I would place the discomfort at slightly less than being struck by the full force of the imperial carronade, and I walked across half the continent after that.
[Having spilled most of his secrets, he might as well get some use out of them.]
[It's a bad idea and food doesn't sound that appealing, but neither does continuing to sit in the dark and worry. He's in lousy shape, but he at least has his own strength and healing back, despite the death toll.
So it takes a while. But he does make it to knock on their cabin door eventually, tray in hand.]
Trouble takes just a moment to open the door, but only because they were
close by, waiting. When they step back it's very clear that they're heavily
favouring one leg.
"Come in. You're a sight for sore eyes, darling."
And when they've closed the door, they'll let him see how true that is: a
transformative shimmer reveals their badly bruised face, an assortment of
scrapes and bruises right across their body.
Fou-Lu takes one look in quiet calm, years of battlefield experience keeping him from upsetting them with a useless outburst. He sets the tray on the nearest surface and, moving smoothly, gathers them into a gentle embrace. He knows how to be delicate in this one respect, anyway. He stands on tiptoe to find a spot away from the bruising to kiss, just as softly. And that's about all his death-tolling body feels up to, but it can cope a little longer as far as he's concerned.
Trouble didn't know quite what to expect, except for Fou-Lu's predictable
grace and propriety. Being gently hugged and kissed, of all things, didn't
even occur to them. It's...
It's nice. They allow themself to think it's nice, so as not to have a
total breakdown on the spot.
"...Thank you. Please, sit."
Their cabin is a somewhat impersonal hotel room, but it's large enough to
have a couch.
There are healers here. Trouble knows that as well as he does, though, so he doesn't waste their time pointing it out, just lets himself be guided. If he sits down a little heavily, so be it. He manages not to wince. He can't really be paler than he already is, but there is something a bit ashen in his complexion as he settles in. "I hope 'twas no one you valued who did the deed." Because, if he's being honest, getting attacked by one and killed by another of his favored mortals did make the whole thing a bit worse.
"It hardly seems to matter. 'Twas not of their own volition." But, as Double Trouble hardly seems the vengeful type, and it was a bit upsetting, "B did the deed itself, and I hadst the ill luck to encounter Tiffany before that." He likes to think that she only damaged him as much as she did because he was reluctant to fight back, and that softened him up enough to be easier prey. Likes to think.
Trouble nods. They don't know either of them, and Fou-Lu is right. Even if
either of them could reasonably be held responsible, revenge isn't really a
part of their temperament.
He's not terribly comfortable with the word friend, but he nods, because that's close enough. "I am somewhat fond of both." Pure bad luck, he supposes.
They settle in closer, delicately laying their head on his shoulder. It's
strange to get inside somebody's personal space to do something other than
deliberately aggravate them.
"I don't doubt that the next few weeks are going to be excruciating."
He's still a bit afraid of touching them, but this close, he musters what strength he has and reaches out with his magic. It feels good just to have again, enough to be worth the effort, and with a bit of sparkle, he brushes his fingers close to a bruised cheek with cold clinging to them. A living ice pack is perhaps the most useful thing he can be. "At least thou didst avoid the memory-stealing. That atop this incident... wears on one."
"My power is sealed here, but my affinity to water hath not abandoned me entirely, at least." He doubts he can keep this up long, but if they're enjoying it? The air around them is a bit too dry with his efforts, but he manages to summon enough to cool both hands, pushing their hair back and letting his fingers trail lightly, avoiding the bruises directly but cooling close to them.
Unlike Trouble, he does have a vengeful streak, and it's probably best that he doesn't even know the pair of hands that did this.
The cold is lasting for now, though he can feel the slivers of magic trying to escape. "In port, yes. He went in search of thee after we spoke." And he got himself killed before he saw how that ended, but they can probably deduce as much.
"He did." And as he didn't think it worthwhile to ask Trouble why they didn't go to the infirmary with this, he leaves it up to them to open any discussion of why they sneaked away from him in the first place. Or not.
"I would have followed had I not been injured enough to slow the search," Fou-Lu says lightly. And then his magic does go out, the light fading, the cold slipping away to only the background air of chill that always follows him. "...'Tis the end of what I can maintain, I fear."
"Nay, at the camp." He doesn't want Jake blamed for anything he didn't earn. "He saw me as far as the central tent where the others were. 'Twas my own fault that the second blow came. I was close by, checking snares, and I underestimated the danger." He brought this on himself.
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Darling, no. I have death tolled before, and I can all but guarantee that you'll keel over about halfway through any task I'd give you.
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[Having spilled most of his secrets, he might as well get some use out of them.]
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...well, if you're absolutely intent on being a gentleman, I could stand to eat something. You could bring us lunch?
[They're still sure the trip will wipe him out, but at least he'll have somewhere soft to land.]
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[It's a bad idea and food doesn't sound that appealing, but neither does continuing to sit in the dark and worry. He's in lousy shape, but he at least has his own strength and healing back, despite the death toll.
So it takes a while. But he does make it to knock on their cabin door eventually, tray in hand.]
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Trouble takes just a moment to open the door, but only because they were close by, waiting. When they step back it's very clear that they're heavily favouring one leg.
"Come in. You're a sight for sore eyes, darling."
And when they've closed the door, they'll let him see how true that is: a transformative shimmer reveals their badly bruised face, an assortment of scrapes and bruises right across their body.
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Trouble didn't know quite what to expect, except for Fou-Lu's predictable grace and propriety. Being gently hugged and kissed, of all things, didn't even occur to them. It's...
It's nice. They allow themself to think it's nice, so as not to have a total breakdown on the spot.
"...Thank you. Please, sit."
Their cabin is a somewhat impersonal hotel room, but it's large enough to have a couch.
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"Nobody I even knew," Trouble says, waving a hand and delicately disposing of the entire ugly matter. "And who was it who...?"
Did the deed to him?
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Trouble nods. They don't know either of them, and Fou-Lu is right. Even if either of them could reasonably be held responsible, revenge isn't really a part of their temperament.
"Either of them friends of yours?"
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"That's very bad luck, darling."
They settle in closer, delicately laying their head on his shoulder. It's strange to get inside somebody's personal space to do something other than deliberately aggravate them.
"I don't doubt that the next few weeks are going to be excruciating."
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"I can't imagine," they murmur, shivering in pleasant surprise at that cold touch. "Oh. I didn't know this was among your many talents."
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Unlike Trouble, he does have a vengeful streak, and it's probably best that he doesn't even know the pair of hands that did this.
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Trouble hums, their eyes falling closed. Even if this does end up being a momentary pleasure, they'll enjoy it while it lasts.
"...Have you seen Jake recently?"
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They can.
"...Did he mention that he'd already run into me, or was this a little earlier on?"
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Trouble rolls their eyes.
"Ugh. Idiot. I would have thought that he'd have gotten the hint when I left him to his own devices in the first place. Why didn't he stay with you?"
The question isn't why Fou-lu didn't stay with him. Jake's meant to be the responsible one.
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"It's alright, darling, I didn't ask you here for the fringe benefits."
It's said quickly, that whole matter dismissed in favour of:
"You were injured and he left you alone in that wilderness? I'm going to - I don't know. He won't enjoy it."
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"Nay, at the camp." He doesn't want Jake blamed for anything he didn't earn. "He saw me as far as the central tent where the others were. 'Twas my own fault that the second blow came. I was close by, checking snares, and I underestimated the danger." He brought this on himself.
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"I'm still annoyed at him," they decide. "He found somewhere safe and then just decided to go swanning off on some heroic quest regardless."
They're not preemptively worried that he was hurt or killed and that it'll feel like their fault! Not at all!
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