Work Text:
It was a hot day, and Salt of Solidarity was starting to feel it. His armour was heating him up to an unbearable degree, and the recently finished battle left him exhausted. He could also feel a concerning amount of pain in his left shoulder and chest, but that was probably nothing he couldn’t walk off.
The Kala Namak soldiers around him were too busy cleaning themselves and the battlefield up to notice his laboured breathing, and the way he struggled to get back up on his feet, but he was not going to bring his pain to their attention. They had their own to take care of, after all.
He felt like he was boiling alive in his armour that had suddenly gotten all too heavy. All he wanted right now was to take his helmet off… no. Too many people around. He had his principles, for witches’ sake, he could handle a little bit of heat.
‘Lord Commander,’ he heard. Leaning on his sword, he managed to walk to the soldier who had called out his name.
‘What is it?’ He was almost a head taller than all the other cookies around him, so he had to bend his neck to look the soldier in the face. The pain in his shoulder cried out again, and he was thankful that his helmet was covering his face, so the others couldn’t see him grimace.
‘We’ve got quite a few injured cookies, and we’re far away from the Great Barren. Many are losing jam all too quickly. We need to get them patched up.’
Salt of Solidarity sighed, taking in the view of injured cookies and the desolate field they were all standing in. He could see a forest on the horizon… actually, now that he thought about it, they had wandered quite far to the West. This could be the forest…
‘The faerie kingdom should be not too far away,’ he said. ‘I’m well acquainted with their king. If we move out now, we should get there by sundown and find someone to help us.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The soldier bowed her head and relayed the plan to everyone else. All injured cookies were to be seated on horseback with those who could still ride; the remaining horses would be led behind them.
Salt of Solidarity came up to Nox, his trusted black stallion. Usually, mounting the horse was no struggle for him, despite the creature’s enormous size. But with his shoulders and ribs throbbing in pain, he had to take several attempts to finally sit in the saddle.
‘Lord Commander?’ one of the knights rode up to him and removed her helmet to reveal the concern on her face.
‘I’m fine,’ he said shortly. ‘Let us ride.’
By the time they made it to the gates of the faerie kingdom, the sun had set, bringing some relief to Salt. He almost didn’t sway when getting off his horse to knock on the gate. He could feel the uneasiness of his knights; most of them had never been to the land of the faeries before, only hearing about it from their Commander’s stories. Many of them had hands placed on the hilts of their swords, just in case something unexpected happened. Still, when the gate opened, they stood still and waited for the faerie to make the first move.
‘Oh, it’s you!’ The faerie at the gate fluttered their filigree wings, recognising the imposing silhouette of the Virtue. ‘The king has been awaiting your return.’
Salt ignored the whispers behind his back that arose after that sentence.
‘We have several injured soldiers… We were wondering if your healers could be of assistance.’ He waited through the thought-laden silence; he was well aware of how secluded the faerie realm was from other cookies. However, he still had brittle hope that his presence could sway the faerie’s choice.
‘Very well. But we must ask you to leave all your weapons at the gate.’
Salt exhaled with relief, his tense shoulders resting for a moment, almost instantly straining again once the pain returned. He watched his soldiers hesitantly give up their weapons, which came down to quite a hefty pile. The injured were already being transported to the infirmary by slightly skittish faeries, and their horses taken to the stables to be cleaned and fed. Salt patted Nox on the side of his neck, signalling to the horse that he may leave him for a while.
Soon, it seemed he was left alone. The faeries around him gave him occasional glances, but none of them dared spark up conversation. He took that as a sign that he was free to wander off on his own, and began making his way to the palace at the center of the village, knowing that the only cookie he would allow himself to be healed by would be waiting inside.
The knock on the ornately carved silver gate echoed around the palace; Elder Faerie Cookie stood up from behind his desk, recognising the cadence and weight of the knock. He would greet the long-expected visitor himself.
Making his way through the breezy halls, made of twisting branches and vines, all silver, blue and grey, he reminisced on the last time he and Salt had met. They’d had quite a lovely tea party and got to catch up on all sorts of stories and troubles from their respective lands. He was getting excited about getting to repeat the experience, to be frank.
Suffice to say, opening the door brought about some surprise. Salt was leaning on the doorframe, visibly struggling to catch his breath. He was dusty and rugged, and jam was dripping from between his chestplate and left shoulder pad.
‘My dear… friend,’ Salt rasped out. Elder Faerie wasted no time. Allowing the — much taller and heavier — cookie to lean on him for support, he hurried them both to his bedroom. He knew Salt too well to naively assume he would let healers take care of him. He was far too stubborn for that.
Only once they made it to the bedroom, and Salt collapsed onto the bed — still careful as to not ruin the silk sheets with jam — did Elder Faerie speak up.
‘Every time you show up, it is a surprise. Today especially.’ He traced his thin, dark fingers along Salt’s armour. ‘I’ll need you to take it off. You need healing.’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Salt dismissively, although his tone was not at all convincing.
‘You always were a dreadful liar, dear.’ Elder Faerie leaned in lower, so that his face was right against the Virtue’s helmet. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen your face…’
That was all it took for Salt to relent. He let out a deep sigh and raised his hands to lift the heavy helmet off his face. He only managed to lift one hand though — the other caused him to groan in pain.
‘Allow me,’ said Elder Faerie, placing Salt’s hand back on the bed. Then, he carefully slid his helmet off and set it aside, marveling at all the Virtue’s features that he’d so greatly missed. His face was a pale shade of purple, lined with white scars that had healed over with tiny salt crystals. Long salt-and-pepper hair fell around his face and shoulders in stunning waves, bringing out his purplish-white eyes.
‘And here I thought I wasn’t easily persuaded,’ he said with a gentle smile.
‘So you once again missed something that was painfully obvious,’ replied Elder Faerie. He let his hand rest on the scarred and tired face of the Virtue for just a brief moment.
‘Let’s get you out of that armour. I don’t know how you even walk with those huge shoulder pads on.’
Salt of Solidarity chuckled, looking at Elder Faerie with a strange look in his eyes. He allowed the faerie to strip him of his armour — even the chestplate that contained his souljam — leaving him in the dark loincloth shirt and loose pants. He let out a sigh of relief, clearly exhausted after whatever battle left him injured so badly. Soon, however, it became clear that the shirt also had to go, as it was soaked in jam and covered up the injuries. And oh, Witches, was he injured. His left arm had been stabbed right above the armpit, to the point that Elder Faerie was wondering how Salt could move it at all. His chest was also bruised, and the breaths it let out were raspy and brief.
There was no time to get caught up in the shock or marvel at the view. Elder Faerie went over to the dresser and pulled out a disinfectant, clean water and some bandages from the first-aid kit.
‘The bandages are infused with a healing elixir, so it should help you get back into shape faster. But,’ he pointed out sternly, crossing his arms, ‘you shouldn’t move your left arm or overwork yourself for at least a week. In fact, I would recommend staying in bed for that time.’ As he said it, he began cleansing the wound with a gauze. He felt Salt flinch, and was pretty sure a sharp hiss left his mouth at the touch.
‘I’ve got responsibilities. I can’t just-’
‘That is not up for discussion,’ Elder Faerie cut him off. ‘You’ve been needing a rest for a while anyway.’
‘You don’t know that,’ grumbled Salt.
‘I know you well enough.’
He continued to wrap the bandages in silence. Neither him nor Salt said anything until the job was done and the wound was completely covered. Salt’s arm had also been put in a sling, despite his thorough protests.
‘Now, rest here for a while,’ said Elder Faerie. ‘Get some sleep.’
‘Only if you join me,’ the Virtue offered. Judging by his satisfied expression, Elder Faerie was blushing.
‘I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do,’ he started, taking a step back, but Salt grabbed him by the wrist.
‘You’re no better at lying than I am. Come, lay down.’
Elder Faerie sighed, shaking his head. He really should try being more assertive… but maybe some other time. He crawled into bed next to Salt, and, in a moment of audacity that surprised even him, slid his hand into Salt’s black-and-white hair. It was silky and soft, and smelled mainly of sweat, with a hint of burnt charcoal. Shockingly, Salt didn’t move away, instead melting into the touch with satisfaction. He looked Elder Faerie in the eyes and smiled.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said, scootching over to place a soft kiss on the other cookie’s forehead. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’
‘Let’s not think about that for now,’ said Elder Faerie, knowing he was blushing and not giving it a care in the world. ‘For now, we’re together.’