Eldarya: Imagine

Ezarel | Arctic [3]

You get clothed in silence and eat in silence, the atmosphere turning awkward immediately after you slip out of the warmth of the blankets. You tell yourself to ignore the judging stare Eve gives you the whole time you get ready to depart.

If it were for you, you'd demand the two of you stayed in the cave for a day longer to make sure he's okay to go, but you know the mission's more important and also if you stay, your rations will not suffice till the end of your journey.

It takes you two less than half an hour to be out in the snow again, your companion following you closely this time instead of dashing over the snow drifts before you. It must be worried something bad happens again and neither you, nor Ezarel, comment on that, focused on getting safely to the town where Ezarel's supposed to help the mayor with whatever issue they requested him for while you are to gather information on the mysterious disappearances occurring there while staying undercover.

It's still two days until then though and in that a day before the two of you should part in order to arrive separately. But as the first day passes and you get up with difficulties the morning after, you need to support yourself on the tree you rested under in order to not trip and black out completely. As your free hand shots up to your temple you do not realise Ezarel's moving to your side until you're pressed to his chest. His palm presses to your neck and he curses in elvish, before pulling you back towards the ground and seating you on his lap as you lean on him for support.

Your head is pounding and you barely take the moment to think how you do not approve of the fact the man is pushing your outer clothes off you because you'd rather keep your dignity. All you can think of is that this is the stupidest thing to do when it's so fucking cold and your teeth are chattering against each other and you can't stop the loud whine from leaving your lips when the cold air hits your skin.

You curl up shivering in his arms as Ezarel lifts you and you hear him apologise (which is weird, because you just can't get him now but then again-) before he unceremoniously drops you in the snow drift.

"Cold," you wheeze out as you flail your hands to the sides, desperately fighting to get out the snow, but only more of it is thrown at you as a hand on your shoulder keeps you in place while you let a chain of curses flow out of your mouth.

They die out as the feeling of coldness turns into one of numbness and tiredness coming from the exercise and sickness pulls at your eyelids; and after some more time passes, Ezarel pulls you out of the drift and wraps you tightly in a set of blankets before pushing your face in the crook of his neck.

"You're hopeless," he mutters and you growl in response.

"And you're an asshole," you shot back tiredly, your body already relaxing in his embrace.

"You were much too hot. You wouldn't survive long with such high fever."

"I'm always hot."

You smile tiredly when he laughs at your words, fingers brushing through your hair in that soothing way that has you in half-sleep in a matter of seconds.

"Just rest. I'll take care of you, idiot."