"Congratulations, my friend."

Lorlen, who had been standing by the window, turned around to face the newcomer in the room. "Just when I was hoping for a moment's rest," he said with a smile. "Your timing is impeccable as ever, Akkarin."

"I brought you a gift," the High Lord replied from the doorway, producing a bottle from his black robes, "but if you're not going to invite me in, I'm sure it can wait."

Lorlen watched as his friend, with a barely concealed smirk and a raised eyebrow, turned around slowly as if to leave, and then let out a laugh. Wiping the mirth from his face but leaving a twinkle in his eye, he bowed his head demurely. "I apologise most sincerely. Do come in and take a seat, High Lord."

"My thanks, Administrator."

As Akkarin turned to take a seat, Lorlen wondered how long it would take for him to get used to his new title. Having spent the last couple of years as his predecessor's assistant, it was strange now to hold the position himself, even though he knew that it was a logical, and often followed, progression. Administrator Lorlen. He ran it over his tongue once again.

"You have a comfortable apartment here, Administrator," Akkarin said coolly, looking around the room.

Lorlen sat down across from him, and kept his expression neutral. "Yes, I find it much to my satisfaction. Unfortunately, I fear that I will no longer have much time to spend in here."

"You may be right. Lord Barlen drew my attention to the long hours he was forced to keep on more than one occasion."

"Lord Barlen was a diligent worker, High Lord."

"Yes." Akkarin paused, appraising Lorlen with a steady gaze. "I think he chose his assistant well."

Lorlen held his gaze for a while, and then laughed. It was a game they often played and which Akkarin invariably won. He had always been able to maintain an expressionless composure long after Lorlen's cracked. Lorlen had never been good at stilted small talk, and Akkarin was well aware of the fact.

"You win. I can't keep this up. You know full well exactly who chose me to be Barlen's assistant."

Akkarin also dropped his mask, and his lips curled upwards slowly. "Still, it was a good decision, was it not, my friend?"

"Perhaps, but you can drop that smirk." Lorlen smiled as Akkarin's eyebrows rose again. "You mentioned a gift?"

"Ah, yes." Akkarin placed the bottle on the table. "You have glasses, I assume?"

"Anuren Dark, eh? I know you just wanted to drink it yourself, and decided to find yourself some high quality company to go with it. I'm sure I could find a glass for myself, but whether or not I can stretch to two..."

He stopped as two glasses came flying from the sideboard and landed on the table in front of him.

"You were saying?" Akkarin asked, with the smirk firmly restored to his lips.

Lorlen shook his head with amusement. He watched his friend pour the wine with an affectionate smile. They had been close friends since their first day at the University, and had done almost everything together. Their powers had both developed quickly, they had each proven to be both strong and skilled, and here they were, both comparatively young, holding the two most important positions in the Guild. Lorlen thought the small pride he felt was more than excusable.

He was glad that they had remained close through it all. Akkarin's was a friendship he truly valued, and he knew he would trust his friend with his life. There were times when Lorlen wondered what would have happened to their friendship had one outstripped the other. It was true that he had spent quite a lot of time in Akkarin's shadow, particularly after Akkarin had returned from his travels, but yet he managed to hold his own easily enough and remained one of the strongest magicians in the Guild. He rarely felt any jealousy or envy for Akkarin, and they had always treated each other as equals. Nevertheless, he sometimes turned his mind to what would have happened had he shown no more than average strength or skill. Would they have been able to maintain the relationship he so treasured? Akkarin was ambitious. Would he have had time for someone so much weaker than himself?

Shaking his head, Lorlen dismissed these thoughts. Now was certainly not the time. He lifted his glass to Akkarin with a smile, and took a sip from it. He leaned back in his chair, and enjoyed the moment of companionable silence.

"So," Akkarin began after a while, "we have now achieved the Guild domination we planned. Perhaps we should take advantage of it before anyone else can stop us."

"That might be wise. Our plans are unlikely to be approved of by many of the Higher Magicians."

Akkarin chuckled. "No. I can't imagine Jerrik would be very happy to see classes cancelled whenever the sun shines."

"Nor Lord Sarrin if Chemistry were taken from the University Studies for being pointless and boring."

"I seem to remember we also decided that the novices and magicians should swap quarters."

"Because novices have tests and therefore must work harder than magicians who have no responsibilities," Lorlen finished with a laugh. He wondered if all novices had as much fun as he and Akkarin had had. The times they had spent by the spring instead of in class were among his favourite memories.

"I miss those days," Akkarin said, suddenly sober, "when we were young and carefree, and our only worries were how to get through the mid-year Alchemy tests without drawing attention to just how many lessons we had skipped."

Lorlen regarded his friend closely. Was that truly a hint of regret he had seen briefly? It was true that the High Lord Akkarin was in many ways very different from the Akkarin he had known as a novice: as Lord Balkan had pointed out, he had gained a lot of maturity in the course of his travels. He had also grown much more reserved and distant. Lorlen wondered again what had happened in the five years that Akkarin had spent away from the Guild, and why he so seldom talked of them, even to his closest friend.

"I miss them too," Lorlen replied softly. "But when I think of all that I have now, what I have learnt and achieved since then, I cannot bring myself to wish myself back there." He smiled wryly. "Even if I do find that graduated magicians have far more responsibilities than I thought at the time."

"We've certainly grown up," Akkarin said, with a familiar half-smile. "I wonder if our little game board is still by the spring."

"I doubt it's been discovered. It was well concealed."

"Perhaps one day I shall go back and look for it."

Lorlen barely noticed the time slip by as they reminisced together. It was at times like this that he knew with certainty that, although Akkarin may have changed over the years, the young Akkarin had not been entirely lost. Just buried. Lorlen felt a hint of satisfaction that he was still able to bring this out of his old friend. It occurred to him that he had probably also changed. In which case, perhaps Akkarin was thinking the same about him. This caused him to smile.

"I'm starting to feel as if we're a long married couple," Lorlen said with a little amusement.

"With a large brood of unruly children," Akkarin added, a smile twisting his lips.

Lorlen laughed. "Our little family." He frowned in mock consternation. "You realise that makes one of us a woman?"

"Oh, without a doubt I'm the father," Akkarin said hastily. "I am, after all, the head of the household. I oversee everything, I have the respect and obedience of the children, and I don't involve myself in their squabbles. That, my friend, is the job of the mother."

"But you're the one with the long hair," Lorlen retorted. "If either of us looks like the mother, it's you."

Akkarin snorted softly.

"That has to be the weakest argument I've heard from you, Lorlen. Perhaps then I could argue that blue robes look much more becoming on a woman, while black is most definitely a manly colour. Besides, I understood you were planning to grow your hair now anyway."

Lorlen smiled ruefully. "It's not easy to argue something when I know you're right but my pride is at stake."

"Pride, Lorlen?" Akkarin watched him over the rim of his glass, his sly smile almost hidden by the dark wine. "There's nothing wrong with being effeminate. Indeed, it never seemed to bother you before."

Lorlen raised his eyebrows. "Effeminate? Do I need to remind you of the time I found you in a dress?"

He smothered a triumphant smile as Akkarin winced.

"Truce?"

"If you pour me another glass."

Akkarin filled Lorlen's glass, and then topped up his own. He raised it and looked across at Lorlen with a fond smile. "To marriage and our little family."

Lorlen repeated the toast, and took a sip.

"And may we remain a happy couple," he added. "My parents used to tell me that the key to a successful marriage was trust and understanding. So may we argue but forgive, reconcile any conflicting interests and have no secrets from each other."

Akkarin looked down at his wine glass.

"All married couples have secrets, Lorlen, but that doesn't mean they can't trust each other."

"Perhaps you're right, but I can't think of anything that I would want to hide from you. You know I trust you completely."

"And I you," Akkarin replied softly. "I hope it may always remain so."

Lorlen glanced at Akkarin, who was still examining his swirling wine as if to glean some long forgotten truth from its depths. "You speak as if you have reason to believe it may be otherwise, my friend."

Akkarin lifted his shoulders lightly. "Time passes, people change. It is unwise to declare anything permanently, or to make a promise you may not be able to keep." At this, he looked up. "I am sorry, Lorlen. I do not wish to dampen the mood."

It was Lorlen's turn to shrug. "It is getting late. Night has an unfortunate habit of bringing sobering thoughts in its wake."

Akkarin glanced outside. "Yes. It is a time for dark thoughts and dark deeds," he said quietly. A half-smile emerged on his face. "But in here we have light and warmth. Let us think no more of them."

Lorlen yawned and drained the rest of his glass. "Will you excuse me if I retire for the night, my friend? I am exhausted, and I fear that tomorrow will be but the first of many long days."

Akkarin stood up. "Of course. It was thoughtless of me to keep you so long. I may drop in tomorrow to see how you're getting along, if you have the time?"

"I look forward to it."

Akkarin's black robes rustled a little on the carpet as he walked across the room. Lorlen followed him to the door.

"Good night, Akkarin."

The High Lord nodded in reply. "Good night, wife."

With a final smirk he turned and was gone.

Review? Please? I wanted this to be mostly light-hearted but with a few darker overtones of what is to come, highlighted by the juxtaposition with the otherwise pleasant atmosphere. Did I succeed?