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[folklore]

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[inquired]

[ well, yes, he has to have a comment for everything, because he is temenos mistral, but he doesn't apparently have a comment as crick starts moving anyway. he gives crick a pointed look as he starts moving, threateningly readying his staff with his other hand, and the pointed look remains as crick scooches over, though it folds into something that looks more like really?

... he sighs. ]

...Honestly. This goodness and righteousness of yours is beginning to get to excessive levels of self destructive.

[ stop! hurting yourself!

and after a pause, temenos lays the staff against the wall, within grabbing reach, and eyes the small space he's left. he sits, first, near the foot of the bed, kicking his foot up over his knee so he can undo the laces on his brogues and take them off, because he's not a complete heathen, and shakes his head. dress shoes kicked off, eventually, very, very delicately - he shifts, lifting his knees and carefully slotting into the space that's been left behind, adjusting a little bit of the pillow so there's some space for his head.

thankfully, he's pretty small and generally bony, but it's still a tight fit - still, despite brushing him off, temenos is very, very careful not to aggravate or touch a single injury. ] You won't survive the night because Castti will come up here and kill me and you for this - forget the crows. Do not move.

[anointee]

[ you've met crick wellsley, right??? sincere to a fault??? means what he says at all times???

crick lets out a laugh that strains at the edges, peters off into a little wheeze because it works his diaphragm and twinges on his healing wounds. a part of him fears what he might look like beneath these bandages, but scars mean that he survived what he went through. that he stood up for what he believes in. that he will get to continue to do so, alongside temenos once more.

though, he tries not to think much on temenos, now, or at least in the present. he's only ever shared a bed with ort during training, and that was when they were in the field and lacking the space for an alternative option. this is much the same, but feels very, very different. not that he has the energy to really be embarrassed.

why does he feel like this? ]

I will do my best to not earn Ms. Castti's ire, especially with the work that the both of you put in to heal me. [ voice lowering a bit further, his eyes close.

when he next speaks, it's very nearly a whisper. but it's full of sincerity. ] ... thank you.

[inquired]

[ good!! suffer!!!

anyway. he is unaware of any internal plight that sweet crick is having about sharing a bed with the wizard (cleric) who cursed his entire life and also maybe his dick. he mostly is still thinking and trying not to hit any injuries on accident as he gets comfortable. it ends up that his knees are just lightly resting against crick's leg, but, whatever, he'll have to deal with it.

he is... not expecting a thank you. at all. (which is silly - he should be.) it throws temenos very briefly off guard again, in the very quiet stormhail inn room, in the dawning light of day, and he makes a very quiet - ] ...Mn.

[ acceptance, after a maybe slightly awkward pause. like he's trying for a real answer. ]

...Don't thank me yet. I've many more truths to uncover, and you will have many more metaphorical and literal doors to break down. The finale is yet at hand.

[anointee]

[ he does suffer!

still, crick doesn't react much to the knees against his leg, even if the intimacy is blatant, foreign. it's that strange place between comfortable and distracting. distracting enough, at least, that he doesn't notice the awkwardness, as exhaustion starts to bleed into him again. moving, speaking, simply being conscious - it's all so tiring.

but he still tries to speak to him now. ]

Perhaps we shall have less literal doors to break down... [ must they? he would much rather not resort to that sort of thing again, but. but. if it will get them their answers, then... ] Regardless, you will have my thanks, Temenos.

[ for your guidance. for saving him. for coming back safe. for closing the book on this chapter. thank you. ]

[inquired]

[ no, unfortunately, temenos is the only one who is the most conscious of this interaction, which means he gets to feel any faint hints of awkwardness to it - though, the sort of soul crushing tired of the past 24 hours does help with that. he's very, very good at repressing, and in the grand scheme of things, that tiny moment of 'hm well this is intimate' is small potatoes compared to an unending grief he's never spent a second processing, from roi's disappearance and moving on.

this was close. it was too close.

there's a small, soft noise, a faint hum of a laugh, and it comes with a smile as he slowly closes his eyes. ]

Those muscles have to be good for something. [ maybe he can settle. for a little while, at least, maybe his thoughts can slow down long enough that he can rest. it's not over, but it's - they're fine.

the dawn is coming. ]

Get some rest and be prepared to move in the morning. I'd rather not waste much more time so close to this particular murder.

[anointee]

[ as consciousness starts to weigh heavier and heavier, crick thinks to himself about how his muscles will be useless for some time. it twinges something in his chest that isn't a healing wound, a map of gnarled and darkened stabs and slashes across his torso that could have taken his life. instead, it's a little despair.

everything he's ever known, ever strived for, after having met roi... it's all gone. surely there are others in the sacred guard and the sanctum knights that were not corrupt, but the rot ran deeper than he ever could have guessed. and it had tried so hard to rip out the healthy roots, culling everything that brought attention to their machinations.

at least cubayri has been taken out of the equation. ]

... no, better to leave. I will do my best to not slow you and your companions down, Temenos.

[inquired]

[ ... hmm. something about that doesn't sit quite right. temenos is too perceptive to miss out on the subtleties of this reaction, the carelessly laced despair and self-loathing that comes in such a remark. he's the cleric, after all, the guiding light of flamechurch, and he's heard many a miserable soul say the same.

... hearing it from crick has a unique weight, though, in the context of his situation, and he presses his lips together, eyeing him for a moment where he's very carefully perched himself. ]

I hardly think that will be a problem. [ 'slowing them down'. and even if it were, it wouldn't matter. the other travelers nearly fell over themselves to make sure crick was taken care of, and still have. they supported temenos in ways he is so deeply thankful that he will never be able to repay them for, and now, they'll travel along to toto'haha together, as they have traveled this continent over and over before.

he makes the statement with finality. something crick can't argue with, even if there's no heat to it, as his gaze flicks back over his bandaged torso one more time, as he lifts a hand almost absently, to reach out and very lightly touch the back of his hand to his forehead. check for fever. pay attention to signs of infection. stay awake. ] We'll make for Toto'haha. And rest assured, if you're the type to be seasick, we will not stop for you at any moment, so you'll expel your insides over the side of the boat like the rest of us.

[ a joke, at least, lighter, to see if he might assuage that self despairing talk lightly, first. ]

[anointee]

[ trust temenos and his perception to snatch up something that he was trying to not focus too much on, himself, as his consciousness toys with the idea of more sleep. a rare, wry twist pulls at the corner of his mouth. caught. but it smooths out again as his eyes flick to his companion briefly, then close again as he feels the cool skin of temenos' hand against his own.

he's in the clear, at least for now. if there was a fever, it's broken for the time being, but there's still a warmth there that comes from having been feverish. but he still turns and presses into the touch almost unconsciously.

it's that strange, familiar yet foreign comfort again, the same that comes from temenos' knees pressed into the side of his leg. in his exhaustion, he wants to curl into it, into temenos, and cling onto that comfort.

like a lighthouse as a bastion of safety. ]

I've not done much seafaring, or even much travel by boat, but what little of it I have... [ the levity does draw him away from the quiet despair. the wry twist leaves, and is replaced by a quirk of a tired smile. ] I've not been seasick, but it could certainly change, crossing to Toto'haha. Farther than I've ever traveled, nevermind on water.