Snowbaz one shots!

Bound in the goblin's lair

The smell was the first thing that hit Simon. It was dank and moldy, like something had died in the corner of the underground chamber. As he opened his eyes, his head throbbing with the aftereffects of whatever spell had knocked him out, he realized he couldn't move. His arms were bound behind him, tied so tightly that the ropes bit into his wrists.

"Baz?" Simon rasped, squinting into the darkness.

There was a groan to his left, followed by a familiar, annoyed drawl. "Wonderful. I wake up tied to a pillar, only to find you're still here. What did I do to deserve this?"

Simon exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. Baz was alive. "I don't know," he muttered. "Must've been really bad in your past life."

As his vision cleared, he could make out Baz tied to another stone column, his black hair falling in disarray over his eyes. Baz's expression was one of grim annoyance, which was a step up from unconscious, at least. They were in a cavernous room with damp stone walls and flickering torches. The air was thick with the earthy scent of decay.

"Where are we?" Simon asked, trying to twist his hands free of the ropes.

"Some kind of goblin den, I assume," Baz said with a huff. He glanced around the room, his eyes scanning for an escape route. "One moment we were on that hillside, and the next, I'm waking up here with the dubious pleasure of your company."

Simon scowled. "I was trying to help you, you know. There were too many of them."

"You mean there were too many for you," Baz shot back. "I was handling it just fine until you decided to play the hero."

"Fine," Simon grumbled. "Next time I'll let you get knocked out on your own."

Before Baz could retort, the sound of clanking footsteps echoed from a tunnel leading deeper into the lair. Simon's heart skipped a beat as several squat, hunched figures with leathery green skin and sharp, jagged teeth shuffled into the room. Goblins.

The leader, slightly taller than the others and wearing a rusty crown-like helmet, eyed the two of them with a malicious grin. "Wizards," he hissed, his voice like nails scraping across stone. "So rare these days. You'll fetch a good price, or perhaps we'll just keep you for ourselves."

Simon tugged harder against his bindings, ignoring the pain in his wrists. "You won't get away with this," he said, even though he wasn't entirely sure who would come to save them. But it felt like the right thing to say.

The goblin leader cackled, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, we'll see about that, boy." He turned to Baz with a sneer. "And you... you smell of old magic. Dark magic. Perhaps you'll be more useful to us after all."

Baz's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in his gaze. "Touch me, and you'll wish you hadn't."

Simon's heart lurched at the cold fury in Baz's voice. But before the goblin could respond, one of the smaller ones shuffled forward, muttering in their guttural language. The leader waved him away impatiently, then turned back to his captives.

"We'll deal with you later," he said with a final sneer, before the goblins shuffled out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Simon began twisting his wrists again, wincing as the ropes dug deeper into his skin. "We need to get out of here before they come back," he said, his voice tight with urgency.

"Brilliant deduction, Snow," Baz drawled. He was already working on the ropes binding his own wrists, his face a mask of concentration. "If only we had someone here with an overpowered magical ability to break these ropes."

Simon shot him a glare. "I can't use my magic without a wand, and they took it." He tugged harder, feeling a flicker of frustration. "Besides, what's your plan? Glare them to death?"

Baz let out a low, annoyed growl but didn't respond. Instead, he shifted his position, trying to work at the knot with his fingers. Simon could see Baz's muscles tense, the tendons in his neck straining as he tried to wriggle free.

There was a long, tense silence between them, broken only by the distant sounds of goblins grumbling and clanking deeper in the tunnels. Finally, Simon spoke up, softer this time.

"Baz... are you okay?"

Baz paused, his expression softening just a fraction. "I'm fine, Snow. This isn't exactly the worst situation I've been in."

Simon's shoulders slumped in relief, even though he tried to hide it. "Good," he said gruffly. "Because I can't—I mean, I won't let them hurt you."

Baz's eyes flicked to Simon's, something unreadable in their depths. "Worried about me, are you?"

Simon scowled, the heat rising to his cheeks. "No! I just—" He stopped himself, realizing it was pointless to deny it. "Yes. Of course, I'm worried. I always am."

Baz's hands stilled for a moment, his eyes widening just slightly before his mask of indifference slipped back into place. "Well, stop worrying and start thinking. We need to get out of here."

Simon bit his lip, forcing himself to focus. Baz was right. They could talk about whatever was simmering between them after they were safe.

Just then, Baz let out a triumphant sound. "Got it," he whispered, freeing his hands. He quickly untied his legs, then moved over to Simon, working on the knots with deft fingers. His face was so close that Simon could feel Baz's breath against his cheek, and it sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold, damp air.

"Thanks," Simon mumbled as the ropes fell away.

"Don't mention it," Baz replied, his voice low.

Before they could move, the door creaked open again. The goblins were returning, this time carrying rusty weapons. Simon's eyes widened, and Baz's grip on his wand—stolen back from one of the goblins—tightened.

"Ready?" Baz asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Simon nodded, his heart racing. "Let's do this."

The goblins stormed in, but before they could react, Baz was already casting. "Fire and brimstone!" he shouted, sending a blast of fire that made the goblins shriek and scramble back. Simon, now free, lunged forward, tackling one of the goblins to the ground.

"Up, up, and away!" Simon yelled, sending another goblin flying into the wall with a blast of his magic.

In the chaos, Baz fought his way to Simon's side, their backs pressed together. "You always have to be the hero, don't you?" Baz muttered, casting another spell that sent a wave of energy through the room.

Simon grinned, his blood thrumming with adrenaline. "What can I say? I like saving you."

Baz let out a huff that might have been a laugh if it weren't drowned out by the clash of steel and the crackle of magic. Together, they fought their way through the remaining goblins until the room was finally silent, save for their ragged breathing.

When the last goblin fell, Simon turned to Baz, his chest heaving. "We did it."

Baz met his gaze, his expression softening. "Yeah, Snow," he said quietly. "We did."

For a moment, they just stood there, the heat of battle giving way to something warmer, something unspoken. But before either of them could say anything, Baz cleared his throat, looking away.

"Let's get out of here before they send reinforcements."

Simon nodded, following him out of the cavern. But even as they ran, his heart was still racing, not just from the fight, but from the way Baz's fingers had lingered on his for just a second too long when he'd freed him.

Maybe there were some things Simon was finally starting to understand.