Felix Caelus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
conjuredskies) wrote2020-08-05 12:19 am
conjuredskies) wrote2020-08-05 12:19 am
Playing With Shadows II, for smartass_captain
The darkness flows around him, a river of shadow beneath a moonless night. His hands are in agony and there’s a dull thudding pain in his skull, but he’s safe. For now. At least until Jim finds out what he’s done.
Which… is fuck up a ritual in their most hated place and let loose a powerful, bloodthirsty daedric warrior.
Felix utters all the Andorian words Norn’s taught him not to say.
“Are you just going to sit there, featherless? Don’t you know how to walk?” There’s a familiar harshness to the voice; Felix isn’t surprised to lift his head and see the crow sitting in a stunted tree close by. Though in his defence, he thinks, it’s a black bird sitting in a black tree in the realm of eternal night. It doesn’t exactly grab the eye.
“You’re… the Knave of Rooks, aren’t you?” The smallest of the Blackfeather Court, and one of the lowest-ranking, from his observations.
“Correct, mortal!” The bird puffs and preens. “Prince Nocturnal commanded that I should guide you through her glorious realm of Evergloam, in fulfilment of your contract!”
"You? So then..." She didn't set one of her phantom Nightingales to handle this errand. Even a former mortal must outrank the bird. But Felix bites his tongue hard on that. Not the time to start offending his guide with such observations, even if he's inadvertently learning something.
The Knave cocks his head at Felix, the glint of his eyes a violet spark in the gloom. “Well? Speak! Where is it you need to go?”
“Uh-“ To the Enterprise, scream the white-hot nerves in his hands, the ache of his skull and ribs. To the ship and Dr. McCoy and all his wonderful shiny machines for making the pain go right the hell away.
Then he considers the look on Jim’s face when Bones immediately reports this, and winces. Anyway, there’s precious few shadows to fall out of on the Enterprise. He’d be as well going to their quarters and then he might give Jim a nasty surprise to his face.
“Iowa. My home on Earth.” He doesn’t know if that means much to the crow, but maybe that doesn’t matter.
“Very well. Follow! Hurry up!” The crow flaps off, leaving the mage to stumble after him, up the bank of the dark river and through a sparse wood Felix has glimpsed before. He finds his sight starting to adjust to the shadows as he picks his way over rocks and roots, trying to stick to what path there is. The bird calls to him again each time he drops behind, harsh and grating and peppered with commentary Felix can’t concentrate enough to be annoyed by.
The pain in his hands ebbs and throbs in turns. Eventually he musters himself to speak again, just to distract himself.
“Hey… Knave? You’re a servant of Nocturnal. A… a wise noble of this realm. Can you tell me… why the hood I wear didn’t protect my mind, from… from the foul place I delved into?”
The compliments seem to do the trick: the bird stops to preen instead of complaining about the question. He seems to hesitate, though. Felix nearly flinches when he flies down to the conjurer’s shoulder, leans over to tug the hood with his beak.
“The boon of Nocturnal? Her Gift of Merciful Shadow?" His voice is even harsher delivered straight into Felix's ear. "It softens the bitter edges of the light, veils the bones too sharp for mortal minds to bear.”
“Yes- I know that, but then why didn’t it work?” It didn’t stop Rielle from getting to him. Reminding him…
“How should I know, featherless? It makes things seem no more than the lies they tell, yes? Maybe you are a bad liar!” The Knave scoffs and flaps loudly away into the darkness.
A bad liar? That doesn't even make... Felix nearly laughs until the shooting pain in his ribs makes it a whimper. He doesn't have energy to waste on ruining what little dignity he has left; he shuts up and follows until the Knave circles a pool of shadow, cawing pointedly. The conjurer steps into it- and lands on the rug in a darkened living room.
He doesn’t dare look at his hands until he’s running them under cold water. The burns left by the backlash of the spell are… bad, the skin bubbled and raw. Conjurer’s burn is an occupational hazard but he’s never been so stupid as to let himself fail at a summoning this badly. Never felt the results like this.
He’s infinitely lucky not to be dead, of course. He knows that down to his bones. Lucky to be here - he couldn’t have worked a PINpoint like this.
The burns are nothing he couldn’t heal… if he only had the use of his hands. Felix allows himself to groan and swear with the pain- and the anger at himself. The house is empty, nobody cares. He does have a stash of potions, though the way his body complains he doubts he’ll have anything strong enough to fully tackle what he’s done to himself. He goes for the best one- the emergency elixir stashed in a cupboard, gingerly maneuvering it down to the counter with his seared hands. Hugging it in the crook of his elbow as he painfully gets the stopper off.
When he lifts the hefty bottle to drink- he tips his head back, there’s a moment of nauseating dizziness - it slips out of his fumbling hands, spilling across the counter as it bounces-
-rolls-
-hits the floor and smashes.
Felix stares at the ghastly mess over the tiles. At the ghastly mess of his hands. For some reason all he can think despite the despair and the burning pain is What am I going to tell Jim?
And oddly, that’s when something clicks. He understands, quite suddenly. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, Felix starts to do both. A painful, racking, sobbing laugh as he slumps against the counter and lets himself just… surrender for a minute.
What are you going to tell him? Idiot. You don’t even know what to tell yourself.
Which… is fuck up a ritual in their most hated place and let loose a powerful, bloodthirsty daedric warrior.
Felix utters all the Andorian words Norn’s taught him not to say.
“Are you just going to sit there, featherless? Don’t you know how to walk?” There’s a familiar harshness to the voice; Felix isn’t surprised to lift his head and see the crow sitting in a stunted tree close by. Though in his defence, he thinks, it’s a black bird sitting in a black tree in the realm of eternal night. It doesn’t exactly grab the eye.
“You’re… the Knave of Rooks, aren’t you?” The smallest of the Blackfeather Court, and one of the lowest-ranking, from his observations.
“Correct, mortal!” The bird puffs and preens. “Prince Nocturnal commanded that I should guide you through her glorious realm of Evergloam, in fulfilment of your contract!”
"You? So then..." She didn't set one of her phantom Nightingales to handle this errand. Even a former mortal must outrank the bird. But Felix bites his tongue hard on that. Not the time to start offending his guide with such observations, even if he's inadvertently learning something.
The Knave cocks his head at Felix, the glint of his eyes a violet spark in the gloom. “Well? Speak! Where is it you need to go?”
“Uh-“ To the Enterprise, scream the white-hot nerves in his hands, the ache of his skull and ribs. To the ship and Dr. McCoy and all his wonderful shiny machines for making the pain go right the hell away.
Then he considers the look on Jim’s face when Bones immediately reports this, and winces. Anyway, there’s precious few shadows to fall out of on the Enterprise. He’d be as well going to their quarters and then he might give Jim a nasty surprise to his face.
“Iowa. My home on Earth.” He doesn’t know if that means much to the crow, but maybe that doesn’t matter.
“Very well. Follow! Hurry up!” The crow flaps off, leaving the mage to stumble after him, up the bank of the dark river and through a sparse wood Felix has glimpsed before. He finds his sight starting to adjust to the shadows as he picks his way over rocks and roots, trying to stick to what path there is. The bird calls to him again each time he drops behind, harsh and grating and peppered with commentary Felix can’t concentrate enough to be annoyed by.
The pain in his hands ebbs and throbs in turns. Eventually he musters himself to speak again, just to distract himself.
“Hey… Knave? You’re a servant of Nocturnal. A… a wise noble of this realm. Can you tell me… why the hood I wear didn’t protect my mind, from… from the foul place I delved into?”
The compliments seem to do the trick: the bird stops to preen instead of complaining about the question. He seems to hesitate, though. Felix nearly flinches when he flies down to the conjurer’s shoulder, leans over to tug the hood with his beak.
“The boon of Nocturnal? Her Gift of Merciful Shadow?" His voice is even harsher delivered straight into Felix's ear. "It softens the bitter edges of the light, veils the bones too sharp for mortal minds to bear.”
“Yes- I know that, but then why didn’t it work?” It didn’t stop Rielle from getting to him. Reminding him…
“How should I know, featherless? It makes things seem no more than the lies they tell, yes? Maybe you are a bad liar!” The Knave scoffs and flaps loudly away into the darkness.
A bad liar? That doesn't even make... Felix nearly laughs until the shooting pain in his ribs makes it a whimper. He doesn't have energy to waste on ruining what little dignity he has left; he shuts up and follows until the Knave circles a pool of shadow, cawing pointedly. The conjurer steps into it- and lands on the rug in a darkened living room.
He doesn’t dare look at his hands until he’s running them under cold water. The burns left by the backlash of the spell are… bad, the skin bubbled and raw. Conjurer’s burn is an occupational hazard but he’s never been so stupid as to let himself fail at a summoning this badly. Never felt the results like this.
He’s infinitely lucky not to be dead, of course. He knows that down to his bones. Lucky to be here - he couldn’t have worked a PINpoint like this.
The burns are nothing he couldn’t heal… if he only had the use of his hands. Felix allows himself to groan and swear with the pain- and the anger at himself. The house is empty, nobody cares. He does have a stash of potions, though the way his body complains he doubts he’ll have anything strong enough to fully tackle what he’s done to himself. He goes for the best one- the emergency elixir stashed in a cupboard, gingerly maneuvering it down to the counter with his seared hands. Hugging it in the crook of his elbow as he painfully gets the stopper off.
When he lifts the hefty bottle to drink- he tips his head back, there’s a moment of nauseating dizziness - it slips out of his fumbling hands, spilling across the counter as it bounces-
-rolls-
-hits the floor and smashes.
Felix stares at the ghastly mess over the tiles. At the ghastly mess of his hands. For some reason all he can think despite the despair and the burning pain is What am I going to tell Jim?
And oddly, that’s when something clicks. He understands, quite suddenly. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, Felix starts to do both. A painful, racking, sobbing laugh as he slumps against the counter and lets himself just… surrender for a minute.
What are you going to tell him? Idiot. You don’t even know what to tell yourself.
Much, much later in the day...
He relents, in the end, in favor of getting the space back and getting Jim somewhere he'll sleep properly. But only after the captain's promised to make sure Felix doesn't go anywhere.
The upshot is that it'll be well into Beta shift before they're back in their own quarters and properly alone with each other once more. Felix sighs and relaxes back into the relative softness of their own pillows.
"You must be getting hungry by now. Or do you want a nap first?"
Re: Much, much later in the day...
Everything else can be handled with ample amounts of rest. Which, after a very long day spent fussing over Felix is something Jim needs as well. Unluckily for everyone, he's still upset about how Felix got hurt in the first place and much too used to pushing himself when he needs to sit down for a while.
Jim's gotten Felix propped up with a bunch of pillows on their bed in their quarters and has disappeared from the man's side to get himself a replicated coffee. He'd have gone for one of the minor stamina potions as well if he didn't know it'd earn him an earful from Felix. Jim doesn't see the problem, personally. That's what they're for.
"Just getting a coffee." The captain confirms it by holding the mug aloft for Felix to see once he's fetched it. "....You want some tea or anything?"
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"...But yes. Please. I'd appreciate some tea." It'll be a change from water and it's something to help Jim feel useful. Will require him to settle down beside his husband to help him drink, even.
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"I'll get it now." Just half a cup for starters. It's easier for Jim to help Felix drink from a cup when it's not so full. They might have found this out the hard way already. Jim's not taking the risk with a hot beverage. Not when Felix is already burned.
When he comes back Jim's going to set both mugs down on the side table nearest Felix's side of the bed. There's no room to pull up a chair so he'll have to settle on the side of the bed next to Felix.
"It's not scalding hot but..." His gaze strays to Felix's bandages. Jim scowls. "Maybe we should wait a few minutes."
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Still. He's going to be careful when he moves Felix's mug over to help his husband get a drink. His expression always softens when he's doing this but there haven't been a whole lot of smiles on Jim's part since Felix got brought back to the ship.
"Easy. I've got it...."
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"...Thanks. It's good..." He'll take a few sips with Jim's help before he sits back. Peers sidelong at Jim's expression.
"Come on. You should be resting, too. You don't need to worry now."
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Felix is watching carefully, so he'll catch the way Jim clenches his teeth before he hides behind his mug. He's not drinking now, just buying himself a few precious seconds to think before he opens his mouth and says the first thing that comes to mind.
"...Oh, really?"
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"Of course." He hesitates after it's said, twisting to search Jim's face. "...I know you're upset with me. But I'm back now, and safe. Thanks to you." All good, see?
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Really, it's Jim's own fault in a few ways. If he's right and Felix did go back to that hellish place on his own it was surely because he didn't want Jim or Stratos to be forced into going. It's only making his chest ache all the more.
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He'd really hoped he could avoid this at least until they were more rested. Should have known better: should have realized the captain would find no rest until some of this was out in the open.
"...I thought Kav told you most of it," he says carefully. "You said before... you knew where I'd been. That I'd gone back... there."
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There's very few places that could have that kind of history for Jim and Stratos. Even less in Cyrodiil proper. Felix didn't get to see them get nearly eaten in the marshes after all.
"Of course I was going to assume it was--" Jim swallows roughly and shakes his head. "You were in so much pain when I found you..."
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"Jim... Jim it's... you're right. I did go there. And it hurt so damned much but I got out and I'm safe now, I promise." At least, until he figures out what to do about the new problems he's created...
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"You lied to me again. Snuck off and...I could have helped! You didn't even call me for help, you didn't even get what you were looking for and...." He's biting back the hurtful things he wants to throw. Jim wants to start a fight wants to shout because it will be better than the sick ache he feels in his chest. instead.
But Felix can't fight back like this. Felix is hurt because of Jim.
"And now we have to go back again." He doesn't know the half of it.
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"No." He's pushing himself upright again. "That was the whole reason I couldn't- I would have asked for your help if it was anything else, I swear to you. But I couldn't ask you to go back there. You or Stratos. You already suffered through that place for me once."
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"Felix you could have been killed and none of us would have even known where to look. I GET that you were trying to protect me. Protect us, even. But you can't handle this alone!"
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Well. Half his doing.
He opens his mouth to try and explain that but Jim's next words shut him up hard. He could have died. Jim doesn't even know how close he came to it, in fact. And then what would have happened? He'd have just abandoned his family- abandoned Jim- without explanation or farewell or even the hope of answers. Never knowing that the man they looked for lay dead and unburied in the one place they thought they'd rescued him from.
Felix swallows hard, but the lump won't leave his throat.
"...I know." He draws a heavy breath. "I thought I had a way around it. A way to conjure up a solution. But all I've done is make things worse."
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"What's it going to take, Felix? What. Do. I have to do. To get you to stop hiding this shit from me? To understand that I trust and respect your expertise as a goddamned mage?" There's tears in Jim's eyes but he's too busy shaking his head.
"How many times are we going to repeat this? How fucking open and honest and upfront with you do I have to be before it gets returned in any capacity? Sure I wouldn't have liked the thought of going back to Rielle but we could have had a plan. Sent you in with some gear that might have given you an edge. Something. Anything."
How many more times are they going to do this before Felix doesn't make it back? Before he pays a price behind Jim's back that he can't save the mage from?
"How many away missions have I sat out because you took ill to the idea of me going? Why is it always..." He has to stop. Jim's going to start shouting otherwise and he doesn't think that's going to help anyone. It's not fair and Felix knows it. But the damage is already done. Jim can't change that this has happened, all he can do is try to help fix it.
Again.
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He wants to wrap his arms around Jim and pull him close. Assure his love that he knows, he's sorry he should never have done this- but tension radiates from Jim's posture and he knows- not now. It would be an empty gesture yet.
"It's not about your trust," he blurts out instead. Corrects himself: "I mean- I know you have faith in me. More than anyone else I've ever known. I'm afraid of you putting yourself in danger to help me- to fix my mistakes. It's not fair that you should always be sacrificed either!"
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Bruises Jim can handle. Hell, a broken bone can be mended. This? This awful ache and knifing pain in his chest and stomach? This is not the kind of pain Jim has ever been good at handling. Felix is hurt and moreover he has never once actually taken the bait when Jim has tried to goad him into a fight before. The last thing Jim wants to do is see his husband's face twist in agony. Especially not when he's the cause.
Which leaves Jim near bursting with anger he has no outlet for. Hurt he doesn't want to give a voice to.
"Then what the fuck did we even swear vows for...?" When Jim turns round to look back at their bed his face is tight with held back emotion.
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"Because I love you. So that we'd care for each other and..." Speak truth to each other. Be each other's shield. Stand together against your troubles. Felix pushes himself up, ignoring the twinge through his medicated numbness as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed.
"And I know I'm not living up to those vows but I swore myself to you and I meant it." Don't say things like that don't question this no no no nono...
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So he's actually shocked into spinning round when he hears Felix trying to get up. His husband's face is nearly as pale as it had been the other night.
"Felix--" But he's cut off and it's genuine fear in Felix's voice. Jim's sigh is half exasperated and half relieved that something finally seems to be getting through. "Felix sit down, I'm not leaving you." Jim's at the side of the bed in only a couple full strides, his warm hands on Felix's shoulders.
"It's just goddamned hard to help support you when you won't let me stand by you when you actually need it."
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"Then- you need to promise that you'll tell me what you need. That you won't just take on every burden and pay the price after." He can't feel it, when he cups Jim's face in his hands, but his touch is no less urgent for being clumsy.
"I just don't want to keep causing you pain."
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"I'm Already honest with you, Felix." Tension underlying every word. Jim's grip on his husband is gentle but his words are anything but in the moment. Felix knows what Jim's feeling half the time before he does it feels like.
"I don't know what more you want from me."
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"I know we talked about this stuff, after the storm. I know I promised to share my plans with you, and I should have. I would have, I swear, if it hadn't involved... Rielle."No hiding from the name now, no use any more in flinching away and hiding from the thought of it. "I just want to know that if I tell you about something like this you won't insist on putting yourself in danger. That you'll think about yourself, too."
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