Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

How had he let it come to this?

In his life, he had learned that no one just did things out of the goodness of their hearts. Payment was to be made up front, or you’ll end up getting swindled.

Yes, he was jaded; but experience had made him this way. Nothing is given to you, it must be bought or earned.

So why was he the one breaking that rule? When did he start making sacrifices?

Warning people against danger was one thing. Easy really. Job done, if they don’t listen that’s on them- but putting himself in danger to save them? That was something that fools in fairytales did. Not him.

Or so he had thought.

And now he’s on the floor, gasping through the taste of blood in his mouth as Marcille leans over him, speaking words that sound distant even to his sensitive ears.

Had he been pushed underwater? No, that didn’t make any sense. They were in a brick strewn corridor, nowhere near any bodies of water. So then why did he feel like he was drowning?

Something warm pools its way under his pinky, slithering around the last knuckle where it lays on the ground. He clenches his fingers, feeling the liquid gather between the digits, shuttering at the gross feeling of it cooling rapidly against his skin.

He looks down at it, movements slow, and once again wonders if he really isn’t underwater.

On his hand, the liquid is dark and red and thick and-

Oh, Right. Blood.

He remembers this feeling, of bleeding out. His first death he had been stabbed through the throat by a mimic, not easy to forget. And that wasn’t the only time; but those had all been his own fault for being so reckless.

This time he’d shoved someone out of the way. He had done it intentionally, and he doesn’t understand why.

Now they’ll have to go on without him. There’s no way they can risk a backlash if Marcille tries to resurrect him, and he can tell by the blackness creeping its way around his vision that the wound is fatal and he doesn’t have very long before he bleeds out.

Man that sucks.

They’d be fine right? Laios is nothing if not stubborn, though lacking a bit in the common sense department, but Marcille could keep him reigned in somewhat. Senshi is strong, and wise to the ways of the dungeon. Maybe they wouldn’t miss him, maybe someone would come along to drag him back to the surface. He could finally go and retire, see his daughters again, open his shop and live the rest of his life in peace.

But what if they don’t make it? What if they get caught up in some trap and have to start all over again? What would happen to Falin? Could someone come back after being digested? Was that really possible?

A sudden fear creeps over him, closing in like the very real chill of shock and blood loss. She could die for good and it would be all his fault. He shouldn’t care, but he does. They have to know that he didn’t want this to happen, before it’s too late.

He grabs at Marcille’s arm, small hand slipping over the soft cotton of her sleeve before he catches the cloth between his fingers, blood coloring the blue an ugly purple. She stops talking mid sentence, mouth hanging open as she directs her attention away from his wound, green eyes wide with fear.

Maybe someday he’ll tell her she’s pretty, but more likely what will come out is that she’s pretty annoying. But now isn’t the time for any of that.

“M’sorry…” the words bubble past a mouthful of blood and he chokes on it, ignoring the feeling of it running down his chin as he coughs.

Marcille just stares at him for a moment dumbfounded before her brows scrunch and a fire lights in her eyes.

“Oh no! No, nope! You’ll be fine! Stop talking and save your strength!”

“Marcille-”

“I said stop talking!”

He doesn’t really have a choice in the matter now, his strength is fading fast. He can’t hold on any longer and his hand drops from her arm, eyelids slipping closed of their own accord.

“No, hey! Chilchuck, look at me!” She sounds panicked, and he can just see her leaning over him, her free hand cupping his cheek and turning his head towards her.

Someone speaks on his other side, matter of fact and calm as a muscular arm lifts him under the shoulders. He decides it must be the same person.

“Alright kid, I need you to open up. This is going to taste horrible but it’ll keep you with us for the time being.”

Only Senshi calls him that, and while he feels a tick of annoyance, he doesn’t have the energy to do much else than open his mouth. Either this kills him or the blood loss, he’s not going to be picky.

Whatever it is, it’s warm, liquid, and extremely bitter, managing to overpower the metallic taste of blood. He gags once but manages to keep it down, eyes closed and fully leaning into the arm under his back now.

How embarrassing, being held like this. He hasn’t felt this way since he was a child.

A tingling feeling washes over him and the pain begins to fade into the background. He’s exhausted, his thoughts covered in a heavy fog, his limbs no longer cooperating as he feels his head drop back.

“Is he going to be okay?” A voice, concerned and light.

“He’ll be fine missy. Let’s get him somewhere safe and then you can use some of your magic on him for good measure.” A rumbling voice next to his ear.

“Here, let me.” Steadfast, young and determined.

Suddenly it feels like he’s floating, being lifted into the sky. He lets himself go.

Chapter Text

“Marcille!”

That’s the only warning she gets before Chilchuck backs into her, causing her to lose her footing.

“Woah, hey!”

Something pulls hard on her dress and she looks down to see a single disgusting claw clamped tightly to the hem, which could only belong to…

Gross, a scorpion…

Without thinking she puts her whole weight into slamming the base of her staff down on it, squarely between two plates of its exoskeleton. There’s a disgusting squelching noise, then the hell-bug releases her dress and drops limp to the floor.

She only gets a moment of satisfaction at being useful before something else catches her eye. Drops of blood litter the floor, red humanoid blood, out of place from the usual greens or purples of insects.

Marcille glances nervously toward Laios and Senshi, both caught up in battle with a group of skeletons, but the both of them seem unharmed.

That didn’t make any sense…They were both fine, and she was fine, so then-?

Chilchuck falls back against her and she gasps and scrambles to grab him, throwing her staff into the crook of her arm to free her hands.  He doesn’t weigh much but he’s still dead weight and she almost drops him before securing a grip under his arms and lowering him to the ground.

“Chilchuck!”

She doesn’t have to search to find his wound, there’s a large patch of blood blooming from a hole in his leather armor, either hitting or just missing a lung- she can’t tell. The blood isn’t stopping, already saturating his shirt and forming a small puddle underneath his side. Marcille bites the inside of her cheek, then puts her hand over the wound, steadying her staff and trying to remember the right words for a spell to stop the bleeding.

She doesn’t notice when the clatter of weapons stops, doesn’t really notice anything until Chilchuck grabs at her weakly, choking out a bloody apology that sends ice through her veins. Somehow it sounds like a goodbye.

She won’t let that happen.

“Oh no! No, nope! You’ll be fine, just stop talking!”

Chilchuck’s brow furrows and he frowns before trying again,

“Marcille…”

“I said stop talking!”

The hand holding her sleeve loses its grip and Marcille watches in terror as her companion’s eyes lose focus, head lolling to the side as he starts to fall unconscious. She panics.

“No! Hey, Chilchuck look at me!”

She’s gentle but urgent as she places a palm to his cheek and turns his head, healing spell all but forgotten. She can barely see the sliver of brown of his irises in the torchlight, his eyes nearly closed.

“Here, let me take a look at him.”

Senshi appears as if out of nowhere and Marcille jumps at his voice. He sounds so assured that she only hesitates a moment before moving back and giving him space, though her heart still feels like it’s lodged in her throat.

She watches as he pulls a flask out of his bag, kneeling and lifting Chilchuck into an almost seated position. While he doesn’t give any reaction to the movement, he still drinks from the flask when Senshi asks him to and Marcille lets out a small breath she didn’t know she was holding, wincing in sympathy when he gags at the taste of whatever it is.

She shuffles forward on her knees so that she’s beside them, clutching her staff in anticipation while trying to examine their friend’s wound. The bleeding seems to have stopped, and she shoots a quizzical glance towards Senshi when the injury begins to scab over before their eyes, but doesn’t get to ask because Chilchuck falls limp as a ragdoll in the same moment.

She grips her staff tighter.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Senshi doesn’t look away from Chilchuck, swiping a meaty thumb over his chin to clear some of the blood. He looks…fond, but in a sad way.

“He’ll be fine missy. Let’s get him somewhere safe and then you can use some of your magic on him for good measure.”

Laios steps up from behind Marcille, setting a burlap sack down beside them with a nod to Senshi.

“Here, let me.”

He drops to one knee and holds out his arms, expression leaving no room for argument. Senshi dips his head and loops his free arm under Chilchuck’s knees to lift him, making sure his head is resting against the knight’s shoulder so that he doesn’t knock into anything.

Laios stands, moving slowly so that he doesn’t jar his charge. He watches as small puffs of breath leave phantoms of fog on his armor plating, finding a good amount of reassurance in it.

He resists the urge to say it out loud- that he’s always wanted to lift Chilchuck like this. He just wishes it would have been under better circumstances.

Chapter Text

Senshi has seen a lot in his long life. The good and the bad, and the way that time exposes the nature of a being with unyielding patience.

So he knew it was only a matter of time before something like this would happen.

While not really making much of impression when he had first joined them, Senshi had always been keen to keep an eye on the smallest member of their group.

For one, he looked too young to be there- but Senshi had rarely encountered a half-foot that didn’t, so that could mean nothing- regardless, he couldn’t help but to think of him as a kid.

Chilchuck tended to keep to himself, always sure to watch from a safe distance when the party dealt with monsters. He wasn’t there to fight after all, and after seeing the way he had expertly handled locks and traps, Senshi was sure that there was more to him than he let on.

Not to mention the fact that before the incident with the oil trap, Senshi had never seen Chilchuck get so worked up. Marcille had been puzzled until Laios had explained it to her, but Senshi had already concluded that his anger really had come from a place of concern. Chilchuck genuinely wanted to keep everyone safe, and would not have their blood on his hands if he could help it.

In short, he cared about them but didn’t know how to express as much through anything but his actions.

So it really was just a matter of time.

Senshi had heard Chilchuck call out to Marcille, glancing over his shoulder while blocking a skeleton’s sword just in time to see it happen.

The two had unknowingly stepped back too close to a scorpion’s nest and Chilchuck had spotted it before Marcille, pushing her back in time to take its oversized stinger straight to the chest.

This provided the push Senshi needed to finish his fight, breaking the bones down under his hammer so there was no chance they could rise again, then quickly dispatching the ghost it rode in on. Laios had yet to see what had happened, but was quick to deal his own skeleton.

When it was over, Senshi had calmly recruited Laios to collect the body of the dead scorpion, having an inkling that Marcille hadn’t fully connected the dots yet and that they would need an antidote soon.

She was panicking, so he calmly stepped in at that point, prepared for such emergencies from his time living in the dungeon on his own.

Which is how they find themselves in one of his safe-rooms. It’s nothing special, probably used as a storage room at one time, but it’s out of the way and over the years Senshi has managed to pack the corners with basic supplies, even utilizing a hole in the ceiling to vent the smoke from a fire in case he needed one to fight off the cold of the stone floor and walls.

Marcille flutters around the space like a cagey bird, never stopping in one spot for more time than it takes to complete her tasks, all the while circling back to check on Chilchuck. She has so far managed to set out a sleeping roll, rummage through all of the piles of materials in the room for bandages, and then confiscated Laios’ pack to steal one of his undershirts.

Laios is far more calm in comparison, waiting patiently for her to finish smoothing out the bedding before settling down next to it. He puts Chilchuck down but doesn’t let him go quite yet, still holding him under the shoulders so that they can check him over without jostling him too much.

Senshi takes that as his cue, and kneels with a grunt on the other side of the bedding. Working together, they divest the half-foot of his scarf, armor and undershirt, tossing them to the side to be mended at a later time.

Marcille appears over Senshi’s shoulder, Laios’ shirt and her staff held close to her chest as she chews on her lip, green eyes alight with concern. She doesn’t step too close, just hovers nearby as if waiting for an invitation. Senshi will give her an opening in a moment but for now…

As he expected the wound has closed nicely, not quite healed but at least scabbed over and not bleeding as it had earlier. He can tell by way Chilchuck’s breath rattles that the scorpion had managed to just knick his lung, but that it isn’t anything major. They would keep an eye on it though, just in case.

His real concern for the time being was the hidden killer.

A flush has already swept its way over Chilchuck’s face, small beads of sweat forming on his brow. Senshi places the back of his hand over his forehead, and sure enough the kid is already sporting quite the temperature.

While potent- to any of the taller races a scorpion’s venom is non-lethal. It’s meant to incapacitate its prey, not kill it. In a place where food could be scarce, it’s a handy way to make sure its prey doesn’t escape, giving the scorpion just enough time to score the killing blow.

Unfortunately Chilchuck is a lot smaller than a scorpions usual prey.

Senshi sighs, then braces himself on his knees to stand before giving Chilchuck a pat on the head. He can only imagine what the kid would have done had he been awake for that one.

“Laios, see what you can do about getting that wound covered up, I’m going to start taking care of this,” he grabs the sack with the scorpion in it, holding it aloft before turning and making his way over to the fire pit. 

Marcille watches him for a moment, looking at Laios and Chilchuck then back at Senshi in disbelief.

“Chilchuck is hurt and all you can think about right now is COOKING?”

Ah right, he had almost forgotten.

“He just took a stinger to the chest, I need to make an antidote before he gets any worse.”

Marcille pauses, wringing her staff between her hands,

“… stinger ? Wait no, he….” The color drains from her face as she realizes what had happened. She had been so focused on the wound that she hadn’t stopped to consider how he had gotten it.

Her breath hitches, one hand covering her mouth as she stares at Chilchuck, eyes wide.

“ Oh …”

Senshi turns away to set the bag next to the fire, pulling a cutting board and knife from his pack before glancing back over his shoulder at the mage.

“The wound should be fine, but if you’re really worried you can take a look yourself. Mind you the potion I gave him won’t do much for the blood loss or the venom. It’s only good for surface level healing at most.”

Marcille gives a hesitant nod, then steps forward to occupy his vacated spot. She reaches out, resting her hand on their companions cheek, a storm cloud of emotion written on her face.

That would be another problem for another time.

In situations like these, Laios knows the best thing he can do is to follow instructions. He knows he’s out of his depth, so it just makes sense to let the others take the lead. He could easily make things worse otherwise.

It’s not that he isn’t worried. He can feel the heat of Chilchuck’s skin through the metal of his armor, but Senshi seems to have the situation in hand, so he trusts that everything will be okay. It’s that simple.

Marcille on the other hand, doesn’t share that sentiment. She’s a ball of nervous energy which is making her kind of pushy, but he dutifully works around her, wrapping Chilchuck’s wound while she runs off to fetch a water skin and some cloth.

By the time she returns, he’s already got Chilchuck dressed in his spare undershirt. They would have used one of the lockpick’s own shirts but they want something loose so that it’s easier to take care of his wound.  It ends up looking almost comically big on him, like a kid trying on his father’s clothing, the arms so long they have to roll the sleeves a few times to get it to fit.

They’ll have to wait to use magic on the injury until Senshi gives him the antivenin. As far as he’s been told, magic and chemicals never mixed well, and it’s always a risk to try and heal wounds while they’re still in effect. The only thing they can really do now is try and keep him comfortable and keep his temperature down.

Laios pulls his sleeping roll off of his back with one hand, giving it to Marcille who slides it under Chilchuck’s head to use as a pillow. They settle him down fully, covering him with a spare blanket and placing a wet cloth across his brow.

The cold of the material rouses him slightly, eyebrows knitting at the unwelcome sensation, but he doesn’t appear to have the energy to do much else, letting out a long sigh through his nose before settling back against the bed roll. Marcille keeps a hand over the cloth to hold it in place when he shifts, then keeps it there for a minute. She looks like she’s deep in thought, more than likely beating herself up over the situation by the way her ears seem to droop. She looks like a kicked puppy.

“…why would he do something so stupid?”

Well that wasn’t what he was expecting .

“Marcille?”

She picks up the cloth, turning to the side to wet it with the water skin.  She keeps talking but she doesn’t make eye contact with Laios.

“I would have been fine!”

Chilchuck shifts under the blankets, startling Laios, then levers an arm underneath himself to sit up before the knight can stop him. He wavers a bit but steadies himself clutching the blanket pooled in his lap and glaring at Marcille.

“Chil-!” Laios gets cut off by a shaking hand smacking his armored chest.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” Chilchuck wheezes, arm shaking as he strains to stay upright.

Marcille immediately rises up to the insult,

“You’re the one with the hole in his chest and I’m the idiot? Did you even stop to think for a second?!”

“If I didn’t we would be even worse off! What I don’t understand is why I’m still here! You should have just let me die-!”

Marcille’s eye widen, tears gathering as she reels back with her arm raised to slap him. Laios reaches to pull Chilchuck back but Senshi steps in and grabs her arm. She pulls against him once, chest heaving.

“You need to calm down. Look .”

Laios watches Senshi point at Chilchuck releasing Marcille’s arm in the process. In the same moment Chilchuck’s arm gives out and he falls heavily against Laios’ side, eyes clenched shut. Laios immediately wraps a bracing arm around his back, shocked to see tears running down his flushed cheeks.

Chilchuck swipes a hand across his face and lets it drop into his lap, cracking his eyes open and pinning Marcille with a scathing look.

“What would we do if you died? None of us can resurrect you, we’d be useless!” He looks away as his voice trials off, weak and tired, “…and now we’re wasting time and it’s all my fault, you should have just let me die …”

He turns his face into Laios’ chest, hiding away with a shuddering sigh, seemingly grateful for the cool sensation of the armor against his forehead. Laios rubs a sympathetic hand up and down his back, though he’s not sure if it helps.

Marcille drops her arm, devastated by his words and hating how much they make sense, 

“Chilchuck…”

Senshi steps forward, placing a hand on Marcille’s head and raising a steaming bowl of broth in the other,

“Well that’s enough of that, we can talk it out later, for now let’s get some of this into you so that you don’t burn yourself alive from the inside.”

Chilchuck for his part makes an effort to comply, wordlessly uncurling from his spot against Laios to reach for the bowl. Senshi holds it steady and helps guide it but doesn’t stop him from trying to drink it on his own.

When he drinks what Senshi deems is a good amount, he pulls the bowl away and sets it to the side.

“Now this isn’t going to work right away, so the best thing you can do right now is try and get some rest. Stop worrying so much; we’ll deal with things when we come to them.”

Chilchuck nods and Senshi beams at him, patting his shoulder gruffly and jarring Laios in the process.

“That’s a good kid!”

The half-foot bristles at that, but he’s at his limit and only manages a mumbled “M’not a kid…” before drifting off.

Laios struggles to keep a smile off of his face as he lays him back down and tucks the blankets up around him, then watches Marcille silently shuffle forward to replace the wet cloth, face blank. She slides her hand over Chilchuck’s hair, brushing his bangs back before retreating and pulling her knees up to her chest to rest her arms across. She buries her face in them, just peaking over enough to keep an eye on their friend.

If the day had felt long; Laios thinks the night will feel even longer.

Chapter Text

Blue skies, overgrown grass in a windswept field, a small cottage, the sound of a baby crying, a flash of blonde hair glowing in the sunlight.

Things so bittersweet and familiar they make his heart ache, so close that he reaches out to run his hand through that flaxen hair.

It’s soft, slipping easily between his fingers as he raises it to his lips, kissing a whispered apology into the strands.

A strangled exclamation breaks the illusion.

The sky morphs into a stone ceiling, a red faced Marcille just at the edge of his vision, her hair woven between his fingers.

He stares at it for a moment, then lets his gaze slide back to Marcille, absently uncurling his fingers and letting the hair slide out from between them with a quiet “oh.”

Something tells him that he should be embarrassed, but he can’t find it in him, even as he watches Marcille scuttle backwards, mouth working like a fish out of water…but if he doesn’t say anything he thinks she might implode, not one to leave well enough alone.

“Sorry Marcille...”

If she responds he doesn’t hear her, exhaustion settling over him like a woolen blanket. His head feels as though it’s stuffed with cotton and his body feels incredibly heavy, like a ship at anchor both floating and weighed down. The dueling sensations make him feel dizzy, so he pulls his arm over his eyes with a sigh, trying to center himself.

He lets himself stay that way for a minute or so, listening to the crackling of a fire somewhere nearby. The familiarity of it is calming, so much so that he finds himself beginning to drift back to sleep.

But there’s a small voice at the back of his mind reminding him that they can’t be sitting around like this, that he can’t be holding them back.

He attempts to shake off his drowsiness, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to sit up, but only makes it part way before his body makes it abundantly clear that movement is not an option. His arms refuse to hold his weight, elbows giving out as soon as he leans on them, dropping him unceremoniously back to the bedroll.

He’s about to try again when a large hand stops him, pushing him back down with just enough force to keep him pinned to the blankets. He grabs at the arm it’s attached to, scrabbling with what little strength he has but once again finding that his stores are quickly emptied. So he settles on scowling at the owner: Laios, who has removed his armor and has an air about him like a dog guarding a bone.

“Let me go, we don’t have time for this.” He wants to shout but something tells him that would be a bad idea, hissing out his words instead and getting more agitated when Laios simply shakes his head, hand still in place.

“ C’mon Laios…” Now he just sounds like an impatient child, and he really, really hates that comparison.

“Marcille said that you shouldn’t try to move for a while, that you could make yourself worse. Magic takes energy.”

Now that he mentions it, Chilchuck realizes he hasn’t been in any pain since he woke up. That would also explain the fatigue. And speaking of Marcille…

He looks sideways toward the spot he saw her last, but she’s not there. A quick glance around tells him that Senshi isn’t there either.

“…where’d the other two go?”

Laios finally relents, removing his hand as Chilchuck releases his arm.

“Oh, they went to find some water. Marcille wanted to go on her own but Senshi insisted. They should be back soon.”

“Ah,”  His mouth feels dry, either because of the mention of water or because of the words left unspoken,

That they couldn’t afford to have another party member down.

He ignores it.

“Do…we have any left? Water, I mean?”

Laios seems to perk up at the question, producing a water-skin from the ground at his side. He holds it up proudly, as though it isn’t mostly empty, having just enough water to audibly slosh on the upswing.

“Marcille said you’d probably be thirsty so we kept this one behind just in case. We can refill it on our way out.”

The foresight is somehow endearing, making a pit of warmth bloom in his chest for a moment, but he pushes it away to concentrate on sitting up again, this time making it most of the way before his arms once again betray him.

Unlike his last attempt; he doesn’t hit the ground this time, instead falling back against Laio’s chest, the tall-man having shifted up behind him to sit on his knees in a way that makes Chilchuck envious of his youth.

Laios braces him around the shoulders, wordlessly helping him settle back so that most of his weight is being supported. Chilchuck cranes his neck to look at him, but the knight’s expression is neutral. There is no judgement, no intent other than to be helpful, so he accepts it with only a slight flush of embarrassment.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.”

Laios doesn’t attempt to baby him, simply handing the water-skin over and letting him drink while he starts spouting monster trivia, this time fixated on scorpions. He doesn’t seem to take into account that it might be a raw subject, but as with earlier Chilchuck is really too tired to care. He sips at the water, feeling the vibrations of Laios’ words through his back, but something begins to nag at him and he lowers the leather pouch into his lap.

“Aren’t you upset?”

“What?”

“That we’re falling behind. You have the most reason to be…because you know…”

Falin

Laios hums in response, leaning forward unconsciously so that his chin is resting on Chilchuck’s head. He’ll let him get away with it, just for now.

“I don’t think I’m upset… worried yes, but things happen, and if I got worked up every time they did, we wouldn’t get anywhere.”

There’s quiet resolve in his words,

“And I believe in Falin, and I know she believes in me. The best we can do is take our punches and move on, and to do that we need everyone with us.”

Chilchuck opens his mouth in protest but Laios cuts him off,

“Imagine how much time we would waste if we kept falling into traps along the way, I think this is a pretty fair trade off.”

Oh.

“I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that…”

He feels ashamed, though he’s not sure why, so he covers it by taking another drink from the water-skin.

“Hey Chilchuck…can I…? Can I hug you?”

Chilchuck freezes mid drink suddenly wishing for something more alcoholic.

“… What .”

Laios leans away, hands clawing at the air nervously, and Chilchuck doesn’t have to look back to know that he’s embarrassed. He takes on the same tone he gets when he’s in too deep talking about monsters.

“I mean, you don’t have to say yes I just, I dunno- you look like you need a hug!”

He laughs it off nervously but Chilchuck can tell that’s not it. There’s an edge to his voice, underlying some kind of stress. Laios is usually very open about things, but he has a feeling this is more of a personal request. A kid that’s just grown up and needs a little support in a hard time. The dad in him refuses to turn away from that, even if he’s being used more like a teddy bear in this case. 

“…fine.”

“ You don’t have to if you don’t- wait fine? You mean it?”

Chilchuck can almost hear the metaphorical tail wag.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Yessir!”

Somehow that’s worse than being called a kid. Ugh.

Laios leans forward again, hesitating before he wraps his arms around Chilchuck, once again resting his chin against his head with a satisfied sigh, melting into the hug as his muscles relax…and while Chilchuck would never admit it under threat of death, there was something extremely reassuring about it.

He doesn’t say a word, placing a hand over one of the arms wrapped around him with a sigh, resigned to let Laios revel in the moment as long as he likes and not realizing when the comforting warmth lulls him back to sleep.

Chapter Text

The first thing that he registers when he wakes next is that everything aches, dull and persistent like a full body bruise. The second is that he’s far too warm.

He must be running a fever again. He mentally groans at the thought.

Magical healing did have its downfalls after all, and Chilchuck being as lean as he was meant that it took a little more out of him than it would the average recipient. If he had the choice he would have let himself heal naturally.

But in this case it was the best option and he didn’t really have any say in it from the start.

This is what happens when you put others before yourself. Was it really worth it to suffer so much? He knows the answer, knows that he would do it again if he needed to- but only if he needed to. This was a capable group, they could handle themselves…for the most part.

There was something special about them, in the way that they balanced each other out. They could be stubborn, could try to do things their own way, but when it came down to it they weren’t above accepting help. No stupid machismo that got other parties wiped before they hit the third floor. He actually admired them a bit for that.

So why was he having such a hard time accepting their help?

What Laios had said earlier really stuck with him, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was wasting everyone’s time. Did the pros really outweigh the cons? Could they afford to sit around like this?

Why was he overthinking this so much?

Maybe it was the fever...that had to be it. He shouldn’t care this much.

Something cold settles across his forehead distracting him from his thoughts and he opens his eyes blearily. The discomfort on top of his ongoing exhaustion leaves him sluggish, not even having the energy to lift his hands away from where they’re resting over the blankets. He tries to focus on the blue and yellow shape above him, but the room is dark, seemingly only lit by a fire, and the colors twist along with the shadows of the stones in the ceiling. It makes him nauseous.

“Chilchuck?” The figure leans over him, and somehow the proximity helps morph it into a person, Marcille’s worried face materializing overhead as she pushes some of her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture.

“…’cille?”

He croaks out, and he must sound horrible because she immediately produces a water-skin, helping raise him up a bit to drink. He catches sight of Laios laid out on a sleeping roll on his other side, a lot closer than he regularly would be. 

He must have been really worried then.

“I think we used a little too much energy healing you…”

Ah, so he was right.

“…and I’m sorry.” She says the last part so quietly he almost doesn’t hear it under the crackling of a log in the fire. It catches him off guard, the confusion rousing him somewhat.

“…sorry? Why?” He’s not being malicious or sarcastic, he’s just genuinely curious. He should be the one apologizing.

“For what I said earlier, and what I did. I just got so worked up I wasn’t thinking, and if Senshi hadn’t stopped me…”

She puts the water-skin down at her side, helping Chilchuck settle back down against the bedroll, ears drooping. She readjusts the cooling cloth absently as she speaks, and it looks like she’s been rolling this over in her head for a while.

“If I had just been paying attention this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt…”

So she’s blaming herself.

Chilchuck sighs, finding the energy to lift a hand to swipe through his hair in frustration. What a pair they make.

“It’s not your fault you know? What happened…”

He’s too tired to dance around the subject.

“Neither of us knew that the scorpion was there. I just happened to see it first and I’m the one who made the decision to step in front of it. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“But you almost died!” Marcille’s voice cracks, tears just starting to steal their way down her cheeks. Chilchuck’s heart wrenches, an image of his youngest daughter crying over a scraped knee popping into the back of his mind.

He forces himself up, catching the wet cloth before it drops and placing it in his lap. The effort leaves him feeling worse, and he has to stop, breathing heavily through his nose when he’s hit with a wave of vertigo. Marcille reaches out, hands stopping short of grabbing him, looking more upset.

He closes his eyes, inhaling slowly and deeply to let the sensation pass. When he feels grounded enough, he raises an arm up and swipes away her tears gently with the pad of his thumb.

“I don’t regret what I did, and you need to understand that it was my decision, Marcille.”

Marcille purses her lips, clearly holding back another wave of tears. 

Chilchuck does the only thing he can think of in the moment. He raises himself up on his knees, wrapping his arms over her shoulders in a shaky hug, voice low so only she can hear and suddenly glad for the flush already stationed across his cheeks from the fever. 

“You’re important to us too.”

She tenses, then rests her head on his shoulder before returning the hug, taking a lot of his weight in the process much to his relief. He can feel her tears soaking into the back of his shirt but he says nothing, just lets her cry.

Which feels like a mistake not too long after, when Marcille all but passes out on him, pinning him down and holding him close as she lightly snores, partway on top of the bedroll.

He definitely didn’t get paid enough to deal with this.

Chapter Text

Senshi was sure that he hadn’t left that long ago…or at least he was mostly sure.

He’d gone just long enough to gather some extra roots and moss where the castle walls had long collapsed and nature had guided itself back in. Not a long trek by any means, though he had been sidetracked by a patch of good sized mushrooms.

So he’s surprised when he returns, goods bundled in his arms, to find Marcille fast asleep. She had been wide awake when he’d left, with enough emotional baggage to sink a small boat, but mostly fine.

Thankfully his safe-room served its purpose, there was no real need for anyone to keep watch anyways.

Senshi toes his way around the bedrolls, glancing down as he passes, only to make eye contact with a very awake and very uncomfortable looking Chilchuck.

“Need some help there kid?”

The half-foot grimaces at the nickname, mouth opening to say something before he thinks better of it, squirming under Marcille’s arm and grunting when she tightens her hold on him unconsciously. He lets out an exasperated noise, pushing at her arms ineffectually, though Senshi can tell that it’s in large part due to the fact that he’s trying not to wake her.

Chilchuck gives up shortly, dropping his arms with a quiet and defeated “…yes please.”

Senshi can tell he still has something of a temperature from the ever present flush on his cheeks and the sweat beading on his forehead, so the added body heat must be stifling.

“Okay give me a moment to set these down and I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks Senshi…”

Once he has everything in a neat pile he makes his way back to the group, circling around so that he’s standing near their heads. He puts his hands on his hips, assessing the situation with the air of a craftsman tackling a project. He leans one way, then the other, takes into account each blanket and bedroll as Chilchuck watches him, expression morphing from curious to impatient.

“Senshi…”

“Alright! Here’s what we’re gonna do! Chilchuck lift your arms! We’re going to have to move fast if we want to make this work.”

Chilchuck warily raises his arms.

“Try not to make a sound.”

Before he can react, Senshi grabs his wrists and pulls him straight back, then up, causing him to yelp despite the warning. Senshi then swings him to the side, kicking the makeshift bedroll-pillow into his vacated spot under Marcille’s arms, who does little more than snuggle it with a sleepy mumble.

When Senshi turns back to Chilchuck, he’s looking a little green around the gills. The half-foot fails to conceal a shiver when his partially covered feet touch down on the stone floor, and he grips the dwarf’s sleeve for a moment, wavering a bit before stubbornly locking his knees and letting go.

Senshi lets him be, watching long enough to ensure that he’s not going to drop before returning to his own task.

“You’d best get some more sleep, though I would suggest finding somewhere else to hunker down. You can use Marcille’s bedroll for the time being if you’d like, since Laios has mine and she stole yours…”

“…‘Kay. Thanks.”

Senshi returns to the fire pit, setting the bedroll behind him and rifling through his bag for a hidden store of spices. While he had used a good portion of the scorpion’s tail earlier (and Chilchuck was too out of it to complain about the taste) Senshi wanted to make use of the rest of the body. Scorpion rolls would have been a treat but they’d used up the rest of their bread a while ago, and they weren’t exactly in an area packed with fresh ingredients either, but he was hoping to at least manage some kind of curry.

There’s some shuffling behind him, slow and measured steps speaking more of exhaustion than stealth. Chilchuck plops down at his side, dragging the roll in front of himself before unfurling the blankets. Instead of laying it out, he wraps it over himself like a cloak, seeming content to just be a silent companion for the time being.

Senshi has no issue with it.

This goes on for a while, Chilchuck absently watching him as he prepares the ingredients, though Senshi feels the need to fill the silence-every so often explaining what type of root or mushroom he’s dicing, or what kind of spice he’s picked to add in. Chilchuck only ever responds with a quiet hum, but it’s enough to keep him going.

Once he has all of the ingredients combined, has added a roux and the pot is simmering, a silence falls between the two, only punctuated by the crackling of the fire and the bubbling of the pot. It’s peaceful, almost domestic in its simplicity, and it leaves room for thought- which Chilchuck seems to be lost in; knees drawn up and chin resting on his arms like Senshi had seen Marcille doing earlier.

“I just don’t get it…”

Senshi glances at him, then makes a point to look at the fire instead, allowing his companion the benefit of an ear without an audience.

“What don’t you get?”

This spurs him on a bit,

“I was paid in advance, this is a job for me. So why did I do that? That’s not what I was hired for, and I know that…but I couldn’t stop myself.”

It’s Senshi’s turn to hum in acknowledgement, allowing him to continue without much interruption.

“They should be angry- I mean Marcille was- but not for the reason she should be…and Laios, he wasn’t even a little bit upset! I just don’t understand it…”

Chilchuck rakes a hand through his hair in frustration, then pulls the blankets up over his head like a hood, or a barrier Senshi thinks; between him and the rest of the world.

“I did something careless and made things harder for everyone, so why aren’t they mad?”

The words hang in the air, tethered by the weight of emotion. Senshi remains silent, reaching forward to check on the curry and ladling out a bowl when he finds it to be just thickened. He hands it to Chilchuck, who politely thanks him, then dishes out his own bowl before settling back down.

“The way I see it,” He pauses and blows on the bowl, finding pleasure at the swirling plume of steam as it catches in the firelight, “They didn’t have time to think of anything like that…You know why? They were too busy tryin’ to make sure you were in one piece. They figured there was something more important to worry about at the time.”

Chilchuck stares intently into his bowl, shoulders raised defensively and refusing to look at Senshi.

“More important than a job, at least, and I think you know what I mean too.”

The half-foot’s shoulders drop and he places the bowl on the ground before burying his face in his raised knees.

“Yeah…I think I do.”

The tips of his ears are red under the blanket, Senshi decides not to point it out.

“Good, then eat up! It’s better when it’s warm and you could use all of the energy you can get.”

Chilchuck finally lifts the bowl, taking a spoonful of the scorpion curry with little hesitation. He chews slowly, a small content smile creeping over his face at the flavor. Senshi feels a wave of pride at the expression.

They finish their food in companionable silence, and Senshi gets a surprise when not long after clearing his bowl, Chilchuck falls asleep on him- literally on him. He nods off, sliding sideways until his head is resting on Senshi’s upper arm, blanket grasped loosely in his fingers, and despite his ongoing protests against the fact- Senshi really can’t help but to see him as a kid.

The dwarf carefully twists around, placing the back of his hand against Chilchuck’s forehead, not sure of how bad it was before but somehow sure his temperature has dropped a little. It doesn’t seem too bad at the moment at least.

He doesn’t have to put much thought into what he’s going to do next.

Senshi bundles the half-foot up against him like a sleeping toddler, and it’s a testament to how exhausted Chilchuck must be that the movement doesn’t cause him to stir. He then makes his way back over to the other members of their party, stepping carefully between them so that he can deposit Chilchuck back in the center.

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes when he slides the bedroll out from under Marcille’s arms, nearly beaming when- as he expected-she reaches out in her sleep and ends up finding Chilchuck again, pulling him in close with a happy sigh.

But Senshi isn’t finished just yet.

He steps around behind Laios, carefully nudging him with a boot until the knight rolls away from the irritant and toward the other two, opening his eyes blearily and deciding in his more than half-asleep state that if Marcille gets to cuddle Chilchuck, then he does too. The tall-man happily drapes an arm over the pair, drifting back to sleep.

Over all, the three look content, and even Chilchuck is so deeply asleep that he seems to find comfort nestled between his companions, one hand looped over Laios’ arm, and body turned slightly so that his head is resting just under Marcille’s chin.

Senshi can’t help but to feel proud of himself.

Even when, come morning, it causes a commotion loud enough to startle a sleeping dragon.