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The camp was shoddy at best. Hap-hazardly put together tents ringed around a singular campfire. Those who weren’t seriously injured huddle together in clusters just outside the ring. Resting against logs or rocks most were already snoring, leaving only the insomnia-bound awake.
The tents were reserved for the severely wounded. Luckily the wild hunt attack left no fatalities(most likely thanks to the sudden appearance of Flins), but that didn’t mean some weren’t in serious need of medical attention.
Illuga has already assigned shifts to look after the wounded, assisted in cooking, and helped in setting up the tents. All that was left was for a proper night watch, two people needed to survey the dense wilderness around them on either side of the camp.
“I can take first watch, but I’ll need someone else to volunteer.” Illuga called from where he stood between two tents.
“I’m afraid that won’t do, master Illuga.”
The ratnik turned around to come face to face with Flins. “Is this some round about way of volunteering?” Illuga sighed, his voice was scratchy from barking orders in the heat of battle, and far too tired for an argument.
Flins shook his head, “Alas, if I do that then you would surely find a way to further exhaust yourself. No, you’ve already done enough, let others take care of things for the rest of the night.”
Illuga almost laughed in the man’s face. But before he could protest a voice spoke behind him, “He’s right.”
The Ratnik whirled around to face one of the members of his squad. While the brown haired woman smiled at him, her eyes were glossy and reflected a deep pain, almost looking past him entirely. “You didn’t even sleep the night before this. Let us take the reins, just for tonight.”
“Yes,” another woman stepped up behind her. This one younger, with muted blond hair and eyes that despite being worn with exhaustion actually looked into his. “We can take first watch, then we’ll deal with shift changes.”
This was always the worst part. Everyone here needed rest. They were all far past their limits, Illuga could tell the only reason these two were volunteering was because they were incapable of sleeping. But still, if Illuga could just take on one more burden, to let his squad rest a little more. Then maybe his mind could become occupied enough to stave off its constant unease.
“No, I can’t. I can see you're both tired. Even if you can’t sleep you should at least try.”
But the blond was already pushing a sleeping bag into his arms as the other implored, “That’s what we should be telling you captain. You’ve done most of the work in getting the camp set up on such short notice, if anyone deserves rest it’s you.”
The blond spun Illuga around and pushed him into Flins, “Take good care of our captain okay? Make sure he doesn’t find any more ways to overexert himself for the rest of the night.”
Flins smiled politely as he steadied the Ratnik against himself, “Of course,” he nodded to the two women before moving to guide him away, “Come now master Illuga, let’s find a proper place to settle.”
The Ratnik tried to squirm away, but firm hands on either one of his shoulders kept him secured as he was pushed along. “Sir Flins, please, this is unnecessary!"
“My, I find it quite hurtful that you would lie to my face like this master Illuga.” Flins jested, moving to take the sleeping bag from his grasp. Laying it out a bit further from the fire than the rest of the Ratniki the sleeping bag was much bigger than Illuga, specially tailored for two to decrease the chance of hypothermia on frigid nights like these.
Flins unzipped the side and held it open for Illuga, who gave him a defeated look. “Is there really no way to convince you I’m fine?” He sighed, eyes already traitorously wandering to the padded interior of the sleeping bag while the slivers of skin between his sweater and coat suddenly felt all the colder.
Flins merely smiled at him, not moving until Illuga caved and crawled under the covers. It was when he zipped the sleeping bag back up and leaned to sit against a tree to the side that the Ratnik was blindsided by a sudden pang of disappointment. Illuga startled at the realization that he was expecting or even hoping that Flins would lay with him, quickly rolling on his other side to avoid facing the man as his face grew a little more red.
Illuga squinted his eyes closed and willed himself away from this predicament. The sooner he sleeps, the sooner he can get back to work and not think about Flins. It was just the fatigue making his brain work funny, right, that and the cold. It was normal for Ratniki to huddle together and share their warmth, that was why most of their sleeping bags were designed for multiple people after all.
But the knowledge of that fact didn’t make the sleeping bag feel any less empty, barely half-filled by Illuga’s body. He curled further in on himself in an attempt to shake off the persistent chill to no avail. But with how heavily his mind and body weighed with fatigue, it wasn’t long until the cold formed into frosty claws to drag him down into a nightmare.
The dense maroon fog surrounded Illuga, it filled his senses—his being. Through blurred vision he caught the flicker of that eerie pink glow he has long come to associate with the terrors of the Wild Hunt.
Illuga stepped back on instinct, every nerve in his body screaming at him to run. He turned to do so but before he could flee multiple forms rushed past him. Their cries were unintelligible but he recognized them all the same as his fellow Ratniki.
No
No no they’ll died
I can’t leave them
I have to stay
I have to fight.
Illuga whirled back around and launched himself into the fray. Everything became a blurry mess of thrashing, cries, and pain. He couldn’t tell how many creatures of the Wild Hunt he had taken down, nor how many men he had lost. It was all one writhing mess that ended with Illuga lying face down in the mud, no signs of life—reanimated or otherwise—stirred around him.
It was cold. So so cold and it hurt.
Illuga didn’t bother to stop the wracking sobs that escaped him. It hurt so much. He was probably bleeding out. No one was around to save him or even put him out of his misery. He was going to die alone with no comfort at all, only brittle, numbing cold holding him as he sank into death.
He didn’t know how long he stayed there. Eventually his sobs became wails and he started meagerly thrashing, like a fish flopping desperately to reach water before it suffocated.
Then his flailing was put to a stop. Some sort of force had pinned his limbs. It should have been cause for further alarm, something to give Illuga another burst of adrenaline to fuel his fighting spirit. However, instead it was pleasantly soothing, enough so that he could feel his body sagging.
Warm…
Safe…
Please…
More…
Illuga’s cries sank into whimpers as he buried himself into the warm embrace. The dreary and muddy scene of the battlefield melted away with the heat, gently laying the Ratnik into nothing.
Drifting, sinking, lower and lower, until he finally reached something tangible. Something hot and solid to ground his trembling form back into reality. And with a weak groan Illuga’s heavy eyelids cracked open ever so slightly.
He didn’t particularly see anything, it was dark and he was pressed right up against something. Or rather, if he went off what he was feeling—arms wrapped securely around his waist and back, with legs tangled with his—then he was actually pressed up against someone. Which would mean that his fists were grasping and his face was nuzzled into a chest.
This should be startling considering he fell asleep alone, but Illuga’s brain was currently as foggy as the Final Night Cemetery. All he could focus on was how warm this person’s body was compared to the cold that chilled any point of his body not making contact. Even the corners of his wet eyes prickled with frost, this realization causing Illuga to press his face further against the other with a hiccup of a sob.
“Shhh…” a soft hush came from above him, the voice haunting familiar.
Peaking up Illuga’s hazy eyes locked with the glossy yellow ones of the man holding him. His voice was rough with sleep as he croaked, “Flins…?” The name came out more of a question, as if it was unthinkable that the lightkeeper would ever hold him so closely.
“It’s okay,” the hand on his back gently glided up to comb through his hair, “it was only a nightmare. Please, try to rest once more.”
Ah. So that was it.
Illuga’s mind had cleared enough for coherent thoughts to take place, and he used that to fit the pieces together. He must have been crying in his sleep again, enough so that Flins had slipped into the sleeping bag to comfort him.
Guilt and embarrassment came in a sudden flood through his chest, as well as the flutter of something else. It jolted him back to his senses, and he found himself sluggishly squirming in the lightkeeper’s grasp. “S-sir Flins I have already rested enough, I really should get back to work now…”
“Young master have you forgotten?” The hand in his hair played with strands, a finger tracing circles in his scalp until hair was wrapped tightly around it before pulling out and repeating the process, Illuga just barely managed to keep himself from shivering. “Your squadmates have entrusted your wellbeing to me for the entire night.”
Illuga could only gape at him in lieu of a rebuttal, to which the lightkeeper chuckled, “Please, allow me to keep vigil over you tonight. With me by your side you can rest assured that no more nightmares will haunt your sleep. That finger twinging with his hair once more became a whole hand that gently pushed Illuga’s face back into Flins’ chest. “Besides, you were shaking like a leaf in here all by your lonesome, I can also provide some much needed heat.”
Once again the Ratnik found himself without a retort. Flins was warm. Really warm actually. Like being in his embrace as equivocal to sitting just close enough to a toasty fire without getting burnt. Against it Illuga found his body relaxing once more as he let out a soft hum.
As his mind was beginning to fog once more the Ratnik could feel Flins dip his head down, “Rest well, Illuga…”
Having his name whispered without titles against his ear affected him in a way that caught him off guard, jumping against Flins’ chest as his neck to ears flushed.
“My,” Flins practically purred, “I can’t say that was the reaction I was trying to elicit. But I can’t say I’m not pleased either.”
Illuga buried his face further into the man’s chest in a hopeless escape attempt as he muttered, “Please just stop talking…”
“Very well,” Flins hummed as he nuzzled his forehead against the top of the Ratnik’s head, “We may talk in the morning.”
Illuga’s blush faded with his consciousness, slipping into warm nothingness that cradled his essence for the rest of the night.