#i will never not cry over zolf and hamid. i think about them for too long and feel like im gonna throw up

[rqg179]

zolf in rqg207 is so much. nearly crying on this coach over him turning around mid-battle ready to absolutely obliterate this thing, seeing hamid nearly dead on the floor, and stopping everything else he was doing because "absolutely not"

[kellanswritingblog]

“Hey, Hamid, you got a minute?”  Zolf wheeled over next to Hamid as they both found themselves at a lull in the reunion.

“Sure!  How are you?”

Zolf gave a noncommittal shrug in response, and Hamid nodded knowingly.  Then, Zolf added, “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a dick.”

“Zolf, I mean this in a kind way, but when has that ever stopped you before?”

For a split second, Hamid regretted his words.  Zolf was actually reaching out, trying to make conversation with him despite all of the time and arguments between them, and the first thing he did was call him rude.

However, he didn’t have to worry long, as almost immediately Zolf let out a loud laugh, a sound neither of them had heard in far too long.  Hamid couldn’t help but smile as he did so.

“You know, that’s fair,” Zolf said.  “I guess, I just want to say, I know you’re not doing well, and-”

Hamid slumped and sighed, then tried to right himself as much as possible.  “Is it that obvious?”

“I know we didn’t really spend that much time together, but when you fight alongside someone…  I can tell.  I think we all can.  The others are just too polite to say something outright.”

With a smile, Hamid teased, “Your bedside manner did always leave something to be desired.”

“And it hasn’t gotten any better,” Zolf chuckled, then he continued.  “If there’s anything I can do to help with things, let me know, yeah?  I don’t know what I can do, but if you think of anything, just say the word.  I know losing magic hit me hard; I can’t imagine how it’s been for you.”

Hamid scoffed into his drink.  “Please. You needed magic to walk.  I used it to do my makeup and tailoring.  I should be handling it better.”

“Magic was a part of you, mate, part of who you were, and you lost that.  It was a tie to your family and your past.  Plus, I saw you in combat.  Fireballs and lightning bolts and magical armor – you saved my life more than once.  Your magic did a lot; we wouldn’t be standing here today, one way or another, without it.” After a pause, Zolf added, “And, listen, I never entirely understood the whole obsession with prestidigitation all the time, what between you and Wilde always worried about how your suits fit, but it was important to you, and that means that being without it is hard.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Hamid’s fingers tightened around his glass as he tried not to cry.  “A lot of people have it worse, though.  I have a family I can go back to, a home that was able to be repaired without too much trouble.  I shouldn’t be worried about magic, or even my own line of clothing.”

“They matter to you, so they matter,” Zolf insisted.  “Just because someone else has it worse doesn’t mean it can’t still hurt.  I know I spent long enough dismissing my own pain because of that mentality, and it still gets me sometimes.  And, Hamid, I don’t mean to upset you,” he said as he noticed the tears at the edges of Hamid’s eyes, “I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Hamid whipped around a little more intensely than he meant to.  As he did so, Zolf looked down at his hands.

“I mean, we’re all here for you, but I can’t speak for the others.  I can speak for me, though, and I wish there was something I could do to help you out, to help you feel more like yourself in this new world.  Or to give you back your prestidigitation, if nothing else.”  He smiled, briefly meeting Hamid’s gaze for a moment and then looking away.

“I think I overheard that you might be staying with Wilde for a while?”  Hamid asked several moments later, choking down a sob.

“Yeah, that’s the, uh, that’s the plan.”

“I might come visit, if that’s alright.”

“Of course.  I mean, it’s Wilde’s place, so you’d have to ask him, but I know I’d be happy to see you.”

Hamid chuckled, “Though, it would only be fair for me to break into his place after he broke into mine, all those years ago.”

“I think I headbutted him?” Zolf said as he scratched the top of his head.

With that, both of them burst out laughing.  “We’ve had a crazy ride, haven’t we?”  Hamid said.

“We have.  And it’s not over yet.  Come visit, or maybe I can come visit you in Cairo.”

Hamid beamed.  “I’d like that.”

“Again, like, if there’s anything I can do…  I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I think I kind of understand what you’re going through, in a way. You’ve lost a part of yourself.”  Zolf gestured to his missing legs. “Not quite the same, of course, but…”

“Thank you, Zolf.  I really appreciate it.  And, obviously, if there’s anything I can do for you…”

“We’ll keep in touch, yeah? Something I want to try and do with everyone, truthfully, since I’ve never been very good at it.”

“You are entirely within your right to say no, but do you think I could give you a hug?”

Zolf rolled his eyes and sighed, but there was a smile on his lips.  “Yeah, alright.”

Hamid lunged forward to embrace Zolf.  Zolf was a bit slower to move his arms around Hamid, patting him on the back as if he still wasn’t quite sure what to do in a hug.  Not wanting to overstay his welcome, Hamid gave a quick squeeze and then drew back, wiping his tears as he did so.

“It’s good to see you again, Zolf.”

“Yeah… I wasn’t sure I was going to come, to be honest, but… I’m glad I did.”

Hamid smiled.  “I’m glad you did too.”

[adhduck]

Oh Well, I Guess We’re Gonna Pretend

AO3

(Major spoilers for rqg 207)

Wilde is at a party with all his loved ones, and everything in his life is finally falling into place.

He’s also unconscious on the floor of the world’s last safehouse, and something is coming for him.

--

“Come on, Oscar, dance with us.”

Wilde blinks, realizes Hamid is standing in front of him with his hand outstretched; probably a symbolic gesture, considering he’d be hard-pressed to pull someone double his height.

Smiling, Wilde sets his half-empty champagne flute on the table. “Of course. Care to join, Zolf?”

Zolf, who’s slouching in the next seat with his long, worn coat tucked around him in a fabulous display of I am not a party person, scoffs fondly. “Absolutely not. ‘Sides, it’s yer party, Wilde, not mine.”

“It’s our party,” Wilde says with mock offense, putting a hand on his chest. “Didn’t you hear my toast?”

“Half of it, maybe.”

Wilde rolls his eyes, but relents and squeezes Zolf’s shoulder; presses down a smile when Zolf catches his hand for a second and pats it. “I’ll get you to have fun one day, Zolf, mark my words.” He’s rewarded with a gruff little mumble, and then Hamid tugs on his coattail to pull him away.

[Cel is still reeling from the shock of electricity when they see it. It’s large, with a body that could be humanoid if not for the oversized head, how its body seems not to take up space but distort it. If not for the six-foot swords it has instead of arms.

Instinct kicking in, Cel pulls two bombs from their pockets and throws them in rapid succession. Even with their hands trembling a little – they always do, the first few moments of combat – Cel know each one is perfectly weighted and near perfectly aimed.

The creature doesn’t even flinch.

It only takes a moment to process what that means – limited bombs, a 5% chance of hitting at best, almost a third of their own health taken in one hit – before Cel abandons the idea of attacking and reaches instead for Hamid. He’s desperately light, clothes singed and hissing; as Cel pulls him to their chest, he curls instinctively into the touch.

“Hang on, little buddy,” they whisper, trying fiercely to sound sure. “You just keep dreaming for now; I’ll keep you safe.”

They just need to get him through the door.]

There are a few people dancing, but the clear stars are Azu and Kiko—partly due to Azu’s shimmering, lightly glowing pink gown, but mostly because of the dance itself. It’s a bright, lively partner dance Wilde hasn’t seen before, where they pull in and out of each other’s embrace with twirls and dips and lots of laughter. It looks equally exhausting and exhilarating.

Azu notices him mid-spin and brightens immediately, waving him over. “Kiko, you mind if I show Wilde the ropes?”

Kiko grins and gracefully steps back, half-bowing in the process. “Yeah, sure. Long as I can watch.”

So Azu works Wilde through the steps, out of sync with the music at first to get them right, then faster as he gains confidence, and soon they, too, are spinning and laughing. “You,” Wilde says when they pause to catch their breath, adjusting the frill around his neck, “are an excellent dance partner, Azu.”

Azu preens a little. “Oh, thank you! Though I doubt I’ve got much competition, knowing Zolf.”

Chuckling, Wilde glances at the man in question to find him looking back, chin in hand and a fond smile tugging at his mouth—for a moment, at least, before he darts his eyes away with flushing cheeks. Wilde’s heart sings.

[Azu looks sharply between her friends – half of them unconscious, all of them wounded – and the advancing creature. It seems completely unconcerned by the weapons being pulled as it wades into the fray, dodging a heavy swing from Zolf without even acknowledging him. The swords protruding from its shoulders are almost as long as she is tall.

We can’t win this, Azu realizes. Not while it’s this strong. Pressing a hand to her chest, where her pendant rests safely beneath the armor, she calls to her goddess with words of love and protection and rage. The divine energy builds in her chest, bringing the dull glow of her armor to a bright shine; she throws her hand outwards, flinging the energy with it in all directions, and there—at last, the creature hesitates. It stops as suddenly as if caught in a rockslide, making a noise halfway between a groan of pain and the grinding of stuck gears, and Azu starts to feel hopeful.

Then, it raises its blade.]

Azu catches the movement and smiles conspiratorially. “You know, there are gardens out back that are much quieter than in here.”

”Ah, but you forget,” Wilde replies, putting on his best performer voice. “That just guarantees Sasha will be there, hidden amongst the foliage, waiting to strike.”

Giggling a little, Azu says, “The worst you’ll get from her is some rumors about you and Zolf that are actually true.”

Wilde gasps in (mostly) faux horror. “Don’t even say that.”

Azu laughs for real now, a full and surprised thing, and pushes his shoulder lightly. “Go spend time with him, the party will survive without you a while.” Wilde pouts a little at that, and she tips her head toward Hamid; he’s dancing with complete abandon a few feet away, wings half-unfurled and arms raised high in the air as he spins. Already, a few people have been pulled into his orbit, letting their awkward shuffling loosen into something more inelegant, more natural. “We’ve got it covered. Now go, before you start having deadlines again.”

“To be fair, we have an entire holiday between now and then,” Wilde argues—a bit superfluously, considering he’s already moving away.

Zolf greets Wilde’s approach by sitting up in his chair, eyebrows furrowed and hands raised defensively. “If you try to get me to dance, Wilde, I swear to gods—”

“Already learned my lesson with that one, darling.” Zolf’s ears go a little pink, and Wilde is powerless against the urge to lean into it. “Of course, there are plenty of dances we haven’t tried together—”

“Oh, sod off,” Zolf says, kicking Wilde lightly in the shin; his ears are red, though, so he’s already lost the fight.

[Augusta makes no noise as she’s stabbed through the heart; dead before the pain had a chance to wake her. It’s a mercy, perhaps, but one Cel refuses to let happen to anyone else.

The creature shifts, pulling back its bloodied weapon with Hamid as the clear target, and Cel lunges towards the door, clutching Hamid fiercely against them—and is stopped cold as the creature pierces right through Hamid’s chest.

Like Augusta, Hamid doesn’t cry out when he’s stabbed. He doesn’t move, either; not even when the blade is yanked back out with just force it nearly tugs him from Cel’s arms. Panting, they gather him back against their chest, whatever miniscule safety that might entail, and feel for a pulse. It’s there, thank gods, but only just. He might only have seconds left, and there’s nothing they can do.

At the corner of Hamid’s mouth, Cel can see a smile – the kind he might give during the opening toast of a party, now just the shadow of some wonderful dream – and they do not cry, because what fucking good would that do?]

Just to seal the deal, Wilde drops to his knees in front of Zolf’s chair, bringing them almost eye to eye, and flashes his shiniest grin as he teases, “Don’t worry, I know you love it.” He allows a few seconds for Zolf to huff and pointedly not answer, feeling his chest radiate with warmth, then adds, “Anyway, want to get out of here?”

Zolf’s eyebrows raise, then quickly furrow. “What’re you- that was an awful transition line, ya know. Unless you’re tryna seduce me or somethin’, in which case, why.”

“I’m always trying to seduce you, Zolf, it just never works,” Wilde replies easily. “That’s why I enjoy it so much. And anyway, that’s not what I was asking about. There’s apparently a garden out back, and I thought you might want to take a walk with me.”

“Ain’t you got allergies?”

“It’ll be quiet out there. Poetic.”

Zolf considers for a second, looking Wilde over with a slowly forming smile he’s definitely not conscious of, and for a moment there’s nothing else Wilde wants more than this: kneeling in front of the man he loves, basking in his quiet attention, knowing there’s exciting work ahead and time enough to rest before it comes.

[Zolf spins around, ready to level another attack – he hasn’t hit the thing yet, but maybe if he aims a little lower, forces it to turn for him instead – when he sees the blade sliding out of Hamid’s chest. No. Absolutely not. Without checking it’s clear, he rushes forward, dropping the glaive to his side and redirecting that power into the tips of his fingers. He licks his thumb, presses it firmly to Hamid’s forehead, and, with a low note of please humming in the back of his chest, mutters words of hope and determination into the staticky air.

The wound heals almost immediately, closing like a budding flower in reverse to leave a raised, slightly jagged line of scar tissue; the only proof of how close Hamid was to death. His wings flutter, trying to unfurl in the confines of Cel’s arms, and for a moment, he stirs. Zolf and Cel both breathe out in relief, but by the time he opens his eyes, the poison overcomes him again, and he curls back into Cel’s chest with a contented sound, asleep and completely unaware of the danger around him.

Not exactly what I had in mind, Zolf thinks, but there’s no sharpness to it. The poison in the air was strong enough to knock out people twice Hamid’s size, so he can’t imagine how strong it must be on him. And besides: this might not be a fight where all of them – any of them – get out alive. Can he really blame Hamid for wanting to dream instead?]

“All right, Wilde,” Zolf says at last. “Let’s go for a walk.”

The gardens aren’t particularly large, but they use the space well—bright flowers lining the walkway, bushes and trees bunched together to create the illusion of depth and privacy. Beneath the largest tree, there’s a clear spot where the light filters through like sparkles and the roots breach the soil in just the right way to make a sort of alcove.

It’s exactly the sort of place Wilde would’ve yearned to write poetry in as a teenager, so of course he tugs Zolf over to sit down.

“Thought this was a walk,” Zolf says, eyebrows raised, but makes no argument when Wilde lays down with his head in Zolf’s  lap. His fingers quickly find their way into Wilde’s hair, untangling it little by little, and Wilde can’t stop himself from pushing into the touch with a little hum. Thankfully, Zolf just chuckles, scratching lightly at Wilde’s scalp for a moment before continuing.

There’s silence for a few moments, and Wilde idly searches for a pun he can use to fill it; it’s difficult to focus, though, when Zolf is gathering his hair into sections for a braid, those careful fingers brushing occasionally against his temple, his neck, his jaw.

Finally, what Wilde settles for is: “I hope we’re actually allowed out here. I’d hate to go home early because Grizzop took a swing at me again.”

Zolf snorts. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve always wished I had seen that in person.”

“Some partner you are,” Wilde grumbles, trying not to melt when Zolf tucks a few shorter strands of hair behind his ear. “S’posed to defend me, not join the enemy.”

[Zolf does a rapid once-over of Cel to make sure they’re not injured as well. They’re panting and wide-eyed and definitely only not in shock because there’s not time for it, but seem physically all right, which is about as much as he can hope for right now.

He glances to the door of the lab, where Ada and Skraak also seem to be managing okay—and, importantly, where there’s clean air and a door between them and the monster. Grabbing Cel’s arm, Zolf injects as much authority in his voice as he can and orders, “Get in there, close the door, be safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he sets his glaive on fire and turns back to the fight. They might not all make it out of here – always a risk, in this line of work – but he’ll still do his damndest to make sure at least some of them do.]

There’s no response, save for a suppressed smile and the continuous back-and-forth motion of Zolf’s steady hands. Wilde basks in it for a moment, getting to lay quietly in the grass without even his allergies interrupting them. It brings to mind when he was a child, rolling down muddy hills with his sister and seeing how long the world tiled after they reached the bottom, dazed and laughing.

“She would have loved this party,” he says, brushing a hand through the barely damp grass at his hip. “Isola, I mean.”

“You could’ve brought her, you know,” Zolf replies. “I could’ve- I dunno, watched her, or somethin’. Not like I was doing much anyway.”

Wilde laughs. “She would be terrified of you.”

[Moving has already proven dangerous, so Cel shifts Hamid in their arms and throws him through the door; once he’s safely inside, they swallow their alchemical allocation and pull a previously untouched potion from their jacket. Dragon’s breath—the one they’d been so excited to get after seeing a glimpse of Hamid’s power; the one they’d chattered back and forth about days or maybe months ago, excited to see when Cel might try it out.

“Not leaving you,” Cel says firmly to Zolf’s back, and chugs the potion. Lightning crackles in their body once again, except this time, it feels powerful instead of painful. This time, Cel is going to be helpful instead of helpless. Whatever it takes.]

Zolf snorts. “Oh, so that’s why I haven’t met her yet.”

“Yes, I’m just absolutely terrified you’ll smite her with all your holy rage,” Wilde deadpans, twisting obediently when Zolf taps the side of his head. “Or gods forbid, convert her to hope.”

“Oi,” Zolf says, tugging lightly on Wilde’s hair. “That hope has saved your arse twenty times by now.”

[Azu catches sight of Hamid breathing and nearly crumples with relief. He’s not dead, she didn’t kill him, she might not have to lose someone else—but there’s not time for that, not yet. They have to destroy this thing first, before it hurts anyone else.

She swings her axe as hard as she can, a scream building in her throat as it moans through the air, and – miraculously – it connects. There’s a satisfying thunk, a sharp note of pain; but as she goes to hit it again, it seems not just to dodge, but actively unform and reform around her axe. Learning. Adapting.

In the second it takes for Azu to regain her footing, the monster sinks one of its blades into Sumutnyerl’s chest. The air seems to freeze for a moment, but the strike is lower than it intended, in the stomach rather than the heart, so maybe it isn’t fatal, but Azu doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.]

Humming noncommittally, Wilde turns his head to look at Zolf, and when he sees the concentration in Zolf’s summer sky eyes, he’s pierced all over again with the force of how much he loves this man—and how much he, in return, is loved. Gods, Zolf is smiling the way he only ever does for a Campbell, and he’s braiding Wilde’s hair as if it’s the most important work his hands have been tasked with, and he looks so utterly, brilliantly happy that Wilde can hardly stand it.

“You alive in there?” Zolf says, tapping him lightly on the cheek.

[There is only one person left unharmed, the horror of the situation made almost a farce by Wilde’s oversized neck ruff and glittering cape. Almost, but not quite, because when the creature turns – body shifting in and out of focus, sword-like arms dripping with the blood of every other being in this corridor – it turns for him.]

Wilde smiles, catching Zolf’s hand before he can pull away. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stupidly fond with it, and rests his lips against Zolf’s knuckles. Zolf’s breath hitches, staring with undisguised awe and quickly reddening cheeks, and Wilde can’t even look at him, he’s so happy. He ducks his head, pushing it against their joined hands; feels Zolf’s warm callouses all the way into his bones. “Thanks to you.”

[There is only one person left.]

“Wilde,” Zolf breathes; a prayer, a promise. Lips press clumsily to his hair, brush his temple as they soak in each other’s presence. “You saved me, too, ya know. So- so many times. I need you, yeah? And I- it- gods, I’m horrible at this, but I just, you’re

[Zolf sees it, this time, when Wilde dies. Sees the sword pierce his chest – right in the heart, a perfect shot – and yank back out with almost careless indifference before the creature turns and does the same thing to Sumutnyerl.

Even dead, Wilde manages to look artistic. His ridiculous cape is flung out beneath him, one arm draped above his head, the barest trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He’d been this way after the crash, too, impaled almost a foot off the ground with his limbs dangling and chin flung up to the sky; the perfect semblance of a martyr being raised into heaven. Had he been unconscious then, too? Zolf thinks. Or did he feel the spike go all the way through his chest before he succumbed from the pain?

Doesn’t matter. Zolf had time to mourn when he saved Wilde then; he doesn’t have time now.

Skraak and Ada both attack, but Zolf doesn’t know if the hits land, refuses to process anything that isn’t Wilde and the mere seconds left before he’s gone for good. He throws himself forward, landing hard on his knees beside Wilde’s head, and starts to pray. The magic builds like strong drink in his throat, and he clumsily wipes the blood from Wilde’s mouth as the spell reaches its peak—and is nearly knocked over as the monster deals a crushing blow to his temple.

His vision goes briefly white, blood already dripping down his cheek and jaw, and the magic begins to fizzle away, but he refuses, he refuses. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Zolf presses a hand firmly to the desecration of Wilde’s chest, cradles his cheek with the other. He’s still warm with hope, and Zolf channels that into his prayer, pressing their foreheads together in a way that might’ve been painful, had Wilde been awake to feel it.

Please, he begs the power inside him; begs anyone who’ll listen. Please. Let this be enough to bring him back to me.

The magic bubbles inside Zolf once more, sparkling and bright and warm, and there’s no way to know, really, if it’s enough. It doesn’t matter, of course, because he doesn’t need to know. Because when he presses his mouth to Wilde’s, stroking his cheek and breathing every last ounce of that vital energy into his body, Zolf has hope.

And there, where Zolf’s fingers curl tenderly against Wilde’s neck, new and weak but steady all the same—a pulse.]

 The first thing Wilde registers is breath on his face, warmth in his throat—then pain, all over his body but especially in his chest, gods, what happened? He opens his eyes, hoping to regain his bearings; Zolf is there, face mere inches away from his own, which is a nice start.

Realizing he’s awake, Zolf pulls away, fingertips brushing against Wilde’s cheek as he goes. His other hand is pressed firmly to Wilde’s chest, and there’s blood running freely from a wound at his temple. He looks about to cry.

If Wilde didn’t feel unmoored before, he certainly does now. “Zolf- wh- what-”

In lieu of an answer, Zolf pulls Wilde to his feet. There are flashes of movement to the side, none of which Wilde is capable of processing yet; Zolf grabs his arm, which is easier. He looks resolved, in that urgent way he used to get just before leaving on solo missions; Wilde has just enough time to be scared about that before Zolf pulls him close and says, “Get the others out and be safe.”

Wilde opens his mouth in question, but Zolf’s already shoving him away. He stumbles backwards a few steps, more out of shock than actual force, before losing his balance and landing hard on his elbows just inside the lab. His neck snaps back a little, making his vision swim, but he blinks hard to clear it and now, now, he sees it all. The creature. The dead. The ones left standing.

For just a moment, Wilde catches sight of Zolf’s face before he turns away. His eyes nearly glow, lips parted around gritted teeth, and there is rage in his features like Wilde has never seen before. Then he raises his burning glaive, this idiotic man that Wilde loves so unbearably much, and growls, “Right. It’s yer turn now.”

[celsidebottom]

Maybe ‘i won’t leave you behind.’ with Azu and literally any team member? (I relistened to Rome recently and I'm very caught up in my Azu guilt emotions)

Prompt from this post

I think about how guilty Azu feels and I cry

Imagine this is set somewhere in Shoin’s base and there was an extra trap he created

Warnings for claustrophobia, cave-ins, Rome spoilers, referenced major character death

The ceiling groaned again, and Azu shuddered.

“It’s alright,” Hamid said reassuringly, reaching up to gently squeeze her hand.  Normally, she would have taken his hand in her own and held on tight, but she had her fist around her axe and would not relinquish that grip, not while they were still in the belly of this beast.

“Is it alright?” She asked and glanced up at the ceiling. “We’re on the bottom of the ocean. We’ve already nearly been drowned once. I can’t-”

“It’s going to be okay,” he insisted, but it did little to assuage Azu’s worry.

The group entered a stone passage, carved out of the ocean floor, and continued on.  Azu ignored the distant echo of dripping water, tried to push aside the fear that one drip could turn into a torrent that washed them all away and buried them beneath the seas.

“What was that?”  Azu stopped in place as the whole cave shook.

“Probably a kra-” Zolf started to answer, then noticed Hamid shaking his head, and changed course for Azu’s wellbeing.  “Probably just a small rock falling. ��Weird, big echo and all that.”  He looked to Cel for them to double down on the reassurance and insist that it was in fact not a kraken killing another gigantic whale, but they never got the chance.

Stone collapsed in an instant.  No water flowed in, but the rock fell with no further warning and threatened to create a tomb around them.  A door was visible at the far end of the wide corridor, and the whole group sprinted toward it.

But Hamid tripped.

“Just go!”  He screamed as Azu turned back.

“I won’t leave you behind,” she cried as she knelt down beside him and picked him up just before a boulder crashed down where his head had been a moment before.

Azu raced after Zolf and Cel, cradling Hamid in her arms, and the four of them threw themselves through the doorway and into a structurally sound room that showed no sign of the cave-in next door.

The speakers ticked on and Shoin began to speak.  Cel translated, saying something about how the intruders avoided another trap, well done, but they wouldn’t get much farther in his diabolical labyrinth of doom!

Azu heard the words, but barely registered them as she still held onto Hamid.

“Thank you,” he said now that they were safe from the immediate catastrophe.  “Azu, what’s wrong?”

Tears poured down her cheeks and she squeezed Hamid tight, tighter than she probably should have given her strength and his stature, but she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I won’t leave you behind,” she repeated through the tears.  “And I won’t let go.  I’m not going to lose anyone else.  I can’t.  Especially not you, not now.”

Hamid extracted his arms from Azu’s grip so that he could wrap them around her shoulders and hug her back.  There was nothing he could say; the guilt that ate at him over the loss of Sasha and Grizzop was nothing compared to that which consumed Azu, yet she still stood tall and continued to fight when it would have been so easy to give up.

“You won’t,” Hamid whispered.  “You won’t lose me.  I’m here with you, Azu, and we’ll get through this together.”

“You almost got crushed! What if you had…”

“But I didn’t. Because of you.”

She paused.  “Sasha and Grizzop are gone because of me, though, too.”

“No, they’re not.  It’s not your fault, Azu, it’s nobody’s fault. And besides, they’re not gone, not really.  They’re still here.  They’re always with us.”

Azu let out a loud sob, then squeezed Hamid tight again.  He was so small, so fragile, compared to her armored form, and she would do anything to protect him.

Zolf coughed quietly in the distance, and Hamid took the hint.  “We should probably keep going,” he suggested as Azu’s tears began to die down. “But, Azu, thank you.  We’re going to get through this together, you and me, yeah?”

Finally, Azu set him down, then wiped her face.  “You’re right.  Sorry for crying all over you.”

He shrugged and laughed. Then, he reached up for Azu’s hand, and she took it.  They turned back to Zolf and Cel, and the group continued through Shoin’s traps and schemes.  Azu and Hamid held hands as much as they could.  And this time, Azu swore she would never, ever let go.

[shy-magpie]

RQG 156

live blog under the cut

Heads up about half way through I realized I go a bit further into analysis on where Zolf & the Kobolds are mentally than some people might be comfortable with. Just as they trust us to back off if the episode gets to real, I am trusting you to close the tab if my little live blog is hitting you wrong. If it makes a difference I have years between me and the reason I relate to this stuff.

"In Memorium" they are trying to kill us Ah they lampshaded the speed intros Yes Alex it is rather Paris Right to Azu & Zolf. Oh he's jumping right in. And there's my first pause of the episode. No “better” isn't a magic finish line you pass then never find yourself in that place again. No, knowing that doesn't mean you don't wonder if your back at square one every time you realize You Are In A Bad Place and Not Handling it Well. Gosh Azu is good at this. Yeah learning to walk away is hard. Learning to ignore the part of yourself that says "and never come back for their sake" is harder. Symbolic much Alex (Zolf is too small for the room, Azu is too large) Yeah it would be easier to not blame Zolf for last episode if I related to him a bit less. Okay they are talking about Hamid and their concerns for him directly. Yeah Hamid's relationship with power & privilege is an arc; and without the Doylist level of trusting Bryn & Alex, I can see where even if you trust/like him you'd be worried about it. With the best of intentions people misuse power. Azu quoted Grizzop at Zolf. Didn't name him, wonder if Zolf is ever going ask directly about his replacement in canon or if its best left to fic. Its easy to dismiss one's own successes. Okay fair and OW, Zolf isn't up to talking about Sasha; which is the part of this I was most prepared for. Hell yeah! He is coming down but not going to be attempting to lead so as to relieve pressure on himself. Maybe if he can let Hamid step up without making a Kew Garden thing he'll see how much he's grown. Hopefully without that setting off a "Hamid does better without me" thing. Yeah intellectual knowledge and it feeling real on an emotional level are very different things. Alex, why does it matter what order they are in? ALEX? The necklace? The Heart of Aphrodite shaped necklace? Azu got a Sign from Aphrodite approving of her reaching out to Zolf as an act of love. Yes! Blue Black no take backs! Yeah those two (players) know exactly what they are doing: breaking my heart in the best ways and not skipping over the actual work those two (characters) need to put into their relationship with OOC "its all fine now"s. Ok that settles the timeline, Azu went up same night, the device isn't made yet. Yeah Zolf wouldn't, probably best to back off while things are tender while being present enough to assure he isn't planning on leaving. Seriously bless Azu, this has to be at least as hard on her as Helen but she is letting the boys have room to work it out for themselves instead of "trying to help". The last thing either of them need right now is pressure especially on this point. Aw the Kobolds teach Cel draconic. Oh smart kid, not only is it just logical for the Kobolds to work with Cel directly, it might help them get over the "looking to see if the boss approves of how you breathe" stage. Especially if he is clear about not being threatened by them having advantage over him in this area. Heck of a relief this isn't hitting my rank issues. Ooh all the Kobolds are amazing engineers, wonder if its a Kobold thing or if Skraak recruited people with similar interests. Nice rework of the "Kobolds build traps" thing from pathfinder. I genuinely love how instead of pitching the original description of Kobolds out the window, Alex has backwards engineered it. Reputation for traps isn't a dishonorable approach to fighting, its a sign of their skill. They aren't minions, their trauma is interacting with a cultural attitude about rank in weird ways. Oh Cel! Cel is amazing. Under Shoin's orders they: made Magic Steroids, did maintenance (more towards the end as Shoin wasn't taking care of things), built the place initially, sourced ingredients, other Kobolds built the Mechkraken. Damn Shoin, they can't even be proud of all they were able to do in adverse circumstances because he tainted it. If they weren't forced to do it and have it used for ill ends, building the kraken would be impressive. A lot of that sounds like difficult work. Hamid stuff: yeah it is from a place of fear; and they would be hypersensitive and need to try to "defend him" so he doesn't react. Terrified of his anger? Handle anything that even annoys him to cut it off at the pass. And being a good person who doesn't like scaring them, Hamid is going to over do the very "Mary Sunshine" routine that makes Zolf think he doesn't appreciate the gravity of the situation. You'd think Mr "do a grief later" would get that Hamid doesn't have to walk the halls wailing to be aware of the end of the world. Not that the kid can win, if he cried and threw up it would be proof he hasn't grown from season one. Hopefully by taking a back seat Zolf will have a chance to see Hamid's actions and realize being chipper & wholesome doesn't mean stupid. Oh Alex has thought this through, one of these days I'll quit being surprised he actually gets this stuff. Not being able to read the person whose emotions feel like life & death is a Bad Thing. Thank Alex for Skraak. Weird seeing this stuff from this side, of course learning to focus on my end instead of being preoccupied with what was going on in the heads of people who were on Hamid's end of it was rather the point. Perfect balance, Hamid gives them enough space to realize he isn’t going to explode, Skraak "translates" into something clear enough not to stress them out. Like when Zolf snapped at Skraak when he pledged to Hamid; might not be pretty but not knowing what The Powers That Be want? Very bad place. Rank and clear orders are very important when appeasing those who outrank you is everything. Cel has dealt with a lot of young and unsure apprentices!?! Yeah well Cel isn't in their chain of command and gears don't get offended if you have an opinion on the right way to configure them. Cel is great Azu & Hamid talking about Zolf! Helen is wonderful! I thought this was going to be drawn out and indirect, instead they are actually facing things head on and dealing with them. Aw these two are so good for each other. Azu would set aside her own emotions. Hot damn Azu, getting right to it! Hamid can be amazingly open about his self awareness and it surprises me every time. It fits him and is a very good thing, but going from answering "how are you?" with "the Kobolds are doing well" to "I never knew how to help him" without it being jarring made me do quite the double take. Guess I was expecting more deflection. Yeah well you two are redefining your boundaries, entire relationship, and rank in specific, while being the perhaps the only people with enough of the picture to figure out how to save the world. Working out the balance between conflicting views on that, when neither of you knows what the end will look like was never going to be smooth. Oh yes and none of you have directly addressed that half of Zolf's rank & dick measuring stuff is because he doesn't know if he even has a role if he isn't The Boss or The Healer.* Oh the grin in Alex's voice as he tells them there is something else before the brorb interview. Whisky tumblers for each? Quite a sigh there Ben News? Big news? While they were in the institute? They ought to sit down. Wilde get to it. Ah Azu & Hamid are holding hands. Poor kid with his prop. Letter? Ancient Rome? Sasha? Are all the fics coming true? Their founder "Askingus"!?! Oh Sasha, oh Zolf! Lydia! Oh the kids! She named the kids after the party. She even found her faith. A break? How the hell are we only half way through the episode. Also hell yeah Lydia deserves all the awards, that was an amazing letter. XD Ben! Oh Hamid, we reacted that way to the epilogue that way too. It really is okay, it was a good end. Yeah he could use a drink. Poor Zolf. Hamid gives Wilde a hug. "technically I think that makes Sasha my boss". XP be cryptic Alex, The RSB will have it figured out by Friday. Ok Zolf got to read the letter on his own. Azu lit 3 candles, because Helen wants me to cry. Hamid is at Zolf's door with a bottle and two glasses. Lydia this is a compliment to your skill. More direct than I expected from Hamid. Oh these two! Okay he is drunk enough to go there (angry at Zolf for leaving but he gets it). About time someone told Zolf directly he's grown. Aw Zolf puts him to bed. Thank you Alex! Ben! (okay fair, if any of Hamid was left he'd cuddle). Sorry Cel! Lydia wanted to break/heal our hearts more than she wanted the plot to move forward ;) Good plan: take the orb to the anti magic field, only those who have already talked to it can talk directly. Info control. Hive mind/telepathy directly addressed. Finally what Shoin eats is addressed. Ok Cel has some teeth on them. Hasn't fed it, is using the vibration to threaten to explode his brain, (no English doesn't have enough pronouns we are working on it)... Oh good point better feed it. Aw Zolf is possessive of the kitchen. Shoin is still Shoin. Cel is not happy about not being recognized. Nice to hear the boys working together. The Infection might block him from being directly aware of  being infected. Bullsh$% he backed himself up. Good point Zolf even if he does, they are separate lives, this instance can still fear death. Oh all the party have teeth, nice they don't have the "good guys have to be sweet & gentle with the baddies" thing Yeah Cel isn't stupid, the brorbs arm isn't a threat. Oh auto painting that will make the people theorizing on the bio side of how the Brorb works happy. A circulatory diagram, and am ocean of faces. Paints like a printer. A creepy charcoal sketch of London staring at the artist. *I swear on Rusty Tower if they let him hurt himself any worse because he thinks his new role is "a brick wall on wheels" I am joining the line to fight Ben in a Whetherspoons parking lot. Yes it would be in character but so would healing. There are other hills. Although seriously its been great having a character that shows so many of the aspects of depression that usually get left out. That Zolf is also a three dimensional character with a full personality beyond just "the one with mental health issues" while not making it look like those issues are tacked on or easy to handle? Stunning work.  

[nilim]

A playlist for my sad sea dad <3

Song explanations under the cut!

Uncover My Eyes - Piers Faccini

Zolf running away from home, hearing the call of the ocean.

Now I've been running still Counting down the breathes Trying not to cheat on time While pushing back the clock

I've seen the sails blowing at half mast As the storm began to raise I've heard the echo of the bells 'Round the valleys and the hills

Sing heart, sing Sing heart, sing Sing heart, sing A river flows in my veins 

Lanterns Lit - Song Lux

Zolf thinking about Feryn after joining the Navy, dealing with his grief out at sea.

Memory rushes in Then washes you away I am losing you to the sea

I'll break from the weight of my mind But your ghost I will gladly bear

And with all your grief in my arms I will labor by singing light

I'll keep my lanterns lit I'll keep my lanterns lit

If you had a single flaw You just could not last forever, could you? You just could not last for me

Blue Lips - Regina Spektor

Zolf stumbling into his faith for Poseidon while out at sea. Also, realizing that faith doesn’t solve all his problems. Mechanically Grief-filled Zolf needs more than a God to help him deal with his sadness. 

(Also :))) don’t think too hard about the Blue Veins)

He stumbled into faith and thought God this is all there is The pictures in his mind arose And began to breathe And all the gods in all the worlds Began colliding on a backdrop of blue Blue lips Blue veins He took a step but then felt tired He said, I'll rest a little while But when he tried to walk again He wasn't a child And all the people hurried past Real fast and no one ever smiled Blue lips Blue veins Blue, the color of the planet from far, far away 

Where the Boats Go - M83

Instrumental song. But something about this song always hits an emotional snare for me. It feels like it’s about endings. ‘Where the boats go’ referring to people dying, drifting off into the afterlife. I wonder what kind of state Zolf was in after his ship sank, and he clung to a piece of driftwood, half-delirious as he waited to drown, staring at the night sky above.  

Now I Want - Son Lux

Zolf talking to Poseidon, not knowing what Poseidon wants. Feeling undeserving. Feeling guilty about not wanting the things Poseidon gifts him. Also, ‘is this a lesser me’ sounds like ‘is this blasphemy’ to me, so you know. It fits.

So, I'm not sorry for this I'm not sorry for you You are the part of me I I cannot want to let go

Is this a better me, tied up to our whipping tree? Or is this a lesser me, crying out to be free? Don't believe me

Now I want to be free Now I want to be free

A Trick of The Light - Villagers

This entire song screams Zolf to me. It’s about losing faith and not knowing what to do, and it has that good ocean imagery. Zolf in the middle of his depression post-Paris.

My heart is spilling over Crashing on the ground I can't see what's around me But soon I'll come round

My faith is in the balance Of a million tiny words So I return to silence

And if I see a sign in the sky tonight No one's gonna tell me it's a trick of the light May never come but I'm willing to wait What can I say? I'm a man of the faith And there's an ocean in my body And there's a river in my soul And I'm crying 

Here Comes the River - Patrick Watson

Hello Depression my old friend. Zolf decides he has to leave.

Nobody told you it was going to be this hard Something's been building behind your eyes You lost what you hold onto You're losing control There ain't any words in this world That's gonna cure this pain Sometimes it's going to fall down on your shoulders But you're going to stand through it all

Here comes the river Coming on strong But you can't keep your head above these troubled waters

Here comes the river Over the flames Sometimes you got to burn to keep the storm away 

Song to the Siren - Amen Dunes

To me this song can be about multiple things. It could be about Zolf’s tempestuous relationship with Poseidon and eventual falling out. But it could also be about Zolf’s hunt for his ‘white whale’ during those 18 months; trying to find the mech-kraken, but never quite solving the mystery. But mostly a siren’s call of the ocean, full of things trying to kill him.

Did I dream you dreamed about me? Were you here when I was full sail? Now my foolish boat is leaning Broken lovelorn on your rocks For you sang, "Touch me not Touch me not, come back tomorrow" Ohh my heart, ohh my heart Shies from the sorrow 

Particles - Ólafur Arnalds

Another water-imagery based depression song! In the depths of his grief during those 18 months, Zolf finally breaks down and has his big fight with Poseidon. His God is holding him down, and he needs to say goodbye in order to grow. He finds hope on the other side of it.

Here I am Floating in emerald sea Keep me dancing Keep me as still as can be And I try to keep the balance right And I try but it feels like wasted time

But these heavy hands They're pulling me down on my chest Latching on, coloring all of my flesh Quietly, you hover over me And I fight but it feels like wasted time

Say goodnight I know that I'm swallowed in sea We collide, colors that devour me Just say goodnight I'm already down I cry Already down

It’s Been A Year - Tom Rosenthal

Zolf thinking about Sasha and Hamid. Missing them and reflecting on the time they spent together. Will he see them again?

(Also... nice double meaning of ‘Oscar’ :) Don’t think too hard about it, because that only provides additional angst).

So tell me your hopes and then I'll tell you mine You gave me my gods then you gave me the sky I covered my eyes and said "See ya some other time"

I would give you an Oscar for the movie you made with me The one no one is going to see It's been a year Oh, what a year 

Wiped Out - Mooryc

Not going to lie, I just like this song. Zolf reflecting on the return of Hamid and Azu and the past 18 months. Fuzzing over them when they get out quarantine (‘open close, door to door’), and reflecting on who he became after he left that day in Prague.

It was the longest eighteen months Sanity was so close only for this season One hopes another won't If only it was happening for something good I hope you know Open close Door to door Vanity in poor clothes Hidden for a reason Wiped out in one night My life has been a total mystery for me since then 

Waves Know Shores - The Vernon Spring

Mostly instrumental. Zolf falling into a new rhythm with Hamid and the rest of the party. Learning to trust each other again. Choosing to care for one another even though that love has hurt all of them so many times in the past.

I said; ‘Just you love like love’s no loss.’

Birdsong - They Dream By Day

Instrumental. It’s a new day for all of them.

[hgb94]

As penance for the Azu crimes, have some Hamid Playlist Quote Crimes Fluff I’ll Stand By You by The Pretenders

Oh, why you look so sad? Tears are in your eyes Come on and come to me now Hamid gives Sasha a hug: At least you got to say goodbye. And…I’m sorry. ... Hamid: It’s gonna be okay Azu! … Hamid: Zolf, I’m here. What’s wrong? Don't be ashamed to cry Let me see you through 'cause I've seen the dark side too Hamid: I’ll come on the boat with you, Zolf ... Hamid: Sasha, you are my friend. When the night falls on you You don't know what to do Nothing you confess Could make me love you less Sasha: I don’t know…I mean. Are liches good at anything? Grizzop: Yeah, they’re great at stuff. Being evil, unfortunately, seems to be kind of high on that list. Hamid: Just because there’s never been a non-evil lich doesn’t mean there couldn’t be one. I'll stand by you I'll stand by you Won't let nobody hurt you I'll stand by you Barrett: And give my best to Sasha. Hamid: No, I absolutely will not! Bye! So if you're mad, get mad Don't hold it all inside Come on and talk to me now Zolf: I’m not in the mood for this. Not everything can be fixed by a heart to heart, you know. Just go chat to Sasha or Bertie or something, just leave me alone. Hamid: You need to hear this Zolf. I know you don’t want to, but you need to. Hey, what you got to hide? I get angry too Well I'm a lot like you Hamid: I made mistakes....I’m trying to make up for them. And we’ve made mistakes since we’ve started working together…But that doesn’t mean we should stop trying. We’re just people, we’re all people and we’re not perfect!...What matters is that we don’t give up....That we make up for the mistakes. We don’t let the mistakes become all we are. We don’t let the mistake be the final thing, the final word on us, we don’t let the mistake be the only thing we ever contributed to this world....If we go out there, if we keep helping, then that’s…that’s what matters. When you're standing at the crossroads And don't know which path to choose Let me come along 'cause even if you're wrong Hamid: I think you’ve been given those legs by Poseidon because he wants you to have the choice about what to do next. He’s not deciding for you, but now you can choose whatever you think is right. Zolf quietly: I just don’t feel like I deserve them. I don’t know why I have them. I don’t know why he’s given them to me. I just don’t know. Hamid: Maybe it doesn’t mean anything to you, but…I think you deserve them Zolf. And I think anyone except yourself would say the same if they knew everything you’ve done. ... Hamid: Zolf, I’m not a religious person, I’ve never had the faith that you had. I…I’ve never believed in a god....There’s one thing I do believe in, Zolf, and that’s you. I'll stand by you I'll stand by you Won't let nobody hurt you Hamid: I have to say, sir, that nothing that we have accomplished would have happened without Sasha. She’s done more than any other person in terms of the accomplishments we’ve made over the last few months. Times when I’ve fallen or started to give up, she’s the one who’s been able to carry on and none of it would have happened without her. I'll stand by you Take me in, into your darkest hour And I'll never desert you I'll stand by you Sasha: And if they end up capturing me, like, cause if I’m going in alone that is a possibility, get the hostages out first. Hamid: We’ll get all of you out, Sasha. We’re not leaving you behind. And when... When the night falls on you, baby You're feeling all alone You won't be on your own Hamid: Whatever happens, let’s stick together. Azu: We’re all that we’ve got at the moment. I'll stand by you I'll stand by you Won't let nobody hurt you Hamid: Oh, it’s so good to see you Grizzop! I’m so glad you’re okay! Bryn: I go to hug Grizzop. Ben: I’ll hug you back! I'll stand by you Take me in, into your darkest hour And I'll never desert you I'll stand by you Hamid: But, I just--- I hope we get to stick together, Azu. Your friendship means a lot to me, and we've gone through so much and I want to just... Let's stay a team, you and me. I'll stand by you Won't let nobody hurt you I'll stand by you Won't let nobody hurt you I'll stand by you

[redactedquill]

Your writing is so good! “Cradling someone in their arms” and the arms are Azu’s? I’m tempted to say Sasha or Grizzop, but I’m also not sure I’m ready for the feels that would give me rip. So Hamid or her brother would also be great!

Aw thank you so much! I’m so sorry this took me like… three months to finish.

[AO3 Link]

It was nothing more than a glancing blow, certainly shouldn’t have been enough to knock her off her feet the way it did, to fling her backward so sharply that her head cracked sickeningly against the concrete wall. But it had, against all logic, and within moments Sasha’s crumpled form lay in a heap at the base of the wall, completely still, watching the steady drip, drip, drip of dark red falling from the gash on her head to pool on the already wet ground below her. Everything hurt, her head was swimming, darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision, and she could feel the bright starbursts of pain radiating from the back of her head, from the deep cut in her side. 

But even through all of that, she could still hear her; the usual brightness of her laugh, twisted into something unfamiliar and wrong as her clanging footsteps brought her closer and closer to where Sasha lay. She didn’t dare move, both because she knew it would be no use (given how quickly her vision spun even when she was still), and in the vain hope that she might look dead.

That Azu would think she was dead, or even that she would think she was close enough to it and leave her to bleed out.

And wouldn’t it be ironic, she couldn’t help but think, for her to survive all that she had - for her to finally escape Barrett, to somehow, despite the odds, make it back from Rome completely unscathed - only to be taken down like this, at the hands of someone she’d thought of as a friend.

(At the hands of someone who was still a friend, no matter what happened in that moment, because it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her; it was the blue veins that had somehow worked their way under her skin, the infection that none of them had noticed until it was far too late.)

(It wasn’t her.)

She could only hope that she’d bought everyone else enough time.

She heard more than saw what happened next. The clanging of Zolf’s legs as he ran, and Azu’s grunt as he threw himself into her. The loud clattering of the two of them crashing to the ground, Hamid’s muttering as he cast Hold Person again, and again, and again until it finally took. The vicious words that sounded so foreign as they were hissed between Azu’s teeth.

Grizzop was crouching over her, laying on hands in that brusque way of his, but the spell fizzled out, ineffective, as Azu shouted suddenly. He was distracted, of course he was, they all were; they all knew that what they were trying to do was risky at best (and at worst, deadly, though none of them had ever dared say it aloud). But it was a chance, their only chance, a chance they had to take for Azu’s sake. They all owed her that much.

Sasha tried to move, shift her head so she could at least see what was going on, but Grizzop wouldn’t release her long enough for her to do so, muttering under his breath about a possible spinal cord injury as he laid on hands again (and again, the spell was less effective than it should have been as Hamid whimpered, the effort of keeping Azu in place obviously straining him).

Then she heard Cel, or rather, heard the sound of glass vials clinking together as they moved toward Azu, speaking so quickly Sasha couldn’t parse what they said through the haze in her head. But their tone, despite the rate of their speech, was as soothing as Sasha had ever heard it (not that the thing that was controlling Azu seemed soothed, as she continued to shout at them).

There was the sound of Cel fishing something out of their coat, of Azu struggling against the hands still pinning her down. Then, suddenly, Azu stopped, and everything was silent. Or not silent, she supposed, as Grizzop’s hands stilled, hovering just over her skin. No, the rain still pounded down around them, the sky still rumbled with thunder, she could still hear her own laboured breathing. But it all seemed dulled, muted, muffled under the absolute absence of sound from Azu. 

(Sasha had always liked silence, had found it soothing. She’d never understood the need some people had to fill it, or what they could possibly mean when they called it oppressive or uncomfortable. But just then, under the weight of that horrible silence, she thought she might be beginning to.)

She finally managed to move just enough to see what was happening, gritting her teeth against the pain her shifting caused. Next to her, Grizzop’s gaze was locked on Azu (Azu, laying on the ground, surrounded by the rest of the party, so completely, unnervingly still). Zolf stood above her now, his beard partially unbraided, likely from Azu trying to struggle away as he pinned her down. Hamid was next to him, leaning on his arm as he panted, still winded from the effort of holding Azu in place. And crouched near Azu’s head was Cel, the now-empty syringe still clutched in their hand, as still as Sasha had ever seen them as they stared down, unblinking, at Azu’s form.

Sasha tried to sit up further, hoping to be able to see Azu’s face, to see if the blue veins had changed at all, if they were starting to disappear. The moment she did, however, her vision spun wildly, and the blackness at the edges crept in further. She collapsed back to the ground, her head colliding with the wall behind her as she fell. 

The last thing she heard before the darkness finally swallowed her was the sound of Azu’s gasp, and Cel’s triumphant cry.

—

After what both felt like a moment and an age, Sasha was jostled awake. It was instantly clear she wasn’t still outside where she’d lost consciousness. For one, whatever she was lying on was much softer than the ground outside had been, and her head was resting on what she could only assume was probably a pillow. A bed, then, or a mattress. 

Then, the probably-pillow moved.

Sasha’s eyes snapped open as she jolted upright. Or, at least, as she tried to. The movement sent pain lancing through her torso, set her head spinning, and she had to bite her tongue to suppress a groan as she half-collapsed once more. But she didn’t stay there for long, instead rolling over to her uninjured side to try to push herself up that way. She couldn’t stay down, couldn’t stay there with whoever, whatever had taken her unconsciousness as an opportunity to strike. 

Before she could struggle to her feet, something grabbed her arm. Not pulling her back, not even restraining. Just… holding.

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright,” came Azu’s voice, as soothing as always, so different from how it had been when she’d been taken, all the sharpness the infection had caused softened once more. Not that she believed it, not in the least; the thing that had taken Azu had pretended to be her for weeks before they’d noticed.

(Weeks of gentle smiles, gentle words, even gentler hugs. She would not fall for it again.)

She pulled her arm free of Azu’s grip, pushing herself up to her hands and knees despite the pain, scrambling to put as much distance between them as possible. Another jolt of pain, sharp, like something tearing, knocked the breath out of her. It felt like something in her had torn, and she stumbled forward, colliding with the wall in front of her. Or, not a wall. It certainly didn’t feel like a wall, felt more like… bars.

She was in a cell.

Trapped. In a cell. With the thing that had taken over Azu’s body.

She gripped the bars, resisting the urge to try to shake them loose. She already knew it wouldn’t work, the familiar texture of adamantine told her that much. Behind her, she heard Azu get to her feet, the sound of her armour against the stone floor almost deafening in the small room.

“Sasha-”

“Don’t!” Sasha snapped. “Don’t you dare. Don’t try to- to trick me.” She turned, pressing her back to the bars to keep herself upright, and stared up at her (not that she could see very much in the dim, flickering light cast by the torch on the wall outside the cell).

Azu froze in her tracks, hands out in front of her, palms open. “I’m not trying to trick you, I promise. It’s me, the cure worked.” She paused, brows furrowed. “Or we think it worked. That’s why we’re in here. We’re waiting out the seven days, just to be sure.”

“Then why am I here, too?” Sasha reached for one of her daggers, only to come up empty (she didn’t believe her, or at the very least didn’t want to believe her, no matter how sincere she seemed).

“You were alone with me, with it, before the cure,” Azu responded. “Wilde and the others are fairly sure you aren’t infected, but they couldn’t take any chances.” 

Sasha opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her fingers brushed against something warm and wet on her side as she withdrew them from her jacket (from the empty sheaths). Lifting her hand, she could see dark red staining her fingertips.

Azu must have seen it too, as she gasped, seemingly forgetting Sasha’s distrust as she rushed to her side. Sasha couldn’t even find it in herself to be angry about it as her whole world tilted, her body listing sideways, only saved from bashing her head against bars or the floor (for what would have been the third time in recent days) by Azu catching her.

Sasha didn’t fight it. What did it matter? Either she was infected, or she wasn’t. Either Azu was infected, or she wasn’t. Nothing she did would change that, so what did it matter if she let Azu lower her gently to the floor, pull her into her lap to cradle her in her arms? So what if she let Azu’s calming words lull her into a sense of security, of safety, of home? So she let herself drift, ignoring the wetness slowly soaking her shirt, ignoring the pressure of Azu’s hand as she pressed on the wound, ignoring her muttered prayers to Aphrodite that they both knew would do nothing, in this anti-magic cell.

She let herself drift.

—

The bleeding must have stopped while she’d been asleep, because when she woke next- 

Well, because she woke up at all.

The room was bright, when she opened her eyes, the light from the single torch having been bolstered by three or four more. Zolf sat on a bench by the wall, reading, Hamid asleep on his shoulder. 

Azu was asleep as well, sitting against the bars, head tilted back and light snores escaping her with every breath. Her face and neck lacked the blue veins that had stood out so starkly while she’d been infected.

So, despite it all, despite everything that had happened to her, before and after leaving Other London, and every reason Sasha had ever known not to trust a happy ending, she trusted this one.

Everything was going to be okay.

[asleeg]

no man is rich enough to buy back his past (1/2)

[read on ao3]

[a b-day fic for @roswyrm ]

It wasn't until he saw Zolf again, the sobs already rising up in the back of his throat, that Hamid understood how much he had missed his best friend.

Because that was what Zolf was, at the end of all things. Bertie never had been, had proven that over and over again, and Sasha was brilliant and loyal, but Zolf had been… special. Zolf had been the one he cared about so intensely it inspired him to scream and cry and do all the things his family had tried to train out of him. It was Zolf that had held him the darkness, Zolf who had saved him from himself, Zolf who had inspired him to lead. Zolf was his best friend.

And Hamid was a mass of tears shaped something like a halfling.

Grizzop and Azu both looked worried-- Well, Azu looked worried. Grizzop looked like he thought Hamid had finally lost it. Hamid couldn't blame them. He didn't know what Sasha had told them, but he could never bring himself to talk about Zolf with them. It felt wrong, somehow. The early days, when they were still working on the name, was something so precious to him, and words couldn't explain it. Especially not to the people who had replaced Zolf and Bertie, thereby changing the entire dynamic.

Sasha, though, knew Hamid at his absolute worst, and the tears didn't phase her at all. After she greeted Zolf (Lowkey as always, like Zolf was catching up with them after lagging behind to catch up on some paperwork. Why did that thought rip a sob out of Hamid's throat?), she faded to the back of their group, looking between Zolf and Hamid with a wide, expectant grin. She had planned this surprise, Hamid realised, but was too distracted to be offended.

Zolf had always been the one to carry the full brunt of Hamid's emotional outlash, but he'd never smiled like that about it. His smile was soft, almost fond, and Hamid could feel his organs quaking at the way the emotion echoed in Zolf's clear, blue eyes.

"Well," Zolf said, and, oh god. Hamid had forgotten how deep and lovely Zolf's voice was, oh god, he was sobbing even harder now. He was so happy. "I guess some things never change."

"Shut up," Hamid said. And then, quickly, "No, wait, I didn't.... Don't leave."

Zolf's brow furrowed, but his smile didn't fade-- Just turned a bit sad at the edges, the happiness wilting. Hamid felt the loneliness in his chest start building again. "I'm not going anywhere, Hamid."

If anything, Hamid cried harder.

"Sorry," Grizzop said, in his usual 'I'm not trying to be incredibly rude, but I unfortunately will be' voice. "Who are you?"

"It's Zolf," Hamid sobbed. "It's.... Zolf."

Azu looked confused. "What is a Zolf?"

"I'm a Zolf. Zolf Smith, in fact. Founder of..." Zolf paused. "Sorry, what was it you were calling it now? Right, sorry. LOLOMG."

"Ah, right," Grizzop said. "The cleric they left in Prague."

Hamid wailed.

"Does Hamid not like Zolf?" Azu 'whispered' to Sasha, and Hamid is so used to her particular brand of obtuse that it almost doesn't register. It's not until he sees the worry flit into Zolf's eyes that he sucks in a breath so sharp that it burns all the way down to his toes. Hamid can't let Zolf think that he doesn't want this, can't let Zolf think that he belongs anywhere other than here.

Sasha beats him to it, though, with a snort. "Hamid likes Zolf plenty. He's just a prat about it, sometimes."

The tears almost stop when Hamid draws himself up into full height, prepared to be affronted, but Zolf ruins all composure by coming to his rescue. "Stop it, Sasha. You know how Hamid can get when he's hungry; A couple dire lobsters and he'll be right as rain."

"I'm right here," Hamid wibbles, but it doesn't come out as the protest he intends it. It's more a statement: I'm right here, Zolf. I'm right here, pay attention to me. Then again, he's not sure if he wants Zolf to notice the teary, snotty mess he must be at the moment.

"Wow," Grizzop says. "I can't believe you used to be weirder than you are now."

"Grizzop," Azu scolds, but before she can continue (and embarrass Hamid further by discussing every schmoopy, ridiculous emotion written across his face), Hamid interrupts.

"No, you're all right," Hamid said. He took a deep breath, tries not to notice that the fondness is creeping back into the edges of Zolf's smile. "We should all get dinner. Zolf, you've... It would mean a lot to us, if you would meet the new team."

"I'd love to."

The easy agreement almost threw Hamid off, and certainly made him suspicious. Nothing with Zolf had ever been easy, from beginning to end. His sudden agreeableness was something Hamid hadn't expected or even wanted. Or, maybe, Zolf's growth didn't dissolve in the face of an old friend like Hamid's tended to.

"Perfect," Hamid said. He, and the rest of the group, were pretending that fresh tears weren't gathering in the corner of his eyes. "I'll go freshen up, and meet you all in the dining room. Yes?"

The team agrees easily enough, even if Sasha hesitates, but Zolf lingers for a moment. The doubt is clear in his eyes. After all, Hamid has never needed time or a bathroom to get himself stage ready.

"I just... need a moment," Hamid said, and Zolf nodded.

"'Course," he said, "it's a lot. You've been through a lot."

"Well," Hamid joked, "You seem to be handling it fine."

Zolf laughed, a low, rusty sound. It was different, now, like a record covered in dust. When was the last time Hamid had heard Zolf laugh? Before Prague, obviously, but... Before Paris? Before Dover? He couldn't remember.

"Do I? I don't feel fine."

Hamid winced. "Zolf," he said, softly. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

The look that crosses Zolf's face must be a look that all religious figures learn, at one point in their lives. It's a mix of "oh, look at this stupid beast, how I pity it," mixed with, "look at this abhorrent creature, how it disgusts me." Hamid had seen it in the eyes of many a priestess in his childhood, and Grizzop and Azu had both conquered halves of it. Zolf was the only one who had managed, so far, to also make it seem fond, as if Hamid's slight was somehow endearing. It always unsettled him, threw him off whatever self-destructive spiral he'd been ready to fling himself into.

Honestly, Hamid wishes he'd known Zolf at University.

"Of course I'm staying," Zolf says. He starts off after Sasha and the rest, and Hamid still isn't used to the fluidity of Zolf motions now that he's got two (magic) legs again. It's unfair, how much the new stability in his shoulders shows off how broad and strong they are. The last thing Hamid needs is even more reasons to miss him when he's gone. "I need to make sure the new recruits are taking care of you better than the last two idiots, don't I?"

And then he just... leaves, like that sentence couldn't be broken down into a thousand meanings, a million messages that Hamid could spend the next six hours dissecting. It's enough to paralyze Hamid, leaving him stuck stock-still in the hotel lobby until a well-meaning conceirge comes and pokes him along. Hamid trudges to the bathroom, replaying the conversation over to himself. It feels more like a daydream than a memory, like one of those silly fantasies he used to have, all prince charming and being swept off his feet. Although, it's less about the adventures than it used to be.

Once upon a time, Hamid wanted princes and princesses. He wanted grand adventures and crowns, to achieve great deeds that could be shown as brazenly as the medals on his chest. Reality worked that out of him quickly enough. After everything in London, Hamid had learned that no one was coming to save him. Paris taught him that grand adventures and great deeds were sometimes things you didn't want to show. Sometimes they were things you wanted to forget about long enough to sleep. But it was okay: Hamid had picked up new dreams. Dreams of him and Zolf, of Sasha and Bertie, all four of them a happy little family in the face of certain death. It had been a dream born from an almost.

Prague took that dream from him, too.

Hamid relished in the sting of cold water against his face, dripping down his neck. It made the world feel a little more real, a little less like the memory of those old daydreams. Seeing Zolf had led him back to that intense longing for a home-- But, no, that had been the fourth lesson, the one that Cairo taught him. Hamid didn't know how to be the new him around someone who still had his hands around the tenderest parts of Hamid's heart.

When he opened his eyes, they were molten and draconic, the tips of teeth peeking out over his lips.

They would have to figure it out together.

[kellanswritingblog]

Some zoscar hurt/comfort set after the end of episode 173.  I figured I should post it now before we hit the next episode and it’s just all hurt lol

tw for blood, injury, broken bones, and mentions of death

The landing was a disaster. The ship itself wasn’t too badly damaged, besides the engine loss it experienced while in the Borealis.

The real harm was in the suffering of the crew.  Zolf and Cel were strapped in and managed to hold on when they crashed into the ground, and Hamid was flying a safe distance away.  But Azu, Wilde, Earhart, and all the others were either sent tumbling around the ship or thrown off of it entirely.

There wasn’t much any of them could do for some of them, no matter how hard they tried.  Between the height of the fall and impact with the trees and frozen ground… no amount of healing would bring them back from that.

Those who survived were tended to by Zolf and Azu, distributing magical bouts of healing to keep them alive and in as little pain as possible.  Azu had been smacked into the side of the ship during impact, but her guideline stayed intact, and she was in much better shape than some of the others.  Meanwhile, Cel and Earhart looked over the ship, and Hamid huddled up with the less-injured kobolds, who all held each other tight.

Zolf counted the survivors and the bodies.

“Where’s Wilde?”

“I thought…” Azu looked around and counted for herself.  “I don’t know.  I didn’t see which way he went.”

Zolf gestured to the injured Meerk lying before them.  “Do you got this?  I’m going to go look for him.”

“Yeah.  Don’t go too far, though.”  Her brow was furrowed with concern.

He nodded, then trudged away from the ship.  As he walked, he called out Wilde’s name – it wasn’t as if they had to worry about accidentally drawing unwanted attention, since the neon crashing ship took care of that already.

“Wilde!  Oscar?  Come on, where are you?”

The snow came up practically to Zolf’s waist, and he sunk even deeper in spots, but that didn’t slow him down when he finally saw Wilde’s body and the seeping red that surrounded it.

Zolf sprinted to him and knelt down at his side.

“Oscar?  Oscar, hang on.”  There was still a pulse, but only barely.  He had lost a lot of blood, and what looked like bone poked out from his arm.

Healing flowed through Zolf and into Wilde, but he didn’t wake.  Instead, he gave a shuddering breath, and remained still.

“Come on, Oscar.  Come on, please.  You stubborn ass, why weren’t you wearing your guideline?” Zolf cried as he pressed all of his healing into Wilde’s unmoving form.  “Why weren’t you paying attention?  Why did you have to get hurt?”

The tears that fell down Zolf’s face were half frozen.  When magic failed, Zolf put bandages and tourniquets on Wilde’s wounds, then began to set the obviously broken bone with his mundane healing knowledge, for what little good that would do.

Once that was done, Zolf continued to kneel at Wilde’s side for a moment longer to beg any benevolent power to bring him back, to make it right.  What good was hope if Wilde was gone?

Then, Zolf stood and tromped quickly back to the ship.

“Did you find him?” Azu asked.

“I did.  He’s alive… but barely.  I need help getting him back here.  I tried to heal him, but…”

Azu reached out, put a hand on Zolf’s shoulder, and gave it a squeeze.  “I still have some healing left in me.  Let’s see what we can do.”

Despite the optimism in her voice and gaze, it did little to soothe the terror raging inside of Zolf’s heart.

Zolf led Siggif and Barnes to where Wilde’s body lay, and they placed him on an impromptu stretcher to carry him back to the ship, then placed him before Azu.

“Oh.”  She spoke quietly, her voice barely more than an uttered breath. But Zolf heard it, and whatever hope remained in him that Wilde would recover started to fade.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s not good.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Pink light flowed from Azu’s hands into Wilde’s form, then she slumped.  “I need to save some healing for the others.  But he’s still breathing, and you managed to stop most of the bleeding.  He’s got a chance.”

Zolf nodded, though he felt despair take over.  Azu put a hand on Zolf’s shoulder again, then left him at Wilde’s side to tend to the other wounded.

“You…”  Zolf couldn’t even muster up the enjoyable annoyance he so often felt when dealing with Oscar.  Instead, he began to cry again.  “Please wake up.  Please be okay.  I mean, I know nothing is really okay right now, but… Wilde, I need you.  I don’t know how to keep going without you. Please.”

Wilde didn’t respond, of course.  Zolf picked up Wilde’s hand on his uninjured arm, lifted it to his lips, and pressed a slow kiss to the mitten that covered his skin.  He didn’t know what else to do, how else to help, so he continued to stand and hold Wilde’s hand, as if that alone would bring him back.

It didn’t, though, and soon enough the cold was getting to everyone.  Those who wound up relatively uninjured were tasked with moving the others inside, where they were at least sheltered from the elements and the flurry that fell around them.  They also brought the bodies on board, with every intention of returning them home whenever they got back to safe civilization.

Zolf and Azu stayed up throughout the night to tend to the injured.  Their own bodies were wracked with pain and exhaustion, but they had to keep going, and they were the best equipped to provide aid, even if they couldn’t muster anymore magic at the time.  Regardless, sometimes a balm or a fresh bandage or even a cup of water made all the difference.

He didn’t plan to fall asleep.  Zolf had sat at Wilde’s side during a quiet moment, half willing him to wake up and be alright.  He could have slept all day, if given the chance; between sailing through the Borealis and landing the Vengeance as successfully as possible, he was beat.  But there was still work to be done, and he didn’t plan to rest so soon.

However, the quiet croak of a familiar voice startled him awake, even from his darkest nightmares.

“Zolf?”

He practically fell out of his chair when he heard the noise and awoke with a start, then he righted himself and stood.

“Oscar?  Oscar, it’s me.  I’m here.  You’re alright, you’re going to be alright.”

Wilde was white as a sheet and his eyes blinked rapidly with confusion, but he was awake, and he was alive.

“What happened?”

“The ship… crashed. And just about everybody got tossed over the side when we hit the trees.  Why weren’t you wearing your bloody guideline, you insufferable…”  Zolf’s relief poured out in more tears.  “I’m just glad you’re…”

“Remind me to never let you drive an automobile if that’s how you park,” Wilde joked in a raspy voice, and Zolf let out a choked laugh.

“I should go get Azu. Together we’ll get you back up and running in no time.” His breath shuddering, Zolf wiped his tears.

Before he could move, however, Wilde’s good hand shot out and weakly held onto Zolf’s wrist. “First, I… Zolf… Thank you.”

“For what?  I’m the one that crashed the damn ship.”

Wilde shook his head. “For putting up with me.  For standing with me in all this chaos.  I’ve never said how grateful I am to not be fighting this war alone, and if I’d… if I’d died, you would never know.  So.  Here I am.”

“I still would’ve known,” Zolf murmured.  “And it’s not putting up with you.  You’re stubborn and infuriating, sure, but… I can’t imagine being anywhere else than at your side.”

“Kiss me.”

“I’m sorry?”  Zolf chuckled and hid his blushing face behind a hand.  “I think the blood loss has got you a little loopy.”

“I’m tired of walking around it.  We almost died, Zolf.  I don’t want to pretend that I don’t love you anymore.”

For a moment, Zolf lost himself in the sincerity of Oscar’s gaze, then he stepped forward and slowly kissed him.

“We’ve got fine timing, haven’t we?”  Zolf teased as he pulled away.

“If you hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe we would’ve gotten here before a near death experience in the unknown regions of Siberia.”

Zolf was relieved beyond measure that Wilde still had the health for snark.

“Yeah, because you definitely weren’t the one going all ‘oh, relationships are a danger right now, blah blah blah.’”

“They are a danger. But the greater danger is losing you.”

“You’re the one that almost died.  I think it’s more about losing you right now.”

Wilde smiled. “Fair.  Maybe just try not to lose any more engines, alright?”

“I’ll do my best. Now, I really am going to go get Azu. You’re in bad shape; it’ll take both of us to get you feeling better.”

He chuckled again, and replied, “Waking up to you?  Kissing you? I already feel lifetimes better.”

“That’s all well and good, but your arm is still broken, and you’ve definitely got a concussion and a bunch of internal trauma.  So, sit tight, and I’ll be right back.”

Before he left, Zolf pressed a quick kiss to Wilde’s forehead, and then darted off to find Azu, wherever she might be.  Surely the others were working on some sort of plan, but Zolf had only one goal: to ensure Wilde survived and was restored to health.  He didn’t plan on losing him now that they’d finally realized their feelings couldn’t be put off any longer.

[kellanswritingblog]

Y’all asked for the second chapter of my Sinking Coffin fic, so here we are!

Out of Breath - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 (ao3) (tumblr)

“Hamid?  Hamid, we got it.”

But Hamid didn’t hear Cel calling for him, didn’t hear that they and Azu had pried apart the floor, so focused he was on spending Zolf’s last moments with him.

“Alright, I have a plan,” Cel said, turning back to Azu.  “You swim down there with a rope and push it up.  I’ll help pull.  I’ve got a waterbreathing potion here somewhere…”

“I can’t do that.”

“I’m not strong enough, you need to be the one to push it.”

“I can’t go down there,” Azu insisted, her eyes glassy and wide.  “I can’t, I… There’s too much, it’s too close, it’s…”

Cel reached out a hand and put it on Azu’s shoulder before she could continue.  “It’s okay.  No worries.  I will swim down there, tie a rope around the coffin, and you can pull.   I’ll turn into a dolphin and push from beneath as best I can.  Sound good?”

With a heavy exhale, Azu nodded.  “Let’s do it.”

“Skraak?”

There was no way to communicate with the kobold, not while Hamid was incapacitated and unable to translate.  Azu held out a hand as if to tell them to sit tight and wait, and they began to pace in place, but it was enough.

Cel stripped off their jacket and put a new set of goggles over their eyes before dropping through the opening in the hole and descending into the depths.  They needn’t have worried about putting on goggles; as deep below the surface as they were, there was hardly any light anyway.

But there was enough to see a dark chasm beneath the tunnel in which they’d been walking and a slight glimmer from within it.  Cel swam toward that shimmer as fast as they could, maintaining their half-elf form for the time being.

Once they caught up to it, they clung to its side as it continued to descend at a rapid pace so that they could unsling the rope from around their shoulder and wrap it around the metal box as quickly and securely as they could manage.  With a hefty knot, Cel allowed themselves to turn into a dolphin and got underneath the box, pushing it up with their nose and hoping that would be enough signal for Azu to start pulling.  They hadn’t discussed that much.  There wasn’t time.

Soon enough, the weight was slackened on Cel’s end and the coffin propelled upwards, out of the chasm and toward the light of the tunnel.  Once it hit the floor, there was little Cel could do without hands to guide the box back through the narrow hatch, but Azu, without her gauntlets, reached into the water and heaved the whole thing through the space with Cel still pushing as best as their dolphin form could.

Cel transformed back to their usual self and caught their breath once they hauled themselves back to safety, then turned hastily toward the coffin.  If it had filled with water, they didn’t have long.  And by the way Hamid was sobbing in the corner, they would be lucky if they had any time at all.

Still breathing heavily, Azu and Cel stood to examine the mechanism.  The face of the coffin was almost entirely smooth, with nowhere to wedge in a prybar or a jack.  There was but one visible opening, at the top, where Zolf had been dropped inside of it, and a small, unobtrusive latch was visible, but stuck fast.

“I have some acid,” Cel said, rummaging through their coat for a vial.

“What… how did you…?”  Hamid appeared at their side in an instant, his face red and tear stained, but his jaw set as he saw the coffin and Cel’s sopping form.  “Never mind.  I have acid.  Stand back.”

He threw acid splash after acid splash at the latch until it slowly began to wither away, at which point Azu began to chop at it with one of her axes until the metal chipped off and they could wrench the lid open.

Water poured out of the coffin and they dragged Zolf’s motionless form from the box.  Pink light covered his body as Azu laid a hand atop him and muttered a prayer to Aphrodite, her eyes shut tight in despair and desperation.

Still, he didn’t move.

When faith failed, Azu relied on her mundane medical knowledge and began to administer chest compressions and rescue breaths.  Cel watched anxiously, while Hamid paced and began to cry again.  At least this way they could lay Zolf’s body to rest, he wouldn’t just be lost to the void.  Hamid didn’t even know what Zolf wanted done with his body, if he wanted a burial or a pyre or to be returned to the stone.  He’d never wanted to think about it.  He’d never had to think about it.

Hamid was shaken from his thoughts by a fit of coughing.  He spun around and Zolf was there, coughing up water, but moving and breathing against all odds.  He was alive.

Without thinking, Hamid lunged toward him and tackled him back to the floor in an embrace.

“Hamid, Hamid, I can’t breathe…” Zolf muttered, laughing, and Hamid released his grip only slightly.  “Better.”  Despite his complaints, he hugged Hamid back, holding him tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Hamid whimpered, his tears matching pace with Zolf’s.

“Why?  You saved me?”

“I didn’t.  They did.”  He gestured to Cel and Azu, who had slumped backwards in relief and watched the reunion with smiles on their faces. “I was too distraught.”

“Well… thank you,” Zolf said to them, a sincere smile on his face.  “I’m… thank you.  Maybe I’ll have more eloquent words later, when I’m not still on the edge of death or smothered by a halfling, but… yeah.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Azu replied, and Cel nodded.

“Hey, I got to be a dolphin again.  No worries here,” Cel teased.  “But seriously, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.”  Azu added.  Even Skraak let out a celebratory squeak.

Hamid had still not relinquished his grip on Zolf, and they continued to lay there for quite a while in an embrace while Zolf caught his breath and regained his bearings after being so close to death.

“This doesn’t change anything that I said,” Zolf murmured, still contentedly allowing Hamid to hold him.  “You’re still my best friend, and I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, and… I really was glad that if I was going to die, I’d die hearing your voice.  That I wouldn’t be alone.”

“You’re never alone, Zolf,” Hamid said.  “But I understand.  I’m just… I’m just grateful you’re still here.  No more self-sacrificing, you hear me?”

Zolf chuckled at Hamid’s stern tone and expression.  “Bold of you to say.  But I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

“We should probably talk some more under less dire circumstances.  I got the most important bits out, but there’s… still a lot to say.”

Hamid nodded.  “But for now, once you’re ready, we should probably get back to it.”

“Nothing like a near-death experience to get your heart pumping, eh?”

“Don’t you dare joke about this,” Hamid insisted while grinning.  “This was horrible.  I’m not losing you, Zolf, I’m not.”  He pulled Zolf into another tight embrace, winding his fingers through his hair and burying his face in his shoulder as he let out another sob.

“What was that you said earlier?  You’re never alone?”

“Yeah, but we really don’t need to put that to any further tests, alright?”

“Fair.”

Several minutes later, once Zolf had gotten his breath back, he and Hamid were finally willing to let go of each other, and Azu and Cel had re-equipped themselves, they turned back to the door and examined it more carefully this time.

“Wait!”  Hamid cried.  “We’re all drenched.  Allow me.”

With a cast of prestidigitation, everyone was dry again.  Cel offered a thumbs up in thanks, and, with a smirk, Zolf joked, “You really haven’t changed at all, have you?”

As the group headed down the hallway, Hamid and Zolf’s hands found each other, and they held tight, their hearts echoing the same sentiment as they went off to face nearly certain death once again:

You’re never alone.

[celsidebottom]

Keeping Up with the Kobolds

Chapter 6: Last Goodbyes

When the gang returns to the inn to give Wilde an update, they notice blue veins starting to appear on his skin.

(Content warning for quarantine and infections since I know that can be a little tough for people right now)

Head on over to AO3, or read this chapter below!

Chapter 1 (tumblr) (AO3)

“Wilde!  We’re back!”

“We- what happened to you?”  Zolf asked as Wilde rounded the corner.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got kobolds on you.”

“Oh, of course.  How rude.  This is Klak,” Wilde introduced, lightly shifting one of the two kobolds in his arm to introduce them to the group.  “And you remember Znal.”

“Why is one of them wearing a chef’s hat?”

“Because they’re the best cook around here, obviously.”

Zolf paused, incredulous.

“I told you that you’d love them!”  Hamid shrieked.  

Cel chuckled.  “I didn’t know you could look happy!  Every time I’ve seen you, you’ve been all hur dur dur, work work work, I have never had a fun ever in my entire life!”

“Well, what can I say?”  Wilde replied, smiling at the two kobolds in his arms, knowing full well that most of the rest of the horde was behind him, either curious about the return of their rescuers or hiding and barely peeking out from behind a wall.  “They’re not so bad after all.”

The whole group was beaming at Wilde, even Zolf, who couldn’t believe his eyes.

“We found some valuable information,” Azu explained while Hamid quietly started chatting with one of the approaching kobolds, clearly getting the dirty gossip on how much of a softy Wilde had become.  “Cel looked it over on our way back.  We think-”

She froze.

“What is it?”

“Your hand…”

Wilde looked down past Znal to examine his hand.  There, tracing across his skin, was the faintest pattern of blue veins.

“No.”  Zolf swore quietly.

Panic raced up Wilde’s spine, and he started to hyperventilate as tears formed in his eyes.  Klak and Znal hugged him a little tighter, only knowing that their friend was upset; a few other kobolds came up to his side to check on him as well.

“The kobolds… you said they were immune, right?”

Cel stepped forward to assure him.  “They are.  We were pretty sure before, but we know that now.  They’re safe.”

“Good.  That’s what matters.  I will… go to a quarantine cell.”  Wilde’s words were disjointed, and he could barely manage to put a thought together.  He carefully set down the kobolds in his arms, forcing himself to turn away even when they reached out for him and cheeped after him.  “Bring the information you have down there, and we can decide what to do next.”

“Oscar…” Hamid said meekly, but Wilde was already gone.

All of the kobolds tried to follow him, of course.  They padded along behind him, murmuring amongst themselves and casting worried glances at him.  They’d never been into the quarantine area before, but still, they diligently followed him as he slumped over to a cell and shut the door behind him before any of the kobolds could join him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped to them as the tears broke forth.  He wouldn’t let anyone else see him cry.  “I’m sick.  Hurt.  I have to…”

Small hands reached through the bars as the kobolds let out scared squawks, their eyes filled with sadness.  All Wilde wanted was to reach out and hold them, to tell his family that they would be okay, and they would be okay without him.

Instead, for fear that Cel’s calculations were wrong and the kobolds could get the disease, he slid away from them and sat on the hard cot that decorated the cell, staring blankly ahead.

When the door to the prison opened again, Wilde quickly wiped his eyes and stood, buttoning his jacket and readying his appearance as best he could in a room that didn’t allow magic.

“So, what did you find out?”

“Wilde, don’t do that,” Zolf insisted.  It looked like he’d been crying too.  “Don’t just act like this isn’t happening.”

“What am I supposed to do?”  Wilde exclaimed.  “The mission comes first.  We have to… you have to…”

“I think I’m close to figuring out what causes this,” Cel explained.  “So, from there, a cure is easy.  Relatively.”

“Good.  Then, get working on that.  Don’t worry about me.  And, when I'm gone… take care of the kobolds.  I know they don’t need to be taken care of, but…”

“Wilde…”  Zolf whispered, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I promise, Oscar.”  Hamid nodded.  He then tugged on Azu and Cel’s elbows, and they left Zolf and Wilde alone.

“We’re going to fix this,” Zolf said firmly.

Wilde smiled despite himself.  “We both know we’ve said that before, and we never did.”

“But we’re close now.  We have a little bit before the disease gets too far.  We’ll… we’ll cure you.  You’ll be fine.  You will be.  Damnit!”

“I’m just happy to know you’ll be in good hands.”

A heavy sob broke from Zolf’s lips and he turned away before the pain became too much.  Once he was gone with the rest of his friends, Wilde allowed himself to cry again, sinking to his knees in the middle of the cell.  Loud arguing sounded from outside the prison door and twenty pairs of glowing, worried eyes stared back at Wilde.  Several kobolds hugged each other when they realized that Wilde wouldn’t take their hands, and they waited, watching, until Znal made for the door.

They didn’t shut it behind them, though, so Wilde could hear Hamid and Cel talking to them in hushed draconic.  Znal nodded, then came back into quarantine, rounded up a few other kobolds, and disappeared again.  As they did so, Wilde could hear Hamid explaining to his friends that Znal had asked if they could help, but Hamid told them to stay put, take care of the other kobolds while they worked on a cure.

Hearing this, Wilde smiled again.

A few minutes later, the yelling outside the door dissipated and Wilde could hear footsteps, then the creaking of the inn’s main door.  Shortly thereafter, the clacking of kobold claws grew closer.

Znal and the kobolds they’d wrangled came into the room, blankets and pillows in hand, distributing them to their companions.  Each one took them and promptly made their own little dens out of the supplies, most of them right outside of Wilde’s cell where they could curl up together and still keep an eye on their sick friend.

“I’m going to miss all of you,” Wilde whispered.

He didn’t want to look at the veins on his hand, he didn’t want to watch as this disease took control of him from the inside out, he didn’t want to know what the infected version of himself might do to the kobolds or anyone else.  Instead, he looked out at the kobolds, trying to memorize each detail and remember each anecdote, even the ones that had frustrated him and infuriated him at the time.

At least, when it ended, he wouldn’t be alone.