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madam-whim · 2 years

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Ough, 20 or 22 <3

(for whichever pairing you'd like! As tbh idk which ones would make a funny height difference in stairs-)

I picked Naemon and Helcarion for this one!! Also, sadly, the actual kiss somehow ended up not being the most important thing, but the prompt fit so nicely into something I had already planned anyway, but never got around to writing until now!

Thank you for asking!!

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Naemon woke to the sound of crying.

That in itself was not unusual. With his recurring nightmares of his time in Coldharbour, it happened quite a lot. But this time was different – this time it wasn’t him crying, and that was cause for immediate concern, because it was a distinctly elven sound, not one a fledgeling gryphon could produce, which ruled out Belawel, still resting in his makeshift nest, and left only Helcarion.

Naemon was fully awake in an instant as dread settled in his stomach, and he grappled with the sheets for what felt like an eternity before he finally managed to untangle himself from the fabric to the point where he could sit up and turn to check on his husband. Summoning a magelight with a flick of his fingers, he tried to suppress the oncoming panic. Was Helcarion in pain? What if he was sick? Poisoned, perhaps? They had their fair share of enemies, after all, even here in Alinor… And Naemon was no healer, he had no idea what to do…

When the magelight finally allowed him a good look at his husband’s side of the bed, he found him curled in on himself, shaking and with tears running down his face even in his sleep. His heart nearly stopped – if whatever was ailing him was this bad, how was he supposed to help?

But then Helcarion sobbed and weakly muttered a few words that sounded like “Please… don’t…” and Naemon, startled, realized that his husband was simply dreaming.

It was a good thing insofar as it was hardly life-threatening, and the fear receded at least to a degree. It left him with only two options, though – he could let the nightmare run its course, hoping that it would fade away on its own, or he could attempt to wake Helcarion. He knew from experience though that the latter option came with undesirable consequences sometimes. He had almost broken Helcarion’s nose on one occasion, when the healer had tried to wake him from one of his Coldharbour Memories, as they had taken to calling them, and he had definitely hurt himself when he’d abruptly come out of a nightmare, too disoriented to understand where he was, trying to rip off chains that were no longer real. Knowing this, he hesitated – he had no desire to see his husband hurt because he woke him too quickly.

Only that Helcarion was already hurting right now, and Naemon could hardly stand it. “Wait… I can fix… I promise...” he muttered now, his hands grasping at thin air, as if trying to reach for something that was no longer there. Or someone, perhaps, Naemon thought. No matter which one it was, though, Helcarion should not have to go through this. He had to wake him somehow. “Hel?” he asked quietly, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. “No… no, please…” Helcarion whined, and Naemon had no idea if he’d even heard him.

He knew that sometimes, he’d hear Helcarion in his own nightmares. Once he was awake, he could never remember, but the healer had told him they had what could almost be called full conversations at times. Most of the time, he didn’t dare imagine the horrors he told his husband about, not even aware of when he was doing it. Now, though, he had no idea if Helcarion had been able to hear his words or even feel his presence, or if it was merely chance that he’d spoken right after Naemon had attempted to reach him.

“Darling?” Naemon tried again, his hands hovering uselessly over Helcarion’s shoulder. “Helcarion, you’re dreaming…”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, and then Helcarion gasped, almost sounding like he’d been physically hit, and then the sound turned into another sob, worse than the last. “Naemon, don’t…”

Whatever options Naemon had considered to try in order to wake his husband without startling him were immediately forgotten. Helcarion was dreaming about him, and it was hurting him. Naemon could not bear it for a moment longer, and so he did the only thing he could – he curled up next to his husband and pulled the other mer into his arms, despite not even knowing what it was that some dream version of him was doing to the man he loved. He only knew that he needed to comfort him somehow, pull him back into the reality they’d built together, the one where Naemon was still making up for the all the mistakes he’d made years and years ago.

“Wake up, darling,” he whispered into Helcarion’s ear, rubbing soothing circles into his back all the while. “I’m here, I’ve got you, you’re only dreaming...”

He had no idea whether it was his voice that finally caused the other to wake, or if it had been the movement or the touch, but Naemon felt the exact moment Helcarion woke up. Felt the shuddering breath against his chest, felt the way his husband clung to him, fingers tightening in the fabric of the shirt he wore to sleep. Whatever had happened in this dream, it had shaken Helcarion to the core, and so Naemon simply kept running his hands over his back, waiting for him to calm down enough to either say something or fall back asleep. That happened sometimes, too, he knew, when one was too exhausted to talk – or if one simply wanted to forget.

They laid there for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, when Helcarion did speak. “’m sorry,” he sighed. “Nightmare.” “I had gathered as much,” Naemon whispered back. “You don’t need to apologize, Hel. Not for this, not to me.” “I woke you up.” “And how many times have I done that to you, hm?” “It’s different for you,” Helcarion replied. “You have a reason for it. Me… well. It was just silly.” “Nothing that makes you sound like that is silly,” Naemon insisted. “Darling, you were crying in your sleep, begging me not to do… well, something. You weren’t very specific, I’m afraid.”

He could practically feel Helcarion wince, though he could not see it with the way his husband’s face was buried against his chest. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” “Hel, it’s not nothing. If you want to talk about it, I will listen. I neglected to do that for years, I will not repeat that mistake.”

Helcarion hesitated for but a moment before burying his face against Naemon’s chest. “It’s… it’s really stupid,” he said then, “but in the dream, you… you left me. I came home from work, and there you were, standing on the stairs, saying that you never really loved me, and that you just needed me while you… got back on your feet. I think those were your words.”

Naemon let out a quiet curse. “You know I would never say that, right?” he asked then. “Dreams don’t come out of nowhere, usually, and if I’ve done something to make your mind come up with… this, then it is me who needs to apologize. I must have done something to cause this.”

At that, Helcarion pulled back just a bit so that he could look at Naemon. “No. Love, no. This isn’t your fault. I’m just afraid of losing you again, in some way or another, and sometimes I dream about it. That’s all.” “It has happened before?” Naemon muttered, wide-eyed, and Helcarion actually managed a chuckle at that. “Of course that is what you would fixate on.” “Why would I not?” Naemon mumbled. “I don’t… it’s difficult, seeing you like this, when I can hardly do anything to help.”

That Helcarion would dream of such things at all was concerning, and no matter what he said, Naemon knew that the way he’d abandoned Helcarion when he’d married Estre had damaged their relationship to a point where it had almost been beyond saving. It all felt like a lifetime ago, now – but some wounds, Naemon knew, never fully healed.

But Helcarion, too kind as always, didn’t blame him for any of it and instead merely held onto Naemon as tightly as he could, tangling their legs together as well. “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered. “It happens now and then. But not often.”

Still, Naemon could feel him trembling, and he understood all too well – the fear of being left behind was a horrible thing, one he was painfully familiar with, and he would not allow Helcarion to simply pretend that it did not bother him. “As your husband, I reserve the right to worry about you whenever I please,” he huffed, running his fingers through Helcarion’s hair. He was still anxious, he had to admit – he hated seeing Helcarion hurt, and he was not nearly as good at comforting him as he would have liked, and so his only choice was to hold his husband close and hope that it would be enough. “I love you, and I’ll stay with you for as long as you want me to, and I will worry about you whenever I deem it necessary.”

At that, Helcarion laughed – it was a small laugh, uncertain, but it was there, and Naemon allowed himself to smile back at the mer in his arms. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep again?” he asked then.

Helcarion seemed to consider the question for a moment. “I might, if you keep holding me like that,” he said then. “That,” Naemon smiled, “can certainly be arranged. Rest, darling.”

And perhaps it took a while, longer than he would have liked, but when Helcarion’s breathing finally evened out again and he dozed off and the magelight flickered and faded away, Naemon finally allowed himself to sleep as well.

~*~

Helcarion, of course, had refused to stay home in the morning, despite the dark circles under his eyes. They’d become more prominent again lately, Naemon had noticed, and he didn’t like it. There was a reason for it, of course, other than a night of fitful sleep. As far as he knew, there had been a severe accident in Alinor’s Mages Guild chapter, some experiment gone awry, and Helcarion was not only the best healer around, but also an expert when it came to magically inflicted injuries. And if Naemon knew one thing about his husband, it was that his sense of duty prevented him from resting more than strictly necessary until all his patients had fully recovered. This, in turn, meant that he would often come home exhausted and with a headache from burning through his magicka reserves, and the fact that he had not slept well during the night could hardly be called an improvement.

Naemon had therefore decided that since Alwinarwe did not need him today (he suspected she mostly kept him around so he could make her duties bearable by offering snide commentary in a voice low enough not to be heard by most, anyway) and he had more than enough time to cook, he’d prepare a stew he knew Helcarion loved, the recipe for which he’d wheedled out of Faevaral. Said stew was already done, with Naemon carefully keeping it warm using just the tiniest flame spell. His magic teachers would probably have ripped their hair out, had they known that he had specifically modified the spell for this exact purpose.

There was also a cake in the oven, which had to be done just about now, Naemon supposed. He’d timed it so that it would be ready maybe half an hour before Helcarion was due home. He’d also already carried everything they’d need upstairs – bowls, plates, glasses, and a bottle of red wine Ayrenn had brought from a recent journey to Covenant territory. They could have made use of their dining room, which was closer to the kitchen, but it was really more suitable for hosting parties than it was for a quiet evening with just the two of them. They preferred to eat in their living room most days instead, with a fire crackling next to them. It was far more comfortable that way, they had decided, even if it meant they had to carry dishes around the house quite often.

Naemon was about halfway down the stairs, on his way back to the kitchen to get the cake after depositing the wine for later, when he heard the front door open. Given that he was not expecting a visit from either his cousin or his husband’s parents, who were the ones with the spare keys, this could only mean Helcarion was home early and would be walking into the hallway leading to the stairs any moment.

The stairs which Naemon was still standing on like a complete fool.

Cursing quietly, he rushed down the stairs, not keen on Helcarion seeing something that probably mirrored his too recent nightmare. It was just Naemon’s luck, though, that he managed to trip over his own feet in his haste to get off the stairs, barely managing to hang onto the banister.

That was how Helcarion found him mere moments later, drawn by the thumping sound created by a fully grown mer almost falling down the stairs and definitely landing on his knees in a fashion that could not at all be called dignified.

“Um… what are you doing, love?” Helcarion greeted him after he’d stared at him for a moment. Naemon was well aware he probably looked ridiculous – on his knees and clinging to the banister with one hand. He was not even completely sure he hadn’t pulled a muscle or two on the way down. Still, Helcarion probably expected an answer. “If I tell you, you’ll laugh at me,” he said, wincing. Helcarion watched him struggle back onto his feet with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not going to, I promise. Are you alright, though? You didn’t hit your head or anything of the sort?” “I’m fine, really,” Naemon reassured him. “My pride has taken a hit, I fear, but it’ll heal. I simply didn’t expect you home this early, and I was going down the stairs when you opened the door, and I am well aware it sounds completely asinine, no need to point it out to me, but I didn’t want you to come home and see me standing on them, which… I am still doing, I...”

He didn’t get any further than that before understanding flashed across Helcarion’s face and he crossed the room, gently cupped Naemon’s face with both hands and pulled him down for a kiss.

Naemon instantly found himself kissing back, too relieved to do much else. He’d been so worried Helcarion would see nothing but a repeat of his nightmare, further reinforcing his fears, but it appeared that there was no cause for concern, at least not anymore. His near-accident had at least served that particular purpose, it seemed, and so Naemon allowed himself to relax and enjoy the feeling of having the man he loved close to him, because no matter how long they’d been together at this point, he never really seemed to grow used to it, always cherishing every single touch.

It was different, being kissed like this, still standing on the last step of the staircase – he and Helcarion were almost exactly the same height, and so having to lean down to kiss his husband was a whole new experience. He didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, and so he simply buried his fingers in Helcarion’s hair once more. Judging by the way the healer sighed into the kiss, he did not mind in the slightest.

“You,” Helcarion said when they finally broke apart for air, smiling up at Naemon, “are entirely too sweet. I’ve never had someone falling down stairs for me.” Naemon shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. “Don’t get too used to it, yes? It’s not exactly a delightful experience.” Helcarion smiled at him fondly before pulling him in for another kiss. “Speaking of delightful experiences...” he said then. “I do believe it smells like cake!” “Oh, damn it,” Naemon muttered. He had, in fact, completely forgotten about his little baking project. “I, ah… should see about salvaging that. It does not smell burned yet, at least...” “Well then,” Helcarion said, grinning, “let’s go and salvage it together, shall we?”

With the nightmare forgotten for the time being, the two of them left the staircase behind and walked back to the kitchen hand in hand.

#my writing #eso #naemon #oc: helcarion #i've had this idea stuck in my brain for ages #so thanks for finally making me write it <3 #long post

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