#these two have a lot to talk about once trahearne wakes up asdlfjasdf

[kerra-and-company]

Actions 15 from the most recent list✨

Thanks a bunch @i-mybrunettelady! :D Have a fic that's basically the sequel to this one I wrote a bit ago (also for a prompt you sent me, funnily enough!):

Warnings: none, I don't think; spoilers for my version of HoT's ending, if that counts as anything

15. for one muse to fall asleep in the hospital bed with the other

Rel remembered only two things from the chopper ride back to base: the pressure of bodies on either side of him—Kerra and Caithe—and the feeling of Trahearne’s hand in both of his, dry leaves crinkling as Rel poured wave after wave of healing magic into the Firstborn.

Despite Rel’s efforts, though, Trahearne was still unconscious.

When they’d touched down, he and Braham had taken the Marshal to a medical tent. The other healers had wanted Rel to leave. He’d refused. Kerra—and Nisha, thank Ameyalli that xe was still alive and mostly unscathed when they returned—had convinced them to let him stay.

I would have stayed regardless, he thought.

There was a part of him that wished he could take Trahearne’s place. Another part pointed out that it would never have been possible. Even if they’d been on the same airship, even if he’d been captured too or instead, Rel would never have been as valuable to Mordremoth as Trahearne. Healer, not Marshal. Not a warrior, nor a chess piece. Mordremoth would have killed Rel, not trapped him.

Besides, Rel thought, I would never want him to worry like this.

Rel sighed. His eyes fell to his hands, still holding Trahearne’s and lit up blue from his glow and his magic. They shone brightly in the fading light; it was getting dark in the jungle.

“Thought I might find you here, tree-kid,” a voice said behind him.

“Hello, Ceera,” Rel said, barely audible.

The Pact medic sat beside him. He could see her face wrinkle out of the corner of his eye. “You’re still healing him?”

“He’s not awake yet. Of course I am.”

“Everyone needs rest, Rel. I think it’s time you give him some.”

“I’m not leaving,” Rel bit out. Ceera smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you to. Let his body heal on its own. Sometimes that’s more helpful than magic.” Ceera stood and put a hand on his shoulder. “And you need to rest, too, Healer.”

Rel’s lips twitched. “Hypocrite.”

Ceera threw her arms up. “Fine. Stubborn plant. I’ll go to my tent. But you better not still be working when your friends come to check on you.” She turned towards the door.

For the first time, Rel lifted his head. “Wait. Is Kerra all right?”

Ceera froze mid-step. “The…Commander is fine,” she said, a bit stilted. “Tired, like you. She’s with your sibling and that spiky sylvari. Good night, kid.”

“‘Night, Ceera.”

The tent flapped shut behind her.

Rel let himself relax, shutting off the magic flow as exhaustion settled over him like a stifling blanket. He looked at Trahearne’s face. His eyes were still closed, his brow slightly furrowed.

Rel stood and gently ran his thumb over the furrow as if he could smooth it out. He brushed a few stray leaves to the side, away from Trahearne’s face.

I’m exhausted. I need sleep. But even thinking about walking away made Rel recoil.

I can’t leave him.

So, he climbed up on the bed next to Trahearne. He draped an arm over Trahearne’s chest, both to protect him and to feel him breathe. You’re here. You’re alive. I will make sure you stay that way.

He suddenly wanted to sing, or play his lute, but he no longer had the energy to move. Instead, he hummed softly, the lyrics scrolling by in his head until he fell asleep.

There is a long, invisible thread

That wraps around my heart and wraps around your head

It tightens its grip when things go unsaid

And I can’t break free…