#they were really supposed to get farther into plan b but ed's more alert today and by alert i mean SO confused and mood swingy

[whimperwoods]

Arms of the Enemy (D&D Whump) - 8

This is Part 8!

Here are part 1, part 2 , part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, and part 7!

Castor is a warlock, in service to the Great Old One and the Dark Emperor, in that order. Ed is a fighter, a knight and battle master in  the service of the True King of Lumenea. They have always been enemies.  In the space between the Old One and the Emperor, they might be able to become something else.

(Also Ed has emotions and Castor has a plan b.)

tw: panic attack (maybe?), tw: aftermath of torture, tw: feelings of shame and self-loathing, tw: brief suicidal ideation, tw: powerful mood swings, tw: Ed’s general bad time coping,

taglist: @redwingedwhump, @fanastywhump, @insanitywishes @bluebadgerwhump,@burtlederp, @newandfiguringitout, @kawhump

Side note: The d&d mechanics stuff is more a fun challenge for me than necessary for world-building, but I DO feel I should mention I only just realized warlocks get their spell slots back on a short rest and not only a long one? On the one hand I now understand why it’s an actually playable class, on the other hand, I have already established that Castor only gets his back on a long rest, so I’m beefing up all his invocations to compensate.

***************

Castor felt deeply, deeply foolish. He was on the ceiling, but now both of them were visible and Amara was shouting “Hey,” and they were in big trouble. He muttered an invocation under his breath and flung a wave of magic behind him, slowing down everyone on the stairs, and kept running. Hopefully, it would take their pursuers longer to look up than it took him to get out of the line of sight of the stairs and up into some kind of dark corner.

<<Do you trust me?>> he asked Ed.

The other man was silent, his presence a mental weight against the edge of Castor’s awareness, but just as Castor was ducking into an embrasure and trying to keep both of them out of the dim light that seeped through the arrow loop inside, he got an answer.

*****

<<Do you trust me?>>

Ed wanted to vomit. Of course he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t. But of course he did. He had to. He thought, all of a sudden, of his hand in the mage’s, last night. “Squeeze my hand if it’s ok to move you,” as if he’d had any choice then, as if he had any choice now. But he’d done it. He’d done it. A contract. It was done.

Ed was still trying to breathe when they stopped moving and he realized he hadn’t been focusing his eyes, hadn’t seen a thing as they slipped into a tiny space that, he realized a long moment later, was meant for an archer. Did he trust Castor?

<<Yes>> he answered, his voice a whisper even in their minds. His face flushed with shame. He was a disgrace. He was either lying or telling the truth and he didn’t know which was worse. Why had Castor asked him? Why was he pretending Ed got to decide? Ed had decided one thing, and now they were visible and hiding and he didn’t have any more plan than the warlock did.

He realized he was shaking, so hard he was sure Castor could feel it. They were visible. They were visible, and Castor had no plan because Castor was a planless idiot. But he had no plan, either, so apparently he was, too.

He could feel Castor’s presence in his mind even as the man stayed silent, a gentle pressure he could feel even though he suspected he shouldn’t, and it was almost comforting. His breathing eased slightly.

<<Ok>> Castor said, <<So, technically I can be a little bit invisible any time? Only a little bit invisible. And only in shadows. But the problem is it’s only me. So I’m gonna need to uh - well. This is the best place I could think of to leave you. It’s uh - it’s hidden, mostly, and it’s safer than the ground.>>

Ed instinctively tightened his arms around Castor’s neck and shoulders. <<No!>>

He could feel Castor almost-answer, could hear him almost-speak, and anger washed over him. His words came out hollow, ringing empty between their minds because the flood of emotion running through Ed was too big to fit into them.

<<No,>> he told the mage, <<No, you’re the one who brought me out here. You’re the one who started all this. You brought me out here. I could have been - could - have been - >> He knew what he could have been. He could have been dead, or much farther on his way to it, and he didn’t want to be dead, and he didn’t want to be dead, and he was still rambling in Castor’s mind in spite of himself.

<<It’s your fault I’m alive. It’s your fault I’m alive and not in my cell and they’re going to punish me for it. They’re going to punish me for it.>> His stomach felt cold and solid, and he wasn’t sure if he was afraid of his captors or himself, saying things he meant and didn’t mean and couldn’t mean. He was shaking. Oh gods, he was shaking.

<<They won’t.>> Castor’s voice was soft. Gentle. Ed only half heard it. <<They won’t. I have . . . things. There’s more I can do. I’ll be with you the whole time, if you’ll let me in. And I won’t let them hurt you. I’d been planning to hide you here in the fortress, but the game’s up for both of us so now we’re onto plan B and I’m getting you out of here. I just need you to hold on. I just have some things to steal first, and I’m the only one who can be invisible this way. And then I’ll be back. I promise.>>

Ed felt hot where he was angry and cold where he was afraid, and a great sucking tornadic hole in the middle, tearing him apart. Sir Edmond of Lumenea was not this. He was not so small. So afraid. So dependent. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. And he didn’t want to die. He couldn’t want to die. He wanted to be alive. He wanted to be alive.

Castor stood on the side of the wall and rearranged both of them awkwardly, laying Ed down on the tiny patch of floor and tucking his legs in as tightly as they would go. Ed almost cried out at the pain, but forced himself to hold it in, keeping the noise down to a soft grunt he had to hope no one heard under the chaos of low, slowed-down voices shouting several yards away.

Oh. Sounds. That was right. Sounds. Sounds. He hadn’t been listening to the head-sounds, and he had to not make real sounds. At least, he had to not make them here. <<Help me look out,>> he demanded, off topic and with his head still reeling dizzily, <<Help me see, I need to know where we are.>>

*****

Castor’s spine felt electric, prickling with the sense that something was wrong with Ed. He knelt on the wall, making the most of his spider climb as he adjusted himself within the tiny space to lay a hand on Ed’s cheek and turn the man’s face toward him. He looked deeply into the knight’s eyes, trying to pick apart what was fear and what was something else - whatever it was that wasn’t right.

Instead, he suddenly felt awash in a wave of confused emotions, fear and anger and despair flooding out of Ed and almost overwhelming him.

<<No,>> he said gently, trying to keep his voice even and not let on that he’d felt unasked-for reverberations that strong. <<Just stay. It’ll be ok. I promise.>>

The wave of anger that crashed across Castor’s mind was purer and clearly intentional, a mental shove that drove him backward in surprise, making him let go of Castor’s face and sit back into his heels.

<<So that’s it, then,>> Ed said bitterly, <<All that and in the end you think I’m useless. I can’t help. You don’t want me. You’re just going to leave me here with nothing like I’m useless.>>

This was so not the time for a big argument. Especially not when he remembered all the things that weren’t anger that he’d felt before Ed started lashing out.

Castor breathed deeply, centering himself, and then leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Ed’s, pushing as much calm, care, and intent through their mental link as he could. <<Ed, I’m coming back for you. I swear. I - I swear by my master, I’m coming back for you. I just can’t steal things with you on my back.>>

Ed shuddered underneath him, another reverberation from Ed’s mind washing over Castor’s again, the same confusing blend, but with the anger leaking out, leaving a flash of cold and sorrow before it faded away again.

The knight’s hand wrapped around Castor’s wrist. <<Let me help you. I just need a view of what’s below us. And an idea where you’re going.>> His voice was sad, now, thrumming with something that hurt to listen to.

<<Alright,>> he answered, not sure he had any other real option, against that kind of hurt. <<But we have to be careful.>>

<<Alright,>> Ed agreed.

Getting a good peek outward took some doing, but they managed, and Castor was surprised to hear a loud clattering noise a good distance away from their hiding place. Their pursuers were still slowed, but barely, the spell on the edge of running out. It was a relief to hear the people below shout slowly about following the noise. He pulled Ed back into their arrow loop.

<<There.>> Ed sounded exhausted. <<Done.>>

Castor didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t know what to make of any of this, really. Any time he tried to think it through, things all got tangled, both because this was complicate and because he never seemed to be able to get a bead on Ed’s mind, or perhaps his feelings. <<Thanks,>> he answered, after a moment’s adjusting to what had happened.

<<I'm, uh. I’m a little bit magic.>> Ed was starting to sound more himself, and Castor wasn’t sure if it was because of or in spite of his clear exhaustion. Either way, it was a relief, if a small one.

<<I noticed.>> Castor wasn’t sure whether he should ask about it or not, but he was sure he needed to get his supplies and get them out of here, so he saved the question for later.

<<Sorry about not mentioning before,>> Ed added.

<<Well, at least I know you have that trick if something happens. And I can keep an eye on this place while I’m gone, if you’ll let me.>>

<<What do you mean?>>

Castor found himself suddenly unable to look the knight in the eyes. <<If you’ll let me, I can see and hear what you see and hear. As long as we keep the link going, I can blink out of my own senses and into yours. It’s uh - I don’t do it a ton. But I can check in every couple of minutes to make sure you’re still alright.>>

A twinge of surprise pulsed through their mental link and Castor wondered, passively, whether their unusually strong link might mean some day Ed could look through his eyes, too. The surprise backed off into silence, but Castor let Ed think through it, just listening to the footsteps below and waiting for an answer.

<<Yeah, alright,>> the knight finally said, <<How do I know when you turn it back off?>>

<<I dunno. But we both have to be willing for it to work. So if you don’t want me to see what you see, you can shut me out. I just won’t be able to reopen from a distance so if you do that before I get back, I won’t be able to get to you unless you’re still here.>>

<<Got it.>>

<<I have to touch you.>>

The knight’s fingers wrapped around Castor’s wrist again. <<Done.>>

Castor twisted his arm until he could hold Ed’s wrist, too. Then he focused on the half-prayer that would open the link, whispering the invocation under his breath as quietly as he could.

*****

Ed had expected to feel it when the connection between the two of them changed, but instead he was alerted to it working by a deep gasp from Castor. The mage let go of Ed’s arm and slapped his hand over his own mouth to keep from crying out, and when his voice started up in Ed’s head, it sounded tense and pained.

<<I’ve got your skin, too. The senses of it, I mean. Touch. I’ve got your sense of touch. Gods.>>

The hand Castor had against the wall, stabilizing his disorienting sideways kneel, was quaking faintly, and when he moved the other hand away from his mouth, it was shaking much harder, shaking visibly, like Ed was sure his own did, these days.

For a moment, he felt pity for the mage, but then a wave of anger came behind it. Why should he feel bad? Why should he pity a man for suddenly sharing in the pain of what his own people had done? Why should he feel bad for his old enemy when he’d never asked him to climb into his mind and body, when he’d never asked for any of this.

Pity and anger warred in his chest as he listened to Castor’s body take deep, gasping breaths, like he was trying to steady himself against the pain.

<<Sorry,>> the mage gasped again, <<Sorry, I didn’t mean to - fuck. I think while I’m in there - we both have to calm down together. I can feel your heart racing in there. That’s. I’m not. It’s just supposed to be sight and sound. It’s. I hate it. I see me but don’t feel me. That’s new. Fuck.>>

Ed timed his breaths to Castor’s body’s breathing, feeling his tangle of emotions start to fade again, unsustainable. He was tired. Gods, he was tired. They’d only just woken up and come here and he was already so tired. Slowing his breaths just made it harder to fight it, harder to focus on anything but the pain and the exhaustion and his presence in his own body.

<<Ok,>> Castor said, <<Ok. Ok. Back in a moment. Gotta make sure it works.>>

He hadn’t felt Castor get closer before, but now he felt him leave, the feeling of surprise he hadn’t realized was coming from Castor easing and the mage’s voice quieting just slightly as he rambled more <<Ok. Alright. Ok>>s.

Castor’s return was announced by another deep, pained gasp of air from the mage’s body, but this time Ed felt Castor’s presence solidifying in his mind.

He felt no particular sensation that told him Castor was on his left side, but sensed it somehow regardless, moving his right hand almost instinctively to clasp his own left shoulder comfortingly.

<<Oh,>> Castor whispered, right there and so, so quiet, <<Oh, Ed. I’m. I knew, but - I didn’t.>>

Something about this, about holding his own shoulder to touch Castor, about the half-daze of knowing things he couldn’t know, sensing things that weren’t there, cut through him to the core. <<I need you to come back soon,>> he answered the mage, <<I need you. I can’t stay here. It’s too small. It hurts. We have to go.>>

Castor moved fast this time, out of Ed’s mind and into his own body again before Ed had finished realizing what he’d said. A moment later, Ed had processed the fact that he’d begged and not begged, said what he shouldn’t and meant it and felt nothing bad in the moment of it, and Castor’s hand came down gently to rest over his own, warm and comforting.

<<I know. I’m sorry. I’ll go. I won’t be long. Just stay quiet, and the moment I sense any trouble, I’ll come to you instead of the mission. I’ll be checking back in. I’ll be - I’ll be checking.>>

Ed couldn’t possibly answer. He couldn’t. Something had broken open again, something real was obvious and aching and right there in the open where Castor couldn’t miss it. He shoved against the other man’s presence in their little arrow loop, but he knew without asking that whatever his mind or heart or soul had managed of a shove hid nothing of the whatever-it-was this extra closeness had cut its way down to.

Castor straightened up, peeked around the edge of the embrasure, and hurried outside and away, into the shadows where he’d be invisible, apparently.

Ed laid where he’d been left, feeling like a crab cracked open, the meat inside exposed to the open air. It ached, but it was a good ache, and he didn’t have the energy to hate it. Tears slipped from his eyes and he didn’t stop them, letting them flow silently down his cheeks and leaving alone the question of where they were coming from. It was dangerous, with him like this. Too dangerous. He breathed, and cried, and wondered when he’d feel Castor’s mind drawing closer again.

*****

Castor’s body ached faintly in all the places Ed hurt, a ghost of the way it felt to look through the man’s eyes. It wouldn’t let Castor go. He moved as fast as he could without alerting anyone, the ache lingering somewhere underneath the skin it didn’t belong to. He moved. Shadow. Shadow. Ache. He planned each move as he made the one before it, hurrying from shadow to shadow, where he’d be invisible, disappearing into the blind spots of the universe. He needed to hurry.

Lost in the shadows, he ached.