Chapter Text
Cyfrin knelt by the river, plunging his hands into the cool waters, fingers sinking into the soft silt of the riverbed. He scrubbed as hard as he could, nails nearly scraping his own skin off, the sting of it sending shocks through his arms. The river should have turned red, should have washed away the grime and blood that permeated his skin. But there was no blood to clean. No thick, sticky residue to wipe away, no satisfaction of pulling himself from the river and feeling that dirty sensation fade with the rushing current. He sat with his hands in his lap, water soaking his trousers, and feeling no more clean than he had half an hour ago. His breath hitched, and he realized tears were streaming down his face, soaking the collar of his shirt. He grimaced, wiping them away with his forearm, more rushing to replace them as that grimey feeling spread to his face. Another part of him began to itch, a desire to embrace the grime, the blood, to curse the pitiful tears and relish in what would soon be more than just illusion.
“Is this a rude time to interrupt?” A voice asked from behind Cyfrin, cautious and quiet in its tone.
Cyfrin growled low in his throat in response, keeping his head low.
“I apologize, it seemed like you may have needed some company.” Cyfrin recognized the voice now as Gale’s. “I’ll leave you alone, then.” he said, disappointment in his tone.
“Wait,” Cyfrin turned his head, just enough to see the wizard, who had already made it a few paces back.
Gale paused his retreat, facing Cyfrin once more. Cyfrin moved himself over, pointing to the now open space. Gale sat down with a grunt, an arm’s length between them. He kept his eyes on the river, head tilted slightly towards the bristling half-orc.
“I assume you’re still thinking about Alfira, hm?” he asked.
“What do you think?” Cyfrin grumbled, taking a handful of pebbles and tossing them into the river. “I killed her, Gale. Outside of my own control. Gods, I hope it was out of my control.”
“You’ve been upset for days. Unless you’re a particularly talented actor, and, not to be rude, but previous interactions in need of a facade have proven you not so adept at such, I highly doubt one might be so remorseful about murdering someone.” he pointedly waved his finger as he spoke, a habit Cyfrin almost found endearing, if his his own fingers didn’t wish to tear Gale’s apart at the joint.
Cyfrin felt his face twitch as he pushed the thought away, an annoying tell he hoped wasn’t noticeable. “What if it happens again? What if it’s one of you guys?” He gestured vaguely behind him. “Alfira was killed inches from your head while you slept.”
“We can hold our own,” Gale said firmly, though even the nighttime betrayed the paleness that had crossed his face. “And Wyll suggested at dinner that we have two keeping watch at a time, from now on. We’ll work out proper shifts at dinner each day. Speaking of,” His tone softened. “I still have a serving of stew by the fire for you. And an ear to listen, if you want to stop by my tent at any point.”
“Thanks,” Cyfrin said quietly, pulling his knees up and resting his chin on crossed arms. “I guess. You can give my serving to Karlach. I don’t think I can bring myself to eat tonight.”
Gale let the silence sit for a moment, his expression awash with thought. Whether you could read those thoughts like an open book or an unadorned dust cover was a coin flip, one Cyfrin found both useful and annoying. Today the coin chose the dust cover. Cyfrin bit back the urge to tell the wizard to spit out whatever it was already and get it over with.
Finally Gale spoke, letting those thoughts free. “Whatever is happening to you, we will get to the bottom of it.” He put a hand out, hesitating before laying it on Cyfrin’s shoulder. “You’ve already done a lot to help us. It’s only right we return the favour.”
More silence before Cyfrin spoke, his voice low and timid. “Can you do that Weave thing again? Like at the party? I don't-'' he grumbled, turning his head away as the tips of his ears reddened. “I don’t remember the words.”
Gale smiled warmly, waving his hands and muttering the incantation. Silky ribbons of weave surrounded them, and Cyfrin felt his brain finally begin to quiet. The magic enveloping them both held him in a way he was sure he had never been held otherwise. He took a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and unfolding himself from his rather compact sitting position. He laid back, watching the weave swirl and dance, seemingly one with the clouds and stars above.
“I’m glad you find it as comforting as I do.” Gale flourished his hand, summoning a couple more waves of magic.
“My own magic is wild, unpredictable.” Cyfrin lifted a hand, threading his fingers around the wisps. “It boils within me, sometimes literally exploding from my body.”
Gale nodded. “I’ve seen it in action. Quite useful, no doubt, but I can see how that would be a very uncomfortable experience.” his hand wandered to his chest. “The threat of something unpredictable is an unfortunately familiar feeling indeed.”
“How long can you hold this magic for?”
“A minute more at most,” Gale waved a hand over Cyfrin, leaving behind a bright trail of weave. “But I won't be opposed to doing it again another night.”
Cyfrin felt as if he was floating, even the tadpole feeling somewhat sated as the weave around him settled and dissolved into his skin and the dirt that surrounded him. As the feeling faded, he looked to Gale, who closed his hand with a disappointed hum.
“Sorry, I fear that’s all I can muster for tonight.”
Cyfrin sighed. “Thank you. For,” he shrugged. “Everything, I guess.” he sat up, looking back at the rushing waters.
“It’s truly no problem, my friend.” he gave Cyfrin a small nod and a smile.
“I think the night will be a little more bearable, now. I’ll eat in a few minutes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You should probably get to bed. Big day tomorrow and all.”
Gale hummed, an almost disappointed tone in the short note. “Perhaps. Goodnight then, Cyfrin. My tent is open to you.” he stood up. Cyfrin watched the wizard walk back to his tent, soon after getting up himself and heading to the fire, picking up the still warm bowl of beef stew and quietly eating, watching Wyll and Karlach stir from their bedrolls as their watch shift started. His gaze shifted back to Gale’s tent, the gentle breeze making the base of its entrance flap and wave. He caught small glimpses of purple velvet and candlelight, and wondered if Gale was reading that new book he had found on the road.
“Heya soldier,” Karlach said softly, stretching away the last bits of sleep. “Good to see ya finally eatin’.”
“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Cyfrin stirred his bowl. “I felt a little better, figured I might as well.”
“Gale was worried sick about ya,” she looked at his tent. “Kept lookin’ to where you were sittin’ by the river. It looked like you needed some you time, so I convinced him to just leave ya for a few minutes.”
A small smile tugged the edges of Cyfrin’s mouth. “He sought me out eventually. It was nice, actually. Got me out of a little thought spiral.” he let out a soft sigh, still eyeing Gale’s tent. “That's sweet, that he was thinking of me.”
Karlach smiled. “Sounds like someone has a crush,” she let the last word draw out, her smile widening as Cyfrin stuttered.
“I- I don't, well-” He clicked his teeth, finally tearing his eyes away and looking at the ground.
“Ah! Oh my gods you do!”
“Shh!” Cyfrin looked around, face flushing as he saw Wyll almost obviously pretending not to be listening in on their conversation as he went through his pack. “Gods, you’ll wake the whole camp.”
“Sorry,” Karlach covered her mouth, speaking through parted fingers. “Aww, buddy, you and Gale would be so cute together!”
Cyfrin rubbed his face, tensing his jaw as he felt his cheeks flush. “I don’t want to push it. I accidentally revealed I wanted to kiss him when he showed me that magic trick at the party.”
“And?” Karlach asked, kneeling next to Cyfrin. “What did he say?”
“He said it was a ‘welcome image’. But-” he sighed, shaking his head. “I’m worried he was just being nice. He left pretty quickly afterwards.”
“So that’s why he won't stop talking about you!” Karlach grinned, shaking Cyfrin’s arm. “Gods, that man is head over heels for you when you’re not in camp.”
Cyfrin chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Cyfrin, buddy, it’s a damned miracle if we can get him to shut up in the first place, let alone keeping the topic from swaying to you in some way. He managed to find a book on wild magic recently, I think he said from that burning village? Anyway, he found a book on wild magic, and would not stop babbling about how fascinating it was. Mentioned a few things about ‘crafting weave’ to settle it but to be honest soldier, I think I zoned out after a minute of his ramblings.” she chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “What I was getting at,” she continued, her voice softer. “Is he cares about you a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I know we’ve got a lot on our plates at the moment, but I hope you two get the opportunity to, y’know, confess properly and mingle.” she meshed her fingers together. ‘I won’t tell ‘em until you’re ready, though.” she held up her hand. “On my honour.”
Cyfrin smiled, nodding gently. “Thanks. I hope we get that opportunity too.” he gave his bowl to Karlach. “Here, I think I’ve had my fill for tonight.”
“You sure, soldier?”
“Mhm, don’t wanna let it go to waste.”
“f*ck yeah!” Karlach pumped her fist in the air, taking the bowl and digging in, tail wagging behind her.
