Arc II: Cure for Nightmares [Elisha & Emory]

It was late in the evening when Emory made his way to the cleric's room. Rubbing sleep from his eyes with a small frown, he hesitated in front of the door. He was being silly, he should just go back to his own bed or study or something. Anxiety churned his stomach however, and Emory felt forced to open the door just a tad and peek in. 

"...Elisha? Are you asleep?" A brief pause and an embarrassed sigh followed. "I had a nightmare."

Elisha had been in bed, but his resting could be more accurately described as meditating rather than sleeping. He was propped up, comfortable, looking relaxed and at ease, and his closed eyes blinked open when he heard Emory's familiar voice. 

A nightmare? He very nearly echoed Emory's words as a question. "Just the one?" He asked lightly instead. That the other was having nightmares was not a surprise-- their entire household would probably be plagued by unpleasant dreams for some time to come-- but the fact that Emory had come here because of it was. Was it bad to feel so pleased because of someone else's distress? No, he decided quickly. That wasn't the sort of question he was used to asking himself. And why was he so pleased? He didn't know the answer to that one, so instead he smiled at Emory through the dark. 

He was only able to see Emory's silhouette obscuring most of the light from the cracked door, not that he had much of a need to see right now, so he didn't bother casting Light. Elisha scooted over to give the other a place to sit, patting the bed in a come here gesture. 

"Tell me about it, if you would like."

Hurriedly making his way into Elisha's room, Emory tried to close the door as quietly as possible as not to wake the others. He could easily see Elisha in the dark, already feeling a little better from seeing his smile.  

"Just the one, but it was a strange one, and I couldn't fall back to sleep after. You can cast sleep, right?" he replied as he shyly sat himself on the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Elisha.  

"I had a dream we were in the dungeon again. But we all got seperated, and I was alone. The monster came for me, and just when it was close enough, it changed into Korin. Then... Korin devoured me instead. I ended up in his stomach, and Keon was in there, crying. Then the stomach acid started to fill up and really hurt- that's when I woke up."

Emory looked to Elisha in the dark, frowning, trying to see what expression the other was wearing. "...It was more the anxiety that kept me awake, than how scary the nightmare was," he tried to explain.

"I could," he agreed. Though he relaxed as Emory asked about the spell-- it made sense, after all-- his contentment with being useful warred with a small pang of disappointment. In defiance to that, he wasted no time seizing Emory's hand for himself with one of his own, holding it while he moved the fingertips of his other hand in circles on Emory's back-- A comforting gesture he remembered from his own youth. 

Elisha nodded along to Emory's retelling, but blinked as Emory got about halfway. He had expected something gruesome or sad, but perhaps had not been expected gruesome and sad, and his mental image of events flustered for a few moments before catching on again. His smile was replaced with pursed lips-- thoughtful, tinged with concern, the expression was meant to display. 

"Your subconscious does not pull any punches, does it." He couldn't help but exclaim softly. The hand on Emory's back-- which had stopped right when Emory described that the dream hadn't ended when he was eaten, but instead continued inside of the stomach of Korin Derege-- resumed its slow circles. "... Not that I'm saying you were, but it's okay to be afraid." A short pause, then a slight topic shift. "You're worried about Keon, then."

Emory blinked, stiffening as Elisha claimed one of his hands. He averted his gaze, feeling his cheeks grow unusually warm as he relaxed just as quickly as he froze up. The cleric had a way of making him flustered with such bold but simple touches. With Elisha drawing circles on his back, Emory couldn't help but lean into him a little, giving a soft sigh. 

"Oh, yes. It does not," Emory groaned, "Usually I come to forget them minutes after I've woken up, but not this. Because... yeah, I'm worried about Keon." He turned to met Elisha's gaze in the dark, biting his lip before he went on to explain.  

"I mean, we knew it would happen. He'd die by Korin's hand, or hand us all in to save his hide. I'm glad it was the former but... Now he has no family. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

And Elisha had even taken great pains to make sure Keon knew the weight of the decision he'd be making. He was stunned when Korin had appeared to the group-- not because, well, Korin had appeared and then denounced his heir, but because Keon had not immediately turned on them and tried to salvage his situation. In any relationship, you were either Using or Used, and it was clear that Korin would never be the Used. That left Keon to the roles of Used or Nothing. It was a difficult decision to have to make. 

"Would you call Korin his family? Like... truly." He asked, genuinely curious. Family could be a lot of things, and he knew that Emory's family had been acquired and short lived. Elisha had parents, but as far as unconditional love went... well, was that what family was supposed to be? It was no wonder people reverted to ties by blood-- ties by blood was so much simpler. He meant to expand on his thoughts, but as his eyes finally picked out the shape of horns in the dark of the room, he found himself distracted.

The question made Emory shake his head almost instantly. "No, I would not. But I don't think Keon knows any better. I've been there, attached to the thought that there's hope that- never mind," Emory breathed a sigh once again, brows furrowing. He didn't know his parents, and were it anyone else, he'd tell them what kind of parents would leave an infant abandoned out on the street? But still, Emory held onto the hope he had simply been lost, that if he behaved and did better, they'd come back for him. He knew Keon had deluded himself in a similar way.  

"Keon was just an heir. Not a son. What a horrible way of thinking," Emory murmured sadly, but then he noticed how Elisha's gaze was trained on his horns. He awkwardly shifted, pulling his short tail from under him. He hadn't quite grown used to having it, or not sitting on it. Eventually, Emory conjured the courage to pry, "...Do you like them?" he asked in a timid voice.

He did need a moment to think about Emory's condemnation of that sort of relationship, and was thankful at the small distraction. Elisha let out a delighted gasp. "A tail, too?" He let go of Emory's hand, reaching to feel the shape of the end of it as he couldn't see as well. He'd cast Light by now, except that then he'd lose the excuse to observe so closely. "They suit you." He said, sounding extremely pleased. He reached up to brush a thumb against one horn, musing. "No growing pains?"

He held still so Elisha could inspect him as closely as he liked, making the excuse that Elisha was only entertained because of his interest in anatomy. He had to train his thought to make his tail wiggle in the cleric's hold, before answering his ever curious friend, "Hm... the tail more so than the horns. Lower back pain, and I have a bad habit of getting it stuck under me and the like. The horns... Honestly felt like a pimple breaking the surface, like... a very big pimple. But they're fine now. Makes taking care of my hair a little more tedious, but I like them too. I-I'm glad you think I suit them."  

Emory paused then to look for a way to brush past his bashfulness, before poking Elisha playfully in the cheek, "And you? Your relic... has it changed you much?"

"You be sure you're eating well. Ah, if I'd known you'd be growing bones, I would not have scolded you for the cheese. Be careful with your wrists in the meanwhile." Magically induced growth or no, one still had to be sure their body had the nutrients it needed. Then Emory turned the attention to him-- Elisha smiled defensively. "Well..." 

He didn't have to take long to think about how he'd respond. He'd been thinking about it since the very first time he felt the itch in his blood which prompted the very first change. The people he least wanted to find out were Shiloh and Sabin-- one for his opinions, and the other for his loud mouth. The people he least minded were Emory and Keon-- which was convenient, as he thought Emory was also the one most likely to accidentally figure it out. He could read surface thoughts, after all, and had a tendency to barge in before knocking and only becoming embarrassed about it after the fact. This, added with the fact that... well, they were displaced from the track of their lives and the only commonality was that they all had each other. His skill could be a key factor going forward. Miscommunication could be deadly. Elisha was very good at improvising, but support would be helpful. 

Still, he couldn't help the reluctance. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling-- he knew to anticipate disgust or distrust, even had grown to enjoy it. But that enjoyment had taken training, and surrounded specifically his interests. This was a new thing. "... Before we get too distracted. What do you suppose might distract Keon from that abandonment? That hope?" Elisha somewhat understood. Disappointment. Not being good enough. Unlike the other two, he had overcome his own hurdle of it by realizing he didn't need to stand up to his father's expectations-- he only had to stand up to his father. That didn't seem to be an option for Keon, at least not at the moment.

"Ah, I am! I have been more hungry lately... even enough to make me go and seek out a proper meal. Don't worry too much about me, hm?" Emory chuckled. He couldn't help but notice the practised smile and change of subject, so the sorcerer pressed on. "Well... what? Wallace must have something great in store for you surely!" Compared to the others, Elisha had changed the least outwardly. But Emory glanced to the other's marked hand - Elisha liked to conceal things. Perhaps he had grown scales? Or new magical abilities?  

He entertained the other's question about Keon though, giving a low hum before shrugging. "I mean... I didn't give up hope until I had met Ozul. Until he gave me a goal to complete. Perhaps all we can offer is our company, and hope that being in the Empire can spur him into taking action. Some work he can throw himself into. He just needs to learn he has to make himself happy, rather than his father."

"That sounds wise." He likewise hums in thought. "... Speaking of company, we... as in, all of us... are sticking together, yes? Longterm, do you think?" He looks out the window, where the silhouette of the strange flora makes shapes in the darkness. He would hate to have to start over with a new group of acquaintances. He had often thought about one or a few of them striking out on their own. Sabin was strong enough. Shiloh too, probably. He would not blame Rus for finally running free, nor Keon if he blamed them all for his loss of his father.

"...I honestly hadn't even thought about that. It's not like we have the Lamb House to bond us anymore," Emory murmured, squinting into the dark. "Perhaps that's something to discuss. But, considering we weren't deterred when we discovered Evelynn's ghost, or when the monster claimed more lives, or when we discovered the conspiracy that could cause a world war if it hasn't already- I think... we're together until we see this through."  

Gazing down to their hands, Emory gave Elisha's a comforting squeeze, "I can promise I'm here until the end. In too deep and all that. We all died together, that's got to mean something, right?"

Until we see this through. Elisha thought about how long that would be, was feeling a rising... something. But Emory's next words assuaged whatever emotion it was. He exhaled a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and nodded. 

"We died, and more importantly, were reborn. Maybe that is enough to make us family." He squeezed Emory's hand back. They-- all of them-- were his. Even the ones he didn't particularly like. Especially the ones he didn't particularly like. Feeling vindicated in his possessiveness, he finally released Emory's hand. Time to let down the walls. 

The warmth always started in his chest, moving with the course of his blood. It passed in a flush of heat, and left his skin colorless except for the tinged blush of blood. Looking close or seen through light, he was light enough that one could easily see the veins under the pale skin. The process was slow, though he felt with some practice he could grow better at it. He blinked blank eyes, and despite their state his expression seemed perhaps a little more human. "I think I may have changed the most, actually."

Emory's eyes weren't exactly full of life. Just as his heart and blood circulation barely murmured in existence, his eyes barely caught the light and were unsettling if one were to stare into them too long. But Elisha calling him- calling them all family had them sparkling brightly, something warm blooming within his own chest. He couldn't get out his words, so he just nodded vigorously in agreement.  

He was about to finally say something before his hand was released, Emory frowning as he immediately missed the warmth of Elisha's. It took him a minute to fully notice, too busy being distraught about no longer holding hands, before he looked up and met blank eyes. The tiefling startled, then immediately leaned forward, examining the cleric up close. "This is... you're a changeling- I've read about this! Oh, Elisha! You look..." His voice trailed off, growing embarrassed. Most would say he looked creepy - but not to Emory. Emory was disturbed by how much he liked it. (edited)

He was used to invading others' space, but wasn't used to being the object of interest in the same way for others. Elisha flushed under Emory's enthusiasm, deciding to take the speechlessness as a compliment. "... A little bit like a corpse," he finished, but sounded pleased and smiled at his own jest. He gave Emory a few more moments to observe, feeling and looking uncharacteristically sheepish, before changing back again. Not that he didn't like being the center of attention, but all his emotions felt too raw and new in that form, like he had to experience them all over again after so long of being in firm control of them. 

"Anything interesting to note about changelings? You likely know more than me."

He couldn't help but grin mischievously, his canines just a bit sharper than usual. Emory was pleased he could turn the tables for once, and to see such rare expressions upon Elisha's face. Emory have a slightly disappointed groan as the cleric changed back to his first persona, before answering his question. 

"Oh! Similar to doppelgangers, really. Changelings make very good spies and assassins, because you know, they're very good at blending in. There's not much in a way of like... history for them, at least, from what I've seen. Probably because they're so well hidden," Emory explained. "Hm, the Palace should have a library... we can look up stuff together- Have you tried changing into someone else?" (edited)

The sharp and delighted expression of mischief on Emory was probably almost his favorite, second only to when he was flustered. It made the feeling of being on the receiving end of the treatment tolerable, and when his own vulnerability was tamped down it was replaced by a tiny bit of competitiveness. Oh, he would get gentle revenge. 

"I would appreciate that~!" He wasn't as deft around books as Emory, and it would be nice to do something a little familiar. "And I have. Would you like to see? I'll need a little light." He moved to bring a pillow around and cast Light on it-- needed to get an updated look of Emory's face.

Realising what Elisha was up to, Emory shifted so the other could get a better look. Turning his head slowly side to side, reaching back to pull his curls away so his new horns and pointy ears could be seen, he made a straight face, then a smile. Bared his teeth and opened his mouth. He wanted to cover all bases. 

"Okay, let's see... I'll give you a rating out of ten for accuracy, extra points if you act out a good impression of me," Emory chirped excitedly, thrilled to be witnessing Elisha experimenting with his changeling abilities. (edited)

He hadn't before noticed the color of Emory's eyes-- the dark color was intense, making him look more focused. Elisha couldn't help but laugh lightly as Emory made his displays, but it was helpful. 

"Ah, one moment. Let me get another look at your teeth. I don't often get to observe the insides..." He seized Emory's jaw firmly, and while he did so he changed, taking on the other's visage. Emory's face, Emory's hair, Emory's cute little horns and cheeky fangs. Emory's dark eyes with the lovely purple irises. He smiled, features unfamiliar only in their expression and intention, and kissed Emory with his own face. 

Revenge.

Emory fell for it completely. He was enthralled with how the other's face warped into his own, not an illusion like Disguise Self, but the flesh magically changing. Silly Emory had leaned closer just before his jaw had been seized, and his lips were easy pickings.  

The sudden warmth on his mouth caused him to loudly gasp, eyes wide with disbelief, then embarrassment. He squirmed  but not to get away from the cleric. Emory whined with a hiss of exasperation, "Elisha! My first kiss can't be with myself!"

Elisha continued to hold his face, leaning away with a delighted laugh.

"Ahaha aw, consider that just, mm, practice, then?" He blinks his (or rather, Emory's) eyes innocently. "Who would you want it to be, if it's that important?"

The laughter made his poor heart flutter even more, Emory scrunching up his nose with a pout as he was teased. 

The question had made him quiet for a moment. He truly could kiss anyone if he asked Elisha too. But... where was the fun in that? And Emory also couldn't ignore how he sought for comfort from Elisha instinctively. Had he not made it obvious enough? 

With a grumpy snort, Emory placed a hand on top of Elisha's and grumbled, "...Who do you think?"

"... ?" Elisha had been waiting for a name, poised to tease Emory again as an outlet for the anticipated pang of jealousy that would no doubt rise with the answer. Or he'd been expecting to be pushed away, with Emory complaining adorably at how he was being pestered. Instead, Emory implied that he should already know, and the vagueness of the words left him wracking his brain-- had Emory been giving hints? Making passes? At who? Certainly it wasn't Lee, that ship had sailed. Couldn't be Sabin, nor Rus, nor Shiloh. Elisha wasn't as familiar with how Emory and Keon interacted. 

Was it... Himself? 

Emory's features melted away from Elisha, leaving him once again washed out and staring (literally) blankly at the other man. "... ???" People weren't supposed to take that interest in him. Elisha was a bully on purpose. He sought out other people's discomforts not just to solve and fix them, but to hold it as ammo to poke fun at them. His interests and his humor made people uncomfortable. He made great efforts to be pleasant but he wasn't nice and he knew it. It had always been strange how Emory seemed drawn to his company like a moth towards flame. Realizing that, it seemed to click in his mind. 

"... You've made a mistake." He finally managed to say. It wasn't a denial, nor an admonishment. It was a warning, spoken with fond warmth. He finally let go of Emory's face, seizing the hand which clasped his and pulling the other closer and down so he could kiss him on the forehead. Did he love Emory? He honestly didn't know. But he wanted him. Not in a lusting way... but perhaps a little childishly, he wanted more of his attention, and more of his concern. Though Emory was darkness and shadow, there was a brightness and a depth to him, like obsidian stone. It piqued Elisha's curiosity and inspired his greed.

The awkward silence was awful, Emory realised. Maybe he should have been more forward. Sure, Emory fancied plenty of people. Many were interesting, mysterious, good-looking, but most of those feelings were fleeting. Something that blossomed and wilted as quickly whenever someone noticed him and his imagination got the better of him, and he doubted he was good at hiding this fact. 

Elisha however saw right through Emory, and wasn't scared of the shadows that would stare right back at him. Elisha seemed to enjoy it actually - which was a relief. He had always feared that others would turn away from him, flinch from his cold touch, complain about the darkness that followed Emory. But not Elisha. And Emory wasn't scared of the other, either. He appreciated Elisha's morbid sense of humour, and his fearlessness when it came to being blunt and asking the real questions.  

He didn't care that the other wasn't 'nice', Elisha was someone who cared in his own special way, at least Emory liked to think. And he wanted to be cared for by Elisha, which made him smile as he recalled their conversation at the Halloween party. If he had to pick someone to hold hands with in the dark, it'd be Elisha.  

"I'm forever making those, but this one... I don't particularly mind making it," Emory replied once the silence was finally broken, allowing himself to be pulled closer for a forehead smooch. Pulling back to meet those blank eyes, Emory gave a lopsided grin before planting a very timid and clumsy kiss on Elisha's mouth.

In all of his clumsy earnestness, Emory had passed the point of no return. This honestly frightened Elisha-- this level of acknowledgement of another's feelings came with a slight sense of dread. That Emory was putting himself in Elisha's power willingly was foreign. He felt like he'd been handed a glass scalpel. Compared to the chill of that, the cold of Emory's lips was nothing. He let himself be kissed, then kissed Emory back in turn, lips warm but chaste. After a moment of looking concerned, he allowed himself a tentative smile. It would be some sort of learning experience, for the both of them, that much was sure. 

"You could stay here tonight. For the nightmares, of course."

"...For the nightmares, right. I had completely forgotten," Emory murmured shyly, reaching up to brush a curl away from his face. Well, he had gone and said it, and done it. But... just as Emory would give Elisha his liver for a tasty meal, Emory would give him his heart too. Maybe it was his subconscious deathwish, or maybe he just really liked Elisha that much. Either way, he was happy to snuggle... although he didn't know how to prompt Elisha into doing so.  

"Are you going to turn off the light?" he asked, pointedly staring at the glowing pillow. As much as Emory doubted the pair would get up to much, the idea of spending the night with the cleric had his palms sweating and his unsteady heart beating loudly in his ears. He shook his head of any romantic or devious thoughts and began to tuck himself under the covers.

"A shame I can't see how flustered you are in the dark," he complained, but dispelled the Light cantrip on the pillow. The room was plunged in shadows, and it would take his own eyes a moment to adjust. At the same time, he drew on his colors again, and felt his nervousness ease. 

Shifting so that he laid down, he turned to place one hand on Emory's torso, near his heart. It was difficult to feel its beats, even harder to find any discernable rhythm-- but the steady breaths were enough for him to meditate on.

It took Emory a while to fall asleep, considering the adrenaline rush of his confession still coursing through his veins. But with Elisha's hand on his chest, he placed his own over it and scooted closer. Eventually, he dozed, with strange dreams still there to greet him but the anxiety and fear kept at bay for now.