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So, that was it. That was how he was going to leave this world. At fingers reach of the round table, hidden from all sighs, only listening to the murmurs of the people passing by through the haze of his brumous mind and the buzzing sound of the fly sticking to him.
Rogier swallowed with difficulty, a trembling hand reaching to rub his eyes. He wasn’t exactly sleepy. It was more like his body was becoming more and more distant from him. But the pain, oh, the pain, was there to remind him that he was in fact still alive, but rooting from the inside and heading to his end. Under the blanket covering his so-called “legs”, the vicious root were slowly growing, twisting his flesh and piercing his bones. Sometimes at night, he could swear he was feeling it moving under his skin.
The blanket was useless to hide the smell, but at least the gruesome vision was spared to any kind soul who would wander away from their path to come and see him. He wasn’t sure if he was himself brave enough to bear such vision. The last time he saw his legs, the roots remembered him of one of these fetishes peoples of Leyndell would do in the memory of their omen children. It wasn’t like their faith was more fortunate. They hadn’t had any choice, cursed by life itself. But him ? He brought this to himself. Curiosity killed the cat, as said the old maxim.
He didn’t remember how he escaped Stormveil. He remembered the rooted smell, the giant face, and the pain hitting his chest.
When he woke up, lying in a bed at the round table, the pain was still there. Someone was… cutting his legs ? At least that was how he had felt it. As he tried to raise up, gauntleted hands had been placating back on the sheet, restraining him from any move. A well-known golden face was in front of him.
The surprise turned to horror as D spoke to him for the first time in a very long time, announcing him with a dull tone that Death Blight had taken possession of his body.
Back then, Rogier had believed for a moment that Darian would simply kill him. Their disagreement on the undead and the Death Root was what split them after all. Contaminated, it was a matter of time before… But instead, he handed him what looked like a battered leather belt.
“Bite it"
Maybe it was the tone used, or the shook of the situation, but Rogier didn’t find the will to throw a joke back then. He only did as asked and bit the piece of leather. After that, it had been vivid pain radiating along his legs and the nasty sound of roots being ripped and cut of. He had hoped that the sound was loud enough to hide his pitiful whimpers.
A rattling brought Rogier back to the present. Grunting, he painfully opened his eyes, the vision of a well knew silver and gold armor filling the part of his view that wasn’t obscured by his hat.
" … D ? "
He was wearing his helmet, hiding any expression he could have arbored. Not like that changed a lot of his usual face.
" I heard you whining "
An embarrassed smile twisted Rogier’s lips.
" Did I? "
" I made you something. For the pain."
He was indeed holding a plate of unappetizing green balls. Rogier fixed it dumbly, before reaching a trembling hand and grabbing one. As he tried to bite it, he could only left a slight tooth mark on the ball, some crumbs falling on his covered knees. He looked at it numbly, not understanding why he was unable of such a simple task.
Without a word, Darian took his helmet off and put it on the floor near his feet, revealing his always so serious expression. Taking the medicine ball back, he bite a small piece of it before bringing it to Rogier mouth. The magician glared to the hand in front of him to Darian face, before opening his mouth and taking the medicine.
The remedy revealed itself still difficult to munch for him. He managed to bite and swallow most of it, but ended up coughing. His throat felt sandy. Some water find its way to his lip, and he drank with gratitude. The situation was really odd, but he couldn’t focus long enough to really think about it.
" That’s really nice of you D but… I don’t think I can… Thank you for doing this "
Darian stood silent a moment, before sitting beside him, the plate of remedies on his lap. Slumped along the wall, Rogier followed his movement groggily, as Darian took the ball to his mouth and started chewing on it. Eyes close, a serious expression on his face, not showing any discomfort at the bitter taste of the remedy.
Rogier blinked, and suddenly Darian face was in front of his, fixing him. His hand grabbed Rogier’s jaw and opened it, before leaning in and putting his lips on his in a sham of a kiss, pushing the mashed remedy into his mouth. For an instant, Rogier remembered the sigh of the giant ants feeding themselves that way. Wasn’t it how human started kissing? Following their example ?
The sour taste of the mixture pushed into his mouth anchored him in the present. It was almost too hot, the taste of Darian’s Saliva clearly perceptible.
In any other situation, Rogier would have been repulsed by the gesture. But here, he only swallowed, easily this time.
Darian was looking at him without a word, another ball in his hand, the interrogation clear enough. Rogier nodded a silent confirmation.
As Darian was closing the distance between them again, another memory hit Rogier. The sigh of 2 scholars of Raya Lucaria, hiding behind a bookcase, kissing between two giggles, their hands intertwined.
As Darian was pushing more remedy into him, Rogier felt painfully remembered of what have been and wasn’t anymore. Their relationship was a thing from the past. But then why was he here with him right now, helping him in such an intimate way ? Hadn’t he been the one here to try to help him when he got back at the round table with the death root in his blood?
Bite by bite, the medicine was finally ingested. When Darian lingered a second long close to his face and leaned in, Rogier opened his mouth compliantly, ready to take another bite, like a cub fed by his mother wolf. Yes, a wolf. That was more fitting to D than an ant.
The feeling of Darian's tongue lingering in his mouth, the man now kissing him slowly, took the magician by surprise. A whimper escaped his throat as he leaned in, instinctively replying to the kiss. He tried to grab at something on Darian chest, but his armor didn’t give him any grip. Instead, his fists ended up holding the blanket on his legs, afraid it would slip and reveal the atrocity it was hiding.
At some point, Darian hand had ended up on this cheek, stroking slowly. He stopped the kiss, allowing both of them to take their breath. Rogier eyes were glassy, unfocused. D pushed him slowly back to the wall.
“Go to sleep, Rogier.”
The magician realized he was indeed feeling sleepy. Very sleepy. He couldn’t feel his leg anymore. He nodded, the ghost of a smile on his lips. As he closed his eyes, his last vision was the face of Darian fixing him, expression indecipherable.
Rogier never woke up.