Another angst trope piece from a prompt from @askshivanulegacy and, ahahaha, the inspiration came from SO VERY LEFT FIELD but I ran with it, here have a fic based entirely on an incredibly specific video game experience.
Needing Help to Drink from a Glass
She’d made a box… of course she’d made a box, she always conjured boxes, it sometimes seemed like the only thing she knew how to do.
She’d made a box to sit at, and another to sit on, and one for him as well, though he was restless, and just wanted to keep moving before the nightmares grew too dark and solid and swallowed them whole.
“I just… I just need a few…”
He half turned and dropped his hood as she spoke, squinting at her over his shoulder. She was shaking, trembling all over, and he had to admit that in all they’d been through, he’d never seen her quite so rattled. Her eyes were wide, pupils like pinpricks, and there were dark shadows under them… but that was fair, sleep didn’t come easy to anyone at the moment, sleep was not a comfort any more, not since the Prince had lost control and flooded the world with terrors from his own sleep.
But what they’d just faced hadn’t come from the Prince. Made tangible through his power, perhaps, but the giant, cackling spectral witch had been Ahuska’s personal torment, a nightmare from her childhood that clearly still crawled under her skin. It had been… unpleasant, for sure. Not just the taunts and tests of the witch herself, but the way Ahuska had cringed and cowered, begged for mercy, for forgiveness, for the chance to once again attempt to prove herself to someone who had so obviously caused her unwarranted distress as a child. Someone who hadn’t been fit to be left alone with someone young and impressionable and helpless.
But they’d beaten her, hadn’t they? They’d beaten the witch and her terrible puzzles of fire and acid, they’d ended the nightmare.
The abandoned woodland shack they’d slipped inside to pause and catch their breath hadn’t had much to offer by way of loot, but Blakk had come across a jug of clean looking streamwater and a drinking glass, which he now settled in front of Ahuska, on her ornate, faintly glowing, magically crafted box.
“Here. Have something to drink, just unwind for a few minutes, and you’ll see we’re fine. I mean we beat her, right? She’s gone now. You finally got the better of her.”
Ahuska stared at the glass with hollow eyes, and then reached for it, fingers outstretched, and he saw with a jolt that her fingertips were bright red and raw, the fur singed. And her hands still shook, her fingers fumbled, and the glass fell free before she could barely get it from the table, toppling and spilling water all over the box that fizzed and crackled with sparks of magical energy. He hadn’t even realised that she’d been burned until that moment… but despite his sudden shock at the state of her Blakk moved deftly. His own quick hands caught up the glass before it rolled away and shattered, and in the same fluid motion he somehow had it full again, setting the jug back down with a soft clink a moment later.
He paused, watching the way she still trembled, the tight little spasms that intermittently wracked her body, and he wondered if during those last few moments of the nightmare trial she’d been getting scalded as they carefully maneuvered the puzzle boxes into place, if somehow the fact that they’d forced things against the way they were supposed to be used had been… hurting her, the whole time. She’d never made a sound. He’d had no idea. With a small shiver of his own, he pushed his little box-seat over beside hers with a foot, settled next to her, and gently lifted the glass to her lips. “Just drink, wozard,” he said softly, with a rare smile as he tried to prompt some levity, which frankly he didn’t really know how to do. “I told you, she’s gone. You won.”
Ahuska drank, a slow, quivering mouthful, and her ears blushed pink with embarrassment and gratitude as she tucked her hands into her sleeves, balling them into tight fists in an effort to ignore the pain. But she couldn’t find it in her to smile back. “No, I didn’t win. I didn’t beat her. That was… th-that was just dumb luck, we didn’t solve anything, w-we just… if you weren’t there, I’d never have been able to wedge that mirror w-where we got it, I’d have just been burned alive, burned alive by my own stupid dream…” her voice broke off with a squeak, but before she had a chance to sob Blakk pushed the glass to her mouth again. This was bad enough as it was; there was no way he’d be able to deal with it if she started crying.
“Shhh. Don’t be stupid. So we fluked it through together, just because we didn’t solve things her way doesn’t mean we didn’t win. Look at us! Here! Out the other side! Having someone with you to help you through is a perfectly valid way to solve a problem…” his voice trailed off and he paused, as the words that spilled out of him for her sake suddenly struck an uncomfortable chord inside him.
With a faint wince, the thief bit his tongue, and offered the young wizard another drink. Then he took up her hands, one at a time, and wrapped them around the cool glass; he held them there until he felt the shuddering subside. Easier to act than to talk. Easier to focus on her, than find himself saying things that made him dwell too much on his own situation.
Slowly her trembling lessened, and something changed in her eyes. She blinked toward him, soft and uncertain, and he swallowed, suddenly needing very badly to… step outside. Okay, so this wasn’t easier at all.
“Keep holding that,” he said. “I think I saw a… a beehive a little way back, a bit of wild honey on those hands will… will do a world of good. Just… just stay here, and I’ll… just… be a moment…”
He backed up, cheeks flushed, turning at the doorway to slip out of the shack and pausing only to throw one last look over his shoulder. He managed another smile, fleeting but genuine, and Ahuska actually managed to smile back when he winked at her and before turning completely deadpan. “Bye.”
Basically just felt like playing around with character design and made up a bunch of Bothans? I’ve never really done the ‘adoptables’ thing but if there’s any interest in any of them I may be willing to let them go (though I am already feeling pretty fond of the Slicer she would need a VERY GOOD HOME), I guess pm if you’re curious?? Honestly these were just a stack of fun and I’ll probably do more some time for the heck of it.
For Valentine’s Day, one for my RL valentine @nutterbutterbox, of our two lovebirds. Jak, my beloved long time tabletop shapeshifting Mando-Shistavanen, and Wylluf, the NPC who first she shot and eventually she married. Love these two forever <3
Okay so I already answered 22 (Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun?), haha, I love that it got asked twice!
Now, for 9? (Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions?)
Crow definitely drives. Whether or not Ahuska ever gives useful directions remains to be seen. (Well, this is assuming they’re in a vehicle and not riding an animal or in a cart or something, in which case AHUSKA HAS THE REINS AND DON’T YOU DARE TRY OTHERWISE.)
For 12 (Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking?), meanwhile… I mean, neither Ahuska nor Crow really seem to turn to alcohol when things get bad. Drinking is definitely more of a celebratory thing, which means more than likely they’re both drinking, which means they’re both going to be feeding off one another and being terrible. Which means they’re going to have to be picked up and tucked in by the rest of the squad, and not each other at all!
