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chaosfairy18 · 2 months ago

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A fire inside us that won't stop burning

The clashes of swords and spears, metal against metal, the blazes of fire and explosions, the screams of foes and friends alike.

Bumlets wasn't faring well in the throes of war, just glad that as the court mage he wasn't expected or needed at the front lines, rather sending spells raining down from a vantage point, enchanting and cursing weapons or warding armour of soldiers or healing the wounded. But he still saw his share of mangled remains, smelt iron and burnt skin and couldn't keep track of his friends or partners.

He hadn't seen the King or the Captain of the guard for a long time, the latter being expected as Swifty had to lead soldiers into battle, even if not the first of the attack line never straying far from it, shouting orders and pulling people away from dangerous situations.

But Bumlets should have seen his King somewhere in the back of the lines where he himself was, and maybe he shouldn't be as worried, he had no right to be, not as just the court mage, but as a man he worried for the person he smiled at while waking up, the person that fell sleep in his arms, exhausted, after the weight on his shoulders wore him thin for the day.

And he also worried about the man that made him smile showing him flowers or pretty stones he found, that curled up in the sun in ridiculous places in the castle sometimes like a puppy, but he especially couldn't worry about Vincent fighting at the front lines when his worry for a partner and the worry for his King overlapped. There was only enough worry in his mind for one, he was worn thin enough as it was.

And it was his duty to care for his King.

"Maester Alejandro, come quick, it's the King-"

He was already running before the knave could finish his sentence. If he was called, it was looking grim, no help from a doctor to be expected to do anything. So he ran as fast as he could, to where two knights fought off anyone trying to get close to their clearly injured King. He had to bring him out of there.

"Come with me.", he ordered the knave, picking their King up and carrying him close to his chest, the knights covering their retreat. Bumlets only let him down once they had found a secluded part of a ruin, the corner protecting them from two sides and most of the way into their own territory.

He could see even with the armour that Skittery was hurt gravely, blood seeping from his chest, face pale and red around his mouth. If he didn't start soon, he would never make it.

"Secure the area, I need time to stabilize him.", he ordered the young boy, not even looking at him as he loosened the armour to properly access the wound. It was a grave injury, more than Bumlets had healed with magic in his life, but it would have to work. He would have to succeed, there was no other option.

Concentrating his magic, he started a spell, blue light mixed with specs of gold flowing from his hands into the wound. He slowly upped the strength, feeling his blood run hotter, his energy draining, but he had to succeed.

Going higher and higher, urging more of his trusted power into the body before him, he saw some of the wound closing, but not enough. Even if it already transformed to a pain in his head, his veins burning hotter the closer they were to his hands, to where he concentrated the magic, he had to continue.

Still, there was no sign of consciousness for his King.

There was no telling how long he'd been pouring all he had in, when his vision started to narrow, everything apart from Skittery's face blurring, his magic core in his chest aching, trying to flow magic instead of only drippling the meagre rest it must at that point be, the concentrated magical power now burning not just inside but his skin, his hands blistering and the skin breaking, the smell of burnt flesh once more present on this battlefield.

"It has to work, he has to live, I'll do whatever it takes, please.", he pleaded to whoever was willing to listen, whichever power might have mercy with him as he fought to keep his love from the forces of death. Death might be inevitable.

But it didn't have to happen today.

One last flaming hot surge of power went through him before he burnt out completely, leaving not just his own hands at ruin, but a faint blistering over the healed scar on the King's chest, finally closed and hopefully again with enough blood that he would make it.

"Michael? Mica, c-can you..." Bumlets fell forward, suddenly only embers of himself remaining, barely catching himself with his destroyed hands, biting his lip in pain and instead resting on his elbow, needing to hold on until he saw if it worked or not.

"Mica, wake up, please."

His own consciousness, maybe his entire lifeforce was fading, fire smouldering, but he needed to know.

Brown eyes fluttered open, breath shallow but there.

Bumlets didn't even hear his King ask what happened or call his name before he already collapsed, fingers and hands burnt, and eyes almost completely blue and golden, bloody tears having streamed down his face.

The only important thing was, that he’d survived. And with his duty fulfilled, there was nothing holding the mage afloat in the currents sweeping him into the darkness.

Ever since he'd heard the horns signalling the end of the fight, Swifty had one thought in his head: where were Michael and Alejandro?

He hadn't seen the King or Court Mage in a long time, but it wasn't unusual to not see them at the front lines. Still, he couldn't start searching for them right away, in absence of the King he was the highest authority, he had to organize the retreat, give orders of transporting the dead, help save what could be saved. His back and side hurt, but it didn't seem to be a major wound, so he just pushed on, giving answers and plans out, helping other knights get up and to the medics.

As it was mostly calm, he went to that tent himself, expecting Bumlets to be there, healing what he could, but the nervous face of his apprentice, Flipper, already told him that couldn't be the case.

"Sir Vincent, have you seen my Master, I can't find him and-"

"I need a medic, quickly, t-the King and the court mage-"

Swifty and Flipper both quickly looked at the knave running into the tent, worry evident on their faces.

Something big must have happened.

Swifty intercepted the knave and doctor as they ran out. "What happened to the King?" and mage

The knave sighed in relief, motioning for him to please join them. "Sir Vincent, I'm so glad you're here, we need to get the King transported, he was gravely injured, and I got Maester Alejandro to heal him, but I'm not sure if it worked and now the Wizard isn't... he isn't conscious, I didn't know what to do, so I got more help."

Skittery mortally wounded, Bumlets using an excessive amount of power to heal him... it felt like a nightmare come to life, but Swifty had to push on. They needed medical attention as soon as possible.

The sight was even worse than he'd imagined, Bumlets half laying on Skittery, blood running down his face and his veins almost seeming to faintly glow blue and golden, pulsating the closer they were to his hands.

And oh his hands... even from what he could see, one hand still by Skittery's chest where he could see the remnants of a nasty scar and slight burns, it looked like all fingers and the flesh of his hand were burnt, skin having cracked and almost burst open to let out all the power he must have poured into their King's body for even the sliver of a hope to save him.

And at least for now he could hope that it worked, seeing Skittery's chest rise slightly and his half-lidded eyes trying to focus on them.

"S' Vincent-"

"It's okay your highness, we'll bring you to the infirmary tent as soon as you've been looked over.", he said quietly, hoping to bring attention to the fact they weren't alone and that the others would only assume he'd been addressed by his title and nothing more familiar.

So the medic could have access to their King, Swifty carefully lifted Bumlets off him, finding his heart weakly beating and breaths coming out of his mouth. At least he hadn't died at the ritual, even if it seemed to be a close call. Far too close for comfort.

Swifty attempted to at least clean him off the blood in his face while the others were distracted, wanting to give some comfort to his lover even if he couldn't show more. It hurt him and Swifty didn't know what he should think or do, this wasn't anything at all he could help with and he didn't know how to act, what could he do to help him, would he even wake up-

"Sir Vincent, can you carry his highness? With the rest of his armour on we can't move him properly and he needs to be transported as soon as possible.", the medic half ordered of him. Skittery's quiet pleads helped his decision too.

"I can, but we also need to take the mage, this doesn't look good."

The knave nodded, doing his best to pick up Bumlets, even if not in a near as comfortable carrying position as Swifty did with the King. Well, at least Bumlets was unconscious and hopefully wouldn't notice.

With Skittery in his arms, Swifty felt more grounded again, holding him a bit closer than he needed to, moving his thumb reassuringly against his love's arm. The warmth he felt meant to calm him as much as it did Swifty himself. Both men could have been cold and lifeless when he'd found them, and he wouldn't even have known to help them.

Sure, there were no indicators, but the King must have been injured somewhere near the fight, Swifty should have been there to protect him, to stop the need of magic healing him at all, and yet… it seemed he’d only managed to protect Skittery when he was still a prince, mostly hidden from the world and even later when they’d challenged his father, but there was no guaranteed protection he could still give him, no matter how much he wanted to.

It ate him up that he had no power to do anything, to preserve the lights of his life, the sight of Alejandro concentrating on a book or brewing a potion, brows slightly scrunched together and mouth twitching when he went over an ingredient he didn't like to prepare. Or Mica sending him an annoyed look between political inquiries, needing a short hug in the few seconds they could sometimes be alone between rooms, needing to recharge just the slightest bit to hold on to his duties.

But he'd have to trust that they were strong enough to hold on, and that they could be helped.

tags for who said they wanted to see it, I hope that's okay: @thatoneandlonelyemo2005, @bumlets-appreciation-blog, @what-the-newsies

#newsies #newsies 1992 #1992 newsies #92sies #bumlets newsies #skittery newsies #swifty newsies #bumswiftery newsies #bumswiftery #my writing #angst #medieval au #magic #I do hope you guys liked it!#mostly wrote it for Mack but also it has been Haunting me #Magical Exhaustion is such an interesting concept you know?

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