WHO: Shaun Gilmore & Vax'ildan WHAT: Gilmore wakes up! WHEN: About 8ish hours after Interitus got taken care of WARNINGS: Light angst, otherwise kisses and schmoop ART:Here
After his not-so-minor meltdown a few days prior when Gilmore teleported next to him before falling into their bed, Vax had felt as though he was on a rollercoaster akin to one of the ridiculous ones in the theme park based on their world. He had oscillated almost violently between an all-encompassing need for distraction, to fix things, to do something and the fraught ache in his chest that kept him from doing much more than sitting at the side of their shared bed, memorizing the shapes of glowing runes that he couldn't read upon Gilmore's skin and brushing his fingers through his partner's dark hair. He had both wanted to stay there, protecting Gilmore from whatever new thing might creep up while the other man was in such a vulnerable state, and actively going out and searching for whatever it was that had done this to him in the first place.
Mostly, though, he had done the former, staying at Gilmore's side. He'd carefully removed the accessories that Vax knew weren't enchanted, putting them all in their correct spots; he'd watched Gilmore ready himself for bed enough times to be an expert by now. He had gingerly put him into his favorite dressing gown, kept his hair pulled back, and potentially placed too many of their too many pillows around him. And then he waited.
And then it was over. The big bad was vanquished and the world, it seemed, was slowly beginning to right itself. People were waking up here or there, providing hope that everyone eventually would. The rot and decay was righting itself as magic was being restored. They would all go on to live and fight another day, having survived just one more impossible hurdle that Vallo had thrown at them.
It had been too much to hope that, upon his return to the Xhorhaus after all was said and done, that Gilmore might be awake himself. But despite the persona that too many believed that Vax'ildan was all brooding and pessimism, he was, in truth, a hopeful optimist at heart. Shaun would wake, he kept telling himself. He had to.
Which brought Vax to this moment, wherein he was sitting in their bed, back up against the headboard. In his lap was a book (Feathered Leather, a smutty one that called to him for reasons he didn't want to examine too deeply), with one hand working to flip pages as the other smoothed through Gilmore's hair in slow, even strokes as he held onto that hope and he waited.
Falling asleep had been about as anti-climactic as it sounded. Gilmoreâs sense of the world around him had been limited to knowing that this slumber was unnatural, but everytime he came close to breaking the surface of consciousness, he was shoved down all the deeper for it. He had been too tired to even dream. But his magic, that he knew sure as anything was in use, pulled out of him in glyphs that bloomed so naturally to the surface of his skin. There was magic, when there shouldnât have been any left, and that was the real secret of the runechildren.
The battle ended, the enemy slain, the heroes returned home to recuperate and Gilmore slept on. Now, it was a different kind of sleep, actual, restful sleep instead of the one that came from serving as a magical battery for a week. One by one the runes dimmed and snuffed out, until the very last one on Gilmoreâs forehead, the rune that always manifested first for runechildren, faded.
When it did, almost like clockwork, Shaun blinked awake, hazy, and a bit confused as he worked out the timeline of being in the store, getting Dorian to safety, teleporting back to Xhorhaus and all but collapsing in a heap. What he wasnât confused about, however, was the near overwhelming rush of love for the man next to him. Overwhelming and yet now, after a year, familiar and comforting. He took a moment to come back to himself, yes, but also to watch Vax. His slightly pointed ears and his cheekbones that were able to cut glass revealing one side of his heritage, the faint dusting of freckles dotting said cheekbones the other, his hair mussed and with braids and beadwork that desperately needed to be redone.
And he was sporting a black eye, because, of course.
âWell now, if that isnât the most beautiful of sights to wake up to, Iâm not entirely certain what is.â
With anyone else, Vax might have been embarrassed when he gave a little jolt of surprise; whether that embarrassment stemmed from just being caught off guard or from being caught off guard because he was engrossed in a smutty novel, he would never tell. It hardly mattered, though, when he looked down to meet the always beautiful, open eyes of Shaun Gilmore. He let out a huff of a breath, something caught between a sob and a laugh, tossing the book to his side, forgotten.
It felt a little familiar, a thought that Vax had been needing to actively push aside over the course of the past few days. The memories from home kept wanting to surface, of finding Gilmore in the wreckage of his shop, unconscious and bleeding out. This wasn't that situation and it wasn't home, but the horror that Vax had felt when he'd recognized the pile of purple for what it was back then would rise up, unbidden.
Gilmore had flirted with him then, too, and Vax hoped to hell the man would never change.
"I could say the same about you." Vax turned on the bed, better facing Gilmore and reaching to cup his cheek in his hand. He breathed a soft chuckle, ignoring how wet his eyes were feeling even as his mouth split into a smile. "Hey."
âFlattery will get you everywhere, my love,â Gilmore murmured in return--which, actually, given the lack of use of his voice for some days, was probably not in the sultry tone he intended it to be. The following roll of his shoulders had him wincing, and he considered the bits and pieces of him that cracked and popped from being so stationary. âWell, in a few hours it will.â
Gilmoreâs arcane focus was once again a miasma of swirling purple energy, but just to be certain he quickly cast Prestidigitation--and because he looked a rumpled mess and that simply would not do. That done, and relieved his magic had settled back into place, he looped his arms around Vaxâs neck, and pressed his lips to the ridge of Vaxâs jaw, right where it met his ear. âHow long has it been?â On the bridge of his nose, Gilmoreâs question was, âIs everyone alright?â and at his eyebrow, above the black eye. âThis is new. Battle, or a door?â
It wasnât his wittiest of joke, but it was an easy one that he knew would break up the concern still lingering in Vaxâs gaze--because for all of the mostness that Shaun Gilmore was, for all of his love of panache and flair, that sort of attention had never settled well with him. Heâd never been one for the adventuring life, and in this instance it hadnât even been adventuring that had done him in, even more embarrassing.
Each question and kiss made Vax's smile only grow, until he let out a bark of a laugh at the final one. Maybe it wasn't Gilmore's wittiest, but it was a joke and it was coming from Gilmore and Vax hadn't been sure just when he'd get to hear such a thing again in the past days that he'd been holding vigil. He'd kept hope, but there was nothing like this relief as he took hold of Gilmore's face in a gentle hold and kissed him properly, as rogueish as ever.
That very important task completed, he eventually pulled back with a grin given to Gilmore that rivaled the kiss in levels of rogue. But he had been asked questions, very important questions that deserved answers, so Vax could concentrate long enough to give them.
"Around three days," Vax started before quickly adding to assuage any of Gilmore's worry, "and everyone is okay. Everyone is still recovering in one way or another, I think, but we're all here and all right. The source of everything that was happening was found, so naturally," he straightened up a bit, chin lifting in what might have been pride were it not for the teasing lift to his lips, "battle, thank you very much." His shoulders dropped and he leaned forward, forehead pressing to Gilmore's, right where that rune had been. "I had a pretty good reason to come out of retirement this time."
âWell, thank the gods for that,â Gilmore sighed out in relief. He laid a careful hand over the mark the Raven Queen had left on Vaxâs chest while he said it, because even though Gilmore wasnât religious (and took umbrage at how the Raven Queen had taken Vax at his word at an emotionally charged moment and then didnât communicate with him on his new responsibilities but that was neither here nor there) he still respected their bond. He pulled a face at the idea of being out for, âThree days? I should be at the shop now, actually, making sure itâs still standing.â
But Vaxâs warm weight was a comfort, and Gilmore went a little weak in the knees--alright, heavily weak in the everything, really, for his half-elf, roguish paladin life partner and so he reconsidered. âAfter you get everywhere first, of course.â
His hands ghosted over Vaxâs shoulder blades, right where the wings would be were he wearing the armor. âIâm sorry for worrying you, darling, up until the very end I was casting everything as normal, but I was exhausted. Quite honestly, it reminded me of being back in Whitestone.â Where Gilmore and Allura held up an illusionary barrier in a small attempt to keep the city-state out of eyeshot, earshot, and even scrying from those who worked with and for the Chroma Conclave. It took its payment in the form of the amount of magic needed to charge the barrier, but it was a small price to pay for protection for people who had already gone through so much.
Vax backed away a bit at that admission, just enough that he could take in Gilmore before him with a slightly more critical of an eye. He had, of course, been looking at him very closely the last several days, looking for any sign of wakefulness, but now he looked a bit closer. It was very easy to remember how Gilmore had looked during that time in Whitestone; Vax's worry had been thick then, despite that he hadn't known how much of it he was allowed to feel at the time.
Now, though, Vax knew exactly how much worry he could feel -- all of it -- and he didn't hold back in the way it furrowed his brow. Reaching up, he smoothed out Gilmore's hair before letting the hand slip behind his neck. "How do you feel now?" he asked, head listing to the side. "I know that is probably a daft question to ask after just waking up after a three day nap, but... anything lingering?"
Not that Vax could do too much if it was, except, well. Who was he to pass up the chance at a joke? His serious expression softened into a slight smile as he teased, "You know I am happy to Lay on Hands, should you need it."
Three days of sleeping did not cause Gilmore to miss a beat, he sat up with just a hint of a wince that absolutely came from that sleeping and not from being of a sage age. And maybe from the literal mountain of pillows and blankets that made up their bed and thus proved difficult to get any sort of purchase but they were soft and Gilmore was a creature of comfort and thus did not care. He raised a hand forehead, his eyes closed as he issued a heavy sigh. âOh, I feel wretched, without a shadow of a doubt, a wretchedness that can surely only be cured by a most fervent Lay on Hands! And frequent application, I might add, you may need multiple castings to ensure its efficacy.â
That dramatic and only slightly sacreligious display lasted but a moment, he looped his arms around Vaxâs neck and kissed him, a chuckle breaking through. They did a lot of laughing, even at the same jokes theyâd made over and over again and it was his favorite thing (well, one of them at least, devious wag of his brow implied). It was hard to remember that just over a year ago now that the laughter hadnât come that easy and had instead been tinged with tension from things that had been said and things that werenât said. Hard to remember that just over a year ago their lives looked different--including thinking of âtheir livesâ as two separate entities and not one shared.
Gilmore was well aware he was staring like some sort of lovesick fool. Ah well, if the shoe fit, and his always did. âAre you alright, darling? The eye notwithstanding, that shade doesnât suit you.â
Was he all right? Vax considered it for a moment, reaching for one of Gilmore's hands only so he could lace their fingers together and press a gentle kiss to Gilmore's knuckles as he thought. He hadn't been okay, that much was certain. Vax was, without a doubt, an incredibly protective person, particularly when it came to his loved ones. Seeing Gilmore's decline, no matter how much the man had continued on as normal as he could until he couldn't any longer, had struck a chord in his chest that he had hoped he'd never have to feel resonate again. Now, on the other side of it, even with Shaun awake and smiling and kissing him and right here, Vax could only hope he wouldn't have to feel it again.
"I wasn't before," Vax admitted, because he was nothing if not perpetually honest when it came to Gilmore. That had always been his way with him, for better or for worse. "It was almost like we were finding you in Emon again, except this time there was no one I could yell at to heal you."
That was more doom and gloom than he had wanted to venture, but that just sometimes was the way when it came to Vax'ildan. Letting out a soft breath, he continued, "Now that you're awake, though? I'm more than all right." He tipped his head and let his cheek rest against Gilmore's knuckles. His gaze stayed lifted, unable -- and unwilling, in truth -- to look away. "The eye isn't great, but I'd have accepted a hell of a lot more to make sure you woke up. I tend to act a bit rash when it comes to protecting the people I love, you know." A very small, albeit rueful smile tipped the corner of Vax's mouth as he placed Gilmore on the same hypothetical pedestal as his sister; thankfully he didn't have to swear his servitude to a deity this time around. A black eye in battle was much simpler to manage.
âWhatâs that, darling? I had no idea,â Gilmore drawled, dry as the Marquesean desert he was raised in. Because of course he knew that, it was at the core of who Vax was as a person. And of course he couldnât be faulted for that, and shouldnât have been. Vaxâs being was about loving others and acting in love. Except. Except for when he was blind to his own safety and well-being, when he viewed his life as being worth less.
When Vexâahlia first remembered what Vax had done, given his life in service to the Raven Queen in exchange for her life she had said it wasnât what she had ever wanted. That even though it was a gift, it was also a burden. And what Gilmore had told her at the time, and what he very much stood by, was that wanting to live for someone was just as valid as being ready to die for them. And that was what he wanted, Shaun wanted years and years, and the grey hair Vax would never have (and, gods, that he himself would never have either) and--
That was a conversation for later, he thought.
âIâm not certain Iâm generous enough to share you with two gods,â was what he settled on, kissing that corner smirk because it was one of his favorites. âAnd I happen to be rather fond of you just as you are, thank you. Although,â and there, just in case Vax was worried, was the Shaun Gilmore Glorious Eyebrow Wag. âI wonât refuse a few less clothes, if you insist.â