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Over the years, Sanson had come to realize that the worst part about being a Twin Adder captain wasn’t the mountains of paperwork, the long hours, or even the uncooperative higher ups. No, the hardest part of his job was when one of his men was injured in the course of duty and he was helpless to do anything to aid them.
He felt that helplessness most acutely when stood at Guydelot’s bedside, watching his bard roll his head back and forth on his pillow while moaning softly. What should have been a routine patrol through the Central Shroud had ended with Guydelot incapacitated after they had been descended upon by a group of poachers. They had managed to beat back their assailants rather easily, but not before a stray arrow had struck a nearby mushroom patch and kicked up the fungi’s spores. Sanson had watched in horror as Guydelot had coughed through the spore cloud and then, quite suddenly, dropped unconscious to the ground.
With the help of his other two bards, they had carried Guydelot back to Gridania and into the care of Brother E-Sumi-Yan. Sanson had managed to keep his professional facade the whole time, running on adrenaline as he had barked orders at his recruits. But he could feel the panic beginning to fray at his nerves as he watched the Padjal slowly examine Guydelot’s unconscious body.
“Is he going to be okay?” Sanson finally blurted out, unable to wait any longer.
“Hm? Oh yes, he should be fine,” Brother E-Sumi replied, glancing up at him. “It seems like the fungi he encountered are relatively harmless. We actually use this very specimen as part of a concoction to induce a deep sleep for our more serious procedures. He should be waking up shortly though.”
“Oh, thank the Matron,” Sanson said, raising his hand to his heart in relief. “But, um…why is he moaning so much?”
Brother E-Sumi looked down just as Guydelot groaned again. “The slumber should be painless, no different than falling asleep at night. I suspect he’s just being dramatic.”
“That…sounds about right, actually,” Sanson said after a moment, exasperated but relieved.
“He’ll probably be a bit confused when he comes to,” Brother E-Sumi continued. “I’m sure it would do him well to see a friendly face at his bedside when he awakens.”
Sanson had no intention of leaving but he nodded to the Padjal all the same, taking the empty seat by Guydelot’s bed. Brother E-Sumi smiled softly at him and headed off to treat his next patient. Sanson watched Guydelot as moved his head back and forth, a fond warmness spreading through his heart as the bard mumbled to himself. When Guydelot was fully conscious, Sanson had every intention of chewing him out for worrying him like that. But for now, he just felt relief knowing his beloved bard was safe.
A few minutes passed before Guydelot’s eyelashes started to flutter open, his eyes glassy and disoriented. Sanson sprung up from his seat and peered down at his face, watching attentively as Guydelot moaned again.
“You’re okay, Guydelot,” Sanson said softly. “You’re in Nophica’s Altar. You’re just waking up now.”
Guydelot turned his head slightly to lock eyes with his, staring up at him in something akin to awe. Sanson smiled at him, gently taking his hand.
“The chirugeons looked you over and said you’re going to be okay,” Sanson continued. “The toxins from those mushrooms should be wearing off now.”
Guydelot blinked at him slowly and said, “Did…did the Matron send you?”
Sanson furrowed his brow at that, looking at the bard in confusion. “What?” he asked.
A dopey smile spread across Guydelot’s face. “Man…your face would put all the Gods to shame,” he slurred, lifting his hand to give Sanson an ‘ok’ sign with his fingers. “Wow…prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”
Sanson’s eyebrows shot up and he could feel his cheeks turning red. “Um,” he stammered, not sure how to respond. Guydelot closed his eyes again and then slowly opened them, squinting at Sanson.
“Are you a model?” he asked.
“No!” Sanson squeaked in reply, feeling his cheeks go even redder. He spotted a plate of biscuits on the bedside table and lunged to grab one, shoving it into Guydelot’s hand. “Here, eat this. Some food in your belly should help you wake up.”
Guydelot took the biscuit but didn’t eat it, still staring at Sanson’s face. “Who are you?” he demanded. “What’s your name?”
Brother E-Sumi had said he would be confused but Sanson hadn’t expected him to not remember his name. He huffed a little bit as he said, “I’m Sanson. I’m your captain in the Twin Adder.”
“Sanson,” Guydelot grinned. “It’s pretty. Like you.”
At this rate, the blush would never leave Sanson’s cheeks. He nudged Gudyelot’s hand and said, “Stop trying to charm me and eat your biscuit.”
Guydelot brought the biscuit to his mouth but lowered it before taking a bite. “Do you have a boyfriend, Sanson?” he asked.
Sanson stared hard at him, trying to figure out if Guydelot was joking with him or not. He looked sincere though, eyes still hazy from sleep, so Sanson carefully said, “Yes…”
“Oh,” Guydelot replied, his face crumbling. Sanson’s mouth fell open as he realized the other man’s eyes were filling with tears. “I see…that’s unfortunate.”
“Guydelot,” Sanson said in disbelief. He glanced around, making sure everyone else in the hospital ward was preoccupied, then said in a low voice, “ You are my boyfriend.”
“I’m your boyfriend?” Guydelot shouted, dropping his biscuit. “By the Matron’s fat teats–”
“Guydelot!” Sanson hissed, praying that none of the Padjals had heard him.
“Oh my gods!” Guydelot swore loudly, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. “I’m his boyfriend!”
Sanson snatched another biscuit from the bedside table. “Eat this,” he ordered, holding it up to Guydelot’s face.
“How long?” Guydelot asked as he took the biscuit from him. He eyed Sanson for a moment and then asked, “Have we kissed yet?”
Somehow, Sanson could feel himself flushing even harder. The answer was yes, many times in fact, but he wasn’t going to admit that when he could feel people starting to watch them. “Just eat your biscuit,” he said instead, crossing his arms.
“Oh, baby, I’m trying,” Guydelot moaned, lifting the biscuit up but still not taking a bite of it. “But it’s hard baby, it’s hard when I can’t stop looking at ya. Do we call each other baby?”
Despite himself, Sanson could feel a smile growing on his red cheeks. Being the object of Guydelot’s charms in a public setting was embarrassing but it was also…surprisingly nice how openly affectionate he was being. Guydelot rolled his head to look at Sanson again, his biscuit abandoned on his chest.
“Have we…you know,” Guydelot asked, trying to waggled his eyebrows in what he must have thought was a seductive way. Sanson couldn’t help but laugh finally, looking away from his ridiculous bard.
The answer was, again, a resounding yes. But instead of answering Guydelot’s question, Sanson just smiled at him and said, “You are too much sometimes.”
Guydelot turned so he was looking up at the ceiling again, throwing an arm over his eyes. “By the Matron, I’ve hit the bloody jackpot,” he moaned to no one in particular. “Most beautiful man I’ve ever seen .”
Sanson wasn’t sure about that, since he was certain his face was permanently red at this point. He pressed his hands into his warm cheeks as he stared down at the wood floor, shaking his head slightly. Guydelot's hand appeared in his line of vision, gently brushing against his hip.
“Hey, look at me,” he said. “Lemme see your face.”
Sanson couldn’t stop grinning as he lifted his head to meet Guydelot’s gaze. Guydelot’s eyes roved over his face, taking in his features with awed wonderment. “Wow…” he said after a moment. “Your nose is perfect.”
Sanson snorted. No one had ever complimented his nose before.
“And your lips are so lovely,” Guydelot continued, the dopey smile back. “I want to kiss them.”
“Maybe later,” Sanson said with a smile. “When you’re not loopy on mushroom spores.”
“Fair,” Guydelot slurred, pointing a finger at him. His eyes trailed down Sanson’s body and his grin got even bigger. “Turn around.”
“No!” Sanson said.
“I just wanna peek.”
“Not right now,” Sanson said, shaking his head despite the smile on his face. “Now please. Eat your biscuit.”
Guydelot picked up his abandoned biscuit and finally took a nibble out of it. “We’re dating?” he said more to himself than to Sanson. “Wow…”
“Yes, we’re dating,” Sanson replied softly. “Though I’d thank you to not shout it across the whole hospital.”
Guydelot eyed him for a moment and then pointed towards Sanson’s chest, saying, “Did I give that to you?”
He was pointing at a beautiful turquoise necklace hanging from around Sanson’s neck. He usually kept it tucked beneath his uniform for safekeeping but it must have slipped free at some point during the commotion. Sanson reached a hand up to clutch at the stone, his smile going soft.
“Yes,” he said gently. “Yes, you did.”
A gift, though it felt more like a promise, placed lovingly around his neck one sunny afternoon while in their favorite secluded glade in the East Shroud. A token of both Guydelot’s love and devotion, the bard had proclaimed. A symbol of how Sanson had claimed his heart. If this whole episode had shown Sanson anything, it was that Guydelot had truly meant every word he’d said that day.
“Man,” Guydelot said, closing his eyes as he took another bite of his biscuit. He had a warm smile on his face. “I must have been really likin’ you.”
Sanson blew his bangs out of his face and let go of the necklace. He smiled at Guydelot and said, “Well, I’m glad I had nothing to worry about at any rate. Clearly, you’re feeling just fine.”
Guydelot giggled and blew him a kiss. Sanson rolled his eyes but was still smiling as he turned away. He froze though as he spotted one of his newer recruits standing nervously near the end of the bed with a tomato red face, looking like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Uh, sir!” the bard stammered, snapping into a serpent salute. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt sir! Commander Heuloix asked me to get an update on the situation.”
Sanson’s face burned bright red again. “I’ll be along to report to the Commander shortly,” he replied. “But for now, you can tell him that Guydelot is just fine.”
His young recruit nodded and scurried away, leaving Sanson alone with a giggling Guydelot. He plopped back into the seat by Guydelot’s bed, resting his cheek against his fist and thinking about the report he would have to write about this. Guydelot turned to grin at him, his biscuit finally gone, and Sanson couldn’t help but smile back. He was definitely going to have to leave more than a few things he didn’t want to share out of this report, but he figured that in this particular case, a little omission was probably okay.