“Ralehaut? Ral, it’s me. Can you hear me?” He pulled himself up into the dusty top floor, the flickering light from the lantern sending shadows dancing throughout the drafty place. The room was full of support beams leaning at hard angles, making navigation in a word tricky. Lore didn’t have much use for the space up here, he had hardly brought anything from home—well, his last home—and he hadn’t had the opportunity to accumulate enough unnecessary babbles that would require the space. He held the lantern high, turning and examining every corner thoroughly. When he faced the window leading to the roof, Lore saw him.

Ralehaut was slumped on the step in front of the window, his head leaning against a wall, and his knees pulled up to his chest. The shutters were still bolted shut behind him, though not without the sign of an attempt to get them open. His eyes were open, but unfocused. Ralehaut should have seen him as soon as he entered the attic, but it was only until Lore had sat down a few feet from him and set the lantern down that his pupils, thin and wavering, shifted in his direction. His breaths were slow and shallow as he recognized Lore’s presence but seemed to not be fully comprehending.

“Hey, Ralehaut,” Lore started. He discovered the last few times this had happened that saying his name was probably the best place to begin. “You’re in the attic, it’s pretty late. You got woken up again?” Ralehaut blinked at him, his expression remaining blank, then nodded just barely enough for Lore to see. Lore quietly let out a relieved sigh. Any kind of acknowledgment this early was a good sign. “It’s certainly not the warmest part of the house to be in but regardless I’m glad I found you. You’re safe here, Ral.”

Ralehaut watched him until he finished speaking, then his eyes began to drift away. Lore waited, not wanting to throw too much at him at once. Ralehaut took a slightly deeper breath, then exhaled, “The window’s stuck.” Lore felt a bit of satisfaction at that. He’d made the window’s new bolts himself, he still didn’t like to think about how long it took him to find Ralehaut on the roof the first time he saw this happen a few months ago.

“I’ll take a look at it in the morning,” he lied. Ralehaut didn’t respond, only continued staring into the dark back corner of the attic. Lore glanced that way, but only saw his own shadow cast by the lantern’s light. When he turned back, he saw that Ralehaut’s hand was shaking slightly. By instinct he reached out to take it, getting the largest reaction from Ralehaut yet as he hurriedly pulled away, and pressed his back into the latched window.

“Don’t-” he stammered. Ralehaut’s face was buried under his arms, Lore could tell that he was purposefully avoiding him this time. “Don’t touch me, please.” A swell of guilt buried itself in Lore’s chest, but he forced it to remain quiet. He pulled back a bit to give Ralehaut space.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.” He kept a steady tone, understanding and also affirming so that Ralehaut wouldn’t believe he’d hurt Lore by pushing him away. “Let me help you breathe a little easier. Remember the steps? Five seconds in...six seconds held...eight seconds out.” He performed each as he said them and repeated. Eventually he started to see Ralehaut relax as his breathing fell in line with his own. It was a slow process, but he could tell that bit by bit Ralehaut was returning to his senses. “That’s right, Ral. When you’re ready, can you focus on this lantern and—”

“How can you be real?” It was the accusation in Ralehaut’s voice that cut Lore off more than anything else. He was held in shocked silence as Ralehaut raised his head just enough from behind his arms to fix a single eye on him. “Why would anyone do everything you have done for...for me, unless you’re just another lie it put in my head.” Lore felt a flare of fire in his chest at the mention of that creature, the one who, years ago, had attacked Ralehaut and his fellow watchmen in the sewers of Waterdeep. It had the ability to enter minds, and had torn into and played with Ralehaut’s memories enough that there were times where he couldn’t tell what was true and what may have been put there by the creature. Even killing the thing hadn’t stopped its torments, and Ralehaut still lived with the scars of what it had done all these years later. Until now, though, Lore had never known that those doubts had gone this far. He swallowed, trying to push away the rage he felt towards that creature so he could focus. 

“I would hope I’ve made it obvious by now, Ral. I love you.”

“Why?” Ralehaut’s voice trembled but still held that accusatory tone. The realization that Ralehaut truly did not know the answer made Lore lose his gentle demeanor immediately.

“There doesn’t need to be a reason for me to love you, Ralehaut. Even then, you’re the person who spends hours in the market just trying to find ingredients for the tea I like. You’re the person who picked up chess—which I know you still hate—because you wanted to make sure I always had someone to play my favorite game with. You’re the one who waits to get up every morning, even though it makes you late, so that I don’t wake up alone anymore.” Lore didn’t hold anything back anymore, he would be damned if Ralehaut wasn’t going to hear how truthfully he said each and every word.

“I’m not going to just let you ignore everything you’ve done for me. Please believe me, Ralehaut, I love you because you deserve to be loved.” He waited for a response, but the bronze remained silent, and only stared into the corner again. Lore sighed. There wasn’t anything else he could argue, and Ralehaut was not in a place right now to be convinced. The light in the lantern flickered again.

“What are five things you notice about this lantern?” Lore asked, his voice quiet again. The attic remained silent. He didn’t expect he’d get an answer, then Ralehaut shifted, not moving from his spot but just enough that the lantern was in his line of sight.

“It’s new,” Ralehaut mumbled into his arm, “but it’s been used a lot. It has a place to fit a hood, but I don’t think you’ve ever put it on. It’s only lighting about a quarter of the attic. It...it made it less cold up here. And…” He pondered it for a moment. “...I don’t know, it’s just a lantern.”

“No, no, those are good,” Lore encouraged. “What about out the window? What can you see through the shutters?”

They continued like this for some time. Lore occasionally pushed for Ralehaut to go into more detail when it seemed like his focus was waning, but it worked to keep him there with him. Just as Lore was beginning to run out of things to describe, he saw that Ralehaut’s eyes had closed, and he heard a light snoring coming from him. Lore set the barely still burning lantern by the steps so it would light the hallway below, then went and carefully picked up the sleeping dragonborn in his arms. Ralehaut nuzzled into Lore as he carried him down back to their room, but stayed asleep.

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Prompts based on cutequeerpositivity's 2018 Pride Prompt List

AO3