A puff of gray smoke replaced Meklavar’s useless, cowardly traveling companion at her side. She growled under her breath about scaredy-cats leaving her to face two ugly, hulking orcs in the forest by herself.
Meklavar rolled left and a heavy sword landed right where she’d been a split second before, slicing the ground. She swiped her axe through the orc’s thigh. He fell onto his knee with a roar that sent disgusting shudders down her spine. Blood spurted from the wound.
She didn’t have time to assess the damage because of the massive fist coming at her. Meklavar ducked just in time, but the second orc caught the edge of her helmet and sent it flying off her head. “Quiznaking slug-fucker,” she cursed.
She blocked orc #2’s attack, but suddenly the world tipped from under her feet and she landed on her butt. Meklavar twisted in the grip of orc #1, who lay bleeding on the ground, on her ankle. In one clean swipe she chops off the hand at the wrist.
She heard quick slicing sound. An almighty crash like a boulder falling from the sky jolted behind her. Then there was another schwick, and an arrow sprouted from the neck of orc # 1. When she turned, she saw orc #2 also on the ground, with an arrow shaft sticking out from between his ribs in a chink in his armor.
Meklavar looked up. Pike crouched in the canopy abover her, crossbow at the ready and a smirk on his face. He gracefully leapt down and hauled her to her feet. “I believe that’s two for Pike, zero for Mek.”
A twitch caught Meklavar’s eye. Orc #2 stiffly stretched dying fingers toward his sword. Meklavar pivotes around Pike and threw her axe straight into his forehead. The blade embedded itself satisfyingly deep. “Count again, kitty cat.”
Pike’s tail flicked. “He was already dead!”
“He was twitching!”
“You can’t finish him off a hair’s width from the brink of death, that’s cheating.”
“Oh ho ho, so it’s fine when you shoot the one who was already bleeding out from a leg wound in the neck but this doesn’t count? It’s one-to-one, Pike.”
Stowing his crossbow, Pike stuck his tongue out at her. Coming from literally anyone not a cat it would have had the desired effect, but instead the crescent of pink poking out between his lips just made him look adorable. “I’ll win next time, Meklavar. You’ll see.”
She reached up to scritch one downy ear. “In your little kitty dreams.”
finally i write a piklavar fic, which has been my ambition since season six!! it was meant to be a fill for a prompt, but the fic itself had other ideas so it’s now its own thing i’m sorry to everyone whose prompts i have yet to fill. ~3200 words. enjoy!! <3
Pike is smitten the moment he sees her, and it only grows worse when the words family heirloom cross her lips. He’s always been fond of pinching objects with a certain sentimental value attached, even if pawning them off sometimes proves sticky.
(He refuses to think about the cursed necklace that gave him two left feet for a week.)
Of course, convincing her his motives aren’t as nefarious as they seem is a little more…difficult.
“Why would I want to travel with a thief?” Meklavar asks, her eyebrows drawn together.
“Ninja assassin,” Pike corrects on reflex.
They’re only a few leagues beyond the vanquished dragon’s lair, and from the way her eyes droop and the sweat beads down her forehead, she’s in need of a good night’s sleep.
But there are no inns this deep in the forest so close to a dragon’s hideout - although he’s promised he knows of one.
With her so exhausted, her guard likely lowers, and Pike can afford to ask a few pertinent questions. “So this Jewel of Jitan,” he says, flinging an arm around her shoulders as they trudge through the trees, the rest of their party dragging a few paces behind them. “What is it?”
Meklavar shoots him a look from the corner of her eye, a cute little pout on her lips. “I’m not telling you that.”
“Come on, Meklavar,” Pike needles, leaning ever so slightly against her. “Sate my curiosity.”
“So you can steal it first?” She rolls her eyes and shoves him off her, but not before Pike catches a hint of color in her pale cheeks. “I don’t think I will.”
“Just from a description?” Pike scoffs, his pace not faltering. It’s not difficult keeping up with her short stride, but she walks so briskly that he barely notices any difference between their paces. Perhaps this dwarf is used to walking beside someone taller than she…
“You could find it first,” Meklavar points out pragmatically.
And that’s when Pike has one of his more brilliant ideas.
“I can help you find it,” he says.
It takes a few steps for Pike to realize Meklavar isn’t keeping pace anymore, and when he turns, she’s several steps behind him, her eyes wide. “What?” he prompts, resting his hands on his hips and raising an eyebrow at her.
“Didn’t you hear anything I said?” she demands.
“About…?”
“I’m not traveling with a thief,” Meklavar says incredulously.
“A ninja assassin,” Pike insists, sighing in exasperation. “I didn’t think you had such a poor memory, Meklavar.”
“I don’t—ugh, never mind,” she growls, smacking a hand to her forehead. “Why would I want to travel with someone that would sooner steal my family heirloom than help me recover it?”
“Hmm…” Pike taps his chin, pretending to consider her question more than he already has. “Perhaps because it was stolen and I - a thief, as you keep accusing me of being - know the circles that other thieves walk in?” He flashes her a smirk. “And maybe, just maybe”—he bridges the distance between them, stepping so close she has to crane her neck back to look him in the eye—”I know where to start looking?”
When Meklavar blinks at him, her lips parting slightly in surprise, Pike realizes he’s made a grave mistake.
This close, he can pick out every last sliver of brown in her eyes and watch the shadows cast by her lashes, track the strands of hair falling out from under her helmet and resting against her forehead and cheeks, see every minute shift in her face while his heart pounds away and—
A stick cracks under someone’s foot, explosive in the tense silence, and Meklavar stumbles backwards away from Pike right as Block, Jiro, and Valyun emerge from the trees.
“…kill for a shepherd’s pie…” Block trails off as his eyes land on them, his jaw dropping.
Pike’s face warms, his spine tense and prepared to defend himself if someone accuses him of…something, but Meklavar already walks past him, her shoulder clocking his arm. She asks, “Do you know where to start looking for an inn with Block’s shepherd’s pie and a comfortable bed?”
He shakes his head as if that’ll dislodge the fog that settled in the instant he dared to stand so close to her and says, “You need only ask.”
The Dragon’s Shadow Inn - ominously named because it dares to lie so close to the lair of the Coranic Dragon - delivers on everything Pike promised it would.
It’s a short, squat building hidden in the trees, looking like little more than a hut made of tightly woven branches, but the warmth within contrasts with the evening chill outside, and Meklavar eagerly removes her helmet. She shakes her hair out, combing her fingers through it to rid herself of some of the sweatiness.
Eyes on her make her skin prickle, and when she glances sideways she meets Pike’s gaze. He clears his throat and turns away, crossing his arms and staring at the floor.
“What?” she says, scowling at him.
“I just thought…maybe you had ears like mine,” he mumbles.
Meklavar has the distinct impression he’s lying, so she retorts, “You knew that I’m a dwarf.”
Pike scratches the base of one of his furred ears and looks at the roaring fire in the hearth just behind her. “Did I?”
“Yes. You asked me that moments after we met.” She frowns, growing worried, and adds, “It was after I called you a thief.”
“Which I’m not,” Pike says with a petulant pout, and if not for her irritation at his continued denial she might’ve thought it cute.
Wait—
The innkeeper emerges from a back room before Meklavar can ponder that thought too much, a wide smile on his bearded - thank the ancients it’s not a mustache - face. He gestures them towards one of the only two tables - both as long as the room with benches on either side - in the common room before disappearing through another door.
“That smells good,” Block says, a wistful smile overtaking his face.
Meklavar sets her helmet on the table and, somehow, ends up sitting across from Pike. He grins at her as the innkeeper returns with a tray, serving them a shepherd’s pie loaded with mutton and potatoes and a tureen of pea soup.
Block shovels shepherd’s pie onto his plate and says, “This is the first time since my village was cursed that my stomach feels settled.”
“By all means,” Jiro says, rolling his eyes at Meklavar, “eat your fill.”
“Gladly.”
When Block finally gives the rest of them a turn - he’s kind enough to fill bowls with soup for them before digging into his own plate - Meklavar eagerly spoons for herself a serving of shepherd’s pie. But before she can taste it, Pike waves his plate at her. “What?”
“Just making sure you don’t see me stealing any of your meal,” he says.
Meklavar sighs but fills his plate. “We’re splitting the cost,” she tells him.
“Are we?” Pike says.
“We’d better,” she says, her eyes narrowing as she watches him take his first bite.
“Well, like a thief - or perhaps thieves - disappears into the night…” He waggles his eyebrows at her suggestively.
Meklavar kicks him under the table, blessed that he has long legs and she doesn’t have to stretch too far to reach them. When her boot connects with his shin, he jumps, knocking over his mug of apple cider.
The cider spills onto the floor and soaks into the wood, but Pike stares at her. “Really, Meklavar?” He rolls his eyes. “It was a joke.”
“Uh…” Block freezes with a spoon loaded with potatoes halfway to his mouth, and even Jiro and Valyun eye the brewing confrontation warily. “What happened?”
“So you confess you’re a thief,” Meklavar says, standing and slamming her hands on the table.
“You seemed convinced without me saying so,” Pike fires back with a scowl, his ears twitching furiously.
It’s the least smarmy she’s seen him since they met, and his obvious irritation - candid words or not - takes her aback. But she recovers quickly and says, “Your skills speak for themselves.”
“My skills?” Pike stands, leaning across the table towards her. “The same ones that you benefited from while we fought Dakin and the Dragon?”
“Unsavory ones,” Meklavar bites, glowering. Her shoulders are tense, hands curling into fists on the table, and the room around them is achingly silent. “Who knows what you’ve used them for before our fateful meeting?”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Pike retorts.
“I know enough to know I don’t want you anywhere near me while I’m searching for the Jewel!”
Before Pike can do much more than glare, Jiro raises a hand and says, “All right, I think that’s enough. Why don’t we finish our meal and go to bed? It’s been a…long day.”
“You were only there for the end of it,” Pike mutters, sitting back down with his arms crossed while glaring at some point over Meklavar’s head.
Meklavar follows suit, gripping her spoon so tightly she’d be worried it would snap if she cared that instant.
She finishes the rest of her meal quickly - her appetite is only slightly diminished by her quarrel with Pike - with the promise of a good night’s sleep and a continuation of her quest in the morning. And time away from Pike.
No, she doesn’t want to be anywhere near his piercing eyes or that scowl she wishes would soften into a smile or those ever so slightly flattened ears that make something unpleasant and guilty twist in her gut.
“This is obviously not…ideal,” Pike says as they peer into the room offered to them by the innkeeper.
“Obviously,” Meklavar agrees with a glower. She shoots him a fleeting glance and wonders, “Do you think Jiro would switch with you if we begged?”
Pike frowns, unimpressed with her inquiry, and says, “He just lost his twin brother, so let him mourn in peace.”
“What about Valyun switching with me?” Meklavar poses. She scowls. “I’m sure you’d much rather sleep in the same room as her.”
Her tone surprises him, and he can’t help quirking an eyebrow at her. “Just because of a little fight between friends?”
“We’re not friends,” Meklavar tells him. “We’re barely comrades since we’re parting ways soon.” But she trudges over the threshold into the room, perching on the edge of the bed to tug off her boots.
It’s the only bed, and not a very wide one at that.
Pike’s hair prickles uncomfortably, his mouth dry at the prospect. He follows Meklavar inside, making a quick circuit of the room, but it’s so small - he can probably stand at the center, where the bed is, and touch the opposite walls just by extending his arms - that there’s barely enough floorspace to stand comfortably, much less sleep.
“What about Block?” Meklavar says, tugging Pike from his thoughts. “You seem to get on with him better than you do with me.”
“And who’s fault is that?” Pike retorts, turning to face her with his hands on his hips. “You’re the one always accusing me of something I haven’t even done yet!”
For a fleeting second, Meklavar’s gaze drifts down, but her chagrin vanishes instantly. “Our entire journey here you talked about all the treasures you either stole or planned to steal.”
“Mostly from the Dragon.” Pike smirks - he won’t tell her that most of his stories stretched the truth just a bit - and leans against the wall beside the door, his feet touching the bed frame without much effort. “And Block is too big to share that small of a bed with. I’d fall off.”
Meklavar glances between him to the bed she sits on. A sigh escapes her as she says, “Then I suppose you can’t be convinced to sleep on the floor.”
“I thought dwarfs were more chivalrous than that,” Pike scolds.
Meklavar flushes - it’s obvious even in the room’s candlelit darkness - and grumbles, “I’d rather sleep on the floor than beside—”
“A thief,” Pike says, rolling his eyes and trying not to let on that hearing her call him that yet again hurt, “I know.”
“—you.” Meklavar presses her lips together. “I meant to say you.”
“Because that’s so much better.”
“It is,” Meklavar says. She sets her boots aside and stands, reaching to unclasp pieces of her armor. “It means I’m starting to dislike you on your own merits rather than just because you’re a thief.”
“I’m honored, Meklavar,” Pike deadpans. But he lets the insult stand in favor of taking off his tattered cloak. “If it’s all the same, you won’t sleep well on the floor, and who knows how often you’ll be able to sleep in an actual bed while on your quest?”
Meklavar’s hands, hovering over the clasp holding her shoulder plate in place, freeze, though she doesn’t look at him. “Why do you care?”
“I’ve lost a few things in my time,” Pike muses, examining his fingernails. He turns his back to her - affording her some small amount of privacy, although a not-so-secret part of him wouldn’t mind watching her undress - and adds in as indifferent a voice as he can manage, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
The silence in the room that descends is suffocating. For a heartbeat Pike thinks his words slew Meklavar - it would be another weapon to add to his arsenal as a ninja assassin - but then a soft touch to his arm alerts her to his presence.
It still startles a gasp from him and forces him to turn to face her.
She frowns and stares at the tiny floorspace between their feet, her hair sticking to her forehead in an unflattering way. Pike has to grab his wrist lest he reach up to push it away, has to curb the impulse to step closer while his heart beats almost encouragingly.
“I’m…sorry,” Meklavar visibly grits out, her gaze briefly flitting up to meet his. “I shouldn’t judge you so harshly, especially since you did help us defeat the Dragon - even if I still think it was for your own gain—”
“You’re great at apologizing, you know that?”
“—but…the Jewel was already stolen once and I don’t want to risk it again.”
Well, at least she has the grace to sound regretful, Pike thinks as his heart sinks.
(He won’t tell her she is - was - right to be suspicious.)
“But my offer—”
“Just because I’m sleeping in the same room as you doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to it,” Meklavar says.
Pike crosses his arms. “So you accept that fate?”
“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she says, flashing him a smile so fleeting he thinks he imagined it. “You’re pretty warm.”
Meklavar resents Pike for how quickly he falls asleep.
He sleeps on his back - another reason to dislike him - with the blankets tugged up to his chin, his chest rising and falling steadily with every deep breath.
At least he doesn’t snore.
Meklavar turns onto her side, her back to him, and closes her eyes, attempting yet again to quiet her tumultuous thoughts and fall asleep. But Pike’s offer of helping her search for her family heirloom ring through her head, and she can’t help going over his words again and again, hunting for any trace of insincerity they might’ve held.
(Damn that distracting smirk that makes her palms sweat and her heart pound.)
And then there’s the implication behind I’ve lost a few things in my time.
Meklavar hates being curious about people. Curiosity is one step removed from interest, and when her interest is piqued it’s only a little while before she wants - no, needs - to know every last fact she can about something…or someone.
She tucks a hand under her pillow, searching for a more comfortable position and leaning as far from Pike as she can possibly get without falling out of bed. But his warm presence at her back entices her, and lying on her left side isn’t as cozy as usual.
Like a masochistic moth to dragonflame, Meklavar rolls over.
Her breath catches in her throat as she scans his face, half-dreading that he’ll crack his eyelids open and see her. But he sleeps and dreams away, moonlight streaming in through a crack in the curtain falling on his face and illuminating a slight and soft smile.
Some of the tension in her spine unravels, and Meklavar gives in to temptation and lies as close to Pike as she dares. She can more easily sense him wake and skip out on them without paying his share to the innkeeper if she sleeps close to him.
(Or that’s the lie she tells herself.)
She holds her hands to her chest and closes her eyes, and a heartbeat later she dreams of a warm and fertile valley bursting with restored life, the Jewel of Jitan safely returned home.
Pike wakes with the realization that, sometime in the night, he rolled onto his stomach.
Worse, he buried his face in Meklavar’s soft brown hair and slung an arm around her waist.
But he’s not in a hurry to pull away, not when the fog of sleep still blankets his mind and the last threads of an interrupted dream linger. He sighs and pulls Meklavar closer - it’s probably safer than removing his arm if he wishes not to wake her - before pinching his eyes shut again.
The sunlight pouring through the thin curtains has other plans.
The first sign that Meklavar is joining Pike in the land of the waking is a soft groan that sends a spike of something primal through his blood. He stiffens, his hold on her freezing, and slowly pulls his face away.
He knows it’s a bad idea the instant she blinks at him with eyes heavy with sleep, a confused frown on her face.
“…Pike?”
He grins at her, still reluctant to move - maybe she hasn’t noticed his arm’s placement? - and says, “Good morning. Sleep well?”
Meklavar rolls onto her back - Pike finally and more reluctantly than he thought possible withdraws his arm - and rubs her eyes. “Surprisingly, I did.”
Pike props himself up on an elbow and peers down at her. When her gaze, more alert than before, snaps to his, he says, “All rested for a new quest?”
She pushes the blankets off and sits up, winding a few strands of her sleep-mussed hair around a finger. “I’m…hopeful.”
The smile she sends him makes warmth spread through his chest.
Pike returns it as he sits up and runs his fingers through his hair. “So what do you say about my offer to help?” he wonders.
Meklavar bites her lip with an odd glint in her brown eyes. “I say it’s worth the risk.”
Pike throws an arm around her shoulders, heedless of the startled squeak he draws from her, and promises, “You won’t regret it.”
“Help me take the Jewel of Jitan home,” Meklavar says, laughing. “Then we’ll talk about regrets.”
this was supposed to be short and sweet but now it’s ~3800 words and angsty it ends happy so i dunno what to say anymore except i hope you enjoy!! (and hope you don’t mind that the prompt is...more of an afterthought than anything ;_;)
this is also a sequel to my previous piklavar fic, but you don’t have to have read that one (or its followup) to understand this one
(53) Against a wall kiss
Therush of energy that fills Meklavar through a fight is slow to leave her. Whilethe lone orc limps away, regretting challenging a dwarf, her fists clench,muscles tensing anew.
She's itching for another enemy to fight.
Instead she finds Pike.
"Meklavar!" he says, sprinting upto her with his scarf streaming behind him. His tail twitches, the only obvioussign that he's agitated. "What happened?" He skids to a silent stop -really, if he isn't so talkative hemight actually be a decent "ninja assassin", whatever that means -before her, grabbing her chin without her permission and tilting her face.
Her skin burns where he touches her, andfrom his warm breath. "You're—"
"It's nothing," she reassureshim, pulling herself from his grip and stepping away. Her heart pounds, andshe's not sure it's just the thrill from a hard-won fight anymore, not when herlimbs tremble and her lungs ache for air.
Pike's eyes narrow right before he unwindsthe scarf from around his neck and dabs at something on her cheek.
Oh. She forgot the orc cut her with hisclaws.
"Who hurt you?" Pike wonders,something hard in his gaze as he wipes the blood off her face.
Meklavar scowls. "Some orc who thoughthe could pick on me because I'm half his size." She pats the pouch hangingfrom her belt, reassuring herself that itis still there. "And maybe because of—"
"Shh!" Pike cuts her off with ahand over her mouth, his ears swiveling around while his eyes stay on her face."Do you want any potentialthieves to hear you?"
"Thieves like you?" Meklavarretorts without much bite when Pike removes his hand. She sighs, her shouldersslumping; the energy is finally starting to leave her, weariness and a sting onher cheek and the ache of bruises replacing it.
She knows Pike's worried when he doesn'treply like usual - "I'm not a thief;I’m a ninja assassin!" - so she grabs his wrist, freezing hisattention to her face, and says, "It's just a cut, Pike."
"It could get infected," hechides her. He reaches for the canteen at his belt, upending it on his scarf,and wipes her cheek with the newly soaked fabric. "You never know what anorc has in his claws, and you're stillbleeding."
Meklavar barely notices it anymore, notwhile a new energy floods her. Her spine stiffens, and it's hard to breathewith Pike standing so close and being so...gentle.
Sometimes he confuses her, when he's likethis, attentive and almost tender, or when he simply doesn't rob her of her recovered family heirloomand leave to do with it whatever it is "ninja assassins" do withstolen artifacts. She's still wary of him - it would be foolish not to be - andsleeps with her fingers curled around the Jewel, but like most dwarfs shesleeps as deeply as a hibernating bear.
It would be a simple matter for Pike to pryher fingers apart and slide the Jewel from her grip while she slumbers, buthe...doesn't.
"You have that weird look in your eyesagain," Pike observes, his voice low.
Meklavar suppresses a shiver, worrying alip between her teeth as he steps away from her and winds the now bloodiedscarf around his upper arm. "What look?" she asks.
"That...'thinking way too hard aboutsomething' look," he explains. He pokes her in the nose - her eyes crossto keep his fingertip in view - and adds, "You look like you have a question, Meklavar." He smirks andthrows an arm around her shoulders, tugging her towards the village lying intheir path.
"Fine," Meklavar says, rollingher eyes. "I'll bite: why are you so worried about a cut?"
"Because I don't want you to wind upwith a scar on your pretty face?" Pike suggests, pointing to the oneslicing through his eye. When Meklavar raises a skeptical eyebrow - althoughshe can't help the absurdly pleasedflush that fills her at the word "pretty" - he laughs and amends,"What? Do you want us tomatch?"
She snorts. "I think it would take a little more than a facial scar for us tomatch," she teases, reaching up to run a finger along the tip of his ear.
She doesn't expect him to freeze, his eyeswidening and his posture stiffening.
Meklavar's eyes widen, and she withdrawsher hand and steps out of the fold of his arm. "I'm sorry! I didn'tthink—"
"It's fine," Pike says,scratching at his ear where she just touched it. She thinks he might be blushing,but it's hard to tell with his complexion and his cheek markings. "I'm alittle...sensitive there."
Meklavar files that information away forlater; one never knows what might prove useful...
***
Next time Meklavar's not so lucky, not whena warlock catches her alone on a mountain trail, his lupine familiar snappingits jaws at her heels.
The wolf itself is far bigger than her, itshead massive and its growl vicious. The sound sends a frightened shiver up herspine, and she realizes that this is what prey animals must feel when they hearit.
She swings her battle ax towards it,pushing it away from her. It's enough to keep it on its toes, but it plowsahead, backing her up until her back collides with something firm and—
It's not a tree.
"Give me the Jewel," the warlocksays as he slides a knife under her throat. His other arm wraps around her andher bulky armor, trapping her arms against her sides.
Meklavar's eyes widen, her heart pounding,as she mentally runs through her options. But with a knife - when she swallowsit scalds her skin and she knows it'scursed - at her throat and a rabid wolf baring its fangs at her, she realizesshe's cornered.
It doesn't stop her from taking on somebravado - something she picked up after a season traveling with Pike - andscoffing, "Or what?" She tightens her grip on her battle ax.
"Or we take it by force," thewarlock threatens.
"Why do you think I have it withme?" Meklavar wonders. She may have limited mobility, but if she drops herax on his feet...
"You would be foolish enough to let anartifact like the Jewel of Jitan out of your sight?" the warlock says withan incredulous snort.
...she'd still have the wolf to take careof.
Meklavar scowls, hating the way sweat runsdown her face and makes the handle of her battle ax slippery in her hands."Y-you've been tracking me for a while," she guesses, "so surelyyou've noticed I'm not traveling alone."
"And?"
Meklavar bites her lip, guilt making herheart heavy at the same time she hopes Pike is leagues away, but she says, "How do you know I didn't give itto him?"
The warlock laughs, the tone unpleasant."Foolish dwarf," he says, "Haxus can smell the life the Jewelbrings on you."
Meklavar winces but manages to keep it fromher voice when she bluffs, "M-maybe he just smells the dirt. I am a dwarf after—"
Her breath catches in her throat when atree branch overhead shifts.
Not a lick of a breeze, and yet...
The battle ax slips from her fingers theinstant Pike springs from the tree branch and lands on the wolf. It yelps indistress, but that's nothing to the agonized howl that escapes the warlock.
He pushes him off her, his blood alreadysoaking into the soles of her boots, but Meklavar can't savor the triumph whenhis knife scratches her neck.
She gasps, falling to the ground on handsand knees at the burn, her helmet slipping off and rolling away. Her fingerspress against the wound, only to find it dry. "W-what—"
But she pushes her confusion aside, jumpingto her feet and raising her fists, prepared to defend herself and Pike fromwarlock and wolf.
The warlock snarls at her from where hefalls to his knees after a pitiful attempt to get to his feet."Haxus!" he barks, pointing at her.
The wolf growls in acknowledgment, andMeklavar remembers Pike.
The great beast even dwarfs him, but hewraps his arms around its neck in a valiant effort to slow it down.
Her heart jumps into her throat as shewatches, but before she can lurch forward to assist him, Pike embeds a blade inits side. Then his eyes land on Meklavar, widening as his gaze slips down toher neck, and a heartbeat later he lets go of the wolf and sprints towards her.
"Pike—"
His name barely falls from her tonguebefore his arms wrap around her and smoke engulfs them.
Her eyelids pinch shut to keep it fromstinging her eyes, but it scratches at her throat. She bursts into a coughingfit, barely aware of Pike's arms slipping under her knees and around her backbefore a rush of air is ruffling her sweaty hair.
"My h-helmet," she mumbles."My ax—"
"Not important," Pike says."Hold on, Meklavar; I know someone around here that can help you."
Help her?Why does she need—
"I-it's just a cut," she tellshim once she remembers. "B-barely even hurts anymore." She opens hereyes, blinking up at him. "I can walk too, Pike."
"It's faster if I carry you,"Pike says, tone firm.
It doesn't stop Meklavar from arguing,"Pike, I'm—"
"No, you're not!" he shouts,before grimacing and continuing in a more level voice, "Didn't you see hisknife?"
"I—" She had; it burned when ittouched her skin, and when it cut it,she didn't bleed...
She sighs, slumping in his arms - if heinsists on carrying her she may as well enjoy it - and wondering, "Whereare we going?"
"To visit a...friend of mine,"Pike says, gritting his teeth as if it pains him to admit as much. "He hassome experience with cursed knives, so he should be able to help you." Hespeaks lightly, hopefully, but Meklavar can read the concern written all overhis face in a furrowed brow.
(His tail probably twitches like crazy.)
His worry for her, and the way he jumped toher defense, make warmth spread through her. "So it's...bad," shemuses, resting two fingers against the side of her neck. "How bad?"
"I don't know," Pike admits,"but the...corruption's already spreading."
Meklavar's heart stutters in her chest. Corruption was the exact word the eldersused to describe the slow death of the valley after the Jewel of Jitan wasstolen...
"Oh," she mumbles, turning herface to bury it against Pike's chest. "Th-then it'll be slow, won'tit?"
"I'm so sorry, Meklavar," Pikemurmurs, pressing his chin into her hair. "I promise I'll do whatever Ican to help you."
And despite everything - despite his profession - Meklavar believes him.
***
Pike shakes her awake what feels likeseconds after she finally lets her eyes slip shut, and for a long moment shedoesn't know where she is.
None of the stone walls furnished withwoven rugs that decorate her family's home greet her, and her mother's voicedoesn't echo down the hallway, either bidding her brother stay silent becauseMeklavar’sstill sleeping or coming to wake her up for the day ahead.
Homesickness grips her heart and bringstears to her eyes before she can stop them, a sniff escaping her. But warm armsengulf her as soon as she sits up in this warm, soft, unfamiliar bed, and she collapses into Pike, shaking with the firstsob.
"H-have I f-failed?" she wonders,her voice trembling. "I-I—w-what if I d-die before I make it home?"
"You won't," Pike swears, hishold on her tightening until her ear rests over his steadily beating heart."Thunder can help you, and i-it's not even th-that bad yet."
Meklavar freezes, pulling away from him andnoting how he won't look her in the eye. "You're lying," she accuses,although her sniffing offsets the effect.
Pike carefully meets her gaze before hisflits away again, his ears flattening slightly. "I—"
"How bad is it?" she asks,grasping his chin and turning his face back towards her. "Pike, how bad isit?"
Pike's fingers brush her neck, his touchlight.
It's enough to make pain dance over herskin.
Meklavar winces, recoiling from him untilthe pain dissipates into an itch. "What—"
"Thunder doesn't own a mirror," Pikesays with an apologetic smile, "so you can't see how bad it is."
"C-can you?"
He shakes his head, his cheeks coloring ashe says, "The corruption - it looks like bruising but more rotten - reaches under yourcollar."
Meklavar takes a shaky breath as she liftsher collar and peeks under her shirt, and sure enough the sight of bruisinggreets her.
But it's different, somehow, looking moreashy and old than fresh, and as shegingerly feels along them, she finds it stops just under her collar.
It'll spread further before long.
But she doesn't want to talk about that,nor about the weight of her quest still resting on her shoulders. Her eyes flitaround the single small room - there's a kitchen of sorts in one corner, andshe and Pike sit on the only bed - before they come to rest on her armor piledbeside the bed, her belt with the pouch carrying the Jewel of Jitan draped overher breastplate.
For once, Meklavar's fingers don't itch tograsp the Jewel, to make sure it's still with her.
"Where are we?" she asks Pike.
"Thunder's hut in the woods," hesays briefly.
"Where are they?" Meklavar says,glancing towards a closed door. "And what kind of name is Thunder?"
"I think it's a nickname," Pikesays with a grin.
"For what?" She raises aneyebrow. "Thunderstorm?"
Pike grimaces before bursting intolaughter. "Yes," he says, nodding and wiping a tear of mirth from thecorner of his eye. "And he left to...well, I'm not sure actually. Heprobably went off to hunt or meditate or something." He rolls his eyes butsmiles at her. "He's kind of strange."
Meklavar grins despite herself and nudgeshis face away from hers. "You're one to talk, but anyway"—she stands,wobbling on unsteady feet before recovering her balance—"we should getready to leave. There's still a long journey to the valley."
"What?" Pike stares incredulouslyat her as she grabs her belt and wraps it around her waist. "Meklavar,you're—"
"What?" She spins around, angerfilling her so suddenly she wonders if it hasn't been thriving under thesurface for a while, waiting to be unleashed. "Sick? It doesn't matter; Ihave my quest and I have to completeit."
"At least wait till Thunder comes backand checks the corruption first," Pike protests. He stands, reaching forher shoulder, but she jerks away from him.
"So he can tell me what I alreadyknow?" she says, scathing. "No. My time is short as it is, Pike, so Ican't afford to linger. I've already..." She trails off, biting her lipwhile her heart sinks. "I've already dawdled too much with you."
Pike's face falls before his lips twistinto a scowl, his hands resting on his hips. "Is that how it is? We'vejust been dawdling?"
Guilt writhes in Meklavar's stomach at theobvious hurt that crossed his face, but frustration - with him, with hersituation and her condition - stillrules her. "Yes," she bites, "we have. Without you constantly diverting our attention becauseyou just have to steal from somepassing caravan or—"
"So you would've rather been killed bythat warlock?" Pike argues, pointing at her.
"Maybe if it wasn't for you wewouldn't have been so easily tracked by his monster!"
"For me?" Pike glowers at her, his hands curling into fists andtail thrashing behind him. "I'ma master of stealth! You wear armorthat clanks with every step so a deaf babycould track you!"
"It's for protection!"
"A lot of good it did you against awarlock!"
"I dropped my ax on his foot!"Meklavar blurts, waving her arms. "I-I could've handled him!"
And then what? a voice inside her head wonders. You don't know Thunder, don't know anyonethat can help you...and that wolf might've torn you to shreds first.
But there's something else bothering her,something else besides Pike's protectiveness - besides her own distracting feelings towards him -grabbing her attention:
The weight of the Jewel of Jitan - herfamily heirloom, the fate of her valley - hanging from her belt.
"Why aren't you taking it?"Meklavar demands. She unties the pouch and holds it up, waving it and thetreasure within in Pike's face. "W-we could be done with each other, andi-it would be so easy! I-I'mexhausted and weak and dying and I-I trust you!"
An odd silence fills the hut in the wake ofMeklavar's words, a silence only broken by the pounding of her heart.
Did she really just say that she trusted Pike?
His eyes shoot open - she must look just asincredulous - as they meet hers. "Maybe that's not what I wanted to stealfrom you," he says, voice low.
Meklavar's breath catches, something in histone stealing it from her lungs, butshe clears her throat and challenges, "What?"
Pike steps towards her, bridging the gapbetween them, but Meklavar stands her ground. He sets his jaw, but she doesn'tfear him.
It's impossibleto fear someone who makes her heart leap.
It fights to leap through her ribs when hekisses her.
His fingers bury in her sweaty hair,pulling her face closer to his, and Meklavar squeaks in shock and discomfortwhen his nose connects with her eye.
Pike pulls away, letting her go with hisface a livid red and holding up his hands. "I'm sorry! I just—you asked mewhat I wanted to steal from you and that was...one of them!"
Meklavar's jaw drops, her own cheeks likelyas red as his. When she recovers - after they stare at each other for a fewpainfully long seconds - she licks her lips and wonders, "W-what else didyou want to steal from me?"
"Y-your heart," Pike says,smiling almost shyly.
Meklavar thinks her heart may actuallylaunch itself out of her body as a smile pushes at her own lips. "Y-youcan have it," she says, standing on her toes and wrapping her arms aroundhis neck, "but only if you give me yours."
She slots her lips over his, drinking inhis pleased hum as he leans into her, his arms winding around her waist andpulling her against him.
Meklavar buries her fingers in his hair asshe kisses him. He shudders when her fingertips brush his ears, and she grinsinto his lips.
She presses in, eager, and when they partto breathe the sensation of his exhalations falling onto her forehead make hershiver. "Pike," she murmurs, her eyes still pinched shut.
What a perfect moment...
His arms around her squeeze, his nosebumping hers when he turns his head slightly. "Hmm?"
"Kiss me again," she says."Spend all the time I have left kissing me."
"Meklavar..."
She opens her eyes, narrowing them, butwhen she takes in his suddenly sober expression - oh, does she love to see himsmile! - she cups his jaw and flashes him a reassuring grin. "W-whenThunder finds a magic cure," Meklavar says, hoping Pike can't hear thetremor in her voice, "w-we can still do that since, well, cats have ninelives, don't they?"
Pike chuckles, a deep sound that reverberatesthrough his chest and into her body. "If I did, I'd give them to you in aheartbeat."
She smacks his cheek lightly, hating theway her chest aches. "Stop it," she says. "You're going to makeme sad."
"I just..." Pike rests hisforehead against hers, a heavy sigh escaping him. "I've lost a lot ofpeople already; I don't want to lose you too."
"Pike, if I die before I make ithome—"
He shakes his head. "You won’t—"
"Listen, Pike," she insists,grabbing his collar to get his attention, "I'm asking you to...to returnthe Jewel of Jitan to the valley."
"Only with you," Pike saysfirmly, his hand falling onto her shoulder. He mumbles an apology when shewinces - neither of them realized the corruption spread so far - and he adds,"I'm not going there without you."
"You'll have to," she says, a lump lodging itself in her throat."There's no one else I'd trust to do it on my behalf." She bendsdown, reaching into the dropped pouch and plucking out the vibrant green gemthat glows with its own internal light. "Pike, please."
Meklavar holds the Jewel of Jitan out tothe thief she thought for so long would take it. A part of her still chafes atrelinquishing guardianship of the Jewel, but the rest of her - the overwhelmingpart that trusts Pike with her life and with her heart - knows it’s the only way.
Pike doesn't move, his gaze flitting fromthe Jewel to her face and down to her neck.
"Pike," Meklavar says. She takeshis hand and presses the Jewel into it, wrapping his fingers around it."Take it home."
"Meklavar," Pike says, his eyeswide and filled with awe. Before she can ask him what he's looking at, his handsits on her shoulder, his thumb skimming her neck.
Meklavar bites her lip, suppressing ashiver and the urge to lean into the touch...but her eyes fly open when sherealizes that it should not be sopleasant.
She stumbles away from him, tugging on hercollar and peeking down her shirt.
The corruption is gone, her skin underneathpale and unblemished.
"What...?"
"The Jewel," Pike guesses, gleemaking his grin wide. He tosses the Jewel into the air - if Meklavar wasn't sostunned by this development she would smack him - and catches it beforebrandishing it at her. "You can have your quest back, my love."
Meklavar stares from his face to the Jewelsitting in his hand, trying to wrap her head around what just happened...andhim calling her my love."Y-you'll stay with me?" she says.
"Nothing - not even your temper - cankeep me away."
Meklavar lets the slight pass as anoverwhelming relief fills her. Instead she jumps Pike, breathless laughterescaping them both as he catches her against him and stumbles backwards, andsoon her lips capture his again.
And again.
And again.
(It'show a horrified Thunderstorm finds them, with Pike leaning against the wallwhile the same dwarf he carried in, unconscious and dying, kisses himsenseless.)
