makinglies | Respite

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faerun

Respite

The lake is dark and calm with a small breeze by the time they arrive at its shores. The stars above reflect perfectly in the still waters before them, and a small copse of trees lines one side, starting on their side of the river and jumping along the other side.

Chris takes a moment to re-prepare the spell he hadn't been able to cast in five years and gestures vaguely to the area around them as a suggestion for what the others can do. Gathering in the forest, sitting on a nearby over-turned log, it didn't matter to him. What he needed was an hour without interruption.

He settles down on the ground and presses his hands together as he closes his eyes to focus on the image in his mind. Within minutes, the white, shimmering outline of a large building forms in thin air. The gentle glow of its light barely spreads from the growing structure.

As promised, it takes the full hour before the slowly filling-in form is complete and finishes with a jaunty, echoing click.

Chris takes a breath, now sitting in front of the stoop that looks annoyingly like the one he'd passed earlier in the night, and gets back onto stiff legs as the glow fades away, leaving smooth, but otherwise unremarkable, white stone behind.

"Here we are. Home for the next however long we need. I'll start working on food and water next." Once they're inside, anyway, which is why he takes back his things from where he'd left them and leads them into the temple, marked only with the carving of ravens on the black wood of the double doors.

Inside is something just shy of opulence. The same polished white stone makes the walls, though black and gold veins course through the marble. The floor is the inverse, a black stone with white, shimmering speckles like a night sky if looked at for long enough. A single window faced East high up on the wall. The temple was alight with sconces at regular intervals along the walls, illuminating an open area that held all the offerings of comfort Chris could think of.

A large hot-springs-like bath, complete with a miniature waterfall, took up the left side of the room and ran into a smaller, similar bath at dog-height. Next to it, covered by a retractable screen, was a shower. Along the back wall, a raven's head emblazoned the white wall in black and watched out over a set of tables, chairs, and a couple of sofas. The majority of the center was clear for walking, but the right edge and right side of the room held a deeply inset pit of pillows, cushions, and blankets in various soft (black and purple) fabrics.

Finally, in the middle of the right-hand wall, there were two closed doors that, when inspected, revealed one room with a large, soft chair and rug, while the other room was made of nothing but stone with jars, pitchers, and plates on shelves along two walls and a cork wall perfect for catching daggers on the other side.

"I hope it works for everyone. I didn't...I didn't make separate bedrooms this time. I didn't figure we would need them tonight."

♥

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She's on the edge of telling him the many reasons to wait when he tells her again that he loves the mess that she is. The truth of who and what she is at her simplest. Not a complicated lattice of sharp blades and hard edges to protect a soft core; just a mess that doesn't know what to do about most things in her life.

Why that is what makes her break again doesn't matter. The tears come fast as her face scrunches and she all but throws herself into him, one hand still clutching his because she can't let that sort of contact go. She needs to feel the strength and calluses of his hands as she cries for everything that's happened since Wolfe got up to make coffee and disappeared from her life until now. Delivering his letters. Closing the doors of her businesses for a time. The overwhelming support, including Krem breaking into the house to look in on her. The attack on the Creator's mansion and the punishment that followed. Going to the SLUT Center and the dreamsforsaken network post that came from it. All her fights with Chris. Their fight to get out of Duplicity. The shock of learning they're mere copies of who they believed they were. The destruction of Melvaunt. The oppressing weight of everything.

Wolfe, in her arms and returned to them exactly as he was when she last saw him.

There's so much to answer for from that time apart. Things she didn't deal with in Duplicity because she couldn't with her heart in pieces and then was out of time. Everything she's done to Chris in her efforts to protect him that were completely counterproductive. What she chose to do and let happen to herself because her grief was so loud she couldn't hear herself breathe.

And now there's this new truth, causing a shift in her reality that she doesn't know how to deal with. She can't do it all, but she has to. She needs to, for all of them, including herself.

"I'm sorry." For everything. For nothing. For being herself. For not being enough. For being too much. He's going to chide her for it and she knows that, but it has to be said. She needs him to know that she's truly, deeply sorry for far too much to list it all.

Her sobs are likely loud enough to be heard through the door and the mess that she is doesn't care. She will later, there's no doubt in her mind about that, but the safest arms she knows are around her and while she's too weak to speak on any of what's in her heart and mind, this is how it has to come out.

Chris nods when Jon says they’re all the loud ones here right now and pours his boyfriend his tea. That made sense, they were all scared right now and still close enough to a site of great devastation to be tasted; Jon’s abilities were likely on high alert. He should offer the Eye something. Maybe later or tomorrow.

He hands the cup to Jon and leans in to kiss him.

“Of course, I want to hear it.” Not entirely true, but not entirely a lie. He doesn’t know if he wants to hear his people’s suffering when there’s nothing he can do, but part of him needs to know. He wants to hear what haunts the people who will make Deismyr.

“Don’t forget to take your clothes too…unless you want me to keep you warm later.”

He means it innocently, but the salacious smirk he puts on certainly doesn’t help.

It’s meant to be a playful parting, something a little softer between them to soothe and fortify as he can. For them both.

He’s got three cups of tea precariously held when he pauses by the door. He can hear Amelia’s pain…and he takes a deep breath to keep hold of that fortification for himself. It wouldn’t help her to get his emotions involved, it almost always made it worse, in fact.

Thaumaturgy sees the door gently opened for him and he slips in as quietly as he can to deliver cups of tea where they can wait until wanted.

“That’s half your sorry quota, I’m afraid. Think wisely for the final one for the day.”

The way Amelia trembles against him, how she crumples loosely but still holds his hand in hers between them so tightly he can feel every shuddering breath and erratic beat of her heart, has tears threatening the corners of his eyes as well. They don't fall, mostly because they're tiny little prickles made of what dregs are left of what he'd bled out earlier, but the way he's made Amelia cry again is not lost on him. It was intentional this time, but how much had she cried when he was gone? How many holes did she leave in the walls of Shadows Rest? How many SIN guard died for his absence?

He should be worried about that, but honestly... he's only sorry he was ever parted from her, and selfishly flattered by how hard his loss hit her. It's a stupid thing to feel but he doesn't have the will to even chastise himself for it. Not when he has her back now and will never lose her again.

He starts to reply to her apology, not a chastisement but a soft acceptance so they can move on from it, but Chris comes in the door with tea, offering a gentle joking reply of his own. It makes Wolfe smile. Whatever fight they were having must not have been so far beyond the pale that Chris can't set it aside.

"Thank you, Love," he says with warmth in his voice and in his eyes. He opts to wait to take his cup so he can offer an arm to Chris instead, his other remaining tightly in their rogue's grasp.

Edited (pickles. ) 2025-10-10 05:49 (UTC)

She starts at the sound of Chris's voice, eyes wide as she stands taller in front of Wolfe.

No no no no not yet. What if I say the wrong thing again? What if she breaks them? What happens when this all falls apart because of her?

When... Dreams, when.It's always a matter of when.

"I--" She almost apologizes out of habit, a reflex with Chris that's so necessary it aches. The realization makes her hurt all over again and has her face pressed to Wolfe's chest as she cries harder. It shouldn't be like this. She knows better and she should be better by now. For all of them but especially for their cleric. Why can't she be better? They have Wolfe again, why isn't that enough?

Because all improvement takes time. Even if she wanted to snap her fingers and force the change, it won't happen without work. She knows this. She's been trying long enough to know how painful that truth is.

Words aren't going to help here and even if they would, she can't find them. Rather than try, she shifts her weight to steady herself and then reaches out to Chris. Her fingers trace down the outside of his arm from shoulder to elbow, then lift to ghost across his cheek. Glassy hazel eyes meet his green as she timidly rests her hand on his face then quickly retreat to his neck, as if she's scared of the touch. She pleads with him without speaking, lifting herself closer so she might press her forehead to his, if he'll allow it.

Stay with me. Please. I'm sorry for all I've done.

Jon scoffs at the innuendo as he goes to fetch his bag and squirrel it away under the blanket before he heads for the quiet room. It’s… physically quiet, anyway. He can sense the others nearby, Little Thunder, Poppet, and the girls with their simpler fears. And there’s so much in the world beyond, a cornucopia of horrors he’s never seen or dreamed of, nor the Eye.

Once he’s dressed, he settles on the sofa and pulls out a tape recorder along with several labeled tapes. “Ava 1” goes into the player. It’s the oldest one he has, the one that holds the greatest shame and the deepest hurt.

Ava’s voice fills the room, his chest aches, his jaw tightens, and his eyes burn as he sits unblinking, listening.

“Roberts. Ava Roberts. I'm not from this year. For me, it's 2004, October. I died...I guess it was seventeen days ago now, since I've been here for a little bit…”

Ava Roberts, the version he knew, his first friend in Duplicity, is dead. Worse, sacrificed to some horrific entity that ate her essence, destroyed the woman she’d become. It had happened to all of them.

As he listens, he pulls out Chris’ notebook and begins to write names. Every name he can think of, every person he’d known there and disappeared. It won’t help, but they won’t be forgotten.

It suddenly feels a little too much, just as it had in the shower. Wolfe's open arm is enticing in a way that scares him. Amelia's tears and touch, too, feel like a siren's call he can't afford to heed, and it makes something in his stomach lurch. Jon needed his space or he'd just go back out to him...but he also wouldn't -couldn't- retreat when his other two people were reaching for him like this. Like they needed him too.

'But when will it hurt again? When do they leave him behind?'

It's a ringing moment of clarity, even as he's pushing aside his own hesitation and instinct to physically lock up to step into their holds. If they needed him, he'd be there, like when Amelia had needed holding after her idiotic decision. Neither of them had any words at the time; she'd promised to say nothing, and he'd taken her up on it even as it scratched at him. He'd offered the same, not trusting his own voice or ability to be kind in the moment...but she'd needed him, so he'd been there.

He was here now, even as something old and selfish and scared cried out in him and made him want to keep his distance. Insidious wonderings shifted in his mind: when would they stop asking him his thoughts? When would they stop considering him? When would they leave next? Amelia already had; her actions back in the city spoke plainly of no interest in keeping Chris or herself in her heart when things got hard. And, even if it wasn't his fault, Wolfe had vanished. He'd left, and Chris had grieved, and part of him wasn't ready to open the door he'd never wanted closed in the first place.

It was like Kallian all over again...except Chris had eight years for that loss and pain to dull enough for trepidatious happiness to overtake anything else in their reunion. There'd only been a month for Wolfe. Which was good, he reminds himself. He didn't want that loss of time, especially what it would have meant; the alternative wasn't tenable, he was just being a child.

Yet, that was the source, wasn't it? It's a child's fear and cold, sinking, feeling of loss and abandonment he tries to chase away now.

It makes him...less responsive on the outside than he should be as he joins them. He does as he should, he wraps arms around them both, holds them tight enough to bruise and presses kisses to her head and his jaw in absent habit, but he's not there, not entirely, and it's frustrating...probably not only for himself.

"I'm...I'm just trying to take care of you two. I promised...I'll do whatever's in my power to keep you both safe, whole, and together."

"We know you are," Wolfe replies immediately, guessing at far too much just from Chris' expression and mien, and mostly from having been pushed away twice now. Gently, but pushed all the same.

Chris is hurting.

It's not too far a leap of logic given the circumstances, but Wolfe still keeps it in mind in a way that he keeps the states of each one of his loves in mind at all times. There's something specific in how he sets his mouth, how he pauses in his speech, and how fiercely he declares that he'll keep them together. He'll take care of them.

"We'll take care of you too, my heart. I've the strength to prop you both up tonight, and tomorrow it may be you're both keeping me standing, or us for Amelia, or all of us for Jon. I know we're not all going to be able at all times," he kisses Amelia's hand still in his to illustrate the point, then presses his forehead to both of theirs. "But I can't see anything tearing us apart now. My soul's thread is so knotted into yours it's impossible to untangle."

He lets that sink in for a moment, breathing a little labored for the wave of emotion that rocks him. It's laying it on a bit thick, and he knows it. He knows Chris will probably want to withdraw for too much too fast from both him and Amelia, but it seems urgent that he know that being king doesn't matter, that having a city doesn't matter. The loss of Chris' people is gutting, and the missing resources they'd planned on is certainly a problem they'll have to contend with, but the most important thing is that they are together.

"You are taking care of us." He gives a kiss to the bridge of Chris' nose and then withdraws a hairsbreadth, only far enough to give Chris the space he knows their partner will want when he's overwhelmed, but not so far as to give any doubt to where he wants to be. He's not going to budge until he's told. And even then maybe not. He's a stubborn sort. "Let us take care of you a little, too."

He only hopes that Chris will at least talk it out with him later, if he can't bring himself to do so with Amelia now.

You shouldn't have to hold me together. It feels like all I ever do is ask that of you.

The words get caught in her chest, trapped between soft sobs as she clings to the both of them. Wolfe is right about the way things are and will be, that they'll each have days where they need or can give support to the others in their group. Right now, she's in need of more support. The day has been so much that her thoughts are in a spiral, one she knows she can't fight when the smallest of pushes led to the state she's in now. She needs a safe place to fall apart, and this is it: Wolfe on one side, Chris on the other, all of them together with Jon only a short distance away in the temple the cleric created for them. This is the best place she can be.

"You've t-taken such care of me, even when I didn't deserve it. I want to do the same for you." The way she kept offering after Wolfe was taken and was never able to do for him. She wants it so badly, but... "I can't tonight, but I will. I promise."

Just another promise to break when you hurt him again, that. How long will until he wises up and cuts you loose?

The unbidden thought makes her clench her eyes tight as she breathes through the pain it drives through her heart. "This isn't-- it's not like before." She forces her eyes open to look up at Chris. "I'm not hiding this time. I'm not trying to pretend things are fine. They're not, not yet. I know I need this, so I-I... I'm asking, please... stay here with me, with us for a little while." Her breaths shake a little as she struggles against the urge to look away from him. "I don't want to hurt anymore. You help with that."

She's fucked up so many times, that last network post being the worst one yet. She hadn't had much time to think on it, but he'd spoken the truth: she'd wanted to hurt and she'd hurt him more by not speaking to him about her pain. Now that they've escaped that dreamsforsaken city and have their Wolfe back, she doesn't want it to happen again.

"I'm asking for your help so we can bear our burdens together when we're both strong enough." So she can find her footing and won't do to him as she's done dozens of times before. "Please... stay."

His mind clamps down on every assurance, some to keep and hold in a vice, and others to keep at arms' length...or at least breath's length. Until he can believe them. He knows they know he's trying. He knows Wolfe wants to be there for him and Amelia both. He knows Amelia can't possibly help him, not yet. He knows his and Wolfe's soul threads very well might not yet be tangled together, not now that he knows the truth of what they are...they might not even have any yet.

But they still make space for him. Amelia offers honesty he'd been wanting since Wolfe vanished, and he's lost too much in the last few hours to keep apart when they're both so godsdamned earnest in his face.

"I'll stay." It comes out quiet, but there's no one else who needs to hear it. He shifts so his fingers curl into her clothes against her back, and he kisses her forehead. "I'm here...and we'll get through this, whatever it looks like on the other side. This-" they "won't change. Except for the better." Now that they didn't have to live in the city or even be who they were, they could learn the rest together.

His other hand curls into claws at Wolfe's hip, and he'll look up to get a proper kiss when their mage allows.

"I'm sorry...my words are..." Failing him? fading? Paltry? He's not even sure. "It's been a long day."

"It's alright," Wolfe murmurs, his voice matching Chris' gentle volume but with encouragement and love. He's proud of them both for reaching out, even if it was with coaxing. Maybe someday they can do it on their own, but selfishly he's mollified that they still need him in a way that makes him feel so much like himself when what constitutes 'himself' has been brought into question.

The kiss he gives Chris is soft, but with a desperation roiling under the surface. The hand not in Amelia's goes to the back of Chris' neck, not clawing but heavy and grounding. He needs them and he knows they need him too. It's such a relief and he's missed them so much that once the tension has broken even this small amount between Chris and Amelia, Wolfe finds that need for them flooding his system even with how worn out he feels. He tries to ignore the physical part of it, knowing that's a taught reaction from the city, but the emotional? That's all him. That's always been him. And that's real. It's what this version of himself has that he doesn't share with the Adalwolfe Hawke that's still in Thedas; Chris and Amelia - and Jon, too - are his.

A little flushed, with an intensity that he's tried to keep down all evening, Wolfe fails at softness just for a moment in that kiss before pulling away, putting some bite in it. When he pulls himself away, his breath is harder than he'd like. He should apologize, but Chris won't want him to. Still, it comes out anyway, abashed at the carnal urge that came over him exactly when it wasn't his intention.

"Sorry. I-..." He actually blushes, mildly embarrassed, and decides to make a joke of it with a sheepish grin. "It's been a rough month."

There's barely space for her to huff an incredulous breath at Chris' apology before she's inevitably drawn closer by that kiss Wolfe pulls the cleric into. Her cheeks flush out of the suddenness of it, the heat she can see in Wolfe's expression, the wanting that's there. It's been so long since she was blessed with that sight and it stirs something that's been pushed down and dormant in her since finding the city's letter about the mage having 'gone home'. She doesn't want to feel it, thinks she shouldn't when that desire isn't directed at her, but it's traitorously there. The way it was only once in Wolfe's absence with yet another loose thread that will never be tied off.

She shivers and exhales slowly, breath shaking as she tries desperately to keep herself in check. Now's not the time to do anything reckless, not when she's finally managed something right with Chris. She could wait, even if she should say something about what she's feeling.

"It's been difficult for all of us," she chides, gentle but stern. There's no need for him to joke about this. "I haven't wanted to be with anyone since they took you. If this is what you want or need now, though..." She squeezes his hand gently. "I've missed you in every way, and I have more than enough strength to be with you."

Her eyes move to Chris as she brushes her thumb across his neck. "I'm scared after-- what happened, but this is something I want. With each of you, with both of you, when you're ready. It's been a long day, but if you want this," if she is wanted, "I would still choose this over rest."

Tonight is the worst idea for more reasons than she's willing to talk about right now. She hasn't admitted what happened to Wolfe yet and she's barely processed it herself after her fight with Chris. This should wait. It would be better for all of them if it did. But, dreams... dreams she's missed wanting the people she loves simply for them. If this is her chance to reclaim it, then she wants to reclaim it.

The kiss initially is grounding and settles some other piece in him. Eventually he’d find them all.

The heat and bite on the other hand jolts him and he returns it on instinct…but as quickly as the need stirs in him, it sputters out like a failed spark.

He hates this, hates when he gets like this, it feels…he feels bad looking at them both. He wants this, them…but not right now.

He looks down, face hot with shame even as he tries to smile to soften his own words.

“I’m sorry, loves, I think you’d find me a less than pleasing partner right now. I…when things are too…when I’m too in my head about everything, I can’t find the mood, not even were you to strip bare in front of me. Maybe after some sleep.”

His face feels like an inferno. He knows how ridiculous this sounds coming from him of all people.

“Kissing and holding would be nice, though…or I can leave if you need a moment…?”

"No, of course. I don't really-- I mean, I do, but I'm-- I don't think the smaller head should be doing the thinking right now. Especially not mine."

If Chris' face is heated, then Wolfe's is downright roasting. Its uncommon for him to blush, but he does so now, all across his face and down the back of his neck. He brings one hand up to cover what of his face he can while still being able to talk.

"There were a lot of aphros and I don't think they're entirely out of my system yet? And having been apart from both of you for so long, my body just reacted. I love you both, I do want you both!" He drops his hand and looks at Amelia specifically, since she'd been the one who warmed to the idea almost immediately. "But I want to find our footing first. You were just sobbing your heart out, Love."

He feels like that's a point that needs to be made.

"I think some cuddling and some sleep thereby would be best. Clearly we're all too exhausted to be making any choices." If the floor could open up and swallow him that would be great.

Edited (what even is my autocorrect) 2025-10-11 05:09 (UTC)

For once, she's not hurt by being turned down. She said it herself: it's been a long day. Just because they could doesn't mean they should, either. Wolfe has good points and Chris is right to listen to his heart and head. What's stirred in her is still there, but it's quiet enough to ignore with these assurances from her loves.

"Then we hold each other and all do our best to sleep." She smiles softly at both of them, the laughter she's holding back at the adorable blushing in her eyes. They each get a hand to their cheeks before she leans up to kiss each red face in turn. "We don't have to do anything we don't want to, tonight or ever. Our lives belong only to us and each other from now on."

There's so much to talk about, too. The whole of what Wolfe went through. Chris' troubles while the mage was locked away. Her reckless and stubborn choices that hurt so many.

Later. All later. Tonight is for rest and what comfort they can take.

"We should head to the pit of pillows to drink our tea and rest. Chris, can you show Wolfe his shirts? I'll grab my knives and follow." They'd be fine left in here, but she'll feel a lot better having them all within easy reach of where she rests her head. Just in case.

Before either of them move she adds, "I'm all right, I promise. If I was set on anything, I'd tell you both. There's no reason for me to hide anything from you." Not now and not ever again.

Chris nods to Amelia’s words and folds Wolfe’s away for later. He needed to press on that and know more…but not right this moment.

He takes Amelia’s hand and kisses the inside of her wrist then lets go in favor of taking up his cup of tea again. The others could get their own.

“Come on, love. Let’s figure out how to make you decent for one night at least.” Tomorrow he might need to get creative with pants or even simple cleaning charms, but for now they just needed to manage.

And end up in the pillow pit. Things would feel better then, he was sure.

"You two go on, I need to- I'll be on in a moment," Wolfe says, clearing his throat and holding the blanket around his waist in a tight grip. His flush still hasn't faded, even with their assurances, but he knows its out of reflex. He just now has to take care of said reflex, which is mildly frustrating when it came about because his body has now been conditioned to expect sex and the logical conclusion thereof from even a simple kiss. At least he knows he'll calm down after he takes care of it.

"Clothes would be lovely."

"I could--" Amelia cuts herself off from finishing her offer with a thoughtful frown. She could help him with this, be here for him so it feels less awkward when being close to them is what started this. It wouldn't bother her and would likely be a good reacquaintance for them even if only he came. But he's asked for space and given his desire for anything but since they walked into the temple, it's better to respect his wishes. Slowly, she nods and presses another kiss to his cheek on her way past him to retrieve her knives. Those in hand, she finds her cup of tea and gestures to Wolfe's mug.

"It's here when you're ready. We'll find you something to wear before then." Her expression warms into a small smile as she steps out of the room with Chris, fading with a heavy sigh once they're back to the tables and the pile of shirts they have for their mage.

"Dreams, I... I never thought sex would be the most awkward of our problems tonight." It makes sense, in a way her mind is vaguely able to acknowledge right now, but with all of them falling apart over larger revelations, this felt like one thing they wouldn't have to worry about. "Settling is going to take longer than I'd hoped with that conversation to have." A beat. "All those conversations. Another night... you and I should have one, too."

They have so much else to worry about and work out, but if they're going to have difficult conversations, they need to talk about sex between the two of them as well. She assumes it'll be even more rare than it was in Duplicity, though she can't be fully certain. Everything is new and different now that they're in Faerun; who's to say more can't change than she's expecting.

Chris shoots Wolfe a mixed look of sympathy and worry but doesn’t press when he heads back out into the main area.

He sets his tea by the pit and heads over to sort out Wolfe’s clothing. His pants are hung over the shower screen and his smalls gathered to hang slightly by the table. Chris sets the other shirts nearby, but puts the stupid howling wolf shirt on top.

“We will.” He assures her that first and foremost. “When we’ve both slept and ate. Maybe tomorrow or day after. I don’t want to rush anything either…other than needing a few things, we aren’t in much of a hurry.”

He sighs and turns to her properly.

“For now…it’s ok to focus on yourself and what you need. Please know I want that for you too…I need that for you.”

Which is part of why he’s not going to go collect Jon yet even though he wants to. He also needs to be patient. Keep busy.

"Chris..." She reaches for one of his hands with a gentle smile. "I'm still working out what I need. Having all of you here is the most important thing, sleep is next. And I can have that because you're all here." There's so much to be done, but it all waits for these two things. Sleep will help her regain her strength and pull herself together, but it's the people around her now, her new family, that will make it possible to not only survive but live.

"I promise you, I want nothing more tonight than to collapse into cuddle pile with our mage for as long as you're willing. And then I'm going to hold him so tight he'll have to peel me off in the morning." She chuckles softly and kisses the back of his hand. "I'll be all right, and I have you to thank for that. You brought us here, made us this temple, and helped me see what I was too stuck in my grief. I wouldn't be where I am without you, and I'm going to be certain we make it through this together. We take care of each other now, cleric, as we're able. Tonight you have me, and tomorrow... we'll see what comes."

She takes his hand and again, it focuses his attention from everything around them down to just her. To her earnest words that tug at his heart. The others would have loved her. Loved Wolfe…maybe even Jon, with time.

His eyes sting and he blinks the feeling away and brings her fingers to his lips.

She was right about one thing: they’re this far. Maybe she wouldn’t be his master rogue, Wolfe his lord of hounds, nor Jon his historian and archivist…but instead they’re just them. And he’s just him. Whoever that is.

“I hear you.” It comes out more rough than he intends, more wet, but he squeezes her fingers and turns to…do something. Anything but trail down that path of thought.

But gods, they would have loved his people.

He hears her, but it's too much right now. She understands all too well, and so she won't press. She leans up to kiss his cheek again, then sets aside her tea so she can drag her fingers down the outside of his arm from shoulder to elbow. Rather than try to find more words to reassure him, she falls back one what she knows will always help when they find their footing together for even a moment.

"I love you." She raises herself up to the balls of her feet to press her forehead to his. "I love you, and I promise that you are enough. You are what we need." Now and always, and she'll tell him every day for the rest of their lives if that's what he needs to rest easier at night.

About that time, Wolfe steps out of the wreck room and closes the door behind him quietly. He seems a bit more relaxed, if sheepish, as he joins them with tea in hand. He's also gratified to see his two loves getting along, as evidenced by his broad smile when he sees them so close.

"Did you want to get Jon so we can all get some sleep?" Wolfe asks, assuming his friend has disappeared into the other room for privacy when he doesn't see Jon out in the common area. Thinking Chris would probably want to do that, Wolfe grabs the shirt from the top of the pile and pulls it on. He keeps the blanket around his waist, though; there's no way his pants or small clothes are dry yet.

"We can get settled in the meantime," he directs at Amelia, deciding now definitively that he's too tired for food and just wants the weight of the people he loves on him before he goes to sleep. Someday he'll be hungry again. Probably in the morning.

Her words ease some things and share in others, but it’s overall helpful to hear. Helpful enough he sets the rest aside for now.

He couldn’t outrun the tears forever, but he could try his damndest until they caught him.

His hand finds a place at Amelia’s hip while she speaks assurances and soothing things to him and he gives her a squeeze, a quiet thank you as Wolfe steps out to return to them, though he adds a kiss to the corner of her mouth before pulling away.

“Yeah. Settle in, we’ll take our space around you.”

The pit was plenty big enough and piled still with several pillows and blankets for maximum comfort, he didn’t doubt the least they could do tonight would be sleep.

Chris heads for the other room, pauses outside to listen a moment, but then heads inside and closes the door behind him. He wasn’t exactly sure what state he’d find Jon in, but privacy would likely be appreciated regardless.

When Chris enters, he'll hear a man's voice. If his memory serves, he'll recognize Rafa's accent. "...chambers. I had to be escorted. I had never seen the inside of the castle, not like this. It was so...opulent, Jon. Full of gold, and jewels, and silks and velvets..." The recording continues as he describes being transformed into a vampire and being assaulted by his sire.

On the sofa, Jon has pulled up his sleeve and is writing names on his left hand and arm wherever there's room around his tattoos. He's breathing heavily, his eyes are fixed in the middle distance and glowing an eerie green. Chris' arrival garners no immediate reaction. Jon is lost in what he's doing.

The words on his arm are more names, and he digging into his skin to write them, going over them again and again, to ingrain them there and in his mind. The book hadn't been enough. What if that's taken away? He'd needed to put them somewhere that couldn't be removed.

Edited 2025-10-12 21:31 (UTC)

A smile starts to form when Chris kisses her and grows full when she turns to Wolfe, dressed in that ridiculous shirt of his and with his mug in hand. A shirt he's worn dozens of times and carefully washed and dried to keep it in good condition. A mug he insisted on using even when she had others that better held the heat of his tea or coffee. The way he looks between these two things tugs at 'normal' in her mind and she clings to it; something grounding while the rest of her life is still in upheaval. Even if he does look a little silly with a blanket tied around his waist.

"You in the center of us?" she asks, taking his free hand in hers as they step over to the pit. She pauses at the edge to sit down with her tea. Best to finish it now before taking off her knives and laying down. "I don't think Jon will want to hold your hand or curl against you, but I know he's missed you too. Being close to missed friends is helpful when you suddenly have them back."

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cw: link leads to an extremely dub-con situation; mild self-harm

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