st_unning | Nightmares

Nightmares

Alcuin had been at the hotel for over a month now, and had not been sleeping much better than he had when he arrived. He would frequently wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, or feeling a scream dying on his lips. Sometimes he remembered the dreams. Sometimes they were memories - of the attack, of blood and pain, of the light dying in Anafiel's eyes. Of Bouvarre, his greedy hands and eyes, the knife sliding into Alcuin's skin. Or worse, dreams that were more dreams, and even worse than the reality had been.

Often he could never hope to go back to sleep after, and so he'd turn on the lights and write in his journal or read whatever (likely terrible) book he'd found in the hotel gift shop. Though at least even bad books were a distraction.

But sleepless nights meant that he sometimes spent the daytime exhausted. This was not the first time he'd fallen asleep by accident, this time underneath a tree not far from the stables, where he'd been sitting and reading. The book had fallen to the ground beside him, and once he'd fallen asleep he had curled up in the soft grass by the tree.

Even now, in the sunshine and the safety of the inn, a nightmare came to him, a particularly bad one. In his sleep, he stirred, fingers digging slightly in the dirt, and cried out in distress, still mostly asleep.

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"No," Alcuin confirmed. "So I told you I was a sort of... spy? It was no accident, the man who won. Anafiel chose the guests, he knew who would likely go the highest. Bouvarre had information, important information... He asked for me, again and again, and every time I got a bit closer to answers. But I... I grew to despise him, over time." He did not say why. It was not just one thing, and he certainly did not want to go into details. "It is also customary for Servants of Naamah to receive patron gifts, on top of the price - these gifts go to the discharge of our debt to a House or to whoever owns our marque." He knew that he was using words he had not explained yet to Vax, but he continued with the story. "Every time, Bouvarre shirked such payment. It was not in his interest for me to make my marque, it would mean that I might not see him again. Finally, I played my hand, refused to see him for months - and when he could stand it no more he asked for my price. I told him I would see him once more, in exchange the information I sought and the remaining price of my marque."

Vax'ildan listened, absorbing and working out bits in relation to the whole if not understanding completely. The servants could buy their way free from their masters with these patron gifts, was the important thing, and Alcuin... "He paid it, then?"

"Yes," Alcuin said quietly. "The money and the information." And that night had been less pleasant than all the others combined, but again, there was no need to burden Vax with the details.

"And then..." He looked a bit pained. "He had my carriage attacked on my way home. That was the source of my other scar. Stabbed. And I was not fortunate enough to have someone like you to help me. I nearly died. And..." It was clear now that this was the part that pained him most. "And the man sent to guard me was killed. Because of me."

Every occupation had its dangers, as Vax knew too well. Spies and sex workers both, more than most. If Alucin amounted to putting them together, it was a tragic thing that had happened, but not an entirely surprising one. It made more sense now, how he'd found Alcuin bleeding out, even if that had come after this.

With that in mind, Vax stopped in their lazy meandering, turning to look at Alcuin. "That's awful," he regarded the boy earnestly. "But just as you knew there were risks to what you did, I think the man who guarded you must have understood the risks he took as well."

Alcuin nodded, but he clearly did not feel that way about it. Guilt still gnawed at him.

"After that," he continued, deciding to just take the story to the end, "Bouvarre hanged himself in his jail cell. Or was murdered. Hard to say. I made my marque - the design on my back, that is what it signifies - and then I left Naamah's service. I had not entered it for the right reasons to begin with. But I did it all for him - for love." He ran his fingers through his hair, slightly agitated. "I cannot say who was behind the attack on us from when I arrived here. It was meant for Anafiel, not me, or perhaps me as well because I knew too much. It was political intrigue. Secrets and power." He could only hope that Phedre had not returned home too soon. He clung to that, that she might still be well.

He shook his head. "And my nightmares... Memories and worse, all twisted together. I had them for a time, after Bouvarre... and then they stopped, when I was sharing a bed with Anafiel. Now, they are worse. I do not know how to get past it. It makes me feel weak."

Would that fate had seen fit to send Pike rather than him, Vax'ildan considered not for the first time, someone who could do so much more good in this strange land. She knew what it was to bring people together, to put them to work towards a common goal, leading by example. She always knew the kind words and small gesture that might reach someone, if anything would.

"I think it's different, for different people," Vax admitted after a long moment, left to fend for advice on his own. "I find the quiet of this place difficult. There's so little that needs to be done, and it's easy to focus on what's been lost. But I think that finding something to do in a day, every day - even small things - may help it. And being able to talk with someone, or have company at least."

Alcuin's expression softened as he looked at Vax. "Thank you for listening. You have been such a good friend to me. Your companionship means a great deal."

He offered a little smile and added, "Though feels very one-sided, and I do not only mean that I feel I owe you a debt. But you know so much about me now, and I know so very little about you. Which is not a complaint, but an offer."

Vax'ildan reflected a small smile back at him, though it looked heavy, like Vax's dark eyes, with other thoughts. "We have some things in common, the better I get to know you," he mused softly. "I've begun to learn what it is to live and serve at the will of a god." He also thought of Alcuin's mark, both proof of how he'd been owned by another and a means of freedom. His wings were rather like that.

"And I know what it is to miss someone so much that you can hardly seem to think or sleep without them."

Alcuin swallowed hard at that last bit. And thought of Vax's love, the one he would not stray for, even now, so far away. He wondered what it would be like to have someone love him like that. He had no illusions that Anafiel might have. Though perhaps with time...

He decided not to ask about her, not yet. Instead he said, "Will you tell me about your god?"

Perhaps strangely, it felt like a much more personal question than if Alcuin had asked about any of the others - even Keyleth. Even Vex'ahlia. Vax was silent for a long moment, and he debated it in earnest.

"I don't...speak of Her often," he said by way of explanation. "I'm still trying to make sense of it myself." It wasn't a refusal, so much as an acknowledgement of his difficulties. Vax didn't have a pretty summary, a history lesson, and a motto as neatly worded as Alcuin did for his own deities. He was well aware of how awkward a Champion he made.

"You don't have to speak about it if you don't want to," Alcuin assured him, and then offered another little smile. "I'd be happy to hear whatever you might want to tell me about yourself."

Vax had no doubt that Alcuin would let it be if he wanted. Though it was true that Alcuin had given so much of his own story, and Vax remembered what MacCready had said about parity.

"They call her the Raven Queen," he went on after a beat. "She is the goddess of death and fate."

Alcuin nodded solemnly. "And... it is because of her that you had the ability to save my life?"

Vax'ildan gave a nod in return. "That's right. I don't... She doesn't tell me why some live where others would die. But I don't think it was entirely coincidental that I found you when I did."

"Then I am grateful to both of you," Alcuin said quietly, and meant it, too.

"Is... there some way I might thank her?" he asked. "An offering? A prayer?" He already felt the loss here, of no temples to Elua, to Naamah.

"If we were in my lands, I'd send you to a temple, for the guidance of her priests," Vax explained apologetically. Though to be sure, he'd come away from his own visits with more questions than answers.

He thought on it, then gave Alcuin a serious look. "If you mean that... One of Her tenets is not to pity those that die. Death is the natural end of life. It's one thing to mourn, to make peace with the death of a loved one, and another to let it consume you." Vax didn't think he would need to say how it applied to Alcuin's own story for him to take his meaning.

Alcuin understood. And honestly, it was a nice thing to hear. "Perhaps that is a canon that may help me," he said quietly. "Thank you."

He looked at Vax for a moment and then said gently, "In some ways, it may be easier for me over time. That I left behind death and not life."

Vax'ildan gave him a small twist of a smile, for the irony of it. He wouldn't try to tell Alcuin that it wouldn't still hurt, that his nightmares would surely cease, or that all would be made right by time. Fuck those stale platitudes. But if Alcuin was strong enough to continue to try, if he could still take joy in the world around him... That was as much as anyone could hope for to see them through.

"I think you've plenty of life to be lived yet. And death does seem rather final." Usually. One would think. "If there's anything else that can be done... For as strange a place as this may be, you're not alone in it. Truly."

Alcuin bit his lip, hesitating a moment, and then threw his arms around Vax, hoping that the gesture would not be unwelcome. But he was so grateful for feeling less alone.

It was something of a surprise, when Alcuin reached to embrace him. But Vax let the boy have his grasp, then shifted arms from under his cloak to fold around him in kind. He would never begrudge a friend in earnest need of some support, a kind word or a reassuring touch - and he'd already decided that Alcuin was that. So he held him fast, shifting the fall of feathers to drape over Alcuin's back, wrapping him up for some moments.

"You're right," he agreed, a sincere murmur. "It's a lot."

"Thank you," Alcuin whispered. He was grateful for Vax. Especially now that he had told him the entire truth about himself.

And he would still take him to bed in a second. He wanted to. But he also had a great deal of self control, and he treasured their friendship too much to risk messing it up. After that first misstep it was as if he'd been given a second chance.

Vax knew from fuck-ups. He made them often enough. And if he was ever too paranoid or too pious or too heartbroken to acknowledge how easy it could be to find himself in bed with someone as lovely as Alcuin, that was his own issue entirely.

"Maybe you'll sleep better now," was the comfort he offered instead, limbs sliding to let Alcuin go again after a long moment. "If not tonight or tomorrow, soon at least."

Alcuin did not tell him the truth, which was that he thought what would actually help would be to be with another person at night, even chastely. But that might seem like a request, which would be crossing a line.

"I hope so," he said instead with a small smile. "Thank you for listening, Vax. Perhaps it helps a little, just having someone here know my story."

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Nightmares

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