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“Oh, shit, fuck!” Laudna cursed, the weight of Ashton’s body falling squarely on her shoulder where she had wedged herself under his arm, trying to balance out his unsteady feet as they made their way across the deck of the skyship.
“Sorry,” Ashton muttered quietly, apparently making a vested effort to take a little of their weight off her, not that it really made much of a difference. Laudna was as weak and breakable a person could be to begin with—the minuscule change in weight wasn’t going to do her a whole lot of good.
“How do you weigh this much?” Laudna asked absently, seeing as most of her concentration was going into keeping them both upright and tottering along their way.
“Muscle,” Ashton said. He was well and truly sloshed, the nearly empty bottle they’d been sharing clasped in the hand that wasn’t haphazardly thrown over Laudna’s shoulder. “I mean, rude question. But also. Muscle. And gold. Ha! That’s pretty fucking heavy, I guess.”
“You know, that’s fair, you are basically just a rock and some gold, that would be heavy.” Laudna was already huffing and puffing. Fuck, but she was not built for this sort of thing.
“Hey,” Captain Xandis called from across the deck, hand to their forehead like they were blocking out a bright light even though it was dark. “You need some help over there, creepy lady?”
“No!” Laudna yelled back, unable to hide the strain in her voice even a little bit. It was rather embarrassing. And shit, Ashton’s quarters still seemed a million miles away. “We’re fine!”
Xandis paused, watching them hobble across the deck a little longer before shrugging. “Okay! Have fun, hope you don’t break your back.”
“You probably should have let them help,” Ashton murmured, his voice suddenly in her ear, hot breath on the side of her face. “I mean, fuck, if I wasn’t drunk as hell, I wouldn’t let you do this.”
She scoffed indignantly, but it sounded more like a pathetic puff of air to her ears. “‘Let me’?” She repeated and readjusted her grip on him, forcing herself up taller, working her minimal strength for all that she could. “Don’t insult me, Ashton. I can do whatever needs to be done.”
“Don’t doubt that,” they said. “I mean, I’ll get yelled at by Imogen if you pull a muscle, which I’d love to avoid, but I don’t doubt you’ll still do it.”
She wanted to reply, but found herself a little too out of breath for it as she helped Ashton down beneath the deck. Stairs were tricky, and he lost his balance once, slipping down a couple before catching himself against the railing. He chuckled darkly and raised the bottle to his lips again, but Laudna snatched it out of his hand before he could drink.
“This is mine now,” she said, taking the drink intended for him before stoppering the bottle before slipping it into the large pocket in her skirt. “I think you’ve had quite enough already.”
To his credit, he didn’t argue. “Fair enough,” they said, keeping a tight grip on the railing for balance as they made it down the rest of the stairs.
Though Ashton’s quarters weren’t rall that far, it still felt like a terribly long walk. Laudna was actually warm enough that she was sweating a little by the time she shouldered the door open and unceremoniously dumped Ashton down on the bed inside.
He groaned and instantly curled up, rolling over to one side and burying his face in the pillow. Exhausted, Laudna sat at the foot of the bed, watching them with a quiet wariness and curiosity.
“Are you going to be all right?” She asked. “If I leave you here? You and Fresh Cut Grass?”
He groaned again, louder this time, and rolled back onto his back, uncurling and looking at her with his drink drowsy eyes. She’d never really seen Ashton like this, all bitter and dark and loathsome. She wondered if it was because they were drunk that they were willing to let her see it or if she simply had some special privilege. Because she knew, somehow, that this was a side of them they’d never shown off to FCG. Gods knew if he had, FCG would have never stopped prodding these wounds he showed off so freely to her.
“Yeah,” they said, not that she thought it was all that convincing. “I’ve been wasted before, I know the routine.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said.
“Oh, yeah?” He draped an arm over his eyes, like he was trying to go to sleep. “Then what did you mean?”
“I mean, do you need someone to be here?”
It was a long moment before they responded. “Fresh Cut Grass’ll show up eventually.”
“Then perhaps I should stay until then,” she said, crossing her legs under her and getting comfortable on the bed.
“No, fuck, no, you don’t have to…” They trailed off with a sigh and removed the arm from their face. “Take care of yourself, Laudna, I’ll be fine.”
She huffed and settled herself in deeper. “You know, you bitch about other people and their martyrism and then you turn around and can’t accept even a little bit of support? Seems a little hypocritical to me.”
“At least I’m not trying to blow myself up,” they said resignedly. “At least, you know, not literally speaking. Compared to that, this is nothing, really.”
Laudna snorted softly.
“I meant what I said, though,” Ashton continued. “You can go. I swear that I will be fine and not try to do any more stupid shit tonight. I’m just going to go to sleep.”
“Like that?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. He was still fully dressed.
“Why not?” He asked.
“Because that’s stupid,” she said, reaching for one of his boots.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, an odd, strangled note to his voice.
“I know I don’t have to,” she said, unable to hide all of the spitefulness in her words. She was angry with him, she found, and wasn’t entirely sure why. She understood what it was to wallow in one’s own misery, particularly late at night and with a bottle on hand. Even if she hadn’t liked some of the things he’d said, that was not where the anger was coming from. Laudna had never been the best person to identify something like that—she would rather spend her days focusing on better, happier things than anger, which she rarely spent a thought for except to tell herself it was best to let go of it. This, though, would not let go. Not when she pulled the boots off his feet and threw them on the floor, only for him to curl up again, as if rejecting any further aid she might give.
She didn’t know oif she was mad at them or for them. Upset for what they had said or because of what it revealed of them, that dark, soft underbelly of his, so determined to believe in his own aloneness. Not that he didn’t have his reasons to believe in it. And that only made her angrier, that he had reason to feel this way to begin with.
“Are you going to punch me in the face tonight?” They asked a moment later, shocking Laudna out of her reverie.
“What?” She asked, looking up at them.
“You look kind of pissed,” they said. “And if you’re gonna hit me, just let me know.”
“I’m not going to hit you,” she said. “At least, not tonight.”
“You’ll get me eventually, though,” he said, nestling into his pillow again. “I know it.”
“Why do you want me to?” She asked, flat out perplexed by their behavior. She didn’t know what on earth he would gain from her doing that. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t make sense. “Do you want me to?”
He turned to look back at her again. “Yeah, maybe,” he said.
She spread her hands, frustration coursing through her. She felt like Ashton had told her more about themself in this eventing than any other time combined and yet she was still feeling around in the dark trying to make sense of it all. “Why?”
A small smile curled up the edge of his lips, the first she’d seen that night. “I think angry is a good look on you.”
She sighed. “Whatever that means.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Whatever that means. I’m going to go to sleep now.”
“Well, fine,” she said, pushing to her feet. She could already feel the ache settling into her muscles after carrying him to bed. “I’ll just leave you to it, I suppose.”
She was at the door, one hand on the knob, when his voice stopped her. “Hey, Laudna?”
She looked back over her shoulder. He hadn’t moved, still curled up on the bed, fully dressed, eyes closed. “Yes?”
“Thanks,” they said. “For the drink. And…I don’t know. For listening.”
Laudna felt herself softening instantly. It really was aggravating how quickly her moods could change when they spoke. One moment she wanted to punch him in the face, and the next? All she wanted was to see him well. “Are you going to regret saying all you did come morning?”
“I don’t know,” they muttered. “Probably. Maybe. Yeah.”
“Well, I’m glad you said it,” she said. “I mean, you were acting like a bit of a dick, but I’m at least glad that you shared, finally.”
He sighed. “Get me drunk enough and I’ll say anything, I guess.”
She pulled open the door, glancing back at him one more time. “Ashton?”
“Hmm?”
There was something she wanted to say. A few things, probably. But she didn’t have the right words then, and somehow felt it was important that she did before she said them. She shook her head and began to back out of the room. “Good night, Ashton. That’s all.”
She was already closing the door when he looked up at her again, catching her eyes. But he was hard to read, a whole torrent of thoughts in his head she knew he must be thinking that she could barely begin to discern. It was frustrating as fuck. It also made her want to climb in there with him so she could listen. “Night, Laudna,” he said, with a strange sort of softness.
She shut the door on him, then, and wondered if she would be able to find sleep of her own so easily that night.