Chapter Text
He was floating.
The sensation was an odd one. He’d spent a lot of time in the air, but not a lot of time actively floating. It was kind of making him nauseous. .
At least he wasn’t in pain anymore.
Wait…he wasn’t in pain? His limbs felt heavy and there was a line of heat running down his side, and another point of heat resting on his ribs. But the hurt that had been a constant companion was gone.
Orym slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times to get them to focus.
“Well! Smiley day, Orym! It’s good to see you awake!”
Orym turned his head and was immediately greeted by the sight of Fresh Cut Grass.
“Hey, Grass,” Orym said, voice raspy.
“How’re you feelin’?” FCG asked.
“Am I floating?” Orym asked. “I feel like I’m floating.”
“You are securely anchored to a bed in Lord Eshteross’ manor,” FCG said. “You’ve been unconscious for about a day.”
“Oh good,” Orym said, as his brain went into a bit of a tailspin. The last thing he remembered was being cradled by Ashton, as the earth genasi yelled at deities.
“Hey, Letters,” Ashton’s groggy voice said, startling Orym out of his thoughts. Their weight shifted more upright on the bed behind him. “Why don’t you go tell the others Orym’s awake? You did promise you’d let Fearne know as soon as he woke up.”
“Ash?” Orym asked, turning his head in the direction of Ashton’s voice.
His partner was laying on their side pressed against him and propped up on one elbow, a gentle hand resting against his ribs. That hand moved to rest over his heart, and Orym moved his own hand to rest on top of Ashton’s.
“Good idea! I think she was helping Laudna and Imogen make soup!” FCG said. “Give a shout if you need anything!”
The automaton rolled out of the room.
Ashton collapsed back on the bed. “Fuck.” he whispered.
“You ‘kay?” Orym asked.
“Shit. Yeah. Fine. You’re the one who got the shit beat out of him,” Ashton said, slowly sliding their hand out from under Orym’s and sitting fully upright. “How ya doin’? Ya thirsty?”
“Kind of?” Orym said. He was a little thrown off by the change of conversation, but Ashton was clearly agitated. It would be best to let them settle and then see what he could get out of them.
Too bad his normal methods of persuasion were out of the question at the moment.
The genasi rolled off the other side of the bed and quickly hurried back to Orym’s side.
“Let’s get you sitting up a little,” Ashton said, helping their partner lean against a pile of pillows before turning toward the nightstand. “Imogen made you tea, I think it’s ginger. And Fearne did something weird with magic to keep the whole thing warm.”
“Well, that’ll help with the nausea,” Orym said as he took the mug, trying not to sound awkward and failing miserably.
The silence stretched for a few moments before Ashton let out a heavy sigh and collapsed on the floor next to Orym’s head. “Fuck, murder man.” they whispered, “You scared the shit out of me.”
Orym shifted the mug to one hand and reached out to rest his free hand on Ashton’s neck. The earth genasi leaned into the touch, causing them to make eye contact.
“When you passed out, I couldn’t find a pulse. I thought you were dead. And, I tried to be angry. I wanted to be angry. But it wasn’t there. I couldn’t feel anything.
“I’m so sorry,” Orym whispered. He knew the pain and fear of not knowing if the person you loved was dead or alive. He never wanted Ashton to experience that.
“Fuck. No. Don’t apologize,” Ashton said. “It’s not your fault some shithead with a grudge has decided to come after us.”
“Do we know who grabbed me?” Orym asked. “Or why?”
“Fucker used a third party. Hired some mercs to do their dirty work. Just…maybe take someone with you the next time you decide to go fight over lettuce?” Ashton asked. “I think we’re all going to avoid going out alone for now.”
Orym chuckled. “Your idea of what goes on at the market is more exciting than what actually happens. So does this mean you’ll get out of bed early and go with me?”
“Absolutely,” Ashton said, almost before Orym finished his sentence. “If you want me there, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“I always want you with me, Ash,” Orym said softly.
Ashton looked down, cheeks darkening.
Orym tugged at Ashton’s vest. “Come on. You look exhausted. Up.”
Ashton pressed a kiss to the inside of the halfling’s wrist before standing up and making their way back to their place on the bed. Carefully they cuddled against Oyrm’s legs, resting their forehead against his hip. In a matter of minutes, their breathing evened out and they fell asleep.
Orym sipped his tea, eyes growing heavy. He’d wanted to wait up to see Fearne, but sleep was demanding his attention.
Five more minutes. He could give Fearne five minutes, and finish his tea in the meantime.
And now, the only thing that would cause him to lose track of time was sleep.