#dorkzilla

Day 5 of @ferarepair-week2k17 (and a bit of each prompt too !)

FE7, Karel & Heath, 1065 words

The sharp pain sliced through the light haze of sleep surrounding Karel's mind, ripping it to shreds. He hadn't realized what was happening yet, barely noticing that he was now awake, but his sword was already unsheated, diving towards the source of the pain. At the last second, the swordmaster held back. The tip of the blade stopped, barely two millimeters above Heath's throat.

For a moment, Karel stayed frozen in place, weapon pointed on his partner. The wyvern rider was tossing and turning, and in his agitation, the blade almost grazed the skin, which would have woken him up instantly. The thought of his frightened face, had he to wake up to the sight of the one he trusted ready to kill him, finally decided him to move. Slowly, he moved away, his muscles protesting against the unnatural gesture. It felt as if the blade itself was protesting and demanding the blood that was offered.

Eventually, his sword found its way back to its scabard. Karel sat there, almost breathless, listening intently. Heath was still tossing and turning, but he didn't make any sound indicating that he had been awoken. Same went from that lizard of his, who was still groaning softly, but didn't rip an arm or two off to defend his master. Its wing was still extended, sheltering his master and the person it probably saw as its meal-on-the-side, as it settled when they decided to stop in the middle of nowhere for the night. Everything was as peaceful as it could be.

A kick on the shins brought him back to reality. This time, Karel refrained to stab the offender. Heath was still moving besides him, so much that he was now totally entangled in his sleeping bag. Karel mused for a second about slicing everything to free him. But then, Heath would be cold. And wouldn't be able to sleep. And that would be Karel's fault, even if he was trying to help. And then, everything would be awful.

No. Bad idea. But then, what was he supposed to do ? If he couldn't free him, or wake him up, because let's face it, Heath was the worst sleeper he'd ever seen. Once awake, he'd never go to sleep, and he'd be exhausted for the rest of the day. No. Bad plan. But Karel didn't have any other one. He'd never been once to comfort people and help them. More like being the one making them cry and panic. And to be fair, he didn't have the tiniest, slightest idea of what he was supposed to do.

But something had to be done. Heath was still tossing, and small noises escaped his mouth from time to time. It didn't sound like the noises his tent mates were doing sometimes (Bartre was a first-class sleepgrowler), it sounded... pained. Or scared. Watching closely, under the slight light of the moon, he looked scared too. His features were strained, and he was frowning. Something was scaring him, something in his own head that he couldn't escape.

Finally, Karel decided to act. Slowly, he extended an arm, and laid it on Heath's shoulder. Immediatly, the rider's eyes flew open. His pupils were large, dilated, full of fear... and lost. Very lost. He looked around him, as if wondering where he was and what he was doing here, then he focused on Karel. For a second, he looked ready to bolt out of their tiny shelter. Karel was ready to run after him, to stop him from getting lost, or killed, or eaten, or whatever.

But, at last, Heath seemed to recognize him. While he didn't relax, his posture eased a little. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. Karel watched him intently, as much to be sure that he wasn't scared anymore, than to find a clue of what he was supposed to do. Protect, he could do. It only took a flick of his blade, and the threat was no more. But comfort ? Help ? No. That was outside of his abilities. But Heath was looking at him, all lost and young-looking and... were those... tears in his eyes...?

Those tears decided him to move. Slowly, like he would approach a small animal, or a scared-but-much-needed healer, Karel sat at his side, and laid a cautious hand on his arm. The rider all but melted against him, leaning his head against the offered shoulder. Karel froze in place. Usually, someone that close meant a threat and had to be stabbed. But that wasn't a threat, that was Heath, who he chose to follow, and who was in dire need of... something.

Slowly, clumsily, Karel lowered his hands and put them on Heath's waist, bringing him a bit closer. It was weird, but... not bad. Comfortable, even, in a way. The rider seemed to think so, because he relaxed against him. They stayed like that for a long time, in their awkward embrace, neither daring to move. Hyperion moved a bit behind them, still asleep. Maybe that was the moment to ask something, but what ? The usual ? Do you want me to kill something ? There was nothing to kill here, it wouldn't be of any help. Finally, Karel opted for :

- What was it ? The dream ?

He felt Heath shrug against him.

- It was... forget it. Doesn't matter.