Summary: Dorian and Ashton are recovering from their ordeal, and Ashton gets pulled into the infamous Fearne-Dorian-Orym Cuddle Pile.
The sprawling manor bedroom was dark, the lamps turned low. Lord Eshteross had opened his home to them, again, after Ashton and Dorian's abduction, and the older orc was starting to act like this could be a permanent arrangement. After all, their little group seemed to be making enemies left and right these days.
Orym sat on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, watching his genasi friends sleep. Dorian was closest to him, nearly touching Orym's leg, his long hair braided into a single plait and tied with a bright blue bow at the end. Ashton was backed up against him facing the other way, like he still didn't trust that they were safe yet. Fearne had tried to braid his hair, too, but had been stymied by the earth genasi's crystalline locks, so she'd settled with tucking small flowers and bits of colorful cloth into his hair.
“Mmm...Orym?” Dorian's weak voice caught his attention, breaking him out of darker thoughts.
“Hey,” he leaned over his friend, resting one hand on Dorian's shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
Dorian looked up at him blearily, his gaze taking in the darkened space around them. “Where...where are we?”
“Uh, Lord Eshteross's place. It seemed safest after...well, you know.”
“Right.” Dorian shifted a little, craned his neck to see Ashton sleeping behind him, and let out a long sigh. “When did...how, how long has it been.”
“Since we rescued you, probably about eight hours.” Orym looked down at his hands, suddenly unable to meet Dorian's eyes. “Five days since you went missing.”
They were silent for a few moments, then Dorian put a hand on Orym's knee. “It's not your fault.”
“I should have been there,” he shook his head.
“You can't be with all of us all the time,” Dorian argued quietly. “They would have taken you, too—or worse.”
Orym just shook his head again. He knew Dorian had a point, but it still hurt.
“How's Ashton?”
“He's gonna be okay,” Orym replied, glancing over at the other genasi. Ashton had made it as far as the rendezvous with the ladies and FCG before collapsing to the pavement alongside Dorian,. As far as they'd been able to tell, both genasi just needed to rest after their ordeal. There was only so much healing potions or spells could do.
“Hey,” Dorian was struggling to sit up, so Orym quickly helped him arrange the blankets and pillows. “It's not your fault.”
“Yeah...feels like it is.”
“Oh, Orym,” Dorian hooked an arm around Orym's shoulders to pull him in close. Orym let himself be tugged against his friend, but didn't return the embrace. “I'm just glad the rest of you were all right.”
“Do you want to get some more sleep?” Orym asked after a few moments.
“Not sure I could. I don't like thinking I'm back in...that place.”
“Want me to call Fearne?”
Dorian hesitated. They'd gotten used to huddling together to sleep, due to their time on the road. Even now, when he'd been recovering from the drugs Malvolio had injected him with, he'd unconsciously pressed himself up against Ashton for security. “Do you...do you think Ashton would mind?”
“Fuck, if it shuts the two of you up, I'll take it,” Ashton complained from his side of the bed.
Orym chuckled, and gave Dorian a reassuring pat on the shoulder before climbing off the bed to stick his head out the door. Fearne was just outside, taking a turn as guard on Dorian and Ashton's room (probably unnecessary, as they were in Eshteross's house, but they were all a little jumpy now).
“Oh, of course!” Fearne beamed down at him when he explained and sauntered into the room. “Hello, Dorian. I'm glad you woke up, at least for a little while.”
“Hi, Fearne.” With a tired waved, Dorian started to scoot toward Ashton.
“Oh, no, that's not right,” Fearn complained. She climbed up the foot of the bed and worked her way into the middle, pushing Ashton and Dorian apart enough so that she fit between them. Then, lying on her back, she tucked an arm around each of the genasi and snuggled down into the pillows with a contented sigh. “Now I know both of you are safe.”
Ashton squirmed around with a groan, kicked one foot out from under the blanket, and wrapped both of his arms around Fearne's. “Gods, you people are weird.”
“I'm sorry,” Dorian began as he slowly shuffled back down to lie under the blankets, tucked up against Fearne's side.
“Didn't say I didn't like it.” Ashton's voice was muffled, either by sleep or by Fearne's arm. “But don't get used to this.”
“Right, of course,” the air genasi laughed. “Orym?”
There was just enough space beside Dorian for a halfling, if they were all willing to squeeze in together. Orym wasn't really ready for sleep, but he climbed into the bed anyway. They all deserved a little closeness after everything they'd been through.
The room fell quiet, Dorian's breathing evened out as he fell asleep, and Fearne gave a deep sigh and stared up at the ceiling.
“Are you trying to pick my pocket?”
Orym smiled at Ashton's semi-indignant voice, and his smile only grew at Fearne's reply.
“I just wanted to see what you had, I wasn't gonna take anything.”
The room was silent for a moment. “All right, go for it. Fuck, these pants are so old even I don't know what's in them.”
“Oh! What's this? An engagement ring?”
Ashton snorted. “If it is, it ain't mine.”
“Well. I was lying anyway. I'm pretty sure it's a Werthers.”
