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Caduceus
It’s all so much. So much blood and so many broken bodies.
He really doesn’t like it at all.
There’s blood in his eyes and in his mouth. And he’s so tired.
Fjord’s alright, stabilised and not bleeding-out at least, his insides on the inside. So’s Beau. She’s in one piece, she’s alright. And everyone else will be too, as Jester runs around checking on them all, asking who needs more healing. She’s nearly spent though.
Caduceus is so tired. His head is heavy.
He told her he’d get to his own injuries, that he’d be fine, before crawling into the hut with Fjord and Beau. He didn’t lie, not really, because he’d begun to heal himself. He’d fixed his broken wrist. But then Fjord’s arm needed to be grown back together, the splintered bone and shredded muscle set in place. He needed the gaping hole in his abdomen closed. Both things were far more urgent than the blood getting in Caduceus’ eyes.
He blinks as little flecks of light dance across his vision like when the stars fall across the night sky, except more lively. Except these stars make his head hurt.
So he lies down next to Fjord, in the grass and watches the alpine wildflowers that surround them turn to ghostly little silhouettes as the first glow of dawn appears on the horizon. They shake in the breeze, little heads nodding, stems dancing.
His knee, the one that always dully aches (despite the ivy brace he’d fashioned for it), is screaming, pain shooting through it. The rest of his joints hurt too, but not nearly as bad. Must be from all the running, all the jumping out the way. His body aches all over and he feels cold and hot at the same time but can’t figure out why.
He breathes a shaky sigh and tries to go to sleep.
He’s so tired.
As he begins to slip he remembers his staff, how he dropped it somewhere just outside the hut, and how Belle gave him all those bugs in a jar. He misses Belle. He loves her very much.
☾
Fjord
Light flickers across his eyelids, stirring him from sleep. His mouth is desert-dry and tastes of iron, of blood.
There were giants. A-fucking-lot of giants.
They woke us, wouldn’t leave the hut alone.
His ribs sting. His arm crackles with pain as he moves, pins and needles race from his shoulder to his fingertips, like he’s slept on it. He clenches and unclenches his fist.
They’re all in the hut, the Nein snoring and shifting around him. Slowly he turns his head to one side and bumps it on Beau’s elbow. He turns the other way and—
Oh. Oh no. That can’t be good.
Fjord find Jester and shakes her awake. “Jess. Jester,” he whispers.
“Wwha— What is it, Fjord?” She sits up and rubs her eyes.
“Caduceus is— He needs a lot of healing. Now.”
Jester is up and stepping over Yasha, kneeling besides Fjord before he can say anything else. She gasps, voice shaky. “Oh. Oh Gods.”
Caduceus is barely hanging on, unconscious. His breathing is shallow and the horrible gash across his forehead is black with half dried blood, weeping, and dark and so deep and—
Fjord stumbles out the hut to vomit, doubling over onto his hands and knees. He heaves into the cold, dewy grass, ribs burning.
When he returns Jester has one hand pressed over the gash and the other on Caduceus’ chest, reciting a spell quietly. Her hair lifts slightly, swirling around her jaw as her magic pulls Caduceus from the edge, stitching him back together. Fjord sits by her as they watch the life return to him, his nose scrunching first, sniffing. Then his eyebrows knit as he grimaces and gasps a full breath.
“Duces?” Fjord whispers gently.
He reaches for Caduceus’ shoulder and presses just a little more healing magic into him. It’s all that he can manage.
“Mmf.” Caduces shifts beneath his palm. “Ah. I— Ow.”
Jester leans over him. “You were hurt so bad, Caduceus,” she says, face getting blotchy. “I thought— you said you’d heal yourself— You should’ve told me. I could have healed you too.”
“It…wasn’t that bad,” Caduceus mumbles.
Jester nearly cries right then, and Fjord swallows a lump in his throat. Carefully, Jester reaches out to ghost her fingers over the fresh, thick scar that curves over Caduceus’ forehead and cuts into his hairline, where it’s trimmed short. He’s bruised across his face, shades of purple and pale maroon harsh against his fine fur and near-translucent skin.
“It was really bad, Ducey,” Fjord says.
Jester tucks a blood-matted strand of hair behind Caduceus' ear, nodding. “You had a hole in your head and like, broken bones and stuff,” she says, and wipes her eyes with the backs of her blood-smeared hands.
Caduceus looks confused, squinting in the dawn light. Half his face is covered with half-dry blood, matted into his fur. Fjord swallows thickly.
“I don’t remember that,” he says eventually. “I don’t…Fjord, your arm was a mess. In pieces. Sorry, you don’t want to know that.”
“So you healed me,” says Fjord, a little taken aback. That explains the odd feeling, the pins and needles. “Like we’re supposed to do. Heal each other.”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t heal…yourself?”
“I was tired,” Caduceus replies, voice strained and barely there. “And you needed…You needed help. So did Beau and… Jester, is everyone else alright?”
“Yes. Yes.” Jester wipes her eyes, presses her lips together. “I’m so sorry I didn’t heal you too, Caduceus. I didn’t know.”
“Mh. That’s quite alright,” Caduceus says, offering a tired smile. “You didn’t know.” He blinks slowly, like he’s falling asleep.
“Well, you should have told me. You should have let me heal you first. We were all so fucked up. I couldn’t see how— how bad everything was. With you, I mean.”
Caduceus reaches up for Jester’s hand. “It’s alright.”
Jester takes his hand in both of hers. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Caddy.”
Fjord finishes the thought, but doesn’t say it. I’m so glad you’re okay…because you could’ve died while we slept. All alone.
Fjord rubs his eyes, tries to rub away the heat behind them.
“What’s going on?” a half-asleep Beau mumbles. She props herself up onto her elbows, peering from behind Jester.
“Oh. Sorry, Beau. Just…healing.” replies Jester. She yawns. “We should all get some extra sleep.”
Once everyone’s tucked back into bedrolls and under blankets, dozing off, Fjord pulls his water-skin from his pack and offers it to Caduceus. He’s laying on his side, unmoving, only his eyelashes fluttering as he watches a moth crawl along the edge of his coat. Oh, he’s still wearing his armour. That can’t be comfortable. Fjord doesn’t remember taking off his own armour, but it’s lying besides him and he’s only fully dressed from the waist down, wearing just his undershirt with his trousers and boots. Caduceus must’ve taken it off whilst healing him. And maybe to help him sleep better.
“Do you want me to help take your armour off?” Fjord asks quietly.
Caduceus slowly blinks and looks up at him. He nods. “Sure.”
Fjord sets the water-skin aside, helping Caduceus undress to his trousers and shirt, the collar stained from where blood dripped off his chin and down his neck. Fjord kicks off his own boots when he’s done.
What happened? he wants to ask. And Why didn’t you heal yourself first?
He doesn’t ask though, because it feels intrusive. Most of the questions he has for Caduceus do.
Instead he offers the water-skin again, and helps to hold it as Caduceus takes a few short sips before handing it back. Fjord drinks long and slow, trying to wash all the mingling horrid tastes from his mouth.
“You should get some rest,” Caduceus whispers.
Fjord lies down, facing him. “I could say the same to you.”
Caduceus laughs quietly, in a light, breathless kind of way.
He closes his eyes first and Fjord waits till his breathing settles, closing his eyes too.