Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The weather close to the border of Garlemald and the Burn was unpredictable in the winter months. Unlike southern deserts, the Burn was cold with its north ringed by the Knowing Sea and the tundra.

The only break here was the Saren Plains which sat between the Burn and Garlemald and a forest full of pines and hardy trees to the north.

Here, an almost long forgotten ruin sat that, for once, was not Allagan.

Older or newer, Gaius had no way of knowing. That had never been his strength even as the young Elezen—no more than a boy and far too young for this kind of business poked around in the ruins.

Had Gaius been asked, Alphinaud would still be at home—where ever that was—and away from the affairs of old soldiers and war.

But no one had asked him.

And so he was here.

Involved.

Children had no place on a battlefield but there were too few who listened to that. Gaius, once, had to accept this as the age in the Empire had always similarly, and alarmingly, set the age at which a young person could join their armies too low as well. The best he could do was let the ‘children’ play at soldiers as far away from a real battlefield as he could place them and fill their time with camping and fishing, and learning how to camp without getting themselves sick in the process.

A shiver traveled up his spine for the third time in the same hour and he moved himself a bit closer to the fire, letting another part of him dry.

Earlier that day, they had risked a crossing across a rain-slick gorge in the forest. While Severa, Valdeaulin, and even Alphinaud had made it across with no trouble, Gaius had not been so lucky.

Or his footing not as sure.

In either case, he had slipped on a moss-caked rock into a shallow creek.

The chill had been bracing, and with nothing to change into he had been forced to continue his march with the others soaked to his chest and up to his left shoulder—which still smarted from the slide—and half caked in mud as to wash himself off would have meant bathing in a half-frozen stream and being completely soaked head to toe.

Alphinaud and Valdeaulin had returned from gathering more wood, and he caught the white-haired Elezen’s measuring stare head-on. “You’re shivering,” said Severa, her attention drawn to him thanks to Alphinaud’s stare.

“I will be fine,” he answered, clearing his throat as the rough edge to his voice was more hoarse than he had expected.

“You don’t sound fine,” said Severa.

“I must say I agree with her,” said Alphinaud, and Gaius tried to ignore the shiver again. “And that is more than a simple shiver. Have we blankets?”

This last wasn’t pointed at Gaius.

“We do,” said Severa, digging into her pack. “But the grouch probably won’t strip down with us watching.”

“I am not…” Gaius began and was taken by surprise by a sudden, and loud, sneeze, and then another one as he fought to regain his breath. “Dammit all to the seven hells.”

“That’s it, you, strip out of those wet clothes now,” ordered Severa as she brought over two blankets. “We’ll clean the mud out as much as we can and you wrap yourself up in these.”

Gaius grumbled but got up and did as she asked, stripping down to the driest layer below his clothing. Thankfully, those were dry. The cold air chilled his skin and he was thankful for the warmth of the blankets he now was wrapped in. A bruise was already forming on his ribs and upper arm and the bandages were soaked through so he had little choice but to take them off as well. With everything from his boots, socks, and clothing, surrendered to Severa he was acutely aware of how vulnerable he now was.
He also noted that in a hastily, but well supported and sheltered, lean-to between the trees thick padding of bedding made of rushes and branches to keep him from the cold ground had been set up and he let himself be pushed into the shelter.
Now sheltered, the chill wind cut almost immediately the warmth of the fire, and the blankets finally settled in and he sighed his relief as the shivering subsided.

What replaced it was profound exhaustion.

Gaius was content to watch them scurry around the camp as he drank whatever was in the cup Severa handed him, the hot tea soothing his throat.

His eyes drifted closed, and he barely felt someone taking the empty cup from him or encouraging him to lie down on the bedding in the lean-to, still wrapped up in his blankets. With how tired he was, and being warm again, the pallet made of rushes and branches felt as luxurious as sleeping in the Imperial Palace on a down mattress.

Severa took the cup from Gaius’s limp hand, helping him lie down in the process. He was barely awake but at least now the shivering had stopped. She laid the back of her hand across his brow, frowning as she did. Just as I thought, she sighed. “Valdeaulin, can you and Alphinaud find other branches and wood for a fire and perhaps something to make our camp a little more long term?”

Valdeaulin looked over at her. “I suppose if you think this is a safe place for a camp.”

“It will have to be,” she said. “Gaius has a fever. I knew we should have made him strip down then and there when he fell… now he’s caught a chill and he’s sick with a fever.”

“He is ill?” asked Alphinaud. “If we have to, can we move him?”

Severa shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “But with how fast his strength left him, I don’t think we’d be able to get him to walk for long. The ruins are a good shelter and we can hide the light and the smoke from a fire easily enough. And pushing him to find a town or another encampment will only weaken him further. He needs rest, and he needs to rest now. If we camp here for a few days, perhaps he will bounce back and then we can move on.”

Alphinaud knelt by the older Garlean, feeling the man’s forehead as he did. He was more surprised with the way he and Severa had touched him that Gaius didn’t flicker so much as an eyelash. But, with how warm Gaius felt under his hand, Alphinaud was not surprised. “Dammit, I don’t think he’ll be down for just a few days. I don’t like the way this is taking him down or how warm he is,” said Alphinaud, and he looked up at the both of them. “Know you if there are any willow trees in that forest?”

“I may have seen one,” said Valdeaulin. “Why?”

“Can you harvest the bark off a few of those trees? With it, I can make a tea that will help bring down his fever and relieve any discomfort,” said Alphinaud. “Also pine needles—it’s an old remedy that will soothe a sore throat. Make sure they are the short and dark green kind. Have we any ginger?”

“Some, from that trip through Reunion we sometimes make,” said Valdeaulin, and he wrinkled his nose. “If you’re going to feed him what I think you’re going to feed him, he’s probably going to prefer being sick.”

“Not if we sweeten it with maple or birch sap,” said Alphinaud and he looked at the forest. “Which I think both grows plentiful there. Now, go, I will do what I can with what we already have but the quicker we can start getting those into him the faster he can move on his own.”

Gaius woke up a few hours later, wrinkling his nose as the smell of fish and game being cooked over the fire reached his nose. For a long moment, he lay quietly in the bundle of blankets under the lean-to, trying to will his leaden limbs into moving. “You’re awake!” exclaimed Severa.

Alphinaud moved over to him, and he was more than a bit alarmed when it took Valdeaulin to help him sit up. “Are you hungry?” asked Alphinaud.

“I could eat,” admitted Gaius, his eyes widening at the raspy whisper his voice had turned into. “What…?”

“Don’t strain your throat more than you have to,” said Alphinaud, handing him a cup. “Here, we made a broth. If you’re still up to it, we will bring you a skewer of meat and greens.”

“I am not that hungry,” said Gaius, sipping the broth and letting the warmth of it seep into his very being.

It felt like it was. Each sip warmed him comfortably, even as he felt hot and cold in turns. Gaius paused, taking stock of how he felt.

Hot and cold. Chills, likely a fever. Sore throat, no voice, so tired and weak that he needed help to move had he felt like it. The sneezes from earlier and now the long sleep in the daytime as his adventuring partners set up a camp that looked long-term because even they had noticed he wasn’t up to his full strength.

“Dammit it all to the seven hells,” he muttered again as he stared into the cup.

He should have taken the time to clean up, and strip to even his smalls to wrap himself in blankets from the first moment he fell into that icy creek. Found and made camp on the other side of it then and there at the very first clearing they could find.

But he had not.

They had marched for a full day after that in what was the late fall where it was known to be cold and unforgiving.

He knew better.

Nothing for it now, he thought as he stared into the cup. I’m sick, and I will be for at least a fortnight.

“I have a tea we made that will help with the aches and the fever,” said Alphinaud. “We managed to get some of it into you earlier, but I suspect you will have to take it for a few more days to help get rid of the fever quicker.”

“I would be glad of that,” admitted Gaius, setting his cup aside to lay back down in his pallet again, yawning as he did so. “Perhaps later.”

That was his second mistake in as many days.

Chapter Text

The next day, Alphinaud woke to garbled shouted commands and the sight of Valdeaulin holding Gaius down on his pallet. “What is the matter?” asked Alphinaud, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he came over.

Gaius’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, even though they were open. Another mumble and shout came from the stricken and ill Garlean, and the attempt to shove Valdeaulin from him. Too weak from his fever, and still far too ill, Gaius was unable to shift the fully grown Elezen from where he had pinned him down. “His fever spiked,” said Valdeaulin. “He’s completely delirious now.”

“I can help,” said Alphinaud, summoning his Carbuncle and murmuring a few magic laced words over the Garlean.

Gaius relaxed into his pallet, his eyes closing as the sleep induced by Repose took effect.

“There, he should sleep for a while,” said Alphinaud, letting the healing magic infuse the now peacefully asleep man. “There isn’t much I can do for a fever with magic, but at least I can make him comfortable. Severa, can you boil some water and make that willow tea?”

“Will we need more of it?” asked Valdeaulin.

“I suspect that we will,” said Alphinaud. “He is more ill than I thought. Perhaps even more than he thought. This worries me. Even should his fever break and he recovers quickly from the main illness, he will be plagued by weakness and tiredness for weeks. Is there someplace safe where we can take him that is not so far into the wilderness? A town? Village?”

Severa shook her head. “Not within Garlemald or the Empire. We would have to risk a trip back through the Burn and to the Steppe. The Xaela there would not turn us out of Reunion, but as you know that is a trip of many, many days through the desert. He would not make the trip.”

“Perhaps another Resistance encampment?” asked Alphinaud.

“That is our only chance,” said Valdeaulin, with a shrug. “If you are determined that we need to be at another encampment. I am confident in our abilities to hunt and fish here, and with plenty of willow trees and other resources… not to mention sturdy stone structures and an equally settled camp of our own where he can recover in peace and privacy. He is a very private man. He wouldn’t appreciate others seeing him like this. Bad enough we are.”

Alphinaud sighed but relented. “Fair enough. Then we shall have to clean out one of those old stone structures and make out of it a house. The stone will keep out the wind but we will still have to use the wood and the rushes for insulation to keep out the cold. However, with a fire and those other things we can keep the rain and wind out and that will do much to make him—and us—far more comfortable.”

Severa and Valdeaulin left Alphinaud alone then, silently agreeing that they should set up this new camp. It was not far from their current and Alphinaud could see them moving about in the ruin. Alphinaud laid a cold compress on Gaius’s forehead, who only

sighed as he leaned into Alphinaud’s hand and his eyes opened a mere sliver. “Shh,” soothed Alphinaud. “Just rest. Go back to sleep.”

Gaius looked up at Alphinaud, eyes glassy with fever. For a moment there was something that could have been defiance, but the fever sapped his strength, and what little fever-addled focus had been in those eyes faded into a glassy blank stare into nothing with only slow blinks to break this up. Gaius, for now, seemed content to let Alphinaud mop his forehead and face.

“Cid?” came the strangely clear, if low, rasp.

Alphinaud froze, realizing why Gaius was quiet with him and not Valdeaulin.

Alphinaud wasn’t sure whether he should correct him, and risk another fever-addled attempt at escape, or let Gaius continue to think he was Cid in his confusion.

In the end, he settled for neither. “Go back to sleep, Gaius, it’s late.”

“M’sorry,” mumbled Gaius. “M’sorry… couldn’t… protect him. Couldn’t stop him…”

“Shh, shh,” soothed Alphinaud. “It’s okay. Please, just rest.”

There was the slightest of moisture on the man’s cheeks and Alphinaud wiped it away as he realized what it was.

Tears.

Alphinaud, from the briefest moment on the Enterprise just before the fight with Garuda (and the revelation by this man of Ultima Weapon, no less) had heard enough to know that Gaius had raised Cid after Cid lost his father. Something had happened between the two.

And now, in the middle of a fever, thanks to his white hair like that of Cid’s Gaius now mistook him for Cid and the other side of that clearly had taken its own emotional toll on Gaius as well. Alphinaud summoned Carbuncle and murmured words again. 

Gaius slipped back down into sleep again induced by magic in between one breath and the next.

He felt terrible at shutting Gaius down like that, but he had no idea what else to do. The sleep would do him well, though, so Alphinaud refused to feel guilt over knocking the older man out cold before he could be drawn into whatever it was he had started.

Valdeaulin was at his elbow. “I thought I heard him talking.”

“Naught but fever dreams,” said Alphinaud.

“We’re ready to move him into our new abode,” said Valdeaulin. “Severa even managed to make a cot so he won’t have to sleep on the floor. She’s making us all cots so none of us do.”

Valdeaulin lifted Gaius, grunting a bit from his weight but eventually, he slowly moved into the stone dwelling and laid the tall Garlean in the cot. It was slightly wider than Gaius’s shoulders and enough that his arms would dangle over the sides while he slept. He and Alphinaud then arranged the blankets, sleep roll, and padding under and over the man until Gaius relaxed into his new bed.

“There, all comfortable,” said Valdeaulin. “More so that we’ve been living with for months.”

Alphinaud relaxed then, as the makeshift door closed and the wind immediately fell to nothing within the walls. While there was no actual roof, Severa and Valdeaulin had used the same source of saplings and branches, as well as a tent laid out flat and then covered with more branches and covering, to make a roof. They had even gone so far as to make the roof have a raised middle so if it rained it would not pool above them.

“We should be snug and comfortable here,” said Valdeaulin. “We checked and we have managed to hide any hint of light from the fire at night and we believe we have managed to baffle the smoke enough for it not to be seen for miles in the day. We also made sure we had plenty of willow bark and those pine needles. Severa also found something she calls Trapper’s Tea, which is apparently a good source of something that will stave off scurvy. Doesn’t taste too bad either. Needs a bit of milk or sugar for proper tea, but it has potential.”

“Between that and the game, and the wild grasses and greens for rice and barley, we should be reasonably comfortable enough to let him rest and recover for however long he needs,” she said. “It may be a bit spartan, but we won’t starve and we won’t freeze.”

“More than comfortable enough,” said Alphinaud. “Thank you both for your efforts. I will do my best to help him recover quickly, but that depends on him as well.”

“It’s getting close to winter anyway and these ruins were once a city,” said Valdeaulin. “The resistance may head this way, at which point we will have already met them here. Either way, as Severa said, if we harvest enough we can last through the winter. Thankfully, the snows never get that deep here. How is he?”

Alphinaud shook his head. “He woke briefly before you carried him in here but was delirious and confused. I helped him along into sleep again before he could strain himself.”

“Should we get some of that willow tea into him?” asked Valdeaulin.

“I should think so,” said Alphinaud as he took one more glance at the sleeping Gaius, and knelt down.

An hour later he had dried and ground the willow bark into a thick, syrupy infusion with boiled birch sap he could easily pour down Gaius’s throat when he needed to, as well as prepped enough of the bark into bits that would make for regular tea when Gaius was conscious enough to drink it.

Valdeaulin helped Gaius into a sitting position and Alphinaud put the first vial to Gaius’s lips, tilting it until the syrup poured slowly onto the man’s tongue. The sweet taste of the birch made Gaius swallow, licking his lips. They did this a few more times until the small vial was emptied. Alphinaud held up a warm cup of broth to Gaius’s lips, letting him wake up enough to sip the cup as Alphinaud held it.

Exhausted from this much, he and Valdeaulin gently laid Gaius back down onto his cot and into his blankets again and Gaius fell back to sleep.

“He’s really sick,” said Severa, compressing her lips. “I suspect this is going to be a long few days.”

“We’ll take turns with him,” said Valdeaulin. “If he tries to take a wander, I fully expect any one of us to tie him to that cot. I don’t think he’s strong enough right now in his state to get away from even the thinnest of ties, but we should keep a close eye on him anyway.”

Chapter Text

Days passed.

Gaius’s fever would spike, and then drop. The first day, he had been stubborn and almost strong enough to try to escape them, but Alphinaud—milking the confusion and the misconception of being Cid—had always managed to keep him calm enough to let them help him back to bed and sleep again.

It was on the fourth day, when they were all exhausted from trying to bring the fever down, and break it—and keep Gaius from wandering off in his delirium—that finally, it happened.

Alphinaud was deeply asleep and having the best sleep since this started, perhaps in his life, when he was shaken awake. “There’s something wrong with him,” said Severa, her voice tight with fear.

There was no need to ask which him she meant.

Alphinaud jumped out of his bedroll and off his own cot, running over to Gaius’s, and he stared down.

Gaius was soaked head to toe in a sweat, and Valdeaulin was trying to wipe him down. “What happened?” asked Alphinaud.

“He was sleeping and then rolled over, and suddenly he was just soaked with sweat,” he answered.

Alphinaud felt Gaius’s forehead and breathed a sigh of relief. “His fever broke,” said Alphinaud. “He’s going to be just fine, but we should wipe him down and dry him off… and get him some fresh bedding if we can spare it.”

The three of them lifted and then carried Gaius to a spot by the fireplace where they laid him on a bearskin.

Not one of them flinched over Gaius’s state of undress. After a fortnight of caring for the man, including feeding, cleaning, and trying desperately to break his fever, seeing him laid out on the animal skin in front of the fire was now normal to them.
When they had changed out his bedding for a fresh set of blankets and furs, they lifted him back onto the cot and left him to rest.

“Do you think when he wakes up, he’ll actually know it’s us this time?” asked Severa.

In his confusion, Gaius had called them everything under the sun. Alphinaud, due to his white hair, had always been mistaken for Cid, but who Severa and Valdeaulin were changed depending on what memory or dream Gaius had found himself half in and half out of. Sometimes he had recognized Valdeaulin, but had then asked for Nero or Livia.

Rhitahtyn… this one had been like a knife to Alphinaud’s heart. Of all of them, even when confused for Cid, Gaius had asked repeatedly for the Roegadyn Tribunus when Valdeaulin was in view.

And then Midas in a small voice, one that was pleading, each time Alphinaud had come into view.

More so for Midas.

When he wasn’t confused, he would fall into a deep sleep where each breath was labor where the heat of his fever would radiate from him.

Alphinaud nodded. “I think he should. I don’t know if he will remember anything, so it would be best not to mention it. Not right away.”

Gaius slept peacefully that night—not the fever heavy sleep but restful sleep. The sun would have been almost directly overhead with the morning fully gone. Severa was taking her turn at cooking lunch when they heard a shuffle from the cot. “Where am I?” asked a raspy voice.

“First, what’s his name?” asked Severa, pointing at Alphinaud.

Gaius, his brows crinkling in puzzlement, answered, “Alphinaud. And before you ask, your name is Severa, and… when he’s here… we have a third named Valdeaulin. Why?”

“How are you feeling?” asked Alphinaud, sitting by his cot.

“I’ve been better.”

“I imagine so,” said Alphinaud. “How much do you remember of the past fortnight?”

“Fortnight?” asked Gaius, his pale amber eyes opening fully. “I—has it been a fortnight? I do not remember much. Bits and pieces. My last clear memory is falling asleep by the fire at a camp. Where are we?”

“In the ruins by that camp,” answered Severa. “We couldn’t go far—not with you like this.”

“I apologize for changing our plans so utterly and completely,” said Gaius, and he yawned into the back of his hand. “But I fear I may cause them to be delayed even further.”

“It’s fine,” said Alphinaud, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Rest, we will wake you when there is food and tea ready. When you have eaten it, you should rest again. We can talk later when you are stronger.”

Gaius made a noise not unlike a harumph but did as he was bid. His eyes closed, and he fell back into the same restful sleep as before. “How long do you think he will be like this?” asked Severa.

“A few days at least,” said Alphinaud. “But now, at least, he is on the mend.”

Alphinaud was not wrong, but neither was he right. While Gaius continued to regain his strength, it took him many days until they were able to break camp and continue on their way. Even still, they could not travel as far or as long without Gaius tiring and needing to rest again. It made for slow progress, but at the same time, they were able to make it to the city of Landis, which sat on the mountain chain standing between the Nam-Yensa Sandsea and the Burn, and the plains they had traveled through. In the city, after making contact with their Resistance brethren, Gaius laid himself in a bed and fell asleep again in the late afternoon. 

Alphinaud shared a room with him, and it wasn’t until later that evening that Gaius woke.

Alphinaud and he sat at the table as Gaius ate. Alphinaud could almost sense that the man had something to say but waited him out. “I am told you never left my bedside and it was your willow tea that likely saved my life, and broke the fever. My thanks.”
Alphinaud shook his head. “I couldn’t leave you to suffer, not after…”

The two fell silent, with Gaius slowly eating the stew cooked by the cook in the tavern. “I am also told that in the depths of my delirium that it was you who managed to keep me calm and in my cot. I cannot think of how, but I have… fragmented memories. Dreams—of my sons and even of Cid.”

“You thought I was Cid,” answered Alphinaud, filing away the other bit of information Gaius had let slip for later. “Many times. While I did not encourage the error, neither did I deny it. You rested better for the mistaken identity and it was easier than tying you to the bed.”

Gaius’s eyebrows rose as he paused in eating. “Oh?”

“I will not pry, and I will not share what I heard. Fever dreams are just that. You need not explain them or remember them. I will not—they are private to you and I will respect that.”

“I feel I must thank you again.”

Alphinaud was about to answer, but he clutched at his head. The voice filled it, and his vision darkened. “Alphinaud?” asked Gaius, standing.

The vision took him again and away from Gaius.

Throw wide the gates…

Alphinaud sucked in a breath as the sensation left as soon as it had come. He found himself in the reverse situation with Gaius holding him, and the older man’s worried face filling his view. “Are you well?” asked Gaius. “Perhaps it is you that now needs rest. Mine own illness has exhausted you—I am sorry.”

Alphinaud shook his head but winced at the sudden pain. “I do not think it related,” he answered finally. “But perhaps we should rest earlier tonight. That… left me with quite a headache.”

“Very well,” answered Gaius as he opened the door and left the dishes, now dirty and empty from eating their meal, just outside the door.

He closed the door and locked it, heading to his own bed. Alphinaud lay in the bed across the room from Gaius. The way his head felt, he would have thought that he would fall asleep faster, but Gaius sighed and then his breathing evened out in slumber almost seconds after his head hit his pillow. What a fine pair we make, thought Alphinaud. To both be ill at the same time…

Days later he woke up in the First.