#and tulkar is baffled but trying to be respectful

[beingatoaster]

Hadn’t done any of the October prompts lately because none were really catching my eye and I was managing to get some good writing done without really needing warm-ups, but then I took three days off and definitely needed a warm-up. And the spooky-prompt list still wasn’t doing it for me, but another list on the server had “fanfiction trope” for today’s prompt, and, well, I have a favorite.

Coyote and I have discussed this one, and we talked about it from Sudryal’s POV, but when I went to write it I discovered quickly that I was more in a mood for Tulkar’s mindset today. I didn’t want to write a nightmare, I wanted to write cuddling.

---

Some of the humans Tulkar had met down here in the south had very strange notions about... well, everything. But today, the problem was beds.

Not that it was really a problem for Tulkar, aside from the space issues, since he knew from experience that human beds didn't really have the capacity for a full-blooded orc in the first place. But he knew how to make do. It was Sudryal who was stuck on it.

He'd argued with the innkeeper a bit, to start with. It was hard to argue with the man physically not having more than two rooms open, but he'd dug in then on the premise that Tulkar and Sudryal had to room together, and Grai and Josephine had to do the same.

(Once the innkeeper had been convinced that things shouldn't be in some other order entirely, because, like most humans Tulkar had met, he didn't have any clue how to read anyone's presentation not from his own culture. Tulkar had gotten used to giving southerners some grace on that. He still didn't know how to read theirs, after all, and he'd learned fast that for some reason they considered it rude to ask about it.)

But for all Sudryal's arguments, the innkeeper had stuck fast on what seemed to be, for him, an unbreakable custom: if they weren't married to each other, men and women couldn't sleep in the same room. So here they were. Tulkar didn't know what the problem was, really.

...Well, that wasn't true. He could guess what the problem was. Sudryal wasn't as subtle as he thought he was. But Tulkar didn't know what to do about it, if Sudryal wasn't willing to admit anything, except carry on as if they weren't both glancing at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking.

"Bet you wish you'd let them go ahead and think Grai and I were together, right?" he teased gently, smiling over his shoulder at Sudryal.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sudryal snapped, his cheeks yellowing, and then turned sharply away. In a lower mutter as he started unstrapping his bedroll, he added, "The two of you in one bed would've broken it, and then we'd have had to pay damages on top of the regular price."

"I'd hope they aren't that flimsy," Tulkar said, glancing at the bed.

It was a bit wider than some of the tinier cots he'd slept in in the past, at least--not quite a double bed, certainly not large enough to fit an orc couple, but of a size that two humans would fit fine without either falling off the edge. He was pretty hefty, but Sudryal was pretty small, so he thought it would balance out.

"I can sleep on the floor," Sudryal said, and started to unroll his bedding. "It'll save us both having to try to squeeze into that bed."

"What? You don't need to do that," Tulkar protested. He wasn't surprised by the stab of disappointment that lanced through him, but he tried to keep it out of his voice. "We paid for a room for a reason. You were complaining that the ground was wearing on your back. If someone needs to sleep on the floor, I should."

"I was complaining because I'm a cranky old man," Sudryal said. "And because everyone's tired, and needs rest. Josephine's been drooping like an overwatered flower the past few days. But you don't need to sleep on the floor. I can tell you're sore. I've been sleeping on hard surfaces for two hundred years or so, another night's not going to kill me."

"Everyone's tired and sore," Tulkar said. "And that means everyone needs rest. You included. Try the bed, and if it doesn't work out, we can rearrange ourselves later on. But I'd feel terrible if you were on the floor the whole night."

Sudryal hesitated, and Tulkar wondered if they were going to be arguing for the next half hour about this. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine," he muttered. "But I don't cuddle."

"I didn't expect you to," Tulkar said, truthfully, and since both of them were busy with their own unpacking at the moment, he didn't have to worry about Sudryal seeing the expression on his face. Sudryal could use some cuddling, and Tulkar would've been happy to provide it.

Sudryal could use a lot of things he wasn't getting, in Tulkar's opinion. But he didn't seem interested in letting anyone provide them.

At least it wasn't personal, Tulkar comforted himself.

Getting ready for bed was a quick affair--both of them spent a bit of time tending to their armor, and then to their personal hygiene, for which the inn considerately provided a pitcher of water and a large bowl. Tulkar left that to Sudryal, and went out to the inn behind the stables to use the water pump there, instead, because his face-paint would have taken most of the pitcher to remove. By the time he'd got back, Sudryal had changed entirely into nightclothes, which was about what Sudryal had expected, and was sitting looking over his bow with his back pointedly to the rest of the room. Tulkar took the opportunity to change himself.

He climbed into bed first, because he was fairly certain that if he tried to put himself between Sudryal and the door, like his instincts told him to, Sudryal's own instincts would react like he was being trapped instead of protected. And if he realized what Tulkar was doing, his pride would erupt, instead. Laying deliberately on his back, he closed his eyes and started to wind his thoughts down.

It took a while for Sudryal to finish with his bow. Longer than it usually did, but Tulkar wasn't going to comment. Eventually, there was a rustle of blankets and a dip in the bed as Sudryal climbed in. Tulkar, scrunched up as far against the wall as he could, kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady and didn't move.

Sudryal's shoulder bumped his a couple of times as the elf arranged himself, but despite the amount of bedspace that Tulkar's breadth was taking up, he managed to keep a good inch or so of space between him. Tulkar could feel his presence, the slight warmth along his left side and the slight dip of the bed from his weight, but he resisted the urge to shift his arm out and close the distance. No cuddling.

He practiced his breathing exercises, instead, cycling through the slower and slower ones until he was so calm and detached that he was floating. It was an easy state to fall into sleep from, especially when he was already tired. Sudryal's breathing hadn't softened or slowed at all beside him by the time sleep carried him away.

It must have at some point, because Tulkar was woken by it speeding up, suddenly, going harsh and frantic at his side. Sudryal wasn't thrashing, exactly, but even without touching him Tulkar could feel by the reverberations in the bed that he was stiff-limbed and trembling. He looked over to see Sudryal's eyes closed, his face drawn, mouth clamped tight on any cry that would otherwise escape.

No cuddling, Sudryal had asked, and Tulkar wanted to respect that, but--he knew a nightmare when he saw it. And he couldn't not do anything about it. Rolling over onto his side, he threw an arm over Sudryal's taut shoulders, intending to shake him awake.

As soon as his arm landed, though, Sudryal curled over onto his side, clutching onto it, pulling himself into the crook of Tulkar's elbow. He was still asleep, as far as Tulkar could tell, but he nestled close, keeping Tulkar's wrist and forearm in a death-grip and pressing his face into it. He broke into ragged gasps, doubled over under Tulkar's arm like a man who had just outrun death and was overwhelmed by the sudden knowledge that he was going to live after all.

(Which was something Tulkar had seen, a time or two. The spirits of the forest might care for the tribes within, but that didn't mean they protected every individual from bears and cold and moose and river rapids, not if an orc was foolish.)

Tulkar tugged just a little, to pull Sudryal closer, the elf's back flush against his chest. He knew Sudryal had said he didn't want any cuddling, but that gasping was already leveling out, the tension in him easing, except for the death-grip he had on Tulkar's arm. Maybe his pride didn't want it, but his body did. Tulkar would apologize in the morning.

And if it made his heart beat a little faster to have Sudryal so close, if feeling Sudryal relax against him and settle down out of his nightmare made pride pulse in Tulkar's chest, well. He was supposed to be a protector and a caretaker. He could be a little proud. Even if he was also being a little selfish.

He faded off to sleep with Sudryal still holding his arm like a life-line, and woke in almost the exact same position. There were no windows in the room, but there was enough sunlight shining through cracks in the one outside wall that he could tell the sun had risen a fair distance. Normally he was awake by now. And normally Sudryal was awake before him, but his breathing was still in the slow steady rhythms of sleep.

Tulkar scooted backwards a little bit, giving Sudryal an inch or so of space, which was as much as both the small bed and the capture of his arm allowed. Then he propped himself up on his elbow and watched the elf sleep in the faint sunlight, studying the way all the stress and ire had vanished in the night. His face was almost soft, right now, his lips slack and slightly parted, his temple for once smooth, one thin cheek pillowed against the back of Tulkar's hand. Though his high, pointy cheekbone dug in just enough to remind Tulkar that he was still perfectly sharp.

Sudryal woke slowly, blinking sleep out of his eyes, and then went tense abruptly as he realized where he was and what he was doing. He let go of Tulkar's arm like it was on fire, scrambling up and out of the bed so fast that he tipped over the edge and hit the floor.

Leaning over the edge, Tulkar couldn't resist the urge to smile down at him. "Sleep well?"

"Fine," Sudryal said, blushing so hard that his yellow-green skin was inching towards orange, not quite meeting Tulkar's eyes. "I slept fine."

He was so clearly biting back an angry reaction from the fear of further embarrassment that Tulkar nearly choked holding in his laugh. "So did I," he said instead of laughing, still smiling down at Sudryal. "Let's hope that Grai and Josephine had as good a rest."

Sudryal made a sound like a goat being strangled and looked firmly away from Tulkar. "I'm sure they did," he said, through gritted teeth, and rose to begin rummaging through his pack.

"We'll ask at breakfast," Tulkar agreed, and then, knowing that he should probably give Sudryal some space, added, "I'll be a little longer, to get my paint on, so go ahead down without me."

"I'll do that," Sudryal said, pulling clothing out, and Tulkar got out of bed and politely turned to his own pack while Sudryal started undressing. Then, much more quietly, Sudryal added, "My back does feel a lot better than it would have if I'd slept on the floor."

That was the best Tulkar was going to get, he thought--more than he'd expected, if anything. "I'm glad," he said simply, and started to make himself ready to face the day.