Work Text:
Late evenings in the Crystarium were oft filled with the joy and excitement of many a newly found night owl, desperate to celebrate the return of the Night (even if it had been a few moons since it had been restored to all of Norvrandt). Despite the hubbub of the local tavern being awash with idle chatter and drinks aplenty, the nearby apartments were quiet and serene… for the most part.
In a small shared apartment, the lights were extinguished and the curtains drawn. A lone figure was tucked into the bed, separated from the rest of the quaint living quarters. His breath came in slight, measured puffs, brows drawn as sweat started to bead on his brow.
Tolas Valkirk was dreaming… he had once again been put on leave after a particularly gruelling few weeks at his usual post in the Imperative. The poor elf had overworked his still-exhausted body, ignoring the chronic issues that were flaring up inside of him until he had all but collapsed against Atli during his debriefing after his vision had grown spotty, his speech slurred.
Mauwyl had been contacted quickly, and the hume was all but beside himself as he had dropped all his work to ‘come and save his dolt of a boyfriend.’
Unfortunately, he had to return to business, but had told Tolas that he would return in a few bells. To rest and he’d bring back the most delicious feast from the Wandering Stairs as a treat.
The elf had agreed, albeit guiltily, before he watched his lover leave with a tired sigh, settled into bed, and had fallen into an exhausted stupor before his head had fully hit the pillow.
Back to his current state of shaky repose, Tolas’s breathing became ragged, his grip against the comforter turned knuckle-white as a keen in his throat bubbled out of him as his lips trembled with half-mumbled words.
“T-Tre-lorn! Are… you…?”
His head snapped from one side to the other before his trembling hands clutched his stomach, his breathing shallow and choked, as if he were drowning.
In his dreams, it was his own blood.
In his dreams, he was back there… the night he was struck by a deadly blow from a Sin Eater to save his recruit.
He couldn’t escape.
Tolas’s back arched up off the mattress, his mouth agape as his throat clicked and rasped. In his mind, he was dying. He couldn’t stop the way in which his brain painted the same final moments in the rain, the way his contingent surrounded him and tried to staunch the bleeding… the way Tre-lorn had sobbed over his body, apologising and wailing for getting their Captain hurt.
Most of all, he couldn’t escape the thoughts of how he was about to lose Mauwyl. How the poor hume would be left all alone, knowing his lover’s final moments were filled with nothing but agony and regret.
He needed to live. He needed to fight.
He had to return to Mauwyl…
With a sharp gasp, his eyes snapped open; the soft, sky-blue irises had pinpricks of black as they trembled in his skull. His body was still arched, hands clasping his stomach as if his insides would spill across the silken sheets if he dared move. The elf wasn’t sure how long he had been lying there; his breaths were shallow and sharp, eyes unseeing of the smooth ceiling above. Tolas was trapped in his mind, believing he was still bleeding out in the lilac planes of Lakeland. His consciousness was keeping him hostage to the point that he didn’t even hear the jingle of keys and soft call into the space as Mauwyl entered their shared space.
A small gasp came from his side before the weight of the bed dipped slightly as the hume took in the sight of his lover.
“Tolas!” His voice was soft and gentle, despite the urgency that bled into the end. “It’s alright… you’re home… you’re safe.”
There was a brief flicker of his eyes spinning around his skull as he tried to place where his partner's voice was coming from before a long keening whine bubbled from his throat and his nails dug further into his stomach. The commotion from his earlier self had pushed the comforter to his knees, thus leaving his hands clutched at the bare skin of his torso, nails digging into the scarred skin at his navel.
It’s going to all come falling out… he had to keep it together… he will die if he doesn’t…
“It’s…” he choked out, voice rough and terse. “I-I’m going to die…”
He let out a soft cry before he managed to pry one hand away from himself and blindly reach out. “Mauwyl… I need to find… Mau…” Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, carving deep tracks before they stained the pillowcase beneath him. His crystal blue eyes remained glassy and unseeing, even as the hume he was calling for lent closer.
“Tolas, please!” Mauwyl begged, his own tears flowing freely as he hesitated to grasp the other’s wavering hand. “It’s me… It’s Mauwyl!”
The elf’s hand continued to reach out, his tears still streaming as he whined out for his partner. Distantly, he recognised that the hume was calling out for him, but in his panicked tunnel-vision, he almost forgot that he could move his head. “M-Mauwyl… please… help…”
Almost as if he was snapping out of his own thoughts, Mauwyl let a sob escape him as he clasped Tolas’s hand in both of his own. “I-I’m sorry, my love… I didn’t mean ta make you wait like that for me…” He started biting his own lip as fat tears rolled down his cheeks, harsh breaths leaving him as he tried not to break too far in front of the elf.
Ice blue eyes moving around his skull in a rather rapid fashion, Tolas eventually saw Mauwyl lean over so that the warmth of the woodcutter seeped into the knight’s clammy skin. He blinked a few more times as his vision became less clouded and a fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks anew. “A-Apri-”
“Tolas… my love… I’m so sorry.” Tears continued to roll down his cheeks in hot streaks as he nuzzled against Tolas, pulling him close despite the sweat that drenched him. “I-I didn’t mean to hesitate… I was just… when I saw you I-”
The knight shifted slightly, gritting his teeth as he made himself more comfortable in Mauwyl’s lap, still holding onto one hand while his other still refused to leave his stomach. “Don’t… apologise, please.” He took a few moments to get his breath back, the phantom pains in his stomach still flaring and flashes of his nightmare visible every time he blinked. “It’s not your fault. It was a nightmare… I… I think I pushed it too hard lately, like you all told me I was, and my mind was paying the price of my hubris.”
Pouting slightly, the woodcutter leaned down to kiss his knight’s lips tenderly. “While I agree you pushed it a little and it probably didn’t help ya situation… I…” He worried his lower lip in an attempt to stop it from warbling, sniffling harshly to clear his sinuses. “It’s been a while since I saw ya that bad, y’know. I just froze for a second… hesitated to hold your hand cause I was so scared that you kept sayin’ you was gonna die.”
“Oh…” Tolas was still getting used to the fact that his counterpart often told him that when he was having his nightmares, he often spoke aloud… causing guilt to flare in his stomach. “I… I’m… I didn’t…” He found his words escaping him, his shame dusting his cheeks as another wave of pain rolled over him. “I was just so tired, and I thought I was maybe too tired to even have nightmares… I am sorry you heard my frazzled panic…”
Maybe Chessamile has something I can take to help with it… The elf mused inwardly. Then maybe Mauwyl won’t have to be so afraid. Maybe we can both learn a spell or have a way to reassure us that I won’t die anytime soon…
Mauwyl took a deep breath and started running a hand through Tolas’s hair. “You need to stop apologising too. It’s somethin’ you have no control over…” They sat in the quiet air of their shared apartment for a few moments before the hume continued. “I was shocked… but it’s not somethin’ that is gonna make me run for the hills. I just need you to know that.”
“Thank you…” Tolas whispered. He then let Mauwyl guide his other arm away from his stomach, so he could apply a soothing ointment on the now-inflamed skin. “I am sorry that things are like this now… I… I will try my best to be more careful and considerate of my health so you won’t have to fear for my life like that again.”
The woodcutter pouted and pinched the knight’s cheek lightly before resuming his assessment of the other. “Shush, you… Like I said, you didn’t know that what yous were saying in that nightmare was being relayed out loud… if anything… it will help me know how to adapt in the future.” His eyes lit up briefly as he had his own epiphany. “Maybe Miss Chessamile has some more advice she can give me… so I don’t go hesitating again.”
A soft, amused huff left the elf, and he let his eyes slip closed for a moment, willing the memory of that night to fade while he relished in the sounds of his partner’s quiet breathing. “I was thinking down a similar avenue… though more with me finding ways to suppress the nightmare than you having to further adapt to my current shortcomings.”
Remember, Tolas, you are safe. It smells like apple and daphne. Mauwyl is here… I am with him in our bed in the Pendants. I am with him…
His nose whistled a little as he sniffed the air with more conviction. “Ah… is that takeout I smell?”
Mauwyl snorted. “If you mean some of the most delicious broad bean soup with a side of peppered popotoes and some pixie apple pie for dessert, then yes… it is what you should be smelling.” He paused for a second. “I did kinda just dump it on the table… when I heard you choking and calling out… so if it’s a mighty mess, the uh latter half should still be edible?”
“I’m sure it will be fine… I think.” Tolas peered up at Mauwyl, feeling a blush dust his cheeks as the adrenaline of his flashback had finally finished seeping out of his body. “I will make up for it, if the soup is ruined, it was my fault after all.”
“I swear to the Exarch’s crystal remains, if you keep apologising or offering to fix things, I will do something to make you stop.”
Tolas rolled his eyes, relishing in the familiar banter that often happened between them. “And pray tell, what is something?”
Mauwyl sucked in a breath before he adjusted Tolas to sitting up, careful not to be too hasty lest he hurt the weakened elf. “I will… confiscate your jellied harcot!” His grin grew. “Yeah, that’s it! No jellied goodness for a fortnight!”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Tolas gave a faux glare. “Y-You know they’re my favourite and you wouldn’t think about depriving me of something that gives your partner such delight when he gets to eat one?”
“I WOULD, because I know how much and why you like them so much.” Mauwyl had a mischievous glint in his eyes and kissed him before they started making their way over to the table. “Your obsession with harcot- or apricot, as the Warrior of Light called it, has not gone unnoticed by me, my dearest knight.”
Grumbling, Tolas sat down on the chair as his blush reached the tips of my ears. “N-Not my fault, they remind me of you…”
Mauwyl started dishing out their food, relieved to see the soup hadn’t spilled. “And pray tell, what is it about the fruit that reminds you of me? I thought you said I smelled like apples and flowers?”
It shocked Tolas a little that his partner had remembered his passing comments about the way he smelled. But despite the way it made his heart skip a beat, he knew that he couldn’t omit the truths behind the nickname any longer. “I…well… It’s your eyes mainly. They look so fresh and pretty like a harcot… Y’know… they’re the same shade of orange… ripe and filled with wonder and…” He trailed off and found the pattern on the woodgrain table far more interesting all of a sudden.
Laughing lightly, Mauwyl pushed Tolas’s food closer to him before resting their hands over each other. “I know… I just love hearing you tell me that kinda thing. You’re such a romantic, Tolas. Arguably more romantic than anyone I know- and we all knew about the Exarch and his Warriors' passions for each other.”
Tolas blushed further and ducked his head shyly. The atmosphere around them, while still a little tense as the elf struggled to take in a breath that didn’t shake his entire body or tense his stomach from time to time, was otherwise relaxing and back to some semblance of normalcy. “I like showing my appreciation of you, Mauwyl.”
“Once again, oh how I know you do.” The hume quirked his brow suggestively for a moment before he pulled his hand away for them both to begin eating.
He is so strong… However, my nightmare was… how he must’ve seen me in that state was probably scary… I’m so lucky to have him here.
They let themselves lapse into silence; the only sounds were of eating and the clanging of cutlery before Tolas found himself too full to finish his share of the meal.
“Apricot?” He called softly, his exhaustion washing over him once more. Oh, the wonders a warm meal and pleasant company could do for the soul.
Mauwyl snapped his head up to the other and quickly swallowed his mouthful before nodding. “Aye, my flower? What’s wrong?”
Tolas shook his head, his mind a little fuzzy from the overwhelming love he felt for Mawuyl in that moment. “I-I’m fine, the food was delicious as always. I just.” He took a moment to look at the hume in his dazzling harcot eyes. “I just wanted to thank you. I know that it was hard… to see me in such a state again, and I know you felt guilty for hesitating, but please… You still reached out for me and grounded me back in the real world. I just needed to express that it means so much to me…”
“Oh, Tolas.” Mauwyl pushed his chair from under him and walked around until he was near the elf. Within a beat, the taller male was suddenly being cradled by the woodcutter. “I’m glad I can help you. I know you are rather stubborn when it comes to your work… I just want to help you anyways I can.” A bright grin spread across his face, and he pressed a kiss into Tolas’s hair before he went about carefully scooping the taller man into his hold so he could ferry him back to their bed. “And I can continue that by getting your exhausted self settled and cozy.”
You already help me so much. Tolas wanted to protest. He wanted to clean the table and then be the one to carry his partner into their bed… to pull him close and never let go. But he had to relent… things were different now, and the elf was getting used to the fact that he now had new limitations on his body (ones he had stubbornly ignored until it started causing more stress for those around him).
It’s hard to accept my fate sometimes. I need to think of Mauwyl and our future…
Mawyul knocked against his head lightly, his eyes awash with concern, before sliding his hand down his cheek and brushing it with his thumb. “Hey… I was worried I lost you again for a moment there.”
“Sorry.” Tolas shyly averted his gaze. “I was just thinking about how much you do for me and wish I could repay you tenfold.”
“You do, Tolas. Be it by taking care of your body or continuing to love me despite my many flaws.” The hume gave him a peck on the nose and tilted his chin up to see him better. “I know things are a lot different now… but I adore the life we have. If having you in my life means I have to bear the weight of the Crystarium with my own hands, I would do it again and again.”
A tear of joy rolled down Tolas’s cheek before he reached out to pull Mauwyl into the tightest hug he could manage in that moment. He wished to imprint every word he couldn’t express into Mawyul’s very being. He would do anything too… anything to forever show his undying devotion to the woodcutter. “I love you, Mauwyl Mudkirk.” That was all he could think to say.
“I love you too, Tolas Valkirk.” They shared another chaste kiss before the hume begrudgingly pulled away. “I will be but a moment. I just gotta put the leftovers away, and then I can come back.”
Tolas nodded, swallowing down the flash of panic at the idea that Mawuyl would be away for a moment. It faintly reminded him of when they had first tried to be apart after Tolas was freshly recovering… a deep-set anxiety that meant they couldn’t be apart for more than a bell at the time. “Alright… but when you come back, can you tell me about your day?”
Smiling brightly, Mauwyl nodded. “Of course, and then I will tell you about what we will do with our day tomorrow, since we will both be off work.”
“Sounds like a plan.” The elf agreed.
⋮°˖✧ 𓆩✧𓆪 ✧˖°⋮
Not even a quarter of a bell had passed before Mauwyl was back in bed with his counterpart, recounting his day in vivid detail while running his hands through the elf’s hair. Tolas had melted into him, listening with rapt attention and hanging on every word with renewed joy in his heart. While things often looked bleak- be it his melancholy or chronic pain… knowing that he had Mauwyl by his side made him realise his life would always be worth living.
I may be quite the pessimist, but Mauwyl just has this magic ability to always make me feel as though we will be okay.
And despite it all, Tolas knew they would be okay in the end.
Be it through sin eater attacks or high waters, the elf would always fight… Fight for Mauwyl- for their past and their future.
And that was something Tolas Valkirk would forever live by in the name of Mauwyl Mudkirk.
“Are you ready to try sleeping again?” The woodcutter asked softly, bringing the knight back from his thoughts.”
“Aye, I guess so… with you holding me this close, I know you will appear in my dreams and chase away anything unbecoming with that scary axe of yours.”
With a light giggle, Mauwyl kissed Tolas’s cheek and pulled the duvet up to their necks, making sure the taller male was the smaller spoon to give his stomach more time to heal. “You can count on it, my love.”
Bringing up Mauwyl’s hand, Tolas pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles before keeping it close to his chest- his eyes heavy with the warmth of security.
“Alright… goodnight, my apricot.”
“Pleasant dreams, my dear knight.”