Chapter Text
Dariax knows a few things. He knows how this is going to play out, and he knows exactly how bad it’s going to feel when it does. Still, he knows that he’s never been able to steer his brain off of its one chosen track, so he knows he’s just going to have to ride this one all the way to the end.
He’s head over popping-apple-ass in love with Dorian Storm, even though he *knows* it’s a bad idea.
And look, it’s not like it bothers him too much. He’s just grateful that they survived that purple lady’s attack, that Opal didn’t become an evil spider or something even weirder, that Ted is… alive, or whatever she is exactly. Most of all, he’s grateful that his friends are planning to stick together a while longer. That they still don’t mind having him around. Dorian doesn’t look at Dariax the way he looks at Orym, but there are more important things. Things like healing spells and low fives and a buddy he can count on at his back.
Dariax has been left behind plenty of times. He knows how to appreciate what he’s got.
The campfire is burning low and comforting, just a little ways away from the leveled jungle, scattered with the remnants of the exploded cube and the collapsed dirt monster and the bodies and the blood. All of his friends—the Crown Keepers, which isn’t quite as cool as Dorian Storm and His Blades of Fury, but it’ll do—are lying silently around it. Dariax isn’t sure if they’re asleep or just lost in thought like he is. He isn’t usually one to lie awake, pondering the mysteries of the universe or his own feelings, but tonight the adrenaline won’t leave his veins and the inside of his eyelids looks like Dorian’s body, unmoving on the ground, and he just knows that sleep will bring nightmares.
He shifts carefully so as not to disturb the bard at his back, then scrambles up to sitting, knees drawn up to his chest, staring at the dim embers.
Opal’s eyes catch his. They’re completely black, so he can’t tell exactly where they’re looking, but they’re open and pointed his way, and she sits up too and nods at him from across the fire.
*Bad dreams?*
It’s Opal’s voice, but it’s not coming from Opal’s mouth. Dariax startles, claps a hand over his gasp so he doesn’t shout and wake the ever watchful Orym, looks over his shoulders. Opal’s head tilts and the corner of her mouth quirks up. The firelight glints off her pearlescent hair and the barbs digging into her skull.
*It’s just me.*
He can even hear her laugh echoing into his brain when she says it.
*Uh…* Dariax thinks the words loud and clear. *Opal?*
*Duh, Dariax. You don’t have to shout.*
*I didn’t know you could…* he wiggles his fingers near the side of his head because he can’t remember the right word for whatever Opal is doing. *That’s like, a god thing isn’t it?*
*I guess it’s a power thing, I don’t know.* Opal wiggles her own fingers out in front of her. *I guess I have a lot of that now.*
*Yeah, it’s pretty badass.* Dariax shrugs. *Does it feel… Okay? Weird? Spooky? Wait a second, can you read all of our thoughts all the time??*
Opal’s laugh comes out of her mouth, soft and distant, and also rings between his ears, as close as his own panicked attempts to think of innocent and unembarrassing things—coins and puppies and pies. Definitely nothing about how creepy Opal looks in the flickering shadow, because that’s just rude, and no recollections of their unexpected pageant kiss which was confusing because she’s like a cool little sister to him most of the time (sister, family, safety, home—he wrote it into the weird dirt mound, what she means to him). And no rude questions about the mean spider lady, just in case. Like why did she want a grumpy pink champion so badly and would she ever do anything actually useful like make coins and puppies and pies appear from the sky?
*Actually,* Opal’s voice whispers, *I can totally read your thoughts. You’re thinking about Dorian!*
Dariax startles a second time, panic seeping into his chest as he tries not to think of anything *else* incriminating—except, wait. He hadn’t actually been thinking of Dorian a second ago. It was maybe one of the few times all day he hadn’t.
*Okay, okay, good prank. you almost had me for a minute there.*
Opal laughs again. *Yeah, I don’t know, magic is weird,* she says in his mind. *I can hear you when you’re talking to me and the rest is just, like, buzzing or something. I can kind of get emotions or vibes, though. Like how totally embarrassed you just got when you thought I was spying on your Dorian fantasies.*
Dariax stubbornly doesn’t think any words at Opal, but she laughs anyway. Maybe his vibes are funny, he doesn’t know.
*I’m sorry!* Opal says. *It’s not like you’re very subtle about it though.*
*Yeah, yeah.* Dariax pulls his knees in a little closer, hunches his shoulders a little lower. *Subtle’s not really my style. Anyway, how are you holding up?* He asks this question because it’s important, because they need to keep asking it, and also maybe a little bit because he doesn’t want to buzz sad whiny unrequited love vibes her way when she’s got bigger darker things going on.
*Me? Oh, you know…* Opal tilts her head up to the sky, flicks a spider off her shoulder. *It’s been a lot, the past couple days.*
Dariax winces. It has been a lot, and more for Opal than anyone else. She’s just a kid, still, a kid who left home looking for adventure and found death and fear and pain… he can’t help remembering his own first night curled up in an alley, his first deadly scrabble against a thief with a knife, the first time he was knocked unconscious and left to die by the rest of his allies. He had come through alright, but he never wanted Opal to feel any of that. He should have protected her better, should have healed her better, should have been smarter and faster and…
*Oh, Dariax, you do care.*
He must have been giving off vibes again.
*Course I do. What did you think?*
*No, I know. It’s just… nothing.*
Hmm. Maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe the vibes are starting to work in both directions, because he swears he can feel her little disappointed sigh, and it feels like being dropped to the ground by a bright winged figure who you know has already forgotten you in its singleminded devotion to someone else.
*Ah, sorry.* He thinks sheepishly. *I… I do care. A lot. You’re a great kid, I just…*
*Yeah, you don’t have to—I get it! I get it.* Opal flips her hair. Another spider scuttles into the underbrush. *We’re all hot and bi here, right? Lust triangles happen.*
*Heh, yeah.* Dariax curls around a hollow space in his chest that’s shaped like the trust in Dorian’s eyes when he looked to Orym to decide their next move, like he always does. *They happen.*
Opal picks at something dark crusted under her nails. *You know, you probably didn’t see it, but he did something with Queen Spider Bitch. To save you. Made some kind of deal, even without the circlet. I don’t know what they said exactly, but he was trying to heal you and that elf—* her silent speech cuts off, chokes a little like a slit throat— *that elf bitch was trying to keep you away and then, like, suddenly she had spiders coming out of her mouth and you were moving again.*
Dariax’s heart clenches around this story. He didn’t see much in those frantic moments, just felt the clutching of limbs (before they went limp) and the gentle press of healing magic at the nape of his neck. He might have heard Dorian checking in on him, or mumbling something about his last spell, but it’s blurry. And anyway, it doesn’t change the things he already knows.
*He would’ve done it for any of us. He’s a great friend.*
Opal scoffs out loud, causing Fearne to flop over to her side and Orym’s hand to twitch on his sword. Dariax And Opal both freeze, vibing *shush!* vibes through their telepathic link until their friends settle.
*No, You’re right.* She says finally. *He would. He is. But still.*
*He likes Orym.* Once he’s said it, he feels a little lighter, a little less like his brain is going to collapse from the pressure of determinedly not thinking it. *He obviously likes Orym.*
Why wouldn’t Dorian like Orym? They were both so much steadier than Dariax, natural leaders, naturally graceful, smart and strong and talented. Dariax was just a disaster with a very wide lucky streak (and covered in all sorts of other streaks of dubious origin). He wasn’t deep and mysterious. He was just… boring, and a handful, and the little bit of charm he had would wear off like gilt off a cheap necklace, and soon enough everyone would be sick of him. They would leave him. And he’d be on his own again.
*That’s not going to happen.*
*I thought you couldn’t read my thoughts.*
*You weren’t thinking so loud before. And I didn’t get everything. Just, you know. We won’t.*
Dariax stares at his hands. The flickering light makes it look like spiders are crawling over them, and he shudders. And then, with no more warning than that, Opal is sitting down beside him.
“Wha-!” He clamps his mouth shut as Opal shushes him. *Can you teleport now too?*
*Just stealth I think.* She shrugs, knocking her shoulder against his. *It’s cool though, right?*
*So cool. Do you think Lolth will let me take it for a spin?*
*Sure, I don’t see why not.* She pauses, cocks her head. *Or at least, I don’t think she can stop us from doing it. Not forever.*
*Orym won’t like it.*
*He doesn’t like any of this. Which makes sense honestly.*
*Yeah he might be too well-balanced to hang with the rest of us. But I’m glad he does.*
*Me too.* Opal smiles. *Hey! Maybe you two can hook up! He said your butt was nice!*
Dariax laughs, face heating up. *Uh, yeah, no, I don’t know. I tend to get kinda stuck on one person at a time. So that probably won’t work. But you know, it’s cool. I’m used to it; I think I can ride it out. Dorian’s a lot nicer than… well he’s definitely not the worst I’ve ever picked.*
*Tharla Star?*
*Tharla was okay! She never did anything bad to me. Just didn’t know I existed, but that’s not her fault. No, she was cool. Dorian’s even cooler.*
*Hmm…* Opal flicks a spider off her wrist and into the fire, which makes Dariax jump. *You know you deserve better than just “not actively hurting you” right?*
They sit in silence. Dariax isn’t sure why Opal ended up being the one comforting him; he feels like this is another failure of his, somehow.
*Don’t go back to worrying about me,* she pleads gently. *It’s nice to just talk about normal things.*
He tries very hard to contain his worries vibes.
*Okay! How about this, then?* Opal perks up again with the new idea. *I can keep practicing my telepathy, and then I can read Dorian’s mind, and then I can find out if he likes you!*
*Oh, wh—no, you definitely don’t have to do that.* Dariax frowns and chews his bottom lip. *That doesn’t seem, you know, right.*
*Ugh, fine, I guess. Well you should ask him yourself. I think there’s a good chance he’s interested, and just hasn’t totally figured it out yet.*
Dariax doesn’t know if he believes that at all.
“You two okay?”
Orym’s whisper makes them both jolt, and then giggle in relief.
“Fine,” Opal whispers. “Just going back to sleep.”
“You sure? Opal, you’re feeling… good? I have… sword.” Orym’s voice is slurred with sleep but no less solemn than usual. Dariax covers a chuckle.
“Positive.” Opal sneaks—slipping silent as a spider—back to Fearne’s side of the fire, sliding into her spot next to the faun. “Night everyone.”
Dariax feels the sudden absence in his mind, the abrupt lack of foreign vibes. He misses Opal a little, but it’s nice to be back to normal. He waits another second or two before throwing himself back onto the ground, turning out of habit so his back faces Dorian’s.
And then Dorian shifts. Wiggles closer so that they press together, back-to-back in truth and not just orientation.
“Dariax?” Dorian mumbles. There’s a sleep-covered question there, but Dariax doesn’t know if it’s ‘is that you?’ Or ‘everything alright?’ Or ‘is Orym safe?’
“Yeah, buddy,” he answers all the imagined questions at once, reaching a hand over his head and toussling a fistful of soft hair. “Go back to sleep.”
Dorian gives a contented sigh that pulls at Dariax’s heartstrings like he’s a lute in the bard’s skilled hands. “She didn’t take you,” he murmurs. “Can’t. Mine.”
And look, Dariax is still pretty sure he knows how this is going to go, knows the kind of person he is and the kind of person Dorian should end up with and the world of difference between them.
But he’ll also be the first to admit that he doesn’t know everything.