an actual sex scene. Obviously, I failed.

However, what I am hoping to accomplish with this story is an "ache", an "is it too late?" feeling.

Be warned this story has an ambiguous ending on purpose. My beta has predicted you all will lynch me. Hopefully not <smiling and giving you all my best puppy dog eyes>. It also opens very slowly. You will not get all the answers at the beginning of the story. If I did this right, it should be like a puzzle - revealing itself a piece at a time. If you are still confused by the contest by the end of the story, I have notes which I hope will explain it in better detail at the end.

Please, for the sake of "Homecoming," let me know if I accomplished my goals with this story. Thank you.

A TIME TO LIVE

Blair allowed himself a small smile as he watched a gangly adolescent fox poke its nose out from underneath a lilac bush and sniff the air experimentally. Even though the meadow appeared clear, it wasn't taking any chances.

"Good." He nodded in approval. "It might actually live to be an adult."

From his window, he studied every aspect of the small verdant valley as if seeing it for the first time. And perhaps he was. His whole life had been about battle and conflict, survival and strategy, and although he had lived in the valley most of his life, he knew he had never truly appreciated its beauty or the sense of peace it was currently instilling in him.

How like him not to appreciate something until it was too late. How many opportunities had been lost because he had remained silent or simply failed to see them?

But this day, the day of his death, he vowed to amend his ways.

A timid knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and he turned to see his favorite page, a lanky youth of fifteen, enter the room. The boy's nose twitched as he took a look at Blair's dinner tray from the night before and suddenly Blair was reminded of the small fox outside. Perhaps, if all went well this day, Alec would survive to adulthood as well. Small tisking noises interrupted his thoughts and he smiled inwardly at the youth's mother-henning.

"Don't start, Alec," he said as he turned back towards the window.

"He won't be pleased," Alec said in a voice of impending doom.

Blair sighed. Every page he had ever met trembled at the mere mention of James Ellison, First Knight of Cascade Tor. Rumors of the sentinel's abilities were magnified until the ranger had practically reached god-like status in the eyes of the teens hoping to be warriors one day. James didn't seem to mind the whispers as it kept mischievous boys from doing things they shouldn't be doing. Alec, like the others, had yet to voluntarily speak the name aloud for fear of drawing unwanted attention to himself.

Unable to resist the urge to tease the boy, Blair said, "Then maybe you shouldn't tell him."

"O-o-o-kay," the page agreed hastily. "Let me clear the dishes and I'll help with your armor."

"You needn't rush, Alec. We still have plenty of time," Blair said, suddenly very grateful for the loyalty of this young boy. Turning back towards him, he added, "You've been a good page, Alec. The best I've ever had. You'll make a great knight one day."

Stunned by the unexpected praise, Alec could only nod as he took the tray and stumbled awkwardly into the hallway.

Blair stood for a moment gazing at the open door before turning back towards the window. Even though he could not see them, he knew exactly where Kincaid's main army lay, waiting for the competition to end so they could descend upon the castle and destroy those within.

"When did war get to be so civilized?" he whispered to himself as he watched a squad of the enemy's troops drill on the ridge.

"Since the Barons got tired of losing half their troops every time they decided to storm each other's castles," came the quiet reply behind him.

"Hello, James," he smiled softly without turning to face his partner.

"You should have eaten dinner," the warrior scolded quietly.

"Aren't they violating the rules of the game?" Blair asked, trying to divert the older man's attention by pointing to the distant troops. A small part of him laughed inwardly as he imagined the look on Alec's face when he ran into James in the hallway.

"Yes, they are, and that will be addressed when we win."

"When," Blair repeated in a whisper.

"Did you eat anything?" James asked again as he came up behind the younger man, putting his hands on Blair's shoulders and gazing out onto the valley.

"You saw the tray," the guide said simply.

The warrior's rumble of laughter startled him and he turned to meet the dancing blue eyes, curious as to what could cause such mirth.

"Your page ... Alec, isn't it? Saw me, turned tail and ran. I suspect if I had chased after him I would have found him stuffing your dinner into his mouth or lobbing bits and pieces into the urns lining the hallways."

Despite himself, Blair laughed. "Alec's very loyal."

"All your pages have been. When word comes that you're looking for a new one, Joel complains he can't get any work out of the lot until you've chosen."

"A lie, but a sweet one." Blair turned to walk to the center of the room, but James' hand gently gripped his forearm, stopping him.

"No, it's not," the older warrior said quietly as their eyes met. "I always thought that boys only wanted to fight, but the ones which gravitate towards you want to learn how to read and write as well. Simon boasts that he has the smartest knights in the kingdom." And then, as if feeling awkward, added, "I'd be happy to find just one who didn't tremble in my presence."

Blair's laughter rang around the room.

"You were the only page I ever had who wasn't terrified of me," James grinned at the younger man. "Lord, how old were you when you came to me?"

"Ten."

"Ten and angry at the world. I can still see you strutting up and demanding to be my page after your uncle left you at the gates."

"I had good reason."

"Oh yes," James laughed. "You were going to kill every Patriot you could find."

"After I received the proper training, of course," Blair amended.

"And you chose me. . ."

"Because you were a sentinel and the best warrior in the kingdom," the younger man finished for him, falling into the pattern they had established over the years for retelling the story.

"You were so full of anger and hate then, but intelligent and cunning."

"Why, you'll turn my head with such sweet talk," Blair chuckled.

"How old were you when I finally realized you were a guide?" James asked, shaking his head over the memory.

"Let's see, I would have been fifteen."

"The Battle of Rancor Tor," they said together.

Blair smiled when he realized James was trying to take his mind off the upcoming fight. Looking at the sun rising beyond his window, he knew they had a little more time before he had to prepare, and he realized he wanted to spend these last minutes with his most beloved friend.

"Your first and only battle as Keeper of the Flag."

"I was so angry. I wanted to fight."

"It was a very great honor Baron Simon bestowed upon you. Besides, pages don't fight."

"Unless the battle encompasses them."

"You were always hoping for that, weren't you?"

"Constantly," Blair laughed.

"You should have been more careful about what you wished for," James said quietly. "To this day, I still don't know how Lord Kincaid's troops cut the Baron's personal guard off from the rest of our forces."

"I don't remember," Blair shrugged. "One moment we were watching the progress of the battle, the next we were overwhelmed. However, our warriors whittled down their forces quickly."

"Giving their lives as they did so," James nodded, remembering old friends, long departed. "I can still see the Baron's horse go down, trapping him beneath the beast and you standing over him, using the flag as a lance, which," he added with a laugh, "was highly improper."

Blair looked up into James' face as the sentinel stared off into the distance. "I could hear you crying out my name when. . ."

"You went down, but you had given the Baron enough time to free himself and pull one of the attackers off his horse. Simon's bellow of defiance boomed across the valley as he pulled you up into his arms and rode to safety."

"All I remember was his muttering, 'Drop the damn pole.'"

"Why didn't you?"

"Because you threatened to blister my hide if I lost the damn thing," he reminded him.

"Oh, yes." James grinned, pretending to have just remembered that fact.

"And by that time you had routed the rest of the forces, so we needed the flag for our victory celebration."

"You were so stubborn," the sentinel said, shaking his head. "And so broken," he added in a whisper. "I never thought you'd survive your injuries."

"How could I not? Simon rode into the courtyard and announced to all assembled that if I survived, he would make me a knight."

"For the courage you showed by not only remaining, but protecting him while he was down," James added, knowing Blair would never recount the Baron's reasoning himself.

"How could I die then?" the younger asked with a grin. "Besides, you wouldn't let me die as I recall."

"How could I? I had just discovered that my protective feelings for you were not only because you were my page, but my guide as well. Lord, I wanted to give you a piece of my mind for deceiving me."

"The deceit was not malicious," Even after all the years which had passed, Blair still felt a pang of guilt for having pursued his own vengeance for so long instead of learning how to guide a sentinel as was his destiny.

"The Baron would have taken you into his training program knowing you were a guide."

"Yes, but you wouldn't have. You would have insisted I go to the university for a proper education," Blair reminded his sentinel with a soft smile as he laid the palm of his hand against James' cheek. He surprised himself with such boldness, but was even more surprised when the older warrior leaned into his touch.

"No, I suppose you're right."

"And by the time you found out, it was too late."

"You were already an equal."

"Hardly," Blair laughed.

James looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead asked, "Did you finally relinquish your hate, Guide?"

"Yes. Years ago."

"How?" the sentinel whispered.

"Through discipline and honor. You gave me purpose: a reason to survive beyond revenge."

They stood as silent as sculptures, until Blair swallowed hard and whispered, "I will not fail you, James."

The older warrior nodded, his voice dropping to a caressing whisper, breathed on his guide's cheek, "You know how much I need you, Blair. You are my right hand. I would be lost without your humor and your intelligence."

Bringing up his other hand to cover James' left cheek, the guide whispered, "Another sweet lie." Releasing the sentinel's face, he turned to the rack which held his armor, but was stopped by a gentle grasp on his shoulder.

"Don't," Blair begged in a whisper as he leaned his cheek against the hand on his shoulder. "Let me live in hope."

"Hope?" James asked, barely above a whisper.

"That the feelings are still there when I get back."

The older warrior wrapped his arms around Blair from behind. "You will come back."

"Or?" Blair asked, falling back into their routine of carefully guarded words.

"I'll kick your butt from here to Pacifica."

Blair smiled at the empty threat as he permitted himself to lean back into the solid chest.

"Walters will be easy to beat," James said conversationally, not allowing the younger man to move away from him. "He has already won two rounds by beating Owens and Lanner and will be cocky. He may be large, but he thinks like an ox. He tends to favor his left side, but you already knew that." Blair nodded. "Lash is a coward, but he doesn't have the intelligence to cheat. However, watch out for his lunges. Those damned long arms of his have saved his life more than once. Brackett will be your toughest opponent. You will be tired and he is crafty and, more importantly, he cheats."

"You realize if I win. . ."

"When," James corrected sternly.

"When I win -- that Kincaid will not turn away. He has never lost a competition. He will still try to breach the walls."

"I know, and for that reason the archers will be posted on the precipices. My first concern is getting you to safety after you've won. Once Brackett is down, immediately come back to the castle. Don't wait and don't turn your back on their forces."

Blair nodded.

James released him and Blair turned, gazing into the dark blue eyes which promised so much. Finally, James turned to the armor rack. The younger man had already stripped off his civilian clothes by the time the Sentinel turned back towards him with the under padding which would protect his guide from the chain mail's pinch.

Piece by piece, James fastened each section to Blair's body, checking and double checking straps and buckles to make sure they were secure. Blair found himself distracted by the warmth of James' gentle touch and bit the inside of his cheek to bring himself back to reality, though a small part of him mourned opportunities lost. Blair chided himself sternly. This was not the time for daydreaming. His fate had been decided as soon as he had drawn the white stone.

Alec cleared his throat as he entered the room and Blair smiled as he watched the boy steel up his nerve. Blair shook his head slightly, wishing the boy would give himself the opportunity to know the man of whom he was so terrified. James ignored the page, but Blair could see the mischievous grin radiate over the warrior's face as he bent down to secure the shin guard.

A resolve burned brightly within the guide and he called to his page. "Alec."

"Yes, sir," the boy said, standing to attention.

"How well do you know the maze beneath the castle?"

"Like the back of my hand, sir."

"Do you know the path which leads to the mountain lake?"

Alec fidgeted, eyes down, face flushed with guilt.

"For God's sake, Alec. Now is not the time," Blair scolded, knowing full well the mountain lake was off-limits, but also knowing, having been a page himself, that every boy in the castle had followed the dangerous winding tunnel at least once.

Alec nodded nervously, his eyes never leaving James's back.

Blair stepped back from his friend and turned to the rack, pulling out a small sword, his first. Withdrawing it from the sheath, he turned it slightly, so Alec could see it was still an instrument of war and not just a reminder of days past.

"Kneel," he said quietly.

The shaking page knelt before him, even as James stood up and gave him a questioning glance, which he ignored. Tapping the boy once on the right shoulder with his sword and then on the left, he said, "Rise, Squire Alec, and receive your first assignment."

Alec rose, his chest puffing out in pride, his gaze filled with questions.

"The Baron will never go back on his word even though he realizes Kincaid has no intention of keeping his. If I should lose, he will open the gates."

Alec nodded, terrified of the possibility, but spoke quietly, "My place is beside you through all things."

Blair shook his head. Alec opened to his mouth to protest, but the younger warrior laid a finger on the boy's lips to silence him.

"The way to the mountain lake is treacherous. More than one page has been lost through the tunneled maze. It is difficult for one to make it on his own..."

"But. . . but. . ."

"Think of how much more difficult it will be to lead the children of the castle to safety."

Alec stood stunned before him.

"You won't have much time, Alec," James added seriously, nodding his head in approval of his guide's plan. "You must leave now in order to gather them up. Instruct the older children to collect food. If we have not come for you within 72 hours, you must take the children to Baron Kelso's keep at Rainier Tor. He will take them in and raise them as his own. You, Squire, will then be responsible for their safety until each and every one of them has reached adulthood. Do you understand the gravity of the task your master has laid upon your shoulders?"

"Yes, sir," the page's voice quavered.

"And what do you have to say to him granting you this responsibility?" James asked with a smile, ignoring the pinch Blair gave him for teasing his squire.

"Don't die." Alec looked at Blair and pleaded again, "Please don't die."

Blair nodded and said quietly, "Go now, Alec. You don't have much time."

The squire ran for the door, sword in hand, then stopped, turned, ran back to his master, hugged him fiercely and ran for the door again.

"You really should have boxed his ears for that," James said quietly.

"Alec's the closest thing I've ever had to a son," Blair whispered, unable to look at his friend.

"With all the pages you've trained over the years?"

"Yes."

"How old is he now?"

"Fifteen."

"And when did you get him?"

"When he was ten."

"And why did you choose one so young?"

"Because he walked up and demanded that I teach him to fight."

James turned the younger man to face him. "And has he relinquished his hate?"

Blair nodded, "Through discipline, training and honor. Your legacy will continue."

James grunted and nodded as he made one last check of the straps, his head down in an effort to hide the moistness gathering in his eyes.

"I don't want you to watch, James," Blair said as he adjusted his sheath.

"What?" the older warrior demanded.

"Stay in the bailey. Be there at the door when I return, guarding my back, as usual."

James hesitated for a long moment, then nodded. Blair started for the door, but turned and put a hand on the older warrior's chest. "Stay until I have reached the courtyard."

James opened his mouth to protest, but Blair silenced him as he had silenced his page.

"When I come back, James Ellison, I will take you as my husband." The words, while spoken arrogantly, did nothing to hide the shy questioning eyes.

James' eyes widened, then a soft smile graced his face. "What makes you think I will take you as my husband?"

"You will," Blair said with a tender smile.

James took his guide's hand in his, holding it tight, pressing it to his lips and closed his eyes. "Now is a hell of a time to tell me you love me, Blair."

"I know," the younger man nodded, closing his own eyes.

I've known for years," James admitted.

"I've known that too," Blair whispered back.

"Why. . ."

"Because I will not go to my. . ."

"Don't," James commanded in a harsh whisper.

"... without saying it," Blair finished quietly.

A silence stood between them as James squeezed him hand.

"I will not stop being a warrior. My position has never interfered with my duties as a guide before and I doubt they will in the future," Blair said firmly. "I want that understood now."

"I wouldn't want you any other way," James said, finally looking the younger man in the face.

"Be prepared, husband. I will take what is mine when I win."

James brushed his lips over his guide's inner wrist before releasing him. "Don't keep me waiting, Husband. Don't ... keep me waiting."

-End-

Notes:
In case the contest didn't make any sense -- The rules are relatively simple. Three combatants from each side are chosen by lottery (basically by drawing a white stone out of a kettle of stones). The combatants then fight each other one-on-one to the death.

In this particular instance, Simon's side lost the first two rounds. In order to win the competition, Blair must beat all three combatants from Kincaid's side.