#I mean that's probably not the spirit of the wij prompt but

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Replacement

Thorns & Jasmine

In which there's a small setback because I forgot to make up a reason why his eyes are white.

Warnings: Some not too graphic (?) eye gore, I mean, if you’ve been along for the ride, you know what happened, and if not, I’m not sure how much sense it makes. Anyway, eyes go *gestures vaguely*

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write this, but then my BTHB came along, so I decided - why not. This is also very fitting for the WiJ “Free Choice” prompt, because someone does have a choice here, hehe.

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Breannan strolled over the platform, a container of ink and a fresh loaf of bread in his basket. It was… nice to be out again. Not that he could push the thought of his friend, alone at his house, fully aside. But Caldyn was doing better. With each of Gwyneth’s visits, he healed a bit more, and with the little dog at his side, he seemed to be less afraid. For the last few days they had agreed that Breannan could leave for a bit, to pick up food and whatever else he might need. That way Corrie didn’t have to come by every day. They still visited ever so often, sharing gossip and checking in on him, but he didn’t need them to get everything for him anymore. 

He still tried not to stay away too long, usually picking up food from the nearest locations — not the platforms full of stalls offering it, but scattered ones in other, closer areas. Today it had taken a bit longer, because he had needed fresh ink, and there really was no way to get ink anywhere close. But it was a beautiful, sunny day, and Caldyn had told him to take his time, smiling as he had listened to Breannan searching for his misplaced basket.

Perhaps, in a week or two, he would be able to resume some of his lectures. Only the afternoon ones, and only a few times per month, but he missed his students. That would keep him out of the house for longer though, and he wasn’t yet willing to leave Caldyn alone for a longer time. It was hard to let go of his worry, even if it was unfounded. They were as safe as anyone could be, here in the heart of their home. As time passed, he’d get more comfortable with it, Breannan was sure of it. As soon as he had reached his platform, he picked up speed, entering his home a few minutes later. 

“I’m back,” he called out, walking to the shelf to put the ink away. There was no reply. Perhaps Caldyn had fallen asleep again? Breannan listened, then turned around to put the basket on the table. The bread could stay in there for now. Perhaps they’d try it later, perhaps not; they had already eaten in the morning, and Caldyn’s appetite was still rather small. 

The moment he entered the study room, Breannan realized something was off. Caldyn’s bed was empty, a puddle of water in front of it, from where the bucket had been toppled over. Some of the water had soaked the sheets as well. Breannan’s gaze darted across the room, finding Caldyn in the far corner of it. He was lying curled up on the floor, trembling, his head hidden beneath his arms. Around him were some scattered trinkets, probably fallen out of the shelf behind Caldyn.

Breannan suppressed his first instinct to run to his friend, looking around instead; even turning around to peer back into the room he had come from. There was no danger. In fact, everything looked completely normal. Not even the little dog was anywhere to be found, Breannan realized after a moment.

“Caldyn?” he called as he carefully took one step into the study room.

There was no reply.

“It’s me. It’s me. I’m coming closer,” he kept talking as he approached. So Caldyn would know it was him. So Breannan could hear his own voice, leaving less room for his thoughts running wild. Something must have happened. His friend had been doing so well. Breannan couldn’t stop himself from casting another glance over his shoulder as he walked across the room.

“Caldyn?” he asked again. “Can you hear me?”

He either couldn’t hear him, or didn’t manage to react. In front of him, Breannan stopped. Should he touch him? Would it make everything worse? When he was caught in something like that, he couldn’t stand to be touched, but Caldyn had always tried to be close to him, no matter how bad his panic. Expecting the worst, Breannan reached for Caldyn’s shoulder.

“Caldyn?”

Getting no reaction was not what he had hoped for, but better than what he had feared. He pulled his hand back, looking around once more. Could it have been a nightmare? Something must have caused this, but there was nothing out of the ordinary here. Whatever it had been, he’d have to make sure it was gone, but how should he? Slowly, he walked over to the bed, examining each step along the way. There was nothing, until his toes reached the spot where the floor was wet. 

Next to the puddle of water was what looked like an orange pile of… Breannan took a moment to recognize the color as the one of the fruits they had shared for breakfast. He grimaced, turning to the side, his gaze wandering over the empty bowl and the bucket he grabbed to put it upright. Next to it lay something he didn’t recognize. It was a weird, round thing. Mostly green, but wrinkly and dark on one side. Breannan reached for it, picked it up — and dropped it instantly, almost emptying his own stomach as well.

“Blight.”

He ran back to Caldyn, dropping to his knees next to him. Breannan had to pause, to take a few breaths, not half as deep as he had hoped, in the fruitless attempt to keep his hands from shaking. He had picked up his friend’s eye. No amount of calming exercise could make this horror go away. He had to keep it together. Had to find out how bad it was. How badly Caldyn was hurt.

There was no reaction as Breannan reached for his hands, pulling them down, turning him around. Where Caldyn’s left eye had been was nothing but a hole, and a few withered vines, hanging out of it. He stared at it, and the other one, looking so open wide. Always so terribly open with the missing eyelids.

“Caldyn. Can you hear me?” There was no reaction. It took Breannan a moment to realize that Caldyn had stopped shaking. It was the trembling of his own hands he felt, getting stronger as his friend didn’t react at all. “Caldyn? Caldyn, please wake up.”

Tears ran down his face as he pressed Caldyn against his chest, holding him, rocking him. He couldn’t have said how much time passed, how often he whispered his friend’s name, not getting any reaction. Staring at the back of Caldyn’s head, he tried and failed to think. He had to do something, but anything he could have done would have required letting go of Caldyn. He couldn’t, clinging to him as if he could vanish any moment. 

“Hey, Breannan? I know I was here yesterday, but you won’t believe what—”

“Corrie?” he asked in a whisper, not even hearing what he would not believe. Then, shouting, “Corrie, please. I need your help.”

He barely dared to look up as their footsteps approached, still staring at the back of his friend’s head, pressed against his chest.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I need Gwyneth. The healer. Can you get her? She’s…” Would she even be at the healer’s house today, or would she have a night shift? But even if she’d be at home, Breannan didn’t know where that was. “At the healer’s house. The blue one. Do you know where that is?”

He had been there only once. While he remembered the way, for the most part, he didn’t even know how to start putting it into words.

“Yes. I know. I’ll get her. Breannan…” The worry behind Corrie’s words was almost graspable. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes.” Why did they even waste time asking? It wasn’t him who needed help! “Please, go. Go!”

Corrie sighed, but they left, walking quickly. Breannan wished they’d run, wished they’d be back already. “It’s gonna be alright,” he whispered, knowing Caldyn most likely wouldn’t even hear it.

What felt like hours later, but probably was barely a quarter of one, footsteps sounded again.

“Breannan? What happened?”

This time he did look up, finding Gwyneth in the middle of the room. She was holding a bag in both hands and failing to keep a professional look on her face. Breannan gestured her to come closer, with his head only, not daring to let go of Caldyn.

“His eyes,” he whispered as she crouched down next to them. “Something. Happened. One is… it’s over there. I wasn’t here. I didn’t see what happened, I don’t know— I don’t know what happened.” Breannan only stopped because he ran out of breath to say anything else. 

Gwyneth’s gaze wandered to the bed and the mess in front of it. It was unlikely she’d be able to see it from here, but it was probably unnecessary. “Can I see?” she asked, reaching out, but not touching Caldyn yet.

“I don’t know,” Breannan repeated. “He’s not… I found him like this and he… he doesn’t react, doesn’t…” 

Instead of saying anything, Gwyneth put her hands next to his, touching the back of Caldyn’s head. While she focused on her magic, Breannan stared straight ahead. If only he had been here. If only he could have done anything. If only—

“Breannan. Hey, look at me. Look at me.” Only when he did so did she continue talking. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s not bad. No, listen,” she quickly added when he opened his mouth. “I can’t imagine how wrong it feels, that’s probably why he’s like that.” The expression on her face suggested that she might have tried to imagine it after all. “But the injury isn’t bad. His eyes were already gone. I’ll have to do something about it, obviously, but first I need you to calm down. He’s gonna be alright.”

Breannan stared at her, turning her words over in his head. Alright. Caldyn would be alright. He didn’t know how that could be possible, but he trusted her. Had to trust her. Closing his eyes, Breannan tried to take deep breaths, each one a bit less shaky than the previous one. 

“That’s right. He’ll be fine.” As she spoke, Gwyneth put her hand on Breannan’s, and he pulled back hastily. “I’m sorry, I forgot. Do you… do you want to know what happened?” she asked hesitatingly.

Against better judgment, Breannan nodded.

“His eyes are… well, were nothing more than dead tissue,” she started, her voice steady despite the grim topic. “The fire destroyed them. But the vines holding them weren’t, and without the eyelids, they started to dry up. The other one will follow soon, in a day or two if I don’t remove it as well; which I will.”

Breannan couldn’t help but flinch at her words. If she saw it, she ignored it, continuing with her explanation.

“I’m not entirely sure what to do after. We could leave the sockets like that, but he’d have to be very careful with them. And… I don’t think he’d appreciate the feeling much. He might get used to it, but… There is something I’ve been thinking about. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, and I had hoped I’d have more time.” She paused, looking from Breannan to her hand, spreading her fingers. “You know, when someone loses a limb, they sometimes pick up a prosthesis. Some are carved or something, but most are grown. They’re attached with… well whatever, that doesn’t matter.”

She was speaking slowly enough to give Breannan time to ask, “You mean a shaper could grow a third arm or something like that?” No matter how worried Breannan was about his friend, this idea alarmed him.

“No. Not like that. They grow them from normal plants. Not kalani. Only we healers can use our magic on kalani, and we cannot shape." She sighed. “They grow a piece of wood that looks like a hand or foot, and attach it — mechanically, not with magic. It might have to be replaced at some point, if it’s worn.”

“So you… what? Wanted to get him a grown eye or something?” Breannan asked when Gwyneth didn’t continue. “Just… put it in there?”

“It sounds weird when you put it like this, but… that was one option, yes. Though so far my research has not given me great results about what material would be best. Unlike limbs, probably not wood.” Gwyneth took a deep breath. “The other… we can’t shape, but we can mend injured tissue in more than one way. I believe it should be possible for me to fill the sockets with what would basically be scar tissue. It wouldn’t look like eyes, but it would prevent any harm from coming to his sockets. It could probably stay like that indefinitely.” She hesitated, casting a glance towards Caldyn’s bed. “It would work now, because this is fresh. I need some kind of wound to work with.”

The implication was clear. It would work later, but then she’d probably have to cause that wound herself. The thought made Breannan shudder.

“I’m not sure how it would feel. If it would feel natural, if any of this would. I wanted to ask him what he’d prefer, but… by the tree, how should I have asked?”

That was a question Breannan had no answer for. “So what are we gonna do now?” he asked instead. 

“We can’t leave it like that,” Gwyneth said decidedly. “And I’m not sure if he’s in a state to decide, even if we wait for him to wake up. I obviously don’t have anything like spare eyes with me,” she said, a hint of desperate meaning flickering behind her words. “I mean, who would. But I need to do something about those vines.”

She looked at Caldyn, waiting quietly, as if hoping he’d wake up and take that decision away from them. He didn’t. “You know him better than anyone,” she whispered. “What do you think he’d want?”

Breannan closed his eyes, holding Caldyn a bit tighter. “I think he wants… he needs to be done with it. The healing and the… everything,” he said, suppressing his words’ meaning. He knew Caldyn was grateful that Gwyneth still came back; he himself was, indefinitely grateful. At the same time, all the touches, tracing those terrible wounds, and the pain when the hardened bark slowly mended, it was all too much. The thought that they’d continue on his eyes, prodding and fitting something in, was almost enough to let him decide. Still…

“This… this scar tissue. Would it be possible to remove it? If he wants something else,” he asked.

“Yes. I would assume it would be as unpleasant as creating it later would be.”

Breannan nodded. “Then do it. 

Even if Caldyn would decide on something else later, that wouldn’t be anytime soon. And until then, if this worked, it would give him some peace.

“Alright. Can you hold him so he faces me?”

Breannan nodded again, leaning against the wall and pulling Caldyn onto his legs. Holding his head, so he was facing Gwyneth, Breannan swallowed. The withered, brown tendrils hanging where his friend’s eye should be made him feel sick.

“I’ll start. Perhaps you should not watch,” Gwyneth said. She had moved closer and was holding something in her hand, something sharp, something… Breannan did not want to see. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, absentmindedly brushing his fingers through Caldyn’s branchy hair.

For a while, there was only silence. Silence and the impression of movement close to him. Silence and the occasional noise that wasn’t silence, but so quiet, it was easy to ignore. Ignore, not imagining what Gwyneth might be doing that very moment. Not wondering what exactly had happened, if it had just fallen off like that. He was definitely not wondering about that, not at all.

When Caldyn stirred, it was a relief as much as a reason to worry. Gwyneth wasn’t done yet, hadn’t even started on the second eye. Breannan hoped she’d be able to finish her work. For now, she pulled her hands back.

“Bren… Breannan. Why… I had a dream. My… my eye… it was— it.” Caldyn gasped for air, struggling to get his left hand up. It was tangled in Breannan’s petals, and before Caldyn could free it and lift it to his face, Breannan caught it and held it.

“It’s alright. Gwyneth is here. She’ll take care of it.”

“Hey, Caldyn,” Gwyneth said, her hands resting in her lap.

“Gwyneth? Is it… evening?”

“No. Not yet. I came a bit earlier today.” Her tone and meaning were calming. “I heard you had a… nightmare,” she spoke slowly, “and I came to check on you.”

“Night… mare.” Caldyn tried to move his hand again. This time Breannan let him. Caldyn’s fingers were trembling as he touched the charred bark, not daring to get too close to his eye. He turned his head, to the side and back, swallowing. “You… you fixed it. Thank you. Thank…” His hand dropped. “Sorry. ‘m tired.”

“It’s alright.” Breannan reached for Caldyn’s hand, pulling it back close to his chest. “You can rest. We’ll take care of it.”

“Take… care.” Caldyn’s slurred words were hard to make out. “Will you… fix the other, too?” 

“Yes. I will.” Gwyneth raised her hand to his forehead, stroking it. “Don’t worry. Sleep.”

It took mere seconds for Caldyn’s body to go limp. Breannan cast a worried glance at Gwyneth, but she was already reaching for her tool again.

“It was the right decision, Breannan,” she said, looking up with a sad smile. “His mind is trying to protect him. Not having to deal with that anytime soon, if at all, is for the best. And it seems to feel right to him, so now I’ll take care of the other one as well. You should…”

“Yes,” he said quickly, closing his eyes, leaning back once more.

While Gwyneth worked, he found himself becoming calmer than he had been before. Despite knowing what she was doing at this very moment, he managed to think of something else. Something positive. Like which book he would pick to read to Caldyn later in the evening, as he so often did before he went into his bedroom for the night.

“I’m done.”

Breannan slowly opened his eyes. Earlier he had been too distracted by Caldyn’s awakening to pay much attention to what Gwyneth had done. Now he sat up straight, taking a deep breath before daring to look.

Despite Gwyneth’s words, what she had formed did look like eyes, in a way. The only difference was that they were white; colorless, rather, like the inside of a soft root that had never seen the sun. It was less unsettling than the charred bark around them. And if Caldyn’s earlier reaction was any indication, it didn’t seem to cause him any pain, perhaps not even discomfort. That was certainly more than he could say about some of his other injuries.

“Thank you.” Breannan managed a smile; shaky, but genuine. “Really, thank you. I was… I didn’t know what to do.”

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for.” She returned his smile, looking more tired than anything else. “Perhaps not exactly that. I’m just glad it worked. I’d like to stay and wait how he reacts, but I’m not sure he’ll wake up anytime soon. I will fall asleep any moment though, so I’ll have to get home.”

“Are you alright?” On second glance, Breannan realized with worry, she looked more than tired. “Should I…” He faltered. He’d like to offer to bring her home, but he didn’t want to leave Caldyn alone.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go home and sleep. You need to stay with him. I’m not sure what he will remember when he wakes up, or how he will react. He shouldn’t be alone.”

Breannan nodded. “I will. Thank you.” 

He watched her get up, steadying herself against the shelf for a moment. Then she picked up her bag, smiled once more and left, her steps a little bit slower than usual.

Breannan waited until they had faded, then he leaned against the wall. He wished he had some of the blankets in reach, regretting briefly that he hadn’t asked Gwyneth to hand him one. It couldn’t be very comfortable for Caldyn like that, but there was nothing he could do about it, not if he didn’t want to let him go. And he couldn’t, not yet.

Perhaps in a bit; when Caldyn would wake up, when he would talk to him. When he would tell Breannan that he was fine, even if he wasn’t, and would decline when Breannan would ask him if he was hungry. Then Breannan would have to let go, to clean up Caldyn’s bed, and fetch some water, for his friend would surely be thirsty. He’d have to grab the book as well, the one he had thought about earlier. He’d do all of that, as soon as Caldyn would wake up. As soon as he knew Caldyn was truly alright.

It felt like hours later, but the light outside the window was still bright when Caldyn stirred, making it early afternoon at best. He lifted his hand, feeling Breannan’s petals and finding his arm, resting there. Breannan closed his fingers around his friend’s.

“Breannan?” Caldyn’s voice was sleepy, but calm. “I had… a strange dream.”

Aaaaand this one is the last entry for his recovery arc. With the next part, we’ll finally be dragging Lily into this mess :)

Also, please blame any anatomical inaccuracies on the fact that he is a plant. Thanks. And in case you were wondering, the dog got scared and went to hide.

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