Chapter Text
Doom does not think anything beyond suspicion at Dain’s desire to please and need to be close, and even that fades as Dain does nothing to harm the Resistance. Doom keeps Dain’s behaviour in mind as a potential weakness, but nothing more.
That is, of course, until during one scolding- because Dain is training when he should be healing and resting , and he should have been more careful - Doom raises his hand in frustration, and he catches Dain stiffening, shifting his weight in preparation. Doom continues his talk, and leaves, before his mind begins to put the pieces together into one disturbing picture.
Dain is friendly, but close to no one. Dain was very, very sheltered before Doom found him. Dain is polite, obedient, and well mannered to a fault. He never complains- not within Doom’s earshot- no matter how much an order clearly bothers him.
Dain had been expecting Doom to harm him when he scolded him. He had seen it in the way Dain moved- after all, Doom is the one training him. It is possible that Dain is merely wary of Doom, but he had never reacted like that before.
Doom does not like the image his mind conjures, but he can see it all too clearly.
Enough. He has no need to worry himself over something that could potentially never be. He will talk to Dain about it tomorrow, and the confusion will be cleared.
Doom does not know how to be delicate about a subject, even if he is aware the conversation may call for it.
“Dain,” Doom says as calmly as he can as he sits across from Dain, giving them both plenty of room, “Did you think I was going to harm you yesterday?”
Dain startles and gives him a quick concerned look, speaking in a rush, “I know you would never do anything that would hurt me badly-“
“‘Badly,’” As if Dain isn’t still healing from his injuries, as if he didn’t nearly break his arm when he tripped last weak, as if Doom does not have to be extremely cautious during training to make sure Dain isn’t harmed. Doom closes his eyes, and tries to keep his voice level, “Do you believe I would do something like that?”
Dain is hesitant, he can tell. “I trust that you would do whatever is best for the Resistance.”
Doom feels something cold beginning to form in his gut, “Do you honestly think I am that despicable?”
The words are muttered, but Dain hears them anyway, and looks genuinely confused, “Despicable? Of course not- There is nothing despicable about you.”
“Dain,” Doom does not know how to be gentle about this, nor does he know how to say it in a way that is not too forceful- he knows how Dain speaks about him- with nothing but praise and admiration, and it is best to get to the heart of the issue, “Do you think it is normal for a parent to harm their child?”
Dain’s entire body freezes for half a moment before looking down, and Doom has his answer.
Doom feels fury in that- almost as much as the rage he feels at the Shadow Lord- those were parents, the people who Dain was meant to feel safe around. He knows no one should harm their child- he knows it deep in his bones, and anyone that would dare -
Doom pushes aside the feeling. He does not know if he had a child before, but no doubt if he did, they are dead, at best. The Shadowlands is a horrid fate.
Instead, he focuses on another thought. He knows how worry can cause anger, and how disobedience can lead to death- especially for those that are young. Some do not understand the true danger that lies in breaking such small, seemingly harmless, rules.
That does not excuse harming a child, and it disgusts Doom that he understands a reason why Dain may have been treated as he was.
“I-“ Dain looks like he’s desperately trying to think of something to say, and Doom sighs.
“You may leave, Dain.” Doom runs his hands through his hair as Dain surries off.
…It may be a blessing in disguise that Dain is no longer with them.
Doom realises, unfortunately enough, that within the Resistance Dain is only actually close to him.
Which means that there is no one else to tell him that-
Enough. Doom is not Dain’s father, or his caretaker-
Because Dain does not have anyone, and he thinks that-
Doom shoves the voice into the back of his mind before sighing.
…He will go on missions with Dain more often, it would not be too horrible to talk about such a thing while they travel.
While Dain does not complain about the silence as they walk, it is clear that it bothers him. Doom closes his eyes, and sighs. Of all the problems he has had, he never thought a resistance member being too obedient would be one of them.
“Dain, you are skilled with a bow, are you not?” Doom asks, glancing at his companion from the corner of his eye.
Dain blinks, before nodding with a soft smile, “Yes, my father taught me from when I was very young- I am far more skilled with a bow then a blade.”
Doom nods, giving a noise of acknowledgment. Steven will likely have one that is comfortable for him. Dain has looked longingly at the bows within the Resistance before, but many of those are ill-fitting for Dain.
Dain is far too small and thin to be comfortable using such weapons, and that will cost him later.
“We are meeting an ally of the Resistance,” Doom explains, “He and his brother travel together. He is a travelling merchant that sells to the Resistance at great cost to himself. He will likely have weapons for sale that suit you better than the ones we have at the Resistance that suit you.”
He ignores the look of clear gratitude that Dain gives him. A bow is not some grand gesture, it is a weapon purely for tactical purposes.
When they reach the road, Doom signals for Dain to wait. Like always, he hears Steven and his brother before he sees them.
“Colly-wobble Ol-io,
Jolly-wolly Ol-io,
Colly-wobble Ol-io,
You don't bother me!”
Dain shifts his weight uncomfortably, and Doom raises his hand and shakes his head. “That is the merchant, Steven. He always sings such things, do not worry, we are not in danger.”
Dain gives a sharp nod, but his eyes still glance around warily.
After a few moments, the cart comes into view, and Doom walks forward, Dain following slightly behind.
Steven is as jolly as ever, and he gives Doom a wave as they approach him, “Steven, this is Dain,” Doom has little time to waste on pleasantries, and he has no need to talk around the idea of the Resistance when all of them are members, “He is a new member of the Resistance. Do you have a bow that would suit him?”
“Ah, young Dain, is it?” Steven says as he steps off the seat, grinning broadly.
“Yes- I- My name is Dain,” Dain nods, looking unsure and frozen before the larger man, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Steven.”
“A polite one you have here, Doom,” Steven says with a chuckle as he walks to the cart’s door, “I’m sure we have something that will work well for you, why don’t you come inside?”
At Doom’s nod, Dain hurries inside, and Doom allows himself to relax somewhat. Steven is a responsible man, and given his warm nature, Dain will be far more comfortable with him then with Doom.
Then again, Dain is still too injured for long travel, and Doom has a feeling that Steven would not deny Dain’s constant requests to see Tora.
Later. Doom will tell him later, when Dain is strong enough.
Doom watches as Dain leaves Steven’s cart with a far better fitting bow and other necessities, and Doom pays for them without a word. Steven, clearly noticing how thin Dain is, hands the boy some extra food.
“Free of change,” He says easily, giving them a wink, “Tell no one.”
“I- Thank you, of course,” Dain bows his head, and Doom does not care to tell whether it is from shyness or respect.
Doom feels the beginnings of a headache as Dain assumes the food is for the Resistance, and so gives it to the first people he sees that are in need.
The first thing Dain does upon hearing he has healed enough to go on missions instead of simply shadowing Doom is request that they visit Tora.
“There are no missions there,” Doom sighs, “And just as well. It is far too dangerous for you. You need to train more before you are ready.”
“...Very well.” Doom can tell Dain is displeased, but he can handle that. For now, Dain still has hope, and Tora will shatter that. With luck, Doom will be able to track down Dain’s family before such a thing happens.
Then, he will have answers. He can admit to himself he would be perfectly content if Dain never did see their faces again, were it not for the grief it would cause the boy.
Even if Tora were not empty, Doom would not let Dain go there until he is well trained.
Doom notices that during missions, Dain is very gentle with others, almost so to the point that he is scared of them. Doom has seen Dain scared before, and this is not it. This is the care that Dain has in his eyes when they are sparing. A fear that he will accidentally harm them.
Doom does not comment. He merely reminds Dain to remain aware of their surroundings.
Doom rethinks his idea of letting Dain travel with Steven the first time Dain meets Nevets. It is not the worst encounter, but Nevets tears through the remaining guards as if they are nothing, and Dain seems frozen, staring at the bodies and seeing none of it.
Nevets’s golden eyes catch sight of Dain, who still holds his weapons, albeit loosely, and Doom steps in front of Dain before Nevets deems him a foe, “It’s me, Doom. We are safe! There is no threat here, go back to Steven.”
Nevets takes one last look at the figure behind Doom, and returns to Steven.
Doom hears Dain drop his weapons first, and turns as Dain falls to the ground, almost on his back. Dain does not see anything, and sits there, breathing far too quickly.
“Dain,” Doom begins, kneeling in front of him, but Dain barely reacts, looking at the remains of the Grey Guards and then his own bloodied clothes.
“Dain!” Doom barks, sharper this time, enough to pierce the haze in his eyes, “Breathe with me.” His voice is not gentle, but he cannot afford it to be. It takes mere moments for Dain to calm down, enough so that Steven can prepare his cart and make leave.
None of them can remain here, but first he needs Dain to calm down.
“That- He- What was-” Dain keeps gasping, but Doom keeps his voice and breathing even.
“Breathe, Dain,” Doom repeats, his voice soft but firm, “We are safe. We need to leave.”
That seems to get through to Dain, as he nods, still trying to control his breathing, and stands shakily. Doom collects the weapons, sheathing them as he stands. Then, he holds his arm out and does not wince as Dain shies away for a moment before accepting it.
He helps Dain onto the wagon, and sits between Dain and Steven, allowing the silence to settle as Dain finishes calming down.
“I- I am sorry for freezing up like that,” Dain looks down, and, upon seeing the blood, moves his gaze to the trees, “It was- unexpected.”
“I suppose very few do ever expect Nevets,” Steven chuckles humourlessly, “My brother is protective when disturbed like that. I apologise for scaring you.”
“I see,” Dain replies in a tone that Doom knows means he does not understand at all, and is merely keeping peace, “I am glad to know you will always be safe, Steven.” Dain hesitates for several moments, glancing at Doom, waiting for something.
Doom hands Dain his weapons back, “Do not freeze like that again. Next time, it might cost you far more.” Doom says gruffly, the only thing keeping him calm being that Nevets likely would not have hurt Dain, so Dain should have been fine.
This cannot happen again.
“Run if you must,” Doom mutters, and Dain stares at him as if he has grown wings, “Just do not be reckless with your safety.”