#im so glad i re-read the prompt bc my brain was trying to figure out how to make g.aius do all these things

[heirbane]

[ anger ] / [ fear ] + maybe …. [ closer ] ?!?! idk have fun with it. lol 🐺🐇

PINNED. x @daizure

[ ANGER ]:     sender pins receiver against the wall out of anger. [ FEAR ]: in order to frighten or intimidate the receiver, the sender shoves them back against a wall, positioning themselves so that the receiver can’t get out. [ CLOSER ]:     while pinning the receiver against the wall, sender glances down at their lips, suddenly aware of how close they are to one another…

He must have misspoken. Gaius knew his tongue had been sharp, his patience wearing thin the longer their excursion lasted, time and circumstances chipping away at his facade.

He had barely felt as if he belonged in his own body. Garlemald was but a ghost of what she had been, a corpse with broken, shattered bones, staring up at the sky and begging for release. He felt much the same.

The moment snow began to crunch underfoot, the long forgotten Legatus felt as if he were simply observing. He wondered if this was how the Reaper avatars felt, looking over their caller's shoulder, not quite here and not quite dead.

The voice that came from his lips felt alien. His words were not his own, delayed and flat, as if he were pulling them from the very depths of what remained of the man.

It was a long reach. There was not much left.

Now, the cold sinking into his bones and forcing him to return, to be reminded of his broken bones and dislocated pieces - fractures aching and sore. He was more aware of his shortcomings in the cold.

How could he not, when they screamed at him so?

His tongue was thick in his mouth, cheek and jaw stiff, the lightning line where he had once shattered his orbital bone prickling under the skin. Gaius couldn't recall what he said.

It had puffed from his lips, settling into the stale air. With the speed of a man who was also at the end of his rope, Arye crossed the space, glove-clad hands gathering in the front of his parchment-thin undershirt. His shoulders met the cold metal wall, the back of his head bumping and his hand instinctively reaching for one of his knives.

A heavy boot settled between his own. He stared down into green irises, half-hidden by the furious pull of snowy brows.

For a moment, he was not being cornered in Broken Glass, both of them hidden away behind one of the supply buildings. He was looking at sprigs of life under the last blanket of winter, grass peeking out and pulling the covers back. It was the beginning of spring, of something new and fresh. Rebirth. Revitalization.

He was but an old dog that scarcely survived the dead of winter.

Why had he come?

The blade that pressed into his throat ripped him back. His hand was empty. Arye stood nigh on his toes, violence and fury in every syllable he spoke, blood beading at his skin and dragging down onto his collar.

" -- Do not make me repeat myself," the spring snarled, ears turned to listen for interruptions beyond them. The knife bit into his flesh. "Do you understand, Baelsar?"

He did. Gaius swallowed, gaze drifting from his own knife on under his chin to the curl of the Adventurer's lips. He drew in a deep breath, feeling himself settle back into his body for the first time since he had arrived.

"Do you oft use your enemy's munitions against them, Hviter?"

Cold air puffed into the Viera's face. His expression tightened, hackles raising, the sound of leather shifting as the man's grip tightened on Gaius' knife.

Arye opened his mouth, cheeks pink with cold and rage.

"No matter. Keep it," Gaius spoke. He pulled back, finding just enough room to force his way out of Arye's cornering, the knife sliding against his throat further as he created space betwixt them. He felt the cold nibble at the wound, the slice clean and thin across his throat.

"Ganathain has one of my own in his possession, too. Mayhaps it is best," he said, adjusting his neckerchief to hide the weeping wound. "For you to have one, lest you sully one of your own blades with my blood. Keep it. You may have use of it yet."

His shoulder bumped Arye's chest. He stepped around the Warrior, eye contact sharp and steady, and did not break his gaze until he disappeared from behind the warehouse himself.