Doesn't ask, is anything wrong? What's going on? Do you need to, I'm always here for you, Eric. Do you need to talk?Wrote Feeny under the bus too. -Will
When Shawn does it in Chick Like Me, that's the joke. It's like, if you ever need to talk, which is so funny because it's so in character, sensitive Feeny, being a good teacher, taking this seriously. -Rider
No. Literally calls Eric over just to insult him. Nobody is their character anymore. -Will
Watching Dariax fall limp was like having the breath sucked from Dorian's chest. He gasped for air that, when it finally pierced his lungs, did so with harsh stings. But nothing stung like the ache in his chest as Myr'atta swept Dariax towards her, using his limp form as a human shield.
His eyes searched frantically for Orym, Opal, and Fearne. But they were all too far. Dorian pushed forward towards Dariax not even noticing the bag, that held the vestige, slip down and hit the soft ground below.
He landed in front of Myr'atta. He reached out with desperate fingers towards Dariax, but My'ratta pulled him away, shielding him from Dorian's touch.
A whimper gathered in his throat as blood pooled at Dariax's lips. He had to get to him. He had to save him. He couldn't lose him.
With a new surge of determination, he reached out again, wrapping his arms around the pair, hoping for any kind of contact. He just needed to touch Dariax. The magic would do the rest, he just needed contact.
His fingers brushed Dariax's cheek. His eyes closed as he pushed with all his might, the last of his energy, into healing Dariax.
His eyes snapped open when he heard the beginning of a familiar incantation. Myr'atta was trying to counter spell. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't have anything left in him after this. He was tapped for the day, drained of his magic. He wouldn't get another chance to heal Dariax. Orym and Opal had no way of healing that he knew of, and he didn't know if Fearne still had anything left in her or if she would even get there in time.
"You promised," he growled out. "You said they'd be safe."
Time seemed to slow impossibly once the words fell from his lips.
"The deal was you give me a champion. I still don't have one," The sultry voice growled in his ears.
"I told you I'd give you Poska," Dorian hated the desperation in his tone.
"You could wear it yourself," The voice lowered, taunting him.
"We made a deal," he tried again, forcing back tears.
The voice sighed though it resembled a growl.
"I can't lose him," Dorian whispered.
"I want my champion," and with that time returned to normal and the incantation that Myr'atta was casting faltered as spiders fell from her mouth in creeping droves.
Dorian's finger tingled as the spell landed, the last of his magic surge at full strength into the unconscious Dariax.
A breath was punched from Dorian's chest as the whiskey brown eyes of Dariax opened.
His fingers slid from the dwarf's face and clutched at the front of his shirt, taking advantage of the loosened grip Myr'atta had on him.
He yanked, pulling Dariax into his arms as he kicked Myr'atta away, trying to push her over the edge. But she held on, glaring daggers at him and Dariax.
"Are you okay?" Dorian spoke into Dariax's hair as he held him against his chest.
"Yeah, I'm okay, Thanks buddy," Dariax's arms wrapped around Dorian.
Dorian wasn't even paying attention to the dire wolf now in front of him. "Don't ever do that again," he pleaded.
"Yeah, yeah, okay," Dariax nodded, still pressed to Dorian's chest.
Dorian didn't move to release Dariax, even when Opal appeared in front of them wearing the familiar crown. The very crown that he promised to give to Poska.
-
The five of them stood amidst the rubble of rocks and dirt mounds, tired and breathless, but alive.
"Should we make camp?" Orym offered, his eyes still set on a seemingly fine Opal.
"I could use a rest," Fearne nodded, her own concerned eyes still on Opal.
"Yeah," Opal agreed easily, clutching the necklace that hung from her neck.
"I'll start a fire," Dariax went about gathering sticks for a fire as Dorian's eyes followed him.
"He's okay now, you know," Orym's voice was next to him suddenly.
"Huh?" Dorian blinked at Orym.
"You healed him. He's okay now," The corner of Orym's mouth pulled into a half smile.
"Oh, yes. I-I know," Dorian's eyes fell to Dariax before landing on Orym again.
Orym squinted at Dorian, "you should tell him."
"I...don't know what you're talking about," Dorian scoffed a laugh as if dismissing the halfling.
Orym only gave a thoughtful hum before walking over to Fearne and Opal.
Dorian laid out his bedroll, forcing his focus to not shift to the dwarf lighting the fire.
"You're sure you're okay?" Fearne's soft voice asked, reaching a hand to touch Opal's temple where a black substance had trickled down.
"I feel fine. I mean...all things considered," Opal shrugged.
"Let's try and get this off again, yeah?" Orym offered.
"Okay," Opal bent her head forward.
"Back to back?" Dariax's voice pulled Dorian's focus from where Fearne was attempting to remove the crown.
"Huh? Oh. Yes. Back to back. Of course," Dorian nodded, forcing a smile.
"You okay?" Dariax frowned as he laid his bedroll next to Dorian's.
"Me?" Dorian would never understand how Dariax was always so concerned for everyone else.
"Yeah, you've been real quiet," Dariax pointed out.
"Just worried about Opal," Dorian lied.
Dariax tilted his head and looked towards where Opal was wincing in pain as Fearne tugged. The crown fighting to remain in place.
"I think she'll be okay," Dariax nodded assuredly.
"And what about you? Are you okay?" Dorian bit his bottom lip as his eyes fell to the dried blood at the corner of Dariax's lips.
"Yeah, I'm great," Dariax smiled, his blood-stained mouth making Dorian look away with a grimace.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Dariax sat next to Dorian, their arms merely inches apart.
"I just..." Dorian trailed off, his eyes now on Orym who gave him a reassuring nod.
"Do you need healing? Cause, I don't have any energy left in me, I used the last of it getting you up, but I might have a potion at the bottom of my bag, I just need to-"
Dorian caught Dariax's arm, keeping him from digging into his bag.
"No, I'm fine."
Knowing Dariax had used the last of his energy on healing Dorian made his chest clench.
"Thank you again, for that," Dorian smiled at Dariax.
"Sure thing. But what's eating at you?" Dariax pressed, nudging Dorian's shoulder with his own.
Dorian looked down at Dariax with a frown, "I didn't like seeing you like that today. I almost-we almost lost you."
"Aww, I'm okay. You saved my life," Dariax beamed up at Dorian.
"I don't want to lose you, Dariax, and I know they don't either."
"I don't want to lose you either. You fell today too, ya know," Dariax's smile was replaced with a frown of his own.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I should have been more careful," Dorian bowed his head as if in shame, his hands fisted the bedroll on either side of him.
"Aha," Fearne cheered as she held up the crown victoriously before dropping it and leaning over to place a gentle healing hand on either side of Opal's face. Orym kicked the discarded crown closer to the fire, a relieved look now on his face.
"It's okay, I promise to always protect you," Dariax said, forcing Dorian's attention back to their conversation.
Dariax was smiling up at him.
"And I you," Dorian returned the smile. He fought the cold chill that slid down his back and ignored the small black spider that ran across his clenched fist.
*AN*
Just a little something I threw together!
Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!
Dorian wasn't sure exactly when it happened. He'd been following these people for weeks now and while he shouldn't have been surprised, the small orange petal in his hand pulled a gasp from his chest.
He'd had a tickle in this throat, but surely this wasn't the cause of it. Perhaps the flower petal had fallen from the sky in his coughing fit. He continued to stare at the petal. A story he once read as a boy flitted through his memory. A disease. One wrought by loneliness and desire.
"Dorian?" Dariax's voice pulled his attention from the threat in his hand.
"Coming," He wiped his hand on his pants, brushing away the flower and all the ridiculous ideas it brought with it.
He ignored the lump in his throat in favor of joining the others as they climbed into their cart.
The coughing continued to ail him over the course of the day's journey from Byroden. No petals though.
Fy'ra's watchful eyes were focused on him as he coughed once again.
"You okay, buddy?" Dariax asked.
"I'm fine," he forced another smile, "just allergies."
Dariax seemed satisfied with that response. Fy'ra, however, kept her gaze on him.
One more coughing fit, yet this time something warm and wet fell into his hand. He looked down at the blood-soaked petal.
He glanced up but thankfully Dariax had pulled Fy'ra into conversation. He tucked the flower into the pocket on his bag and wiped the smear of blood on his pants.
He was thankful when they stopped for the night, his chest had grown tight, and he was sure Fy'ra was going to question him if he continued to cough like he had been.
"Dorian, are you okay?" Orym was the one to pull him aside.
"Huh? Oh yes, I'm fine. Why?" Dorian had just wiped the blood from his lips.
"You've been coughing all day. Fearne and I heard you from the front of the cart."
"Oh, yeah, just allergies, I guess. Not used to being outside so much," Dorian grinned. It wasn't technically a lie. He wasn't used to being outdoors. He was much more of a city boy.
"It's not the proximity of the crown, is it?" Orym pressed.
"I don't think so," Dorian shook his head. "I haven't been near it."
Orym's shoulders dropped as if releasing tension. "Good. Get some rest."
Dorian nodded.
Rest, as it turned out, would not be easily possible. His chest ached with each breath. He imagined the roots of whatever flower was consuming his lungs, digging in. It only made him cough more.
"Here," Fearne's voice pulled his attention to the faun kneeling next to his bedroll.
"I made you tea. It'll help with the cough," She smiled at him as she extended a small cup. The liquid steamed despite the cool temperature of the evening.
"You made tea in the middle of the jungle?" Dorian sat up and took the cup, eager for the hot liquid to soothe his throat.
"Dariax asked if I had anything to help. He was worried. So, we gathered things in the jungle to make a tea. Don't worry none of it's poisonous," Fearne assured, her doe eyes watching him.
"Dariax?" Dorian's eyes glanced over to the sleeping dwarf.
The tightness in his chest burned. The vines pinching and grinding with each breath he tried to take.
His throat burned as he coughed, blood and blood-soaked petals spurt onto his open hand.
"Oh goodness, those aren't allergies," Fearne's eyes widened as she stared into Dorian's hand.
"It's nothing," Dorian wiped his hand on his pants once again, the stain growing even more.
Fearne reached out and plucked a discarded flower petal.
"You don't have allergies, Dorian, you have Breath's Bane," Fearne said. She looked up at him with sympathetic eyes.
"That's ridiculous. Breath's Bane isn't real," Dorian scoffed before pressing the tea to his lips, letting the liquid soothe the rawness of his throat.
As if in protest to his claims, he coughed again, sputtering blood and orange petals.
"Hmm," Fearne hummed as she scooped up the petals and inspected them.
Dorian took in a labored breath as the coughing subsided.
"Zinnia petals," Fearne said.
"What?" Dorian frowned at the faun.
"These are the petals of a Zinnia flower."
"What does that mean?" Dorian asked, wiping the blood from his lips.
"Well, Zinnia flowers often represent affection or everlasting love," Fearne let the cool wind carry the petals away, watching them drift to the jungle floor.
Dorian's shoulders slumped, "I can't have Breath's Bane."
"Do you know who it is?" Fearne asked, glancing over the sleeping group.
Dorian shook his head, "Of course not."
Fearne looked down at the orange petals splattered with Dorian's blood.
"There's an old saying where I'm from, 'The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.'"
Dorian scoffed a laugh, "The same place where the saying 'Time is a weird soup' comes from?"
"Yes," Fearne nodded with a wide smile.
"Do they have any other sayings?" He chided. He knew he was being rude, but he really didn't like where the conversation was going.
"Well, we have lots of sayings," Fearne shrugged, oblivious to Dorian's mal intent.
"Such as?" Dorian decided to take this opportunity to keep the subject off him.
"Well, let me think," Fearne tapped her chin.
Before she could think of another one, Dorian was coughing again. The petals were more numerous than they were hours before. It started with one or two at a time. Now he looked at his palm where four petals were speckled in his blood.
"Oh dear, that looks like it's getting worse," Fearne leaned over her hand cupping the bottom of Dorian's.
"Don't tell the others," Dorian pleaded.
"You know, if this goes on... it'll kill you," Fearne's brow pulled into a worried frown.
"This is how I would go, choking on flower petals," Dorian sighed. He wiped away the petals and blood.
"I might be able to make you some tea that can slow the symptoms," Fearne tapped her fingers together as she looked around them.
"I'll need some Nettle, Meadowsweet, Valerian root, Calendula, Lemon balm and Fever few," Fearne said.
"I don't know what any of those are. How are we gonna get any of them in the middle of the jungle?"
"Well, I always keep Meadowsweet on me. It's very good for upset stomach," Fearne sifted through a pouch on her hip and pulled out a handful of dried flowers.
"What about the others you listed? What are they good for?" Dorian coughed again.
"Nettle is good for pain. Valerian root will help you sleep. Calendula is good for sore throat. Lemon balm will help calm the lungs and minimize the coughing. Fever few will help keep away any fevers."
"Where do we get all of that?" Dorian would love for the cough to at least lessen.
"Easy," Fearne held out a hand and a tiny flame burst from the center of her palm. Out of the flame grew a single yellow flower.
"Calendula," she announced proudly as the fire disappeared, leaving behind the single flower.
"You can make all the things you'll need?" Dorian asked.
"Mhmm," Fearne nodded.
"Okay. Thank you," Dorian relaxed, taking a sip of the tea Fearne had given him.
"I'll lay them by the fire to dry out, and I'll make you a tea in the morning. For now, that tea should help you sleep. I thought it was allergies, so unfortunately it won't help with much else."
"It's still soothing, thank you."
"You're very welcome. Goodnight Dorian."
"Goodnight, Fearne."
Sleep for him was fitful but he managed best he could. And when morning came, he found Fearne mixing up a tea for him just as she'd promised.
She handed it to him in a waterskin. Nothing was said as he took it, but he gave her a grateful smile.
-
The tea helped. His coughing wasn't nearly as often or as violent, however, the disease wasn't getting any better. His chest grew tighter and heavier each day as he struggled to breath. Fearne continued to make the tea every morning for him.
Dorian grew to loathe the Zinnia flower. Each time he coughed there were more petals. He knew how the stories went. It started off slow and grew worse and worse until whole flowers consumed his lungs, leaving no room for breath. Hence the name Breath's Bane.
He'd managed to keep the petals hidden, insisting the jungle air was the cause of his ailment, but even in his dreams, his lungs ached for relief that would never come.
It wasn't until they reached Niirdal-Poc that even the tea wasn't enough.
His friends grew more concerned, but he dismissed them, insisting he just needed proper rest.
They believed his lie. But standing in front of Tetrarch Thrascuur the lie fell away, useless.
"Really, I'm fine," Dorian insisted when the Tetrarch continued to look through him. He clenched the blood-soaked flowers in his hand.
"You would die for them?" Tetrarch asked, ignoring Dorian's insistence.
Dorian refused to look at his friends, refused to look at him.
"Do you have a way to cure him?" Fearne asked, stepping forward.
"There is one cure, and only one who can give it," Tetrarch Thrascuur's eyes fell to Dorian once more.
"Who?" Fy'ra asked desperately. Her job was to protect these people and she was failing Dorian.
"Only he knows."
Dorian's jaw clenched. "I'm fine. There are more pressing matters we need to deal with."
"Only he knows who can cure him? How?" Fy'ra was looking between Dorian and Thrascuur.
"Love is a vast color that only the heart knows how to paint," Thrascuur answered, his eyes falling to where Dorian was coughing up orange petals once again.
"Love?" Fy'ra looked to Dorian again. "You're in love?"
"What? No, I'm not in-" his words were cut off by desperate coughs. Blood slicked petals piled in his hand.
"You're in love?" Dariax asked, his eyes wide as they met Dorian's.
"I don't understand why that would make him cough," Opal said, a sneer on her face as more bloodied petals came up.
"I'm just gonna-" Dorian gestured over his shoulder before turning and bolting out the door.
Dariax walked over to a discarded flower petal, freckled with Dorian's blood.
"Is he going to die?" Dariax asked, his eyes turning up to Thrascuur.
"The illness will consume him," Thrascuur nodded.
Dariax crushed the petal in his hand, "How do we cure him?"
"Only he knows," Thrascurr said.
"What does that mean?" Opal demanded; her tone laced with annoyance.
"Only the one whom he loves may cure him," Thrascuur responded.
"Well, how do we know who that is?"
"He knows who it is," Fearne sighed.
"Well why hasn't he told us?" Opal looked towards the door Dorian had gone through.
-
Dorian leaned a hand against the warm stone as he coughed half whole flowers into his other hand. He sucked in a breath, sharp and shallow. His lungs wheezed in defiance.
A voice crept into his mind as he coughed.
"There's another cure. He'll never love you and you'll die because of it. Or...I could fix you."
Dorian clenched his fist bracing against the wall, dragging his knuckles across rough stone.
"How?"
"I can cut it out, but it will cut out all those feelings along with it."
Dorian pulled in more shallow painful breaths before responding, "I won't love him anymore?"
"Not even a little," The voice practically growled.
Dorian remained silent, weighing his options.
"Isn't that what you want?" The voice pressed. "He'll never love you. You're not good enough for him."
Dorian coughed again, more flowers fell over the side of his hand, spattering across the stone alleyway.
"He's killing you and he doesn't even care." She taunted.
"He doesn't know," Dorian disagreed.
"Of course he does. Everyone knows. It's so pathetically obvious."
Dorian closed his eyes and took in a deep painful breath.
"Is he worth dying for?" The voice was deep and sultry and made Dorian's spine tingle.
"Dorian," Dariax's voice yanked Dorian away from his thoughts and the voice.
"Dariax," Dorian rasped, wiping his mouth as he turned to his friend.
"You know who it is. Tetrarch Thrascuur said that only the person you love can heal you, but you have to tell them," Dariax walked closer to Dorian.
Dorian moved to hide the evidence of his demise.
"I'm fine, Dariax," Dorian said.
Dariax frowned at the wheezing sound that pressed from Dorian's chest.
"Look, I don't know what he can do to help you, but you have to tell him. I don't want you to die because of this," Dariax pleaded, closing the distance between them.
Dorian frowned but before he could respond, deep, rattling coughs erupted in his chest, forcing more blood and flowers up.
This time he couldn't hide the flowers. They were splayed in front of him on the stone as he bent over, heaving. His knees connected with hard ground as the violent coughs unsteadied him.
Strong hands cupped the side of his face as the coughing subsided, his head was lifted so his eyes met the concern in Dariax's.
"Dorian, please," Dariax begged.
The warm tingle from Dariax's magic pricked at his cheeks where Dariax was touching him.
"Healing spells don't work, Fearne already tried," Dorian rasped, his hand reached up to touch the back of Dariax's.
"Please tell Orym how you feel. He can cure you," Dariax didn't release Dorian.
"It's not Orym, Dariax," Dorian pulled away as his coughing took over again.
Dariax blinked at Dorian. He had been so sure it was Orym. He was always looking at him and checking in with him.
"Then tell whoever it is. They have to fix you," Dariax ignored the sting in his own chest. He had come to terms with Dorian's feelings for Orym, but knowing it was someone else, and that it was love, it hurt all over again.
"I can't," Dorian didn't bother wiping the blood away this time. He tasted the copper flavor on his tongue, and he couldn't do anything about it. He was dying.
Dariax reached forward and wiped at the blood on Dorian's bottom lip with a gentle thumb.
Dorian's breath hitched painfully.
"Why?" Dariax asked, a new desperation in his tone.
"Because I don't want them to blame themselves. It's not their fault," Dorian bowed his head as he sunk back, his feet trapped under him now.
"But they could fix you. You just have to tell them. It's not fair. You can't die. Please, Dorian," Dariax stepped forward.
"It won't matter, you don't love me back and that's the only way this-" Dorian's words were cut off by another round of violent coughs.
Dariax froze in place, "Me?"
Dorian heaved up a mostly full flower. He was sure he only had a day before the illness took him. He wiped away the blood, turning back to Dariax.
In an instant Dariax's hands were on his face again and his lips were on his with a hard press.
Dorian froze as his brain tried to process what was happening.
Dariax pulled away, "What do I need to do? I'll do anything you need."
Dorian blinked at Dariax. "What?"
"You said it wouldn't matter, because I don't love you, but I do so tell how to fix this," Dariax had released Dorian's face and was reaching for his hands.
"I said...oh," Dorian continued to stare. He hadn't caught his slip up.
He took in a deep breath. The air rushed into his lungs with such a force that it stung, but not in the way it had before. The air had room now. No roots or petals to contend with. He pulled in another deep breath, slower this time and nearly laughed when his lungs filled with ease.
"Dariax," Dorian clutched the dwarf's hands in his.
"Yes?" Dariax looked up at Dorian with frantic eyes.
"You did it," Dorian laughed, pulling Dariax towards him.
"Oof," Dariax grunted as he was gripped in a tight hug.
"Did what?" Dariax asked when Dorian pulled away.
"You cured me."
Dariax looked down at the bloody flower at Dorian's knees. "But I didn't do anything."
"All I needed was you," Dorian lifted Dariax's chin.
"All this time I thought you liked Orym."
Dorian laughed again, "It's always been you."
Dariax lunged forward, catching Dorian's blood-stained lips in another kiss.
Dorian tangled his fingers in Dariax's orange-colored strands.
Perhaps it's right, what they say, 'The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.'
*AN*
Just a little Hanahaki disease idea I threw together.
Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!
The sound of growling and snarling was loud in Dorian's ears as sharp teeth came at him. He braced for impact as he tried to dodge out of the way. Letting out a sharp cry, he tumbled to the ground as the incoming teeth sank into his side. The last thing he saw and heard was the sound of Orym shouting his name and Opal running towards him.
Dariax had seen his friends take brutal hits, he'd even seen Opal fall unconscious once, but this was Dorian. His heart sank to his feet as he saw the teeth of the monster connect with the bard's flesh.
"Dorian," the name left his lips in a cry as he sprinted forward. He had to get to him before the creature took another bite.
Orym slid in front of the second creature, taking it's attention away from a now unconscious Dorian.
Dariax dropped to his knees next to Dorian.
"Opal, find Dariax. He needs Dariax," Orym shouted over his shoulder as he swiped at the beast.
Dariax frowned up at Orym with confusion before remembering he looked like Opal.
He yanked off the hat and shouted, "I've got him."
Orym did a double take almost getting struck by the monster in front of him.
"I've got you, Dorian," Dariax pressed a hand to the wound that was rapidly bleeding out, as he fished into his armor for the symbol he kept around his neck.
"Come on Dorian, please, you can't leave me. Everyone always leaves, don't you leave me too," Dariax pleaded as the blood gushed around his fingers.
He closed his eyes and gripped the medallion tightly in his hand not holding Dorian together.
A small glow emanated from Dariax's hand as he whispered the spell's incantation.
He opened his eyes to see the wound under his hand slowly stop bleeding.
"Come on," Dariax willed his magic to do more, forcing the magic's strength to heal Dorian's wound further.
Slowly the skin began to knit together, closing most of the way.
Dariax looked up to see Orym had taken out one of the monsters and that Fyra' rai was now standing between them and the other creature.
"Go. Take him out of here," Fyra rai demanded, her staff out and at the ready.
Dariax slid his arms under Dorian and pulled him away from the thick of the fray. He pulled him into the alley way. As he laid him down, Dariax tucked his cloak under Dorian's head.
"Come on, man, you gotta wake up," Dariax pleaded, brushing a strand of hair from Dorian's pale face.
Seeing the bard covered in so much of his own blood made Dariax sick. He was supposed to protect him, keep him safe. That was his one job.
"I'm sorry I let you down," Dariax spoke sadly to his unconscious friend. "I didn't mean to," he took Dorian's hand in his, gripping it tightly as he looked up to where his friends were still fighting the last monster.
"Dariax?" Dorian's voice rasped, pulling the dwarf's attention back to the bard.
"Dorian, oh thank gods," he breathed out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Dorian went to sit up and winced at the pain, "What are you apologizing for?" he asked, looking around at his surroundings as if trying to piece together what happened.
"I wasn't there. I should have been there. I'm so sorry. I understand if you want to kick me out of the group. First Opal and now you, I'm the worst-"
"Dariax," Dorian's hand came up to touch the shorter man's cheek, cutting his sentence short, "You didn't do anything wrong. You saved me."
Dariax felt a blush pull at his cheeks, "I shouldn't have had to. I should have been there to protect you," he dropped his eyes in shame.
"I went back for Orym, that's my fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I promise," Dorian assured the dwarf.
He went to stand but the pain in his side pulled too much, causing him to falter.
"Hold on, let me heal you again, I didn't manage to get it all before. It was so bad. So bad," Dariax frowned as he reached for Dorian. He placed a hand gently over the still raw slice on his side.
Dorian flinched at the pain.
"I'm sorry," Dariax apologized again as he gripped his symbol.
Dorian watched Dariax mutter the incantation under his breath and instantly felt the warmth from the spell wash over him. The pain in his side lessened to barely a sting.
"How's that?" Dariax asked.
Dorian leaned forward, causing their foreheads to touch, "Much better," he breathed out in relief.
Dariax stilled, his hand still on Dorian's side.
"Thank you, Dariax," Dorian whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the dwarf's head before pulling back.
"Don't mention it," Dariax responded quietly, his heart rate in overdrive, and his muscles still locked in place.
"We should check on the others," Dorian said, finally managing to pull himself to his feet.
Dariax nodded, following Dorian's lead as he shook off the stun.
By the time they reached the others, the fight was over.
"Dorian, are you okay?" Orym reached the bard, placing a concerned hand on his forearm.
"I'm great now, thanks to Dariax," Dorian smiled at the dwarf.
"You did good, Dariax," Fyra' rai praised.
"You got to him just in time," Orym nodded in agreement.
"It's good thing you're here, Dariax, we would be in trouble without you," Fearne spoke up as well.
Opal, who was covered in blood and holding a severed head, nodded in agreement.
Dariax felt a blush touch his cheeks again. It was nice to feel appreciated. He was sure that he'd failed them, and they'd hate him, but the kind words and thankful looks told Dariax that wasn't the case. His friends wanted him there, at least for now.
*AN*
Just a fun little what if Dorian had gone down in last night's episode....
Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!
