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Day 5. Not even a bed, really
“Finally,” Felix grumbles as he pushes at the heavy wooden door of the old hunting cabin. Thankfully, the door is unlocked, so he doesn’t have to break in. He shoves Sylvain through the door, enters after him, then lets the door slam shot behind them.
The cabin they’ve entered is small and old, but thankfully dry and protects them from the wind and snow. It’s cold, since no one has clearly been here for a while, but in the dim light filtering through the windows, Felix spots a fireplace with some wood stacked next to it in a neat pile. At least they’ll be able to warm up.
Felix is exhausted and freezing, he feels he could just collapse on the carpet in front of the fireplace and never get up again. But that’s not an option.
First, he has to get a fire going. Then see to Sylvain’s injuries and get them both out of their wet clothes. There’s no bed, but a mattress in the corner can be dragged in front of the fireplace, along with any blankets, furs, and towels he can find.
“Fire first,” he decides. To get some light to see what he’s doing, as well as the warmth both he and Sylvain desperately need. He tosses a few pieces of wood into the fireplace, along with anything else he can find that will make it easier to get the fire going.
He takes off his gloves, then rubs his hands together. Now to get the actual fire started. It’s going to be a bit tricky, since he has no proper training in this field, but he also can’t waste time playing with flint. It’s all wet from the snow, anyway.
He looks to Sylvain, who just sits in a heap on the carpet where Felix left him, and steels himself. He has to manage it. He has to, or they’ll both die from the cold. He focuses his energy, and tries to summon his magic, the same way his father tried to teach him years ago.
If Sylvain was more coherent, he would be able to light the fire in a moment with a simple fire-spell. But Sylvain can’t even lift his hand, let alone focus on anything. So it’s all up to Felix.
“Come on,” he mutters quietly to himself. Tries to focus everything he has in the palm of his hand. “Just a little bit, that’s all I need...” A spark appears between his fingertips, but fades out before he has the chance to get excited. Felix takes a deep breath. It’s okay, he just has to be patient.
He focuses, trying to get that spark to ignite again. He doesn’t need much, just enough to get the dry wood to burn. An electric spark appears at his fingers, lingering longer this time, but –
“Dammit, come on!” Felix curses as the spark fades again. Sylvain groans behind him as he tries to move closer to Felix. He’s not really coherent enought to do anything, and soon sinks back to the floor.
“Dammit!” Felix curses again, staring at the not-burning wood in the fireplace.
For once in his life, he wishes he had accepted his father’s offer to teach him some Faith-magic. If he had, he would be able to heal Sylvain. But he hadn’t learned healing, and had gone hunting or sword-training instead whenever Rodrigue had brought it up. Eventually the old man had stopped trying.
Or maybe if he’d listened to the Professor, and focused a bit more on his Reason-magic skills. He’d be able to light the fire with the flick of a wrist and keep both of them warm. But he had insisted on focusing on his swordsmanship, and nothing else.
If we get out of this mess, he promises himself, I’m going to make sure to at least learn one thunder-spell, and one basic healing-spell. He’ll even ask his father for help if he has to. The old man would probably be overjoyed, with how much he keeps trying to spend time with Felix.
Whatever it takes, as long as he won’t have to feel this sort of helplessness ever again.
Lightning sparks between his fingers again, stronger this time, and the dry wood finally catches fire.
“About time,” Felix sighs, leaning back from the fireplace. The crackling flames fill the small cabin with light and warmth. Things are already looking less bleak.
But there’s no time to relax yet. He still has things to do.
“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he tells Sylvain, nudging the redhead who’s now curled up on the carpet in his wet clothes, wound bleeding sluggishly, injured leg sticking out at an uncomfortable angle.
“’m tired,” Sylvain mumbles, voice muffled as he seems to be trying to bury his face in the carpet. At least he’s still awake, for now.
“Sleep later,” Felix grumbles. He forces Sylvain into a seated position and starts pulling off his wet clothes, as well as his own.
“Hey!” Sylvain protests, swatting at his hands, but is too weak to really put up any kind of fight. “At least buy me dinner first!” He seems to be feeling a bit better.
“Shut up!” Felix snaps, struggling with the buttons on Sylvain’s coat. Why are there so many buttons? “You’re going to freeze if you don’t get out of those wet clothes, idiot!”
After a few more minutes of grumbling and half-hearted struggling, the wet clothes are finally removed and tossed around the fireplace to dry. Then comes the task of taking care of Sylvain’s injuries.
Peeling away the makeshift bandages, Felix gets his first proper look at them. He’s no healer, or expert at this, so all he can tell is that the wounds are bloody, and some of them look kind of deep. He washes it was well as he can, using melted snow, then rebandages it with strips of cloth he cuts from a pillowcase. He knows it’s not great, and that Sylvain needs a proper healer, but this is the best he can do for now.
Because of the storm they can’t leave until morning at the earliest, and that’s assuming it blows out during the night and doesn’t continue for days. Hopefully the rest of the Blue Lions will be out looking for them too, so he doesn’t have to drag Sylvain too far by himself. But right now he has to focus on getting through the night. Everything else can wait.
Knowing Sylvain will need all the heat available, Felix pulls the mattress from the corner and moves Sylvain on top of it to get him off the wet carpet. Next he grabs all the blankets, and towels, and every single scrap of cloth he can find, then does his best to wrap them around Sylvain and himself as he curls around the taller man.
Sylvain feels cold and clammy in his arms. It almost feels like he’s cuddling with a giant squid rather than a human. The cold emanating from Sylvain almost makes Felix freeze, but he’s determined not to let go, not to let his boyfriend be any more cold.
“You’re freezing,” Felix mutters, suppressing his own shivers as he tries to rub Sylvain with his hands and feet to generate more heat, feeling him shaking from the cold.
Sylvain mumbles something through his chattering teeth that Felix barely hears over the crackling of the fire. Something about this being payback for last time they slept together.
Felix nearly rolls his eyes. Of course Sylvain has to pick now of all times to bring up how it’s usually him complaining about Felix’ feet feeling like blocks of ice.
“Shut up and sleep,” Felix mutters, poking the redhead in the side.
“Not even gonna give me a goodnight kiss?”
Felix can almost hear the pout in Sylvain’s voice. “Idiot.”
This doesn’t stop him from pressing a quick kiss to the back of Sylvain’s neck, the only place he can comfortably reach without moving.
“Your idiot,” Sylvain amends, before drifting off to sleep in Felix’ arms.