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The initial crack of thunder had been enough to wake Iorveth, but the steady drone of the rain and the following cracks of thunder had been more than enough to relax him. He was just about to drop off back to sleep when he felt his blanket yank off of him.
Slowly he opened his eye to find Vernon Roche, professional blanket thief and former terror to non-humans everywhere wrapped up in his and now Iorveth’s half of the blanket.
Iorveth went to tug it back from him, Roche would usually have fallen back asleep and Iorveth could get his half of the blankets easily, but this time when he tugged he felt Roche shift and grab onto the bit of blanket for dear life.
He was hiding.
“Vernon?”
No response. Iorveth scooted closer and went to tug the bit of blanket covering up Vernon’s head. And was again met with resistance. Iorveth yanked harder, and Roche let go of the blanket.
It was too dark for Iorveth to know for sure. But he was fairly sure Vernon’s face was streaked with tears, and pink with embarrassment.
Iorveth tugged on the huddled mass of blankets and Vernon acquiesced, letting Iorveth under the covers with him.
“Don’t like the rain en’ca minne?” Iorveth had taken to carding his fingers through Vernon’s curly brown locks.
“No.” He responded back quietly.
Iorveth hadn’t pressed any further, but Roche must have been still feeling particularly anxious, because after a couple of minutes of silence, just as Iorveth was about to drop off to sleep, he kept talking.
“I know it’s odd, everyone’s always talking about how relaxing they find storms to be.”
“Mhmm, yeah, I think they are.”
“I just don’t like being cold, or wet. And they always remind me of it.”
“But, you’re warm and dry right now. If you’re cold, I could go and throw another log into the fireplace?”
Most of the time talking Vernon through things and offering him solutions was enough to get his mind off of things.
He shifted closer to Iorveth, resting his face in the crook of his neck.
“No, I know I’m okay right now. It’s just, I remember when I was younger, I would always hate when it rained because the roofs of the flats my mom and I would live in were never very good, and they would always leak. And it would stay cold and damp for days afterwards.”
Iorveth kept rubbing his fingers through Roche’s curls, he so seldom talked about his childhood, even though Iorveth could tell that he was still deeply affected by it.
“And my mom would always try to get things dried out as quickly as she could. But you know, that’s hard to do when the entire flat is wet?”
“I imagine it is.”
Vernon sighed. “I guess it’s hard to forget. When I was a soldier, I’d usually just take the night watch when it was storming. So that I wouldn’t have to sleep. But what am I supposed to do now?”
At that moment a loud boom of thunder cracked across the sky, Vernon whimpered.
“Well you’re here, and you’re warm and you’re dry. I think that’s a good start.”
“Iorv, I woke you up because I was afraid of a thunderstorm. I -“
Iorveth cut him off.
“Vernon, you’re allowed to be afraid of things. Are you bothered when I’m afraid of things, even when they’re little things?”
“No.” Vernon’s voice was quiet.
“So why wouldn’t you?”
Vernon was silent.
Roche’s breathing had steadied out, and his body had relaxed. Iorveth was fairly certain that his exhaustion had won out over his anxiety and he’d finally fallen asleep regardless of the rain.
Iorveth hoped that Vernon would eventually feel safe enough to be afraid of things with him, but this was a baby step into the right direction.