Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The worst vision Zerxus had had since he met Evandrin came on their first anniversary.

Evandrin had gotten them dinner reservations at one of Avalir’s fancier restaurants – not the fanciest, which was affordable to almost no one without generational wealth or who was not an elf with hundreds of years to develop their own nest egg – and Nydas was on his way over to babysit Elias for the evening. The couple were in their bedroom getting dressed, Elias in his playpen in the corner. Evandrin stood tying his tie in the mirror and waiting for his husband to inevitably step up behind him and kiss his jaw and nearly make them late for dinner, when there was instead a thump from behind him. 

With a frown, he turned to see that Zerxus must have tripped or lost his balance somehow while he’d been pulling dress pants on, as he had collapsed to his knees on the rug. It was only when he tipped backwards that Evandrin realized that no, this was something else, and it was only his battle-hardened instincts that allowed him to pitch forward fast enough to catch Zerxus before he could hit his head on the dresser.

Zerxus was terrifyingly heavy in his arms. He wasn’t fully limp, but he was clearly unconscious, his eyes closed and completely unresponsive. It wasn’t quite a seizure, but every few moments one of his limbs would jerk in what looked like a painful manner, and his eyes moved wildly below his lids as his breathing hitched. A vision, and a bad one by the looks of it.

When the vision showed no signs of abating after a few seconds, Evandrin carefully lowered Zerxus to the ground. He made sure he was far enough away from all the furniture to not accidentally hit it and arranged his limbs more comfortably with his legs stretched out and arms folded over his chest. A grimace split Zerxus’s face as his head tossed from side to side, and his hands gripped into his shirt, putting creases in the just-ironed fabric. Not knowing what else to do, Evandrin took one of his hands into his own. 

That was a mistake. Zerxus squeezed so hard that there was a cracking sound and agonizing grinding pain as bones broke. Evandrin barely was able to keep himself from retaliating with Shocking Grasp just to make him let go. Gods, he should have known better than to try to hold the hand of someone of Zerxus’s strength when he wasn’t aware enough to control it. He yanked his hand away, sending another sharp spike of pain through the limb. It would need healing later, but for now, he forced the thought away and just tucked his arm close against his chest to protect it from further harm.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he huffed, trying to calm both himself and his husband, even though he knew it was unlikely Zerxus could hear him. “It’ll be alright, my love, I’m right here. I’m not going to hold your hand again, but I’m right here.”

Trying to ignore and push away the pain radiating from his hand up through his arm, Evandrin waited anxiously through Zerxus’s vision. He murmured reassurances insensibly and rested his good hand on his husband’s shoulder, knowing it was likely useless but not being able to do anything else. Zerxus looked to be in as much pain as him, or at least distress, an occasional flinch or whimper escaping him from the throes of the vision. The regular throbbing in his hand gave Evandrin of a painfully clear sense of time, and it was about ten minutes before Zerxus finally began to calm and still.

“Zerxus, my love?” he queried softly as his husband’s eyes began to flutter open. They slammed shut again as a pained noise escaped his throat. Evandrin immediately cast the On/Off cantrip Laerryn had invented and taught him to turn off the lights in the bedroom. The hand that Zerxus had broken was his dominant one, so he fumbled with the somatic component of the spell, but managed to flick the switch. Enough light to see by still shone in from the balcony. Elias, however, started crying at the darkness, and Evandrin swore. He loved their son with all his heart, but his crying was absolutely not what they needed right now.

“Zerxus, sweetheart, the light is off now, but you don’t need to open your eyes or move if it might hurt. Just give me some indication if you can hear and understand me.”

In the low light, it looked like Zerxus tried to nod, but the motion instantly cut off with a keen. In the aftermath of visions, when awful migraines took hold of him, moving his neck was always one of the things that caused the pain to spike worst. Evandrin needed to get a hot pad on it soon if he wanted his husband to have any relief. And to do that, it would be immensely helpful to have the use of both hands.

“My love, I hate to ask this of you now, but do you think you can heal at the moment?” Evandrin said softly. He knew he wouldn’t be able to cast spells if he was in the same state as Zerxus right now, but his husband’s magic was much more instinctive than his own, and Lay on Hands required only touch, with no verbal, somatic, or material components that required him to move or try to speak.

Zerxus’s eyes snapped open again at the word ‘heal’, amber gaze piercing as he seemed to search Evandrin for any sign of injury. Clumsily, he reached out for him, and Evandrin took his hand carefully with his uninjured one. He felt healing energy instantly flood into him, much more than was needed. The small broken bones of his palm and fingers set and knit themselves instantly until all that was left of the injury was the greens and purples of a fading bruise. Later, Zerxus would see that and likely realize what had happened, and he would feel terrible, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he clearly already felt physically terrible, and Evandrin could not heal him like he had been healed.

“Thank you, dearheart,” Evandrin said, bringing Zerxus’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Is it alright if I leave you for a moment to go calm Elias? Squeeze my hand once for no, twice for yes,” he instructed, to avoid accidentally prompting Zerxus to try to nod or shake his head. It was perhaps a foolish thing to ask of him, when the very same action had so recently broken his bones, but he trusted him to be gentler now that he was even slightly conscious. 

Zerxus, ever selfless, squeezed his hand twice. 

“Alright. I will return as soon as I can.” Evandrin pressed a second kiss to Zerxus’s fingers before setting his hand back on his chest and standing up.

With both hands usable again, Evandrin was able to quickly soothe Elias by picking the baby up and taking him outside to the balcony. It was early evening, and out here, plenty of light was left in the sky for the child’s young eyes to see by. Tempus had been napping in the fading sun, but woke when Evandrin opened the door. He seemed to instantly dial into the fact that something was wrong with Zerxus, starting to stand and move inside towards him. 

“Easy there, Temp, let’s give Zerxus a little space,” Evandrin said, blocking the griffon’s path inside with his body and drawing an annoyed cry. “I know you want to be with him, but do you think you could do me a favor and look after Elias, instead?” Zerxus had always spoken to his steed, who could understand Common, like a person, and Evandrin had picked up the habit from him. Except for when he spoke to the griffon like a baby, but that didn’t seem appropriate for what he was asking of the creature now.

For once, Tempus didn’t fight Evandrin on his request. Even a year and a bit in, the knight and the steed had a somewhat contentious relationship, for which Zerxus was endlessly apologetic. Apparently the griffon realized that now wasn’t a good time to be stubborn, however. Or he just wanted Evandrin to set Elias down to spend time with instead. 

Tempus was excellent with the baby; he was instinctively loving and gentle with him, and had learned to sit down and not move when he was crawling near, so that he wouldn’t accidentally bump the little one. He wouldn’t even lash out when Elias yanked on his feathers, just gently nudge him away or telepathically call for Zerxus to come relieve him of babysitting duties when he needed a break. Elias also clearly loved Tempus back, endlessly entranced by his starry feathers and affection. He had learned to stand up clinging to the beast’s side. Despite his own sometimes petty disagreements with the griffon, Evandrin trusted him implicitly with his son.

Tempus cawed softly, and settled back down on the ground in a loaf, with all his sharp claws tucked in under him. After making sure Elias didn’t need a diaper change or any other attention that required opposable thumbs, Evandrin set him down on the balcony’s floor near the griffon. He would be warm enough in his onesie for awhile, and Tempus would wrap a wing over him if it got chill out. The balcony was also safely baby-proofed, with glass inserts added to the tall slatted railings so that a child couldn’t get a hand stuck in them. Elias protested slightly at being put down, but Tempus reached out his head to nuzzle him with his beak, and soon he was happily crawling over to the griffon. After a moment of observation to ensure the two would remain content, Evandrin returned inside.

In his absence, Zerxus had curled onto his side, and Evandrin instantly realized he should have put him in the recovery position before he left, just in case. It was unfortunately not unusual for Zerxus to throw up after a vision, or be unable to move, and that could have been deeply dangerous. Thankfully, it seemed that no harm had come of it. Although Zerxus couldn’t exactly be said to be well, either.

He had his head in his hands, squeezing his own hair so tight that Evandrin could see some of the dark strands cutting off circulation in his fingers. At first, he did not appear to be aware of what was going on around him, but then he flinched as Evandrin got closer. He was turned away, and his eyes appeared to be closed from what Evandrin could see, so he must’ve heard or felt his footsteps rather than seen him approaching.

“It’s just me, my love,” Evandrin soothed as he knelt a couple feet away. He didn’t want his husband to feel threatened, only partially because he could lash out.

“E-evandrin?” Zerxus's voice shook. “No, it can't be-”

“It is, it’s me. I'm right here. ” He reached out, and even though Zerxus was still turned away from him, he seemed to somehow sense it as he flinched away.

“Don’t touch me,” Zerxus whimpered. “I couldn’t bear it if you were to touch me right now.” Evandrin reluctantly retracted his hand. 

“Oh, my love…” It was hard to tell if Zerxus's plea had a physical or an emotional cause. Who knew what Zerxus had seen in the vision or how badly he was hurting now? He had been reserved when they met, more inclined to go lick his wounds in private than reach out for help, but in the year they'd been married, his instinct had gradually shifted to seeking out his husband when he was in pain or needed comfort. In the days after a vision, when his headache would gradually fade, it was often difficult for Evandrin to get out of bed to go to work, so tightly did Zerxus cling to him in his sleep. For him to be flinching away from his touch now meant that either he had reverted to old instincts, or something had changed. 

“Please,” Zerxus groaned. “Please…”

“Please what, darling?” Evandrin tried to clarify, but there was no answer. He found himself instinctively reaching out again; he needed something else to do with his hands if he didn't want to violate his husband's request. Zerxus was shivering. Tea, a blanket, and a hot pad, then. Evandrin started to stand to go fetch them.

“Don't leave me,” Zerxus begged suddenly. “My love, please don't go.” He hadn't uncurled from where he lay on his side, but one hand moved from his hair to grab at his chest instead, giving Evandrin a glimpse of his face. At least one amber eye was open, glistening wetly in the low light. His hand that clenched on his shirt jerked suddenly, and Evandrin feared that was the first sign of another vision. He realized a moment later that no, Zerxus was just at war with himself about whether to reach out.

“I'm here, Zerxus, I'm right here. I was just going to grab you a blanket, but I don't have to move if you don't want me to. It's okay.”

Zerxus shook his head, but the resultant pain made him whimper and return his second hand to clench in his hair. Evandrin inched closer, to within reach should Zerxus want to touch him, but grabbed knees of his suit pants to stop himself from trying to hold him first. All their nice clothes would have so many wrinkles after this, but that was far from his largest concern at the moment. 

“I'm sorry,” Zerxus whimpered. His arms in front of his face muffled his words, and Evandrin only knew what he said because he knew him so well. Of course Zerxus would apologize for this, even though he had no control over it.

“It's alright, my love, you have nothing to apologize for,” Evandrin reassured him.

“I do, gods above, yes, I do.” Zerxus’s voice was choked with tears. “I ruined everything. I'm so sorry.”

Evandrin did not care one iota that the vision had interrupted their anniversary as opposed to any other day, but of course Zerxus would. “It is okay, my love. I can reschedule our dinner reservations, and I'm sure Nydas would not mind babysitting on a different day. None of that is a big deal.” Zerxus did not seem to hear him, but he was reluctant to raise his voice. He didn’t know if any kind of noise was hurting him, and whether he should be speaking at all.

“I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I failed. I'm so sorry.”

Evandrin was suddenly reminded that these attacks his husband got were not just migraines, but prophetic visions. There was every chance that Zerxus was not just apologizing for ruining their anniversary or feeling like a burden or some other supposed inconvenience or minor mishap, but for something serious in the future, something bad, that may or may not come to pass. 

And if that was the case, Evandrin simply did not want to know. He wondered for just a moment if it was lucky that Zerxus would likely not remember this. His memory was often spotty in the aftermath of visions, hence the need for a journal.

“My love, please, stop,” he begged. He did not know what Zerxus was apologizing for, did not want to know, and as long as he kept saying sorry, his mind couldn’t stop jumping to the worst possibilities. “It is alright, darling. Whatever it is, we can fix it. All will be well.”

“It won't,” Zerxus whispered. “It really, really won't.” 

With that incredibly worrying prophecy, he finally stopped apologizing, lapsing into silence. Evandrin wanted to reach out to him so badly, was tempted to just take a pinch of his shirt, just to have something to hold. That couldn't hurt him, could it? But given the context of his apologies, perhaps his desire not to be touched was more emotional than physical. And the last thing Evandrin wanted to do was upset him more. 

Instead, he busied himself by Sending a short message to Nydas. Apologies for the late notice, but raincheck on babysitting. We’re rescheduling our anniversary dinner. Zerxus has had a vision.

Shit, sorry to hear that. Happy to take a raincheck; let me know if you need anything. Give Zerxus a hug for me.

If only Evandrin could. He was still waiting for Zerxus to reach out to him first, and unfortunately it seemed like he might be waiting a while. 

“Nydas sends his love,” he said softly. Zerxus hummed, and perhaps it was wishful thinking, but he sounded a little less pained than before. “... would you like me to talk, darling, or would you prefer quiet?”

“Talk to me, please,” Zerxus murmured. “I miss your voice.”

So Evandrin spoke about everything he could think of, keeping his voice low and soft and taking care not to ask any questions or say anything to which Zerxus would need to respond. He talked about maybe doing a toy exchange with the Agrupnins, so Maya and Elias could get some novelty in their lives without their parents needing to buy them anything new. Both kids already had so many toys. He spoke about the radio drama from Aeor that Loquatius and Laerryn had recently become obsessed with. Laerryn had modified their arcane radio to get signals from the other flying city, no matter how far away they were and despite the attempts by Aeorian communications officers to restrict eavesdropping on their airwaves by outsiders. He discussed Nydas and Patia’s recent interactions, and theorized about whether there might be something in addition to friendship going on between the two of them. His voice was growing hoarse by the time Zerxus finally extended a trembling hand to him.

“Can you- help me sit up?” he asked shakily. Evandrin immediately shifted close and pulled Zerxus upright against him. His husband buried his face in his shoulder, clutching him in a tight hug. His strength was such that Evandrin could hardly breathe with how tight he held him, but he did not let go. 

“There you are, my love. I have you, I have you.” Zerxus was warm in his arms, almost feverish, and his clothes were soaked with sweat. Very gently, Evandrin lifted one hand to cradle the back of his head. He was wary of hurting him, but as his hand connected with his husband’s hair, Zerxus leaned further into him with a pleased noise. Keeping his arms around his back, he raised his other hand to his neck and began to very gently massage the tight muscles in his shoulders and nape.

“I love you, more than the stars and the moon and life itself,” Zerxus murmured into his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You will never lose me,” Evandrin replied instinctively. He did not know what his husband was afraid of, what events he had seen in the future that had caused this fear, but he knew that was true. “Never.”

With that reassurance, Zerxus finally seemed to relax. Evandrin held his husband up as he melted into his arms, and kissed his head until it stopped hurting.

Chapter Text

A few hours later, Evandrin had to pry Zerxus’s arms from around his waist to go check on Elias. The baby monitor, which was really a modified version of a scrying spell, indicated that the baby was crying. Elias had two cribs, one in his dads’ room and one in his own on the floor below, and today Evandrin had decided to put him down to sleep away from them, to allow Zerxus to rest more easily. He was regretting that decision now, as it would have been much easier to check on the baby without getting up if he was within reach. 

Zerxus had reverted to his by now typical post-vision half-conscious clinginess. Not that Evandrin was complaining; it was so much better than not being allowed to hold him when he was hurting.

“Let go, please, my love,” he requested as he tugged Zerxus’s hands free where they had wrapped around his middle. For a second the grip squeezed harder, and Evandrin tensed in momentary worry that he’d end up with cracked ribs to match the bruises on his hand. But then Zerxus allowed his arms to be pried away with a soft noise of protest but no fight. Evandrin cast Prestidigitation on his pillow to warm it to a comforting temperature and placed it in Zerxus’s arms in his place. Hopefully that would be similar enough so he did not wake fully; gods knew he needed the rest.

Evandrin also used a second casting of prestidigitation to light a candle on his bedside to see by. This was dimmer than the main lights of their bedroom, less likely to hurt Zerxus’s eyes or wake him up, and he took it with him as he went downstairs to check on Elias. The baby was fussing, but nothing really seemed to be wrong. Flicking off the baby monitor, Evandrin picked him up and carried him over to the rocking chair. On days like this, he thought he spent more time holding a loved one than not. It was incredible to him that only eighteen months ago, neither Elias nor Zerxus had been in his life. He could barely remember what that felt like, or imagine how empty his arms must have felt all the time. 

After maybe twenty minutes of cuddling, Elias fell back asleep, and Evandrin transferred him very carefully back to his crib. When he returned upstairs, he saw that his ploy to get Zerxus to keep sleeping had failed. The bedside lamp was turned on low, and Zerxus was sitting up writing in his journal. He’d gotten a few words down earlier, presumably something of his vision, but not much, so Evandrin supposed it made sense that he would want to flesh out the entry now. Not that it looked like he was writing much at the moment either. He stared into the middle distance out at the balcony with a pinched look on his face; it might have been pain or might have been concentration as he tried to remember more of the vision.

Zerxus looked up when Evandrin entered. His expression softened to a smile for a moment before his brows knit in worry, and his gaze followed Evandrin’s hand as he snuffed the candle and set it on the bedside table. His same hand that was still covered in green and purple bruising. Shit. He had been hoping to have until morning before Zerxus noticed that.

“What happened to your hand?” Zerxus asked, setting down his pencil and reaching out. Reluctantly, Evandrin sat down on the bed and offered him the injured appendage to inspect. He knew avoiding doing so would only cause more worry.

“Oh, I just hit it on something,” Evandrin lied lightly. He knew immediately as he said it that Zerxus knew him too well to fall for his deception. A feeling of warmth flooded into him as his husband attempted to use Lay on Hands again. There was nothing left to heal, though. Even the bruising was just the remaining blood pooled under his skin, which his body would take a few days to clear. All of the damage itself had already been fixed. “It’s alright, you already healed it.”

In addition to healing, Zerxus tended to use Lay on Hands as a way to connect with people and feel what they were feeling, and with that came a certain amount of, well, backwash. Maybe mutual connection was a better term for it. Either way, it let Evandrin feel some of Zerxus’s lingering headache. Not much, but enough that he could compare it to earlier in the night and feel that it was much better in comparison. But not gone completely, and something about his husband’s comforting aura felt just slightly off-kilter, a little weaker than usual. He was far from fully recovered from his vision, which was why Evandrin had hoped to put this conversation off until later.

“I did? When?”

“Almost immediately after your vision. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“But you were… you were fine, just before I had it. I remember that, at least.” Zerxus’s brow was so wrinkled. Evandrin took his hand, the bruised one, from his grasp and raised it to his forehead to smooth it out with his thumb. He wished he could cast Modify Memory like Patia to erase the realization he could see creeping into his husband’s thoughts and across his face. “Which means you were hurt while I was having it.”

“Yeah,” Evandrin sighed. He wondered if he could get away with claiming he hit his hand catching Zerxus when he fell. Maybe on the dresser; it had been close by after all. But he knew Zerxus would just see through the lie if he tried to tell it again.

“Did I… I didn’t lash out and hit you, did I?” Zerxus asked. His voice was quiet, and he looked down away from Evandrin’s eyes. That was possibly the only thing he would find worse than reality, so Evandrin was glad to disabuse him of the notion.

“No,” he said firmly. Zerxus still wasn’t looking at him, so he moved his hands to his cheeks to make him look at his face, feeling his short beard scrape against his palms. “Zerxus. You did not hit me. I don’t think there is a force in this world that could cause you do to so. Not even one of your visions.”

“Then what did happen?” Zerxus asked. He did not look away now, and his gaze was firm even as it was sad and pained. Evandrin would not get away from this demand for answers.

“I made the mistake of holding your hand while you were out of it, and you squeezed a little too hard.” He tried to take the blame onto himself with his words. Maybe that would leave less guilt available for his husband to claim.

“How hard?”

In another circumstance, Evandrin would have made a teasing joke from that question. Here, now, he just said, “You broke a couple of bones. But you healed it right after.”

“I broke- gods, Evandrin, I… I’m so sorry.” He pulled back out of his husband’s hold on his face, rubbing his own hands over it roughly instead. Evandrin was already reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder when Zerxus abruptly swung his legs over the far side of the bed and stood up, his journal falling untended to the floor. He was making his way towards the door to the balcony by the time Evandrin caught up.

“Zerxus! Where are you going?” Evandrin stopped his husband from walking away with a hand on his hip, spinning him around to face him. Zerxus tried to step back, but tripped on one of Elias’s toys left on the ground. Clumsy from the lingering migraine, he would have fallen had Evandrin not caught his hands to steady him. “My love, you’re still not well. Come back to bed.” Zerxus had been headed towards the balcony, where Tempus slept. Had he meant to fly away on the griffon? He was far from steady enough to do so safely.

Zerxus shook his head. “No. I have to go. It’s not- I’m not safe to be around, like this.” 

“That’s not what I said,” Evandrin argued. “It was my mistake to hold your hand. You didn’t even lash out, and even if you had it would not be your fault. You are not dangerous.”

“That is objectively untrue.”

“Fine. Yes, you’re incredibly strong, and a skilled fighter. You are dangerous to those who go against you. But you are not an inherently dangerous person.” Evandrin drew his husband closer to him. Zerxus smelled faintly of sweat and the cologne he’d put on when they’d been intending to go out for dinner. That felt like ages ago now. He did not attempt to fight the pull, but it was unclear if that was because he accepted the words, or if he was so afraid of being dangerous that he was reluctant to move a muscle to resist.

“My love,” Evandrin went on softly. “All you did was squeeze the hand I gave you. You were in pain, and witnessing something terrible, and you just wanted to hold me close. That’s all. That’s all. You did nothing wrong.”

The hand that I gave you. Today, on their first anniversary of their marriage, that seemed especially poignant. He had given Zerxus his hand in more ways than one. How could he be mad that he had taken it when offered?

Evandrin leaned in and pressed his forehead against his husband’s. Zerxus was breathing heavily, shakily, but he did not lean away. They stood there, Evandrin’s hands on his hips, breathing in each other’s air. After a minute, Zerxus raised his own arms and gently took hold of Evandrin’s near his elbows. 

“You’re alright?” Zerxus asked again, speaking quietly. His voice was rough with unshed tears.

“Yes, darling, I am well. You healed me as soon as you were aware again. And of the two actions, the breaking and healing, the latter is the one that defines you.” Evandrin shifted his head and pressed a kiss to Zerxus’s lips, which was clumsily returned. When they broke apart, he tugged on his husband’s hips to pull him back towards the bed. Zerxus went willingly with him this time, and soon they were situated back in bed, Evandrin using his husband’s broad chest as a pillow and hugging his waist. It was such a reassurance, to have him in his arms. He did not think there was a feeling in the world he understood more than the instinct to hold a loved one tight.

“… my visions are still dangerous,” Zerxus said suddenly, even as Evandrin was starting to drift off listening to his heartbeat. He instantly startled back awake, ready to contradict him. His husband went on before he could interrupt. “It worries me, sometimes, to be alone in the house with Elias, or to carry him, especially on the stairs, in case I have a vision and fall.”

“Oh. Yeah, that does sound scary.” For Zerxus as well as for Elias. Obviously the risk to the baby was greater than to someone as sturdy as Zerxus, but falling suddenly into a vision could absolutely incur serious damage if it happened on the stairs, or worse, during battle, or flying above the city. “Is that something the Temple of Prophecy might be able to help you with?” In Zerxus’s training to become an oracle, he knew they weren’t able to help him control the visions, but perhaps they could help him gain some ability to predict them.

“Maybe. I’ll ask about it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? No. You’re taking the day off tomorrow,” Evandrin argued. He felt Zerxus’s chest rise under his cheek as he breathed in to start talking. “Don’t fight me on this. You need rest. You know your headache lasts longer if you try and do too much too soon after a vision.”

Zerxus sighed. His breath stirred Evandrin’s hair. “Fine.”

“Good. Now go back to sleep, my dear. We will sort anything that needs sorting in the morning.” Zerxus’s journal still lay on the floor, its pages probably getting rumpled, and Evandrin wanted to call the restaurant and reschedule their anniversary dinner as soon as possible. He would also need to inform the Temple of Prophecy that Zerxus would not be coming in, and request that they send over one of his friends among the oracles to help him work through his vision in the comfort of their home instead.

Despite his plans, when morning came, Evandrin was the one holding so tight to his husband that he could not get out of bed. He never wanted to let him go.