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The heavy, cold rain meant that visitors were scarce to the Jericho Inn. Simon had a pot roast with some root vegetables for the few guests, and Rook had shyly offered to help. ...And while his kitchen knowledge was clearly lacking, he was willing to follow directions and had a combination of spices to recommend that Simon hadn’t tried before. They ended up eating at the end of the counter while they waited for the guests to leave, talking and laughing quietly.
“I can’t even imagine being afraid of you now,” Simon confessed, smiling fondly.
“You should have been,” Rook murmured, leaning in closer. “I noticed that as well, you... were entirely trusting. I could have killed you a million times, and you invited me into your empty inn, made me breakfast, carried me up the stairs...”
“I never carried you up the stairs, I’m not that strong,” Simon laughed, shaking his head.
“Nearly,” Rook said. He paused. “You are far stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Simon reached over and ran his fingers lightly over Rook’s knuckles. Rook’s face softened.
“I... I’m glad I never did,” he whispered, dipping his head a little. “I... well obviously, but... I think of it... perhaps more than I should.”
“But you didn’t, because you’re a good person,” Simon said, giving his hand a soft squeeze. “You didn’t want to hurt someone without a reason. ...You didn’t even enjoy it with a reason.”
“It was never about... what I wanted, what I enjoyed,” Rook mumbled. “It was how I was... raised. Second nature.”
Simon leaned in and cupped his face in both hands. “It’s not your nature, though. It’s... what you were conditioned to do, against your nature. You’re a good person. And I’ve never been wrong for trusting you.”
They cleaned up and went to bed a little earlier than usual that night, and drifted off to sleep to the sound of the rain on the roof.
Rook stood in the upstairs hall, facing Simon in the dark. He knew, there was no more lying low in the comfortable inn, no more being fed and cared for and kept warm. No more stories and games and soft comeraderie. No turning back.
As Simon opened his mouth, the Reaver struck with blinding speed. Lightning crackled from him, flowing from his chest down to his hands, leaping across to Simon. The innkeeper gave a strangled cry and fell to the floor. This was wrong, he didn’t want to do this, he hadn’t meant to hurt Simon, but the lightning continued to spark around him, making him convulse on the worn floorboards. It caught on the splinters, on the threadbare rug, on the little table with its candles, and grew into flames.
“R-Rook!” Simon croaked, reaching for him jerkily. It was wrong, he had never wanted... he hadn’t even meant to attack... The Reaver backed away as the inn burst into flames around him. He didn’t feel them licking at his legs, didn’t feel his lungs filling with smoke as he howled his grief and horror, didn’t feel the intense heat as he beat on the flames. And somehow he never stopped staring at Simon, whose eyes had gone flat and lifeless, still reaching for him -
Rook shot up in bed with a gasp, chest tight, tangled in blankets that he struggled to throw off. There were no flames, no smoke, no blistering heat. He was... alone in his room. The inn was quiet, except for the rain outside. He took a shuddering breath and held it, trying to listen for Simon’s breathing across the wall... but it wasn’t there. All he could hear was his own thudding heartbeat speeding up, his own trembling...
He pulled himself up and staggered out into the hall, then over to Simon’s room. He paused before pounding on the door and then throwing it open -
“Rook?” Simon sat up in bed, blinking sleep from his eyes, hair tousled. “What’s wrong?”
The former battlemage stared at him, healthy, alive, not burned or electrocuted. Not hurting or begging for mercy or asking why...
“Rook.” Simon threw back his blankets and swung out of bed, quickly padding across the room to take his trembling hand. “What is it?”
Rook heaved a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m... sorry.” He should let Simon sleep, there was nothing wrong, no danger to face.
“Did you have a nightmare?” Simon asked softly, reaching up to run a hand over his cheek.
Rook nodded briefly. “It was nothing,” he breathed. “I apologize... for...”
Simon took both his hands and pulled him into the room, and he could only stumble after him. They sat on the edge of Simon’s bed, and Simon wrapped them both in a blanket and kept one arm around him, the other hand still holding his hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Rook quickly shook his head.
“Okay,” Simon murmured, reaching up to gently tip Rook’s head towards his so he could press his forehead to it. “Take a deep breath. You’re safe here. I’ve got you, and I won’t leave you alone.”
Rook took a ragged breath still shaking.
“That’s it, keep breathing. Why don’t you stay here with me for a while?”
He gulped and shook his head. “Y-you... need your sleep,” he whispered.
“How could I sleep when you’re so upset? I’d much rather sit with you.”
“You... shouldn’t have to...”
“And I don’t,” Simon agreed in a low voice, looking up to softly kiss Rook’s temple. “But I want to. And I’m going to.”
Rook sniffled in an undignified manner that would have earned him a sharp glare a year ago, then he shifted to hug Simon tightly. Very - he quickly eased his grip so it wasn’t uncomfortable. But he buried his face in Simon’s shoulder, leaning their heads together.
“It’s all right,” Simon murmured, returning the embrace immediately. “I’ve got you. You’re home, you’re safe, I’m right here.”
A shuddering sob wracked Rook’s powerful frame.
“Keep breathing. You’re doing fine. Let it out, I’ll hold you together for whatever you need to do.”
Open displays of emotions had been frowned upon all his life, but here in Simon’s bedroom he poured out his terror and sorrow. And Simon held him, murmuring comforting words and just sitting with him. Never telling him to leave, never demanding he stop overreacting, never telling him to stop. And so it was a long time before he did, and it left him exhausted and empty, but... Simon was here, alive and safe.
Simon gently blotted away the last of his tears on a soft flannel sleeve and smoothed his hair back.
“Again, I’m... I’m sorry,” Rook mumbled, unable to meet Simon’s eyes.
“No, no need to be sorry!” Simon assured him immediately. “I’m here for you. Always. I promise.”
Rook looked up a little more sharply than he intended. Simon was looking back with that single-minded determination he knew so well, and it made his heart twist inside him.
“I... you shouldn’t... promise things so easily,” he muttered. “I’m... I feel like you’ve never taken... how dangerous I am seriously.”
“I absolutely have,” Simon argued. “But you make the choice to use that... potential for better things.”
“I didn’t,” Rook blurted out. “I... attacked you in the hall, that night of the attack when you learned who I was, and I couldn’t stop it, and everything caught fire, it was all burning down, I couldn’t feel anything -”
Simon took Rook’s trembling hand and squeezed it, then brought it up to kiss his knuckles one by one. “You wouldn’t do any of that.”
“You’ve always been so sure, but I... I could have! I almost did!”
“But you didn’t,” Simon repeated softly.
“You shouldn’t trust me so easily.”
“I’ve always believed that people treat you the way you treat them... and that’s served me well over the years. I helped you, and you kept me safe in return. You’ve always repaid my trust with trust. ...And would you hurt me now? For any reason?” Simon looked up at him with his bright blue eyes.
“No!” Rook exclaimed, horrified.
Simon smiled. “I know. So it’s a moot point, isn’t it?”
“I... I guess...”
“I understand why you’re so worried about it, though. I’ve had dreams like that, of hurting people I care for.”
Rook swallowed thickly. Simon ruffled his hair.
“You’re going to be all right,” Simon whispered. “I promise. And so am I.”
Rook shivered and pressed closer for a moment. “Thank you. I - I do feel much better.”
“Good.”
“I do hope you manage to get enough sleep, though. I’ll return to my -”
Simon held onto him firmly as he tried to get up, and took both his hands. “Stay.”
“...What?”
“Stay with me tonight. You - I don’t want you to be alone right now.”
“I - your bed...”
“It’s big enough for you.” Simon gently rubbed circles into his side. “Please?”
“I... if you... want me...”
“I do.” Simon smiled softly in the faint moonlight. “And I’ll be right here with you.”
Rook exhaled again, slower this time, and let himself relax into Simon. He was quiet for a long while before whispering a fervent, “Thank you.”
It took them both a while to fall asleep, but when they did it was even softer and more peaceful than anything else either had ever known. Maybe, they both found themselves thinking, they’d have to find more excuses to sleep like this...