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https://ift.tt/2GFaP7XDalamar’s Face-Today at 1:30 AM: I’d be up for whump. (Once I finish reading the epic that is Ned’s fic, because this is good and I’m slow)
Skull Bearer-Today at 1:31 AM: What sort of whump?
Dalamar’s Face-Today at 1:32 AM: uhm… The sort where someone probably Dalamar gets the shit kicked out of them and the other tries to help?
Set during Ice and Steel in my Ivory, Blood & Ebony series.
Dalamar felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up, someone was watching.
He paused at the gate to the garden he had charmed free of vermin. Ostensibly fiddling with the lock, but listening as closely as he could. But the outskirts of Solace were quiet, and if not for the sudden silence of the birds and crickets, everything should have been well.
He needed to get back to Raistlin house. He needed to be back there now.
His shoulderblades itched, they were behind him, a twitch of the bushes in the corner of his eye suggested he was being flanked too. Dalamar drew in a breath he would need very badly, got his legs under him, and ran.
He cleared the fence, flew over the kitchen garden, bounded past the back gate and barely cleared the side of the vallenwood. Someone behind him cursed and he redoubled his efforts to get away because despite the accent- it was unmistakably elvish.
His heart beat against his ribs, in time with his panting breaths- get out get out get out-
Someone hit him in the side, knocking him flying. Dalamar snarled and grabbed his dagger, panic bursting through him. He lashed out, blade flashing in the sunlight and biting into a tangle of green cloth- and through, into the yielding flesh beneath. A cry of pain, and Dalamar broke free, struggling to keep his balance.
Hands snatched at the back of his robes, and Dalamar turned, his hands snatching up at cast-
And something cracked into the back of his head. The world revolved and he stumbled, falling to his knees and his dagger slipped out of his fingers and no- no-
A blade flashes towards him, and Dalamar managed to roll out of the way, he drew up a foot and kicked the sneering Qualinesti full in the face. The elf cursed and stumbled back, dropping his sword and groping for his bloody nose.
“Get hold of him-“
A fist plunged into his stomach, another snatched in his hair, wrenching him upright. An arm snaked around his neck and Dalamar sucked in a desperate, last breath and sank his teeth into the wrist as the grip cut off the air.
Another cry, the grip loosened and Dalamar snapped his head back, feeling the satisfying impact of the back of his head against a nose.
“You- filthy animal-“
A sword drove at his ribs, Dalamar twisted and it snicked through his robes, drawing a line of blood. One of them had his arm, twisting it up behind his back as the sword-wielder snarled through her broken nose, drawing her sword back to spit him.
Dalamar hurled himself forwards, catching her by surprise. The sword span out of her hands, catching Dalamar on the side of his head and flashing away in the long grass. They crashed down together and the elf screamed- although whether Dalamar had done any damage or if it was just the horror of having a filthy Dark elf on top of her.
Dalamar lashed out, wild and desperate- hands and head and knees and he tore his arm free and seized his own wrist, bringing his elbow down on the elf’s face again and again-
Something hot and cold and draining and bad sank into his back. It was a clumsy thrust- gouging through the flesh and glancing against his shoulderblade- but then it lodged between that and his backbone and his breath stuttered- just one wrong motion would sever his spine- one more inch deep would puncture a lung-
He turned, managing to throw off the elf on his back. He stumbled back, hands red with Dalamar’s blood-
“Stay back!” A third, the one Dalamar had kicked in the face. She had a bow drawn, the arrow pointed at Dalamar. “I have it!”
Dalamar grabbed the half-conscious Qualinesti and hauled her up. His shoulder was a spreading ball of pain and his breath stuttered, terrified to draw in a full breath in case he nicked his own lung. “Stay back.” He hissed.
“Let her go!” The other two started to close. Dalamar could see the one that had stabbed him glancing at the grass, trying to find the sword.
The world span around him, his legs buckled, weak and trembling. Move, move. He backed off, step by step, hoisting the elf up further as a shield. He moved her from one hand to another, the wound on his shoulder pulled and he choked, but he’d freed a hand and groped over his back, touching the blood soaked handle of his own dagger.
He’d have minutes, after he pulled it out. If he didn’t, he would die more certainly. Dalamar ducked behind the vallenwood, then drew a ragged breath, and pulled it free.
The pain nearly made him vomit. He dropped the unconscious elf, and forced himself into a run. The shouts broke out behind him, and an arrow whirred, barely missing him and thudding dully into the tree. He could taste his own blood, feel the slow, spreading warmth of his own blood over his back-
“There! Over there!” Dalamar started, stumbled, the world swam in front of him, blurring the outlines of the Solace guards, the blotched white shape of the fat innkeeper. He tried to turn, tried to get away from them- but the world swept out from under his feet, and he crashed down into the knotted roots of the vallenwood.
——————————————————————————————-
The pain jarred Dalamar back to reality and he cried out, trying to crawl away from the searing agony in his shoulder- but iron-hard hand snapped around his wrists, pinning him down.
“Don’t be a fool,” A short, snapping voice cut into his ear. “Raistlin, tell him to behave himself.”
Raistlin- Dalamar forced his eyes open. The world was blurry, but he was pinned down against a bed, the world dancing around him in a confusion of firelight and shimmering glass. He choked, tried to speak-
“Don’t move.” Raistlin’s voice was stiff, trembling. “I am stitching your back together so you don’t bleed out.”
The needle slid into the swollen, pain-bloated skin of his back, dragging in a raw rough thread that made him shiver in pain. One of the hands on his wrists loosened, and something was pressed against his lips. “Willow bark,” The first voice. “Chew on it, it’ll help with the pain.”
Dalamar blinked, the woman’s face swam into view. A face like carved brown wood, hair grey and scraped back from her face. Black eyes like those of birds’. He knew her- but the pain- and the memories slipped away.
He closed his eyes, chewing on the bark. His body hurt everywhere, his hair was matted to the side of his head and the bed swayed under him, as though on water.
“How bad?” He gritted out.
“Your wrist is fractured.” Raistlin’s voice wavered, then grew steady, “Your skull nearly was, but it is starting to swell, so you may have escaped that. They cut you to the rib, and this could have-“ He broke off, “We have stopped the bleeding. You will be fine.”
Dalamar tried to nod- and regretted it at once. Raistlin got out of the way, and the woman got his head over the side of the bed so he could vomit into the bedpan.
When he’d finished, he curled up on his side, shivering. Raistlin lifted his head, slid up beside him and let him rest against his thigh, stroking his hair. “What happened?” Dalamar managed.
“They came for the fair.” Raistlin sighed. “Apparently they were too high and mighty to mingle with humans, but not so much as to keep away from the brandy. Otik heard them making plans to go after you, and alerted the guard.” He paused. The woman- Meggin, he mind finally coughed up- handed Dalamar a glass of something warm and herbal and he drank, his stomach trembling warningly at the liquid. “One of them died.” He continued, “Choked on her own blood. The archer survived, but won’t be looking in the mirror any more.” Dalamar smiled. “The guards are fairly satisfied you were defending yourself.”
“Where are they now?” Still two left, and if they came now, Dalamar would be worse than useless-
“Gone. They ran after it became clear no one was going to finished you off.”
Dalamar nodded, but his hands clenched into fists, helplessly. They could come back. They could return and kill both of them and there was nothing Dalamar could do-
Raistlin sighed, he settled on his back on the bed, Dalamar’s head resting on his chest. Dalamar could hear his heart beating, his breath coming warm and steady. Exhaustion washed over him. “Let me.” Raistlin murmured. “I will watch over us, this time.”
You can’t. Dalamar wanted to warn him. What did Raistlin know of danger? How would he know if they were being hunted? And Dalamar- was weak, could not do anything-
Maybe Raistlin knew what he was thinking. He hushed him, pulled him close and despite the pain in his back, the racking ache through his body, Dalamar felt his eyes start to close.
“I can keep us safe.” Raistlin continued, steady and calm. “You can sleep.”
Dalamar sighed wearily, and let the world slip away.
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