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Dorian woke to restless movement beside him.
He was tempted to push his brother away, but it was cold, and he was feeling indulgent and too close to sleep to protest, so he stayed limp and hoped his brother would stop moving before he fully woke up.
Wind rattled the windows, and thunder rumbled outside. Rain beat down against the roof of the inn room they were all crowded into, so loud it was almost enough to drown out the thunder.
His brother shifted again, and Dorian's heavy sigh in response came to a stuttered stop as an arm snaked over his ribs and up his back, hand coming to rest flat on his shoulder blade. Too small to be his brother's, he realized suddenly, as it grabbed a handful of his sleep shirt and bunched it up. Another small hand wormed under his waist; gentle but firm, a little too fast. Desperate. Bunching up in the back of his shirt like it's twin.
Orym, his brain supplied, in a flash like lightning, and he was stumbling out of sleep and back into the bed he was sharing with Fearne and Orym. His best friends.
His brother was safely on his way home, accompanied by Morrighan and Fy'ra Rai. Opal and Dariax were also curled up somewhere nearby, mixed in with the rest of the Bells Hells on the two big beds they'd dragged onto the floor.
And Orym was…Orym was…
"Or'm?" Dorian mumbled, tongue heavy in his mouth. "You okay?"
Orym, pressed tightly against his chest, stilled instantly.
Dorian frowned and wrapped both arms around the halfling, shifting him closer until his head was tucked just beneath Dorian's chin.
Dorian felt Orym's cold nose press into the space between Dorian's neck and one of the large, down pillows they were sharing. Orym was shivering, so Dorian lifted the arm not pinned beneath Orym and pulled the sparse blankets up, tucking them tight around Orym's back and shoulders. He laid his arm along the trembling curve of Orym's back, with his hand resting where his thumb could trace circles around Orym's shoulder blade through the blankets.
Orym pulled himself tighter against Dorian, and settled, still shaking.
Dorian started to drift, then, the rhythm of the rain against the metal roof and the deep rumble of the thunder calming him and drawing him back to sleep.
But just as he was fading, the rain outside let up for the briefest moment, and Dorian heard a muffled sob from his still trembling friend.
Dorian's heart dropped, and he jolted awake, fully this time. "Orym, what's wrong?" he whispered, readjusting to reach Orym's ear and be heard over the storm outside.
"I'm okay," Orym answered, voice rough and accompanied by a hiccupped breath.
Dorian hummed and hugged Orym closer. "You don't have to be, though,"
Orym's wounded sob was unmuffled this time and it cut like a frost blade straight to Dorian's core. Orym started crying in earnest then, shaking apart in his arms, and Dorian could do little more than hug him tight and try to hold him together.
"Shhh, you're alright. You're alright," Dorian soothed, continuing with quiet nothingness as the storm swept his words away, drowning them out for everyone but Orym.
After a long while, Orym calmed, sobs settling into little hiccups and stuttered breaths. His breath was hot against Dorian's neck, warm tears damp against Dorian's skin.
"S-sorry," Orym sighed shakily.
"You don't need to apologize," Dorian reassured gently, shifting the hand on Orym's shoulders up to his hair, carding his fingers through the wild curls and scratching gently at his scalp.
Orym hummed and his grip on Dorian's shirt relaxed, though his arms stayed wrapped tightly around Dorian's ribs.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Dorian murmured, already feeling sleep trying to drag him out of himself and somewhere else.
"I…thank you," Orym managed. After a moment, he sighed heavily and settled into the circle of Dorian's arms. "Maybe later,"
Dorian rested his head on the pillow above Orym's, and he let his eyes fall closed, though in the darkness there was little difference in what he saw. The wind picked up and he thought he heard something outside falling over, but in this weather it was so hard to tell. It could really...be anything...
"Dori?"
Orym's voice startled him awake. "Yes?" He answered sleepily.
"Can I…ask you something?"
"Anything,"
A pause, a breath.
"Can you sing something?"
"Of course," Dorian whispered. It would be hard to properly sing, in here, but this close he could get away with half humming. He cleared his throat. "Any requests?"
"I like the one you wrote in Zephrah,"
Dorian frowned. "That one's not done, though,"
"Oh...well, you don't have to-"
Dorian mentally kicked himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that I don't want to…I just- it's not complete,"
"I like what you have so far," Orym yawned. "Please?"
"Alright," Dorian answered, focusing hard to think of the words scrawled in his notebook, searching for the starting pitch in his head. Once he remembered how it began, it only took him a moment to settle into the melody, weaving in and out of the half-formed lyrics and just humming the parts he hadn't decided on yet.
When he got to the chorus, he felt more than heard Orym join him, mumbling along with a low rumble that buzzed in time with Dorian's own voice against his chest. Orym never sang; not anywhere that Dorian heard him, anyways. Dorian wondered if he thought the bard couldn't hear him now. He would have to ask Orym later to sing with him, when he could hear his voice.
But right now, in the midst of the torrent outside and with sleep seeping into his mind again, he was content to feel the rumble of Orym's voice against his chest. As the chorus drew to its end and shifted into the last, half-finished, verse, Orym's voice grew quieter, only interrupted by the jolt of a hiccup or a gentle shudder, until it faded altogether. Replacing it was the gentle rise and fall of Orym's chest, the warm pulse of his breath ghosting against Dorian's throat. He settled, warm and trusting and safely asleep in the circle of Dorian's arms.
Dorian sighed and settled beside him, pressing a kiss to his still damp curls. He drifted with the rhythm of Orym's breathing, the rain and the wind fading into white noise.
Thunder rolled gently outside.
At Dorian's back, Fearne shifted and pressed against him before she settled too.
As sleep drew him back down, down, down, Dorian fleetingly wished, as he had the whole time he'd been gone, that he'd never have to fall asleep without them again.
And maybe tonight, finally beside them once more, he'd dream of the lyrics to complete the song he'd started for them in Zephrah.