And if I say Cleric Will thinking Paladin Mik* has come to save him, only for the torch lights to reveal that it's actually Rogue Chance that has come to his aid?
He doesn't trust him at first, but as they escape from the dungeon of Vecna's Castle, they realize how well they complement each other while fighting, creating a dance of violence, desire, and yearning that Will hasn't felt in a long time.
Initially, Chance thinks Will needs to be saved or only knows healing/protection spells. But as he sees the way Will decimates their enemies alongside him, he realizes how much he yearned for someone to be at his side, not only protecting him but fighting with him as an equal
And Will feels it too. The way Chance, after seconds, trusts deeply in his power. He is not sidelined or babied in the fight. This man knew him for a hot second and already decided he is not only worth saving, but he is worthy enough to fight alongside.
Snippet of the RogueWise AU I'm writing (cut for length)
The dungeon of Vecna's Castle smelled like rot, and the cold air of the night rattled Will's bones, making his body ache. If it weren't for the separated sleeves of his tunic, the iron shackles around his wrists that had him chained to the wall would be hurting even more. His connection to magic was dulled by the iron, and he felt like a part of him was gone.
The cold of the winter night rubbed against his uncovered shoulders. Usually, the weather wouldn't be a problem, but with his power gone, he was unable to heat himself. And his tunic clearly wasn't made for winter. He still remembered Vecna's words, and he would rather die than become a slave.
He looked at the guard who was patrolling his cell, thinking of ways he could lure him in and use his legs to neutralize him. The cutouts at the side of his tunic were designed for such cases where he needed the mobility, and the leather pants would protect him from the metal of the knight's armor. At the end, it wouldn't really help him; the guard didn't have the keys to free him, and the retaliation would be worse.
Before he could keep thinking, his pointy ears moved when he heard a grunt and the clash of metal. Someone had killed the guard, grabbing the key to the cell. As the man approached, he couldn't help but think that finally Michael had come to rescue him after days of praying. But when the torch near the entrance illuminated the man's face, he was shocked to see the person the fire revealed.
"In the name of the Goddess, Chance! What the hell are you doing here?"
As the man opened the door, making a face at the loud sound of metal that surrounded the dungeon's hallway, he answered.
"Glad to see you, too, angel. I gather that imprisonment has nothing on your wits."
He was trying to use the same key to open the shackles. Will huffed and rolled his eyes, saying something in that language Chance couldn't understand.
"You are the last person I expected here. And stop trying with that dammed key, the guard holding the one for the chains is not here."
"Fuck, I didn't really want to use the sword. It will alert the guards."
"Do it, We'll handle then later."
"You mean I will handle them. Your can't use your powers."
"You think way too highly of yourself. Shut up and release me quickly before more guards come our way"
"Your wishes are my command, angel." Chance said as the metal of his sword clashed with the iron of the chains."
"Thank you," Will said, rising to his feet. They exited the cell and started walking down the long and tight hallway.
"Was that really so hard to say? Thank you, Sir Chance, you were my only hope," he said smugly, putting the sword away on his belt and clashing his shoulder with Will's.
"Bold words for someone who's no longer a Knight. There is no coin in this world that would make me call you Sir."
Before they could keep talking, another guard saw then in the hallway and charged towards them, they had little time to react.
"Behind me, angel. I'm not letting him touch you." Chance said as he quickly grabbed his katambit knives. He still had his sword, but in such a close space, the karambits allowed him to fight faster.
Before he could charge and meet his opponent, Will started to run towards him. It was so fast that Chance almost didn't see it, but Will took the weird gem that was on the back of his tunic, covered by the velvet hood now. He had seen it before, an unusual gem that now, he realizes, looks closest to the handle of a sword.
And as the cleric started to lift the handle with his right hand, a sword started to come out of his back like an act of magic. As Will ran, he effortlessly launched the sword to his left hand, the blade pointed at Chance as he got closer to the guard.
While the guard aimed the sword high, Will fell to his knees and, with the impulse of the run, slid on the floor, while his blade cut the back of the man's leg. With a quick movement, he made a turn while he was still sliding, launching the sword with his right hand, cutting the other Knight's leg.
As the man fell to his knees, he jumped to his feet, grabbed the man by the hair, and slitting his throat. With the fall of the body, he locked eyes with the rogue, lifting one of his eyebrows.
"I hope you didn't expect me to rely on magic to defend myself. It would be a shame for you to think of me as a damsel in distress only 'cause my powers are not working at the moment."
Chance was shocked, to say the least, if only a little aroused by the display of the cleric. He wet his lips as he tried to snap out of the trance.
"Not at all, Angel. Not at all. But I thought that the iron didn't allow you to use any magic."
"The sword is enchanted separately, disguised so my enemies do not expect it. The iron works on me, not on the weapon."
Chance was amazed by it. It was no longer than his sword, longer than a dagger, and looked like it didn't weigh much. The violet stone fit perfectly with the gold of the handle, and it was shaped like a half moon.
"Do you want me to explain to you the specifics of how it came to be? Or would you rather we leave this place?" asked Will, half smiling, the rogue's blush didn't pass without him noticing it.
Together, they started walking towards freedom, knowing that the fight was still not over. The dungeon, much like Vecna's labyrinth, was designed for you to lose yourself in the corridors, but they both had a plan.
Started writing the RogueWise fic, but I perished in the hands of Merthur. I've been reading Hiraeth, and it's so fucking long, 500k words of angsty slowburn that I didn't know I needed
If this fic doesn't have a fucking happy ending, I'm killing the person who recommended it. First warning.
Soooo, medieval underwear looks fucking awful. You guys are going to have to use suspension of disbelief and pretend that Chance going commando in fucking leather pants while fighting wouldn't be the most uncomfortable thing ever
