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Ororon comes slinking to Citlali’s home days after Victory, looking like a kicked puppy. Citlali eyes him skeptically. “What?”
“Grandma, could you do a check-up on me?” He rubs his arm. “You know how I was possessed by… one of Capitano’s old soldiers?”
She narrows her eyes. “Uh-huh…”
“I think I might be… still feeling some side effects.”
It’s little effort to run a cursory scan of his vitals. She assesses, "You're not possessed." She folds her arms. “Are you feeling any more fatigue, or pain, anywhere? Headaches?”
Ororon shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Grandma. Maybe I need some more rest.”
“Hmm.” She does another scry, but still picks up nothing out of the ordinary. “Are you eating your vegetables from your garden?”
Ororon scuffs his toes. “Yes, Grandma… I just harvested some today...”
She glares. “I ALREADY TOLD YOU NOT TO EAT THEM! THEY WERE COVERED BY THE ABYSS JUST DAYS AGO, THE SOIL STILL HAS WHO-KNOWS-WHAT DIGGING INSIDE OF IT, I TOLD YOU TO BRING THEM TO ME FOR CLEANSING BEFORE YOU PUT ANY OF THAT FILTH INTO YOUR BODY! BRING ME THE REST RIGHT NOW!”
“Yes, Grandma!” Ororon yelps, and scurries away.
After being thoroughly chewed up by Grandma, and sent home with approved pre-cooked meals, he trudges to the nearby Fatui Camp to take his lunch. The soldiers wave when they see him. One of them is feeding Amee. Ororon nudges her with his toes. “You’re supposed to be on a diet. Ifa said so.”
Amee sqwaks at him.
“Aw man, I couldn’t resist her face,” says Nathaniel.
“Most people can’t,” Ororon agrees. “That’s why she needs the diet.” He takes a clean rock and opens his lunchbox. Grandma had slipped an angry note onto the cover. Ororon will keep it in his collection of her other angry notes to remind himself on the dos and donts of integrating into society.
Today’s note says: “IF YOU’RE SO INTENT ON GETTING YOURSELF POISONED THEN TELL IFA AND WE’LL PUT YOU ON SAURIAN DEWORMERS!!!”
Nathaniel looks over his shoulder and whistles. “Your Grandma’s quite the spitfire.”
Someone (sounds like Dominik) says, “I wouldn’t mind her spitting on my fire.”
A chorus of groans. “Dude, that’s the kid’s grandmother.”
Ororon says, “Huh?” Dominik isn’t even a Pyroslinger Bracer.
Nathaniel claps him on the back. “Don’t worry about it, man.”
Ororon just nods. Plenty of people tell him not to worry about things. It doesn’t stop him from worrying anyways, but he’s learnt that people feel more at ease to think that he isn’t.
Speaking of worry…
“Is the Captain around?”
Some snickers. Afonya says, “Nah. He’s gone north to check out the other campsites today.”
“Oh,” Ororon says, sighing.
Another round of quiet laughter. Ororon doesn’t get what’s funny.
Nataniel nudges him. “Why so down, kiddo? Hope- pfft -hoping to see the Captain today?”
Ororon nods, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Finally, someone understands. “It makes me feel more at ease to see him.”
“Yeah, man,” Afonya says. “I feel you.”
Ororon perks up. “Really?”
“Definitely,” Filipp says. “Common side effect of working with the Captain.”
Ororon frowns a little. “Side effect…?” Is this still the lingering symptoms of the possession? But Grandma has already medically cleared him, and she’s never wrong… Or… “Is it the Abyss?”
“Shut up,” Nathaniel says to the group. To Ororon, “Kid, they’re just messing with ya. Ignore these clowns.”
“Oh, okay,” Ororon says, and goes back to his meal.
There’s a knock on Ororon’s door, bright and early the next morning. He stumbles over discarded laundry. Grandma will give him a scolding if she sees his room in a mess, but he didn’t have the energy to clean up yesterday. He was too busy thinking about…
“Captain?” Ororon wrenches the door open and blinks at his visitor. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you, as well,” The Captain says. “How are you feeling?”
Ororon blinks at him, and thinks. His heart has eased seeing the Captain today. “Good,” he says. “Would you like to come in?”
The Captain shakes his head. “That’s not necessary.”
“Grandma will be mad at me if I don’t show guests proper respect,” Ororon says.
“If you insist, then,” The Captain says, and then steps into Ororon’s tiny living room.
He hastily kicks a jacket under a table. “Please sit. I will make you a drink. What would you like?”
“Anything you are having is fine,” The Captain says. “My subordinates told me that you were looking for me yesterday.”
“Oh,” Ororon says. “I wasn’t looking for you. No, I was. But not for anything. I just wanted to see you.”
“...Oh?” The Captain says.
Ororon nods. “I feel… anxious, when you’re not around. I thought it might be side effects from being possessed by your soldier, but Grandma has already cleared me of symptoms.”
The Captain nods. “Would you mind, then, if I check again?”
Ororon shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”
The Captain extends a hand towards him, and his palm glows with a familiar warmth. It only lasts a few seconds. He shakes his head. “She’s right. You should be feeling no more abnormalities. When did the symptoms start?”
Ororon shrugs. “I don’t really know.”
“Perhaps it might be psychological,” The Captain says. “Guthred did not say anything to you, did he?”
“...I don’t think so.”
The Captain nods. “I will come to see you once a day, if it alleviates your symptoms. I will also speak to Citlali regarding further investigations into your health. Do you object to this arrangement?”
“...Please don’t tell Grandma that I didn’t sweep yesterday.”
There’s laughter in the Captain’s voice. “Rest assured, I will not.”
Citlali summons Ororon a while later, as Ororon expects. She has her arms crossed, foot tapping on the floor as she awaits his entrance. “Are you causing trouble again?”
“...No,” Ororon says.
“Then what’s this I hear about having the Captain wait on you every day, hm?” Grandma huffs. “The Fatui are now very important allies to Natlan, we can’t impose on them too much, understand, Ororon?”
“I didn’t ask him to, he offered…” Ororon shuffles his feet. ”And I’m still feeling the side effects… of the possession.”
Grandma sighs loudly. “The Captain is taking some responsibility over the trouble he caused you, then. Good. But I’ve already told you, you have no more traces of the possession. Tell your Grandma, hm, what other effects are you experiencing?”
“I… I get anxious when I don’t see the Captain,” Ororon says.
Grandma blinks at him. “And?”
“That is mostly it,” Ororon says. “I couldn’t sleep thinking about him the other night.”
“...Good grief,” Grandma says, one hand flying up to her temples. “That is-”
“Since I was possessed by one of the Captain’s old soldiers, I think his loyalty must have latched on to me, which is why I feel upset when the Captain is not around.” Ororon says. It is a good hypothesis. Is Grandma proud of him?
Grandma is staring blankly at him. She says, “I think I have severely overlooked one aspect of your education.”
Ororon frowns. What else could there be?
Ah. She always tells him to be solution oriented. In that case: “I should join the Fatui.”
Grandma throws an ancient artefact at his head, which Ororon dodges with experience. “YOU LITTLE BRAT - WHAT USE WAS RAISING YOU, HUH?! IS YOUR HEAD FOR DECORATION?! DON’T YOU DARE RUN - I’M BREAKING BOTH YOUR LEGS AND BINDING YOU TO THE BED BEFORE YOU GET ANY MORE DUMB IDEAS-”
Ororon slinks into the Fatui Camp that evening, with a pillow. “Can I sleep here today?”
“Your house is a minute away,” Nathaniel says.
Ororon says. “I’m afraid Grandma might find me and break my legs.”
Dominik opens his mouth. Nathaniel smacks him.
“...And why would she do that?” Afonya says.
Ororon sighs. “I told her I want to join the Fatui.” He plops down next to them and fluffs his pillow on his lap.
“Woah,” Nathaniel says. “Not that we’re not flattered for having made a good impression on ya, but… why?”
Dominik says, “Is it the Captain?” This time, It’s Afonya who smacks him instead. Ororon doesn’t understand why, because he’s right.
“It is,” Ororon admits. He chews on his fingernail. "I think about following him into battle."
Dominik guffaws. "You and all of us, kid."
“So… Can I stay?”
“Sure,” Nathaniel says. “But if your Grandma comes after us, you’re explaining that this was your idea, and we didn’t kidnap you.”
“Okay,” Ororon agrees, and picks a nice spot to curl up on, listening to the Fatui trade their hometown stories by the campfire until they retire for the night.
Someone shakes him awake. Ororon blinks against the moonlit silhouette. “Cap’n?”
“You definitely shouldn’t be sleeping here.” The Captain’s voice is low, likely to avoid waking his own subordinates, and it washes over a sleepy Ororon like a breeze that makes him shiver.
“Gran’ma… is gonna… find me…”
The Captain sighs. “Do you think she never not knows where you are?”
Ororon thinks. “Mm…”
“I’ll take you back,” The Captain says, and before Ororon says anything else, or begins to wake up the rest of his limbs to cooperate with returning home, the Captain scoops him up in his arms .
Ororon is now very wide awake. He squeaks.
“Shush,” The Captain murmurs, and Ororon bites down on his tongue.
He’s steady, as they traverse the short road to Ororon’s house. There’s an incline, and Ororon barely feels it. The Captain tries to set him on his feet when they reach his doorstep, but for some reason Ororon stumbles, and Capitano grabs him to hold him up.
“Can you stand?” Capitano says.
“Mm,” Ororon mumbles, hyper-aware of the Captain’s hand on his waist. It’s large, and warm. Seems to fill the entire curve. It’s not there anymore, but Ororon still feels it, like a phantom possession. “I think,” He says faintly, “I’m still feeling side effects.”
“Oh,” The Captain says, and quickly hurries him over his threshold.
The lights come on. Shoes, off. Ororon is pushed down onto his bed, and the Captain pushes down onto him, with a hand on his head. “You feel warm. Are you having a fever?”
“...” Ororon stares. He’s not wearing his cloak.
“Can you hear me?” The Captain says.
“Um. Um, yes.” Ororon swallows. “Yes.”
The familiar pulse of the Night-Wind’s power. Ororon shivers. The Captain says, “No more traces of possession, or the Abyss.” He rests his hand over Ororon’s forehead again. “You seem to be getting warmer. Perhaps you are down with a more earthly ailment?”
“Mnn,” Ororon squirms. “Captain…”
“Yes?” The Captain says to him, his voice gentle.
“Can… can…” Ororon’s face feels like it’s on fire. “Can you touch my ears?” At a shocked silence, he whines. “It’s just that, your hand is already there…” And Ororon is so sleepy, he is not thinking very well, and maybe if the Captain touches him somewhere else, the ghost of his searing hand will move away from his waist.
A soft huff. “I suppose.” He moves his fingers up the side of his face, to bury them in his hair.
Scritch. Scritch.
Ororon melts. “Cap’n…”
“Go to sleep, Ororon. I will be here when you wake.”
Ororon wakes up to a familiar voice.
" -I will not hesitate to rip your soul from your body if you harbor any ill designs about my grandson, do you understand?”
“Gran’ma?” Ororon squints, and yawns, and stretches…
…And gets a whack on the back of the head.
“Ow…”
“YOU LITTLE TROUBLEMAKER! I CAME HERE OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF MY HEART TO CHECK IN ON YOU AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT I WALKED IN ON? HUH? YOU DROOLING ALL OVER THE CAPTAIN WHO WAS FORCED TO SIT ON THE FLOOR BESIDE YOUR BED BECAUSE YOU TOOK HIS ARM HOSTAGE THE WHOLE NIGHT!”
Ororon is mortified. “Captain! I’m sorry!”
The Captain, sitting by Ororon’s little dining table, says, “It’s alright.”
Grandma isn’t done. “AND WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, BRINGING STRANGE MEN HOME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! HOW OLD DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”
“Grandma, I’m an adult…”
“Well, you weren’t five years ago!” Grandma snaps at him. “You are growing up too fast!”
The Captain says to her, “I understand that sentiment.”
Grandma says. “Then you should know not to indulge the kids too much or they’ll become too spoiled! And forget how to do their chores!”
Ororon buries his face in his hands (where’s his pillow?) “Grandma…”
“Hmph!” She folds her arms. “Come eat breakfast, the both of you!” She struts outside to tend to the campfire.
“...Sorry about that,” Ororon says to the Captain, who chuckles.
“She cares greatly for you.”
“I know.” Ororon rubs her arm. “I love her, but…” His ears flatten against his skull. “She’s kind of loud…”
“WHAT ARE THE BOTH OF YOU DWALDING INSIDE FOR?! YOU BETTER NOT BE GETTING HANDSY IN THERE!”
Ororon is hit in the head with the imagery of that so hard, he gets a dizzy spell and falls out of bed.
The Captain helps him up. Oh, hands.
Ororon is made to write 100 times on ink and paper: I will not join the Fatui. I will not join the Fatui. I will not join the Fatui. I will not join the-
Three raps on the door. Ororon fumbles with his pen.
He gets to the door and pulls it open. “Hi, Ifa.”
Ifa beams at him. “Hey, Oro. How have you been?”
“Good,” Ororon says. “Yourself?”
“Oh, same old, same old,” Ifa says, and takes his usual seat when Ororon lets him in. “Sorry I couldn’t drop by earlier. There’s an uptick in vet cases ever since the-”
“Yeah,” Ororon says.
“I heard something interesting from Citlali, though,” Ifa continues. “About the Captain.”
Ororon nods. Grandma must have told him about the possession.
Ifa says, “She says… he’s been on your mind, a lot?”
Ororon is eager to share with Ifa, who is a great listener and often gives him new insights into his problems. He explains the events of the possession. Ifa contemplates the situation for a moment. “Do you believe Citlali and the Captain when they say you have no more traces of the spirit?”
Ororon nods. “Of course.”
“So, are you open to the idea of these… symptoms… being something else, entirely?”
Hesitantly, Ororon nods again. “But I don’t see what else might be the answer.”
Ifa smiles at him. “You spent the past fifteen minutes describing how his hands feel on various parts of your body. Why do you think that is?”
Ororon thinks hard. “...Guthred liked his hands?”
“Throw out the possession entirely. Think about the now. ”
“Ok,” Ororon says. He amends, “I like his hands.” He nods to himself - he can agree with that. “But, why?”
Ifa shrugs. “How am I supposed to know? You should have your own answer.”
Ororon does. “They are very warm, and they cover a lot of surface area, so when he holds me I feel-”
“Actually, keep that to yourself.”
“I like the Captain’s hands.”
A ring of gasps. “Tell us more!” Ororon feels vindicated. The Fatui like to listen to him.
Ororon says, “He scratched my ear the other day.”
They stare at his twitching, exposed ear with interest. Nathaniel asks, “Can we?”
Ororon says, “No.” Nathaniel has sauce on his hands. “I want the Captain to do it again.”
“You lucky dog!” Dominik says.
Ororon says, “I’m not a dog. I’m a-”
“Good evening, agents.” The Captain walks up to them. “And good evening to you too, Ororon.”
Ororon perks up. “Hello.” His eyes dart down to the Captain’s hands. Afonya jabs him in the ribs.
The Fatui stand up one by one and give their patrol reports. It’s nothing confidential that Ororon isn’t allowed to listen in on - besides, they’re practically in his backyard. Ororon watches the Captain gesticulate as he speaks. He’s expressive, it hardly matters that Ororon cannot see his face.
His face…
Afonya nudges him again.
Ororon jolts, and realizes everyone is looking at him. People usually are. But this time, the Captain is looking at him, too.
“Are you feeling better from last night?” The Captain asks.
Dominik’s choked-off laugh is smothered by Nathaniel’s hand slapping over his mouth.
“Mm,” Ororon says, only nodding because he’s afraid something stupid might come out of his mouth if he opens it, like what Grandma always warns him about.
“That’s good,” The Captain says. “If you feel any ill again, you may come to me. I will try my best to assist.”
“T-thanks,” Ororon mumbles.
The Captain walks off, then suddenly the other men are on him, shaking him with wolf-whistles.
Dominik says, “Want us to break your legs to set you up with an excuse?”
“No,” Ororon squeaks, and skedaddles.
You may come to me. It’s too much of an open invitation. Ororon thinks about it until he feels sick.
The Captain is perceptive enough to notice someone watching them from the shadows. Ororon hears him beckon a goodnight to the other Fatui, and moments later he’s by Ororon’s side. “Are you looking for me?” A gentle hand comes to caress the underside of his ear.
“Mm.” Ororon finds himself nuzzling towards it. “I… mm. Feel better. Seeing you.” That was mortifying to admit. “Side effects, of course.”
“Of course,” The Captain murmurs. He does not bother to scan Ororon’s spirit for his claims. Ororon is almost disappointed. His lie is not very believable.
The Captain does not call him out on it. They stand together, quietly, and Ororon feels the Captain’s body heat emanate towards him. The Captain murmurs, “It’s late. You should go back.”
Ororon is being chased away. He tries not to sound disappointed. “Alright.”
Then, “I’ll walk you home.”
“O-okay.” Ororon stuffs his hands in his pockets. The walk home could be longer, but they’re at his doorstep far too quickly. Ororon says, “Do you want to come in?”
A beat. “Alright.”
Ororon tries not to trip over the step in his doorway. He straightens up quickly, and whirls around, to see the Captain ready to reach out to him to brace him if necessary. They’re very close.
“Oh,” Ororon gasps, eyes taking in the faint outline of the Captain’s face underneath his helmet. Ororon has good night-vision - he can see the shape of a nose, mouth.
“Can… can I see your face?”
Silence. Ororon hates himself. He never says the right words.
The Captain murmurs, the outline of his lips moving, “It’s not good. You shouldn’t see it.”
Oh. “I want to,” Ororon said earnestly.
“Maybe… next time,” The Captain says.
Next time. Next time. Next t-
“Ororon!”
Ororon jerks. Ifa is looking at him curiously. “Are you alright?”
Ororon says, “What do you think the Captain looks like?”
Ifa looks at him, and then shakes his head. “You’re down bad.”
“What does that mean…”
Ifa says. “You want him to touch you.”
Ororon nods. “And rub my ears.”
“Uh huh,” Ifa says. “And you want to see his face.”
Ororon nods again. “I saw the outline of his mouth.”
Ifa laughs, “Do you want him to kiss you, too?”
Ororon opens his mouth. Shuts it. Thinks and thinks again until Ifa nails him on the head with a rag.
“Oh Archons,” Ifa says. “If Citlali finds out I put this idea into your head… Ahem! Ororon, we never had this conversation, got it?”
Ororon nods meekly. “Yes, Ifa.”
“Now stop daydreaming. I called you here to help, not to think about the Captain.”
Ifa puts him to work for the rest of the day, and then sends him home with dinner. It’s bad for Ororon because now he’s left alone, within walking distance of the Fatui camp, and so he thinks and thinks and thinks.
And in the evening, (because Ororon was not at home in the afternoon,) the Captain drops by for his daily review of Ororon’s health. “How are you feeling, today?”
Ororon’s stomach churns. “Alright,” he says, trying not to look too hard at the Captain’s face, or hands, or anywhere around him.
The Captain nods. “That is good to hear. If there is nothing, I’ll leave you today.”
Ororon nods, and watches him disappear, wondering why their interaction felt so disappointing. Ah. Ororon didn’t invite him in.
So Ororon finds himself slinking to the Captain’s tent in the middle of the night.
The Captain’s expression is hidden, but his voice sounds surprised. “Is something wrong?”
Ororon shakes his head, then nods. “I just… want to apologize for my lack of hospitality today.”
The Captain shakes his head. “No need. I did not want to impose.”
“Never,” Ororon whispers, keeping his voice quiet - the Fatui tents are packed too close for comfort. “I’m afraid I’m the one imposing. Grandma has already scolded me for seeing you everyday.”
“I hardly think you can,” The Captain says. “After all, you saved my life.”
“And you, mine,” Ororon says.
A long pause. “Would you like to come in?”
Ororon crawls deeper into the tent. They’re close together now, two people in a one-man tent. Ororon swallows. He can see the outline of the Captain’s face, close up, the wisps of his hair, some faint details that his night vision can pick up.
It’s not quite enough for Ororon. Grandma is right, he’s too spoiled. One touch isn’t enough, one detail isn’t enough.
“I hope I’m not bothering you,” Ororon murmurs. He tries to turn his head away but there's nothing else to look at in this tent. His eyes keep snapping back to The Captain’s face in shadow. “I just… wanted to see you.”
A low chuckle - Ororon’s stomach flips. “Side effects, again?”
“Yeah,” Ororon says. “Side effects.”
The Captain, again, doesn’t bother to assess him for spirit residue. He just settles back on his haunches so Ororon has more space to lean over him.
“Can I…” Ororon swallows. “See your face, tonight?”
“...I’m afraid,” The Captain says, “It will not be a pretty sight.”
“But… I wouldn’t mind,” Ororon says.
It is a personal preference,” The Captain says. “I have not looked at my own face in a long time.”
“Oh,” Ororon says. “It’s alright, then.” He shuts his eyes. “I don’t need to look at you.”
Then he shudders, as one of The Captain’s hands come up to (lightly) grasp a twitching ear. His voice says, “This is one of your abilities, is it not? Perception with sound? You have impeccable hearing.”
“Nn,” Ororon squirms. “That tickles.”
“You are sensitive here,” The Captain says, and continues to stroke the same spot.
Ororon squeezes his thighs together. “Ahh… Mnn…”
“Is this how you echolocate?” The Captain says. “With little sounds like this?”
Ororon says, “Please - Mm - don’t tease me.”
A particularly hard rub against his ear. Ororon’s eyes flutter shut. He tries to keep his breathing even - and he squeaks.
“You should be quiet,” The Captain whispers. “My subordinates don’t have hearing as impeccable as yours, but they’ll still hear you, if you’re loud.”
Ororon can be quiet. “I… can be… quiet.”
“Do your best, then, soldier,” The Captain says, and Ororon has to bite down hard on his tongue.
Ororon’s face feels feverishly warm against the cool metal of The Captain’s mask, as Ororon ruts against his thigh. There’s no space for more complex maneuvering.
The Captain’s hands are roaming his back. The temperature is too high. He wriggles out of his jacket. The Captain dips his hand between Ororon’s legs. Ororon rocks against his fingers.
And then, when the Captain tips him backwards to maneuver Ororon’s face to kiss him (his lips are cracked, dizzy-spell inducing), Ororon comes embarrassingly quickly.
“You alright?” The Captain murmurs.
Ororon nods shyly. This is much better than using his own hands.
“Good.” The Captain strokes the back of his head. “You should not sleep here. I’ll bring you back.”
This time, when the Captain lifts him up, Ororon giggles. He tries to muffle the sound in the Captain’s neck. The trek to his house is too short, and his legs are too shaky to keep upright for long.
This time, when the Captain helps him to bed, Ororon grasps his arm.
The Captain could, of course, break away easily if he wants to.
He doesn’t, and lets Ororon crawl to him, and fumble with the front of his pants.
Clasps. Buckles. Zips. Ugh.
A laugh. “Let me.”
Ororon watches, mesmerized, as the layers come apart. If he can’t see the Captain’s face, then-
“Ah, you-” The Captain hisses through his teeth. Both hands fly up to the sides of Ororon’s heads, to hold him lightly, and caress his ears. Ororon has been told his animal tongue is very dexterous.
The Captain’s breaths turned ragged.
Finally he yanks Ororon off him, to pull him into another kiss, and Ororon mewls so loudly he’s glad they’re nowhere near the other Fatui.
“Your grandmother,” The Captain says, “Will wage a war against the Fatui.”
Ororon nuzzles into his chest. “Please don’t talk about her.” He knows she will, but he wants to enjoy this little bit of rule-breaking, first. He’s broken so many of Citlali’s rules since the Fatui came into his life.
The Captain obliges with a nod. His fingers sink into the back of his head, behind his ears. Ororon feels his bones turn to jelly.
The Captain is gone in the morning, and Ororon has an unfortunate inkling as to who might have chased him off.
“ORORON!!!!”
Ororon hangs his head in shame as Grandma berates him for the third time that morning.
“THAT MAN IS NO MAN OF HONOR! RUNNING AWAY WHEN I TOLD HIM THERE’D BE HELL TO PAY IF HE DOES A HIT AND RUN ON MY POOR GRANDSON!”
Ororon rubs the back of his sore head. He’d be running away from Grandma too, when she’s in the mood. What does a hit and run even mean? The Captain doesn’t have a saurian.
“WHEN I CATCH HIM… OHOHOHO…”
Ororon silently prays for the Captain’s safety.