#cithis can go in and out of the canaries too so you can assume that she helps him in his noodle shop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

britcision · 1 month

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Woooo I’m getting through these… so, fun fact, there’s another two lil snippets covering the same time frame as this one, but they’re gonna be over on the other lil series on AO3 because they’re a) longer and b) directly the Kabumisu storyline

So, y’know, check that out and go follow that series too if you’re into that, I’m gonna try and get the not-smut one out first because it pretty much covers what’s going on during the day for this bit, and where Mithrun’s gonna end up

But for today, our favourite rogue teleporter is going extra rogue! Luckily it’s not like Kabru was sleeping well either, so he can wrangle him back to bed.

And cuddle. For body-heat reasons, obviously.

Warnings: body horror in the context of nightmares, neglect of Mithrun by himself and also his caregivers

AO3 link:

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After Dinner Mints - Definitely Not Watching You Sleep

If he was honest with himself, Kabru had assumed he wouldn’t have much to do with the Canaries now that everything was over. Unless they still planned on arresting him and returning him to Milsiril, but that wasn’t to be (thankfully).

He knew they’d be staying around until the dragon had been fully eaten, and then he assumed they’d sail back west and he’d never see any of them again.

If he was even more honest with himself, that thought ached, just a little. Which was ridiculous; he’d known the captain barely more than a week, and the others for the change between that and the final battle. They were hardly close comrades.

It was probably just trauma bonding; they’d been through a lot together, and Captain Mithrun especially had saved his life half a dozen times. And relied on him for just as much, if not more.

But they were out of the dungeon, and Captain Mithrun’s squad would obviously take over his care again; why would they leave their vulnerable captain anywhere near Kabru? He’d already kidnapped him once.

And then Laios had come and asked him where the captain was, and they’d found him under a tree. Waiting to die, and while he wasn’t taking any actions to speed up the process, he also wasn’t willing to do anything to slow it.

Kabru had not taken it well; he could admit that much, but since it had also worked he wasn’t about to apologise either.

It had seemed obvious that he’d be the one to stay with Mithrun and take care of him that day. He’d half expected to be turned away the next day, and mostly only went to the clearing that morning to check the captain was still moving.

But no, the prisoners had welcomed him cheerfully, and even directed him to go and find the captain himself when he wasn’t already up a day later. (With ulterior motives; all four of them shared a damn tent, and Cithis had been snuggled close enough to Mithrun that their silhouette almost looked like one multilimbed creature.)

He’d even officially been added to the captain’s care roster by Flamela, the other Canary captain who seemed to hate pretty much everyone. So by the third day, he’d fallen into an easy routine: get up, grab a cheap breakfast at the inn, and wander to the Canaries’ encampment to get the captain’s schedule from Pattadol.

Officially, he’d have about a four hour shift at some point in the day where he’d be expected to come and take care of the captain. Unofficially, he could wander over pretty much whenever he liked, and the convicts were all very happy to “trade”. Not that they ever came back on his shift, of course.

Not that he really wanted them to either. Kabru was no cook, and while he did want to help, he… wasn’t good at anything relevant. Anything except dealing with Captain Mithrun.

He could carry pots and pans, he could wash dishes, he could move around vegetables and fruits and touching the actual dragon meat made him want to scream but when it was frozen he could pretend it wasn’t meat at all. He could, theoretically, just peel vegetables all day and be helping.

But he was good with Captain Mithrun, and apparently no one else was, because this morning, on the fourth day he’d been up early and gone for a walk before the sun rose (there may have been dragon-meat related dreams involved). And he’d found the captain pulling apart more of the dragon’s carcass, although not for long, since he’d collapsed half way through Kabru trying to argue him out of the hole.

It was deep enough that Kabru had to put him on the elevator they’d been using to get the meat out, then climb the ladder and haul him up that way. And the bastard had tried to roll off the platform. Couldn’t even stand, and he still wanted to keep going.

Luckily Kabru’d had the foresight to put him in the middle, so he’d had the whole thing up and on the ground before Captain Mithrun reached the edge. Hauling the stubborn asshole up and onto his back, Kabru frowned around. Someone should have been keeping an eye on him.

“Who’s meant to be at your tent, Captain?” Because of course, Captain Mithrun hadn’t been set up with the rest of the Canaries, down at one of the beaches. He’d kicked up a fuss the first night (well, kept turning around and walking away the second no one was physically holding him, and Pattadol had declared it not worth the trouble), and wardens got their own tents anyway, so his was just off the clearing and a little further in the woods. The plan was to both keep the carcass out of his line of sight and to keep anyone from wandering into it by accident.

But he needed someone else to make him sleep anyway, so Kabru had made sure a second cot was inside so they wouldn’t have to leave him alone. Of course, Kabru had his bed in his usual room at the inn, and wasn’t really all that into camping so he hadn’t pushed for a night shift.

He didn’t know sleeping spells anyway. Although apparently they weren’t particularly effective.

Captain Mithrun huffed impatiently against his neck, but didn’t have the energy to try and poke him around.

“No one. Cithis put me to sleep. I assume she left,” he grumbled almost inaudibly, and Kabru bumped him a little higher to try and rouse him and also move the grumbles closer to his ear.

He was pretty sure the captain also called him an oaf under his breath, but he couldn’t prove it.

Honestly, he’d assumed Cithis would especially enjoy an opportunity for a more private place to sleep when he’d put the second cot in. He’d have to… half way to the tent, he paused.

“Did she do it wrong?” He asked, suddenly uncertain.

The Canaries had been drugging or enchanting Captain Mithrun to sleep for fourteen years. Cithis specifically had him sleeping in late yesterday. He shouldn’t have been up at all.

“No. Doesn’t always work,” the captain huffed, his head flopping forward so a pointy chin stabbed at Kabru’s shoulder.

“That’s more of a reason for her to stick around in case it needs redoing,” Kabru grumbled, but got going again anyway.

He’d probably just exhausted his mana again, especially if he’d been going part way through the night. Sleep wasn’t going to be optional now, even if Kabru had to watch over him personally.

At least the tent was protected from the early morning chill with a few additional enchantments, and they had a proper cot along with the bedroll. Which was still Falin Touden’s, so no one had done anything at all to the set up Kabru had made himself.

He’d be annoyed about it later. For now, he moved the captain carefully onto the bed and hissed in irritation as he noticed something else.

The captain had been in full uniform, so Kabru had assumed he’d dressed himself as part of getting up. If he had, he hadn’t bothered putting on his fucking boots.

The elf was barefoot, and had been standing on frozen meat for who knew how long. His feet were a nasty purplish grey that did not belong on a human of any variety, even one as pale as the captain. Cupping one with both hands, he drew a line of pressure with one thumb and waited for the white mark left behind to fade.

It didn’t.

Captain Mithrun frowned at him.

“Ow.” It didn’t sound particularly emphatic or like an actual exclamation of pain, but that didn’t mean anything.

Beginning to actually worry, Kabru pushed the elf down onto his back, sat on the end of the cot, and tugged up his tunic so he could press both fucking freezing feet directly to his torso. Captain Mithrun tried to pull them away, but Kabru held on tight.

“I know it’s uncomfortable, Captain, and probably painful, but your feet are dangerously cold. You can’t just stand on a block of ice without your boots, what were you thinking?” Kabru asked sharply, well aware that it was probably a futile question.

He wasn’t sure if Captain Mithrun could even feel hot or cold, but one of the first things that went with this kind of injury was sensation. Warming back up was always painful too, but at least Kabru’s body heat couldn’t accidentally burn him.

He did have to shift position though, wincing as he moved the captain’s feet to a spot they hadn’t already leached all the warmth from.

It took a moment for him to notice he hadn’t actually gotten any kind of response at all, and he frowned up at the captain’s face again. Captain Mithrun looked… embarrassed? He wasn’t even pouting as hard as he had before.

When he met Kabru’s eyes, he even looked away again.

“I wasn’t. I just…” the next words from anyone else would probably have been “wanted to help”, and it made Kabru desperately curious about what the captain would say, but apparently he didn’t know the end of the sentence either. He fell silent again.

Huffing softly, Kabru rubbed at the tops of both feet quickly, hoping to generate some extra warmth. The good news was that they were already less grey than they had been before; they were still more purple than a normal skin tone, but they were picking up more red.

Captain Mithrun just stared at them, brows puckered like they’d let him down rather than the other way round. He also kept shifting them uncomfortably, which made Kabru’s fingers catch on his toes, and Kabru was running out of stomach that wasn’t already cold to the touch.

Gritting his teeth, he shifted Mithrun’s feet a little higher at the next change of position, tugging his shirt and tunic back down over them as much as he could. The captain pulled another face, toes curling against the upper part of Kabru’s chest, and he covered both feet quickly over his clothes with his hands.

“I know, Captain, bear with me. Maybe try to remember this part the next time you’re wandering off somewhere and check you have your boots?” He tried, more than a little exasperated.

Mithrun shot him a sharp look, which faded almost immediately into that same strange little frown, his eye drifting straight back off Kabru’s face. His feet still felt icy against Kabru’s skin.

Maybe he should actually get someone who knew some healing magic… except he didn’t want the captain walking around anymore, and leaving him alone was out for obvious reasons. He’d have to carry him, and Kabru was at least aware that he himself should warm his core back up before leaving the warmed tent for the cold night.

He took a moment to bring one of Captain Mithrun’s feet back out of his shirt, checking the colour and doing the pressure test again. Definitely more red than purple now, and the white line he drew began fading back to red as he watched, if not as fast as he’d like.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get someone to check later today. Pattadol, probably. She was a good healer, and would deal with Cithis leaving the captain alone for the night too. Because that absolutely wasn’t happening again.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, Kabru cupped one frozen foot in both hands and half smiled at the captain.

“The good news is I don’t think there’s any harm done, but we’ll get Pattadol to check in the morning. If they keep hurting or you get any numbness or tingling you have to tell someone, okay?” He asked, not really hoping for much of anything.

Captain Mithrun sunk down like he was trying to hide in his own tight collar, frowning past Kabru at the wall of the tent. Even the quiet “I’m fine” was less annoyed or bored than usual.

Kabru’s smile widened in spite of himself. Now that he’d gotten the sudden panic under control and the worry with it, he had to admit that the captain was kind of sweet when he obviously felt bad about something. Like a little kid who hadn’t expected to need rescue.

That raised a new worry, because Kabru had a sudden dark suspicion that he was playing the role of Milsiril in that little analogy and he did not like it. He’d been in the captain’s place more often than not with his stepmother, although he’d like to believe he’d been less careless with his own safety.

He’d like to. He wasn’t sure he actually believed it.

Clearing his throat, he pulled the captain’s other foot out for a quick check. Both were definitely looking better already, still starkly red instead of their usual pallor but at least his circulation had started up again. The white lines left by his fingers faded, still not quickly, but they filled in with red as he watched.

“I wasn’t out long,” Mithrun put in quietly, his eye on Kabru’s face until the moment that Kabru looked up to meet it, and then it skittered away again. His lower lip slid out in a pout that was definitely less irritated than usual. “I wasn’t awake long. I just. Didn’t wait.”

His gaze skittered over to the door of the tent and Kabru sighed softly, covering his feet with both hands again and tucking them into his lap. He wasn’t about to remove any layers to give the captain direct skin access there, but it was the warmest spot he had and the heat in the tent would help too.

“Honestly Captain, you shouldn’t have had to. I’m just glad you got… dressed…” about to shake his head, Kabru stopped, brows drawing down into a frown.

One of the things Mithrun had been emphatic about was that if he had a routine, he could usually follow the steps. When he was in a dungeon or on a mission, that broke the routine, and carving the dragon had been a singular mission for him until now.

But when he had a dungeon or a mission, he didn’t do any steps.

And now he’d actually taken the initiative to pull a corner of the blanket from under his body and tugged it over his head. Kabru’s lips twitched again, but he got the urge to smile under control very quickly.

And helped the captain rearrange the blanket so that he was wrapped in it on all sides to keep what little body heat he had in. Once the elf was securely burrito’d (except for his feet, which Kabru was keeping custody of until they weren’t noticeably cold against skin), he rested a hand gently on a covered knee.

“Captain, you didn’t get dressed did you?”

The top half of his head having been excavated during the wrapping, Mithrun made another attempt to turtle back into it, his lone eye peeking out at Kabru.

“No.” It was muffled, but still audible. And honestly, even the idea that the captain could be embarrassed by his own behaviour was news to Kabru; new enough that it might not be the actual explanation.

He’d never shown any indications when Kabru had literally caught him mid collapse, or even really any gratitude. Even hiding to avoid the nagging would be a good sign though, since it might be part of a desire to avoid it.

Usually he just bitched about it until Kabru shut up or was distracted by something trying to eat them.

That little revelation could wait though, since now Kabru was suddenly angry.

“Have you even had a change of clothes? We’re not in the dungeon anymore, Captain, I understand you’re still on a mission but there’s no reason you can’t have clean clothes or comfortable sleeping things! Didn’t Cithis even try?!”

On the ships there wasn’t a practical way to do any kind of laundry, and thanks to the changeling spores Kabru had actually washed himself and his clothing a lot more in their last dungeon adventure than he usually would. Wearing the same things for days at a time wasn’t a problem, when there wasn’t any alternative.

They were practically in town. There were plenty of alternatives.

Captain Mithrun poked his head out a little further, brows drawn down as he examined Kabru through his dark eye. Whatever he was looking for, he either found it or gave up quickly, and lay back.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t mind, and it saves time.”

Frustration rising, Kabru forced it back down and took a few deep, calming breaths. There was half a chance he’d ordered her not to make him change in the first place, although she shouldn’t have listened. It wasn’t like she was particularly diligent with orders.

Either way, getting angry or upset with him was pointless. It wouldn’t do anything useful, and wouldn’t make him more likely to listen to anything else Kabru said. At most, he’d get angry back and that would be much worse.

Five slow, deep breaths later and Kabru shook his head, looking around the tent.

“Do you have sleeping clothes, Captain? Whatever you’d usually use?” He had no idea how much it’d be, given how little time Canaries in the field spent with any laundry beyond whatever cleaning spells someone might know, but surely there was something.

The captain stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. Didn’t expound on it or explain, but Kabru had already spotted a solution.

Laios’ shirt was still bunched in a corner of the tent.

Tucking the captain’s feet carefully into the blanket, he hurried to grab it, shaking it out and frowning at it. It had been cleaned at least once since everything had ended, which was good. It might not be pristine anymore, but it was better than nothing. And, being in the tent, it was warmer than the clothes Mithrun was actually wearing.

Turning back to the bed, he looked at the wrapped and round bundle of elf and hesitated again. Would asking the captain to change now do more harm than good?

It’d depend if he’d been sweating into his other clothes, because if they were wet they’d have to come off. Honestly, Kabru should have worried about that sooner, but he’d been distracted by the state of his feet. If they were that bad, how bad was the rest of him?

Chewing on his lower lip, Kabru sat back on the edge of the cot and frowned at the captain, who was just staring at the ceiling. In the end, he had to ask. It was just simpler.

“Can you feel the cold, Captain?”

Captain Mithrun glanced over at him again, then back to the tent.

“Yes. I just-”

“Don’t care, I understand,” Kabru agreed, sagging a little in relief. That would help. “I do care though, Captain. If you get sick, you won’t be able to move or do anything, even use your mana. So we have to get you warm again, right?”

There was a long moment where Mithrun looked over again, actually keeping eye contact as he examined Kabru. Who tried not to visibly fret. With the demon, reframing things to follow the captain’s desire had always resulted in immediate compliance.

Maybe even his desire to help Falin be eaten wasn’t a whole desire yet. Not so powerful as his need to find the demon again, certainly.

But finally he nodded, shuffling under the blanket for a while. Kabru was about to ask what he was doing when a hand finally emerged, pale and cold.

“The cape too. More layers will help.”

He managed to get changed without actually getting out of his blanket wrapping, passing out the cold and slightly frosted armour instead of just dropping the blanket when Kabru pointed out he’d need the heat.

In the meantime, Kabru found a second uniform under the cot, with clean trousers, underwear, and socks that he immediately passed over, along with the extra cape. The one he’d used for cutting was out of the question.

The captain let Kabru check his temperature without question, at his temples and then both his arms, and a finger down the back of the overlarge shirt to get a feel for his core.

The elf always felt cold to Kabru, but at least the rest of him wasn’t so badly off as his feet had been. It really mustn’t have been long, but it shouldn’t have happened at all.

What if Kabru hadn’t had that nightmare? What if he hadn’t gone for an early walk? Who would even have found the captain, and when?

Did the Canaries even have an established night shift? What the hell did they think the second cot was for? Why was Kabru the only person even trying to account for the captain’s needs?!

Shaking his head, Kabru forced himself to let it go. He could have a word with Pattadol in a few more hours when the sun was fully up, and. They.

No, that wouldn’t work. Cithis definitely Did Not Like Pattadol, and going through her wouldn’t make Cithis want to listen. He’d have to find a way to appeal to her self interest directly; maybe asking her if she could heal Captain Mithrun, and see the risk herself.

It wasn’t like Kabru would always be around to catch him when he was doing something dangerous.

And since he’d be sticking around here for the next few hours, and also needed to warm up (and try to get the captain to sleep)… Glancing around, Kabru fetched the second unused blanket from the other cot, then nodded to the captain.

“I’m cold now too. We’ll warm up faster if we use both blankets and share body heat, if you don’t mind?” Asking was mostly a formality, since the captain didn’t seem to care who did anything, but Kabru wasn’t going to stop trying.

Having desires could be like a muscle, so encouraging him to care about anything in any way might be helpful later on.

This time, Captain Mithrun considered him for a moment, then nodded and opened his blanket burrito. Kabru was about to climb in when he realized there was one important concern first; how the hell they were going to position themselves after.

Ideally, he’d like to get the captain lying down and see if he could sleep some more. That’d make tucking the ends of both blankets in more complicated, but they could do it. But it would also but a limit on the comfortable positions they could be in, if it was going to be a while to heat up.

He was probably overthinking it. After a moment’s thought, he pulled off his coat and tunic, and his own boots, leaving him in just his shirt and pants. It’d make it easier to share his heat with the captain. Then he wrapped the other blanket around his shoulders and sat on the edge of the cot.

“Your back to my chest should be the easiest, I think. If we lie down, maybe you can get some more sleep?”

Captain Mithrun gave him a very flat look at that, but since it was pretty much the same look he’d been given the first time he suggested a foot rub could help the captain sleep, Kabru ignored it. Being warm and comfortable was a pretty good soporific, especially when someone was already exhausted.

“You’re awake.”

That caught him off guard a little, although Captain Mithrun was already shuffling to lie down on the bedroll, keeping some of the blanket under him. Kabru fussed for a moment to get it under them both, trying to decide how to answer.

It wasn’t exactly a cogent argument. It was pretty much what that little kid he’d compared the captain to earlier would say. But… he wanted Captain Mithrun to feel respected, like his wants and needs were important enough for him to care about.

And. Maybe. Mithrun might be the only person who’d understand about the nightmares. Or at least the only person who wouldn’t judge him for having them.

Sliding carefully in behind the captain, Kabru waited until they were both mostly balanced on the cot while he tried to find the words.

“I… couldn’t sleep either, but probably for different reasons. I had a nightmare.”

There was a long moment, then the captain’s back relaxed and pressed against him. Pulling his own blanket over them both, Kabru wrapped an arm around him, enjoying the warmth of another person. He’d been sleeping alone for too long.

“About Utaya?” Mithrun asked softly, something tight and sad under the words. Kabru’s arm tightened reflexively around him at the words, holding him close.

Like the past might come and take this person away too.

He forced a short chuckle, shaking his head. Not being able to see the elf’s face helped. He didn’t have to worry about what he was thinking.

“No, actually… not exactly. I’m used to those. I used to have them a lot more, when I was younger. This one was just… about what we’re doing now.”

Mithrun made a noise that he could tell himself was inquisitive, although it was probably just an acknowledgement. Kabru pressed on anyway.

“I dreamed about eating the dragon meat. There was so much of it, and I couldn’t say no, but the more I ate the more scales kept coming up through my skin, and I scratched them off but then I had to eat those too, until my nails were claws and my teeth were too sharp and… and then…” the words had been easy until that point, spilling faster and faster but suddenly they were choking him.

One cool hand came and pressed over his, where he was holding the captain… probably way too tightly, it was probably uncomfortable, and he forced his grip to loosen but Mithrun’s hand held his in place.

“And then?” The elf asked softly, his voice still calm and even. Not judging. Not disgusted, or annoyed. Not pitying or condescending.

Kabru buried his face in the top of Mithrun’s head and breathed for a long moment, forcing himself to calm down. To let his heart stop racing.

“And then it wasn’t dragon meat I was eating,” he whispered against the soft waves of dulled silver.

He’d have wondered if the captain heard him at all, except that the elf’s hand tightened over his for a moment. Then it peeled his hand away, pulling it up and out of the blankets where Mithrun could examine it with both of his.

Kabru had never really noticed how much smaller Mithrun’s hands were than his before. Most of his acquaintance with the captain had involved being very hands on, grabbing the captain or carrying him when he’d fallen or passed out. Captain Mithrun was a pretty small guy, though he was solidly built for an elf and heavier than he looked.

His hands were rough too, hardened and battle scarred, and not the most delicate where they turned Kabru’s hand this way and that, pressing at the ends of his fingers and sketching the knuckles.

They were so much smaller. He could probably hold both of the captain’s wrists in one hand, or cup his hands together and fully contain both of Mithrun’s inside. The contrast of pale skin against his brown made the difference all the more stark, and he found himself watching with equal attention as Mithrun examined his hand.

Then the captain pulled it back under the blankets and placed it against his chest again.

“No scales or claws.” It was so incongruous that Kabru blinked, taking hold of the elf automatically.

“What… Captain, I know it was just a dream. I didn’t think I was actually going to…” he trailed off, trying not to sound too annoyed. Maybe it had been a mistake to mention it.

Captain Mithrun shook his head, pressing his hand to the back of Kabru’s.

“You don’t dream, under sleeping potions. Or sleeping spells when they’re done right. You’re not supposed to. But… I do. Sometimes. And the dreams don’t go away just because I wake up.” His fingers traced the backs of Kabru’s slowly, then pressed more firmly again.

Kabru’s mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to process the weight of that revelation. He’d known that sleeping potions and spells didn’t usually let people dream, it was one of the reasons you weren’t supposed to use them all the time to sleep, but…

Could it be something the demon had done? Left Mithrun with unusually strong or vivid dreams, too powerful to be blocked by the magic?

And his first thought had been to comfort Kabru. Not by telling him that it was just a dream, or hadn’t been real, or any of the patronizing crap he already knew.

He’d taken the fear seriously, had physically checked, and made sure there really was nothing there even when they both knew there couldn’t be.

What the hell did the captain dream about?

For some reason Kabru couldn’t bring himself to ask, the words trapped under a sudden lump in his throat. He wrapped his arms tighter around the elf, held him close and was sure Mithrun made a soft, almost pleased sound in response.

“I… understand. Thank you, captain.”

Mithrun made another quiet, contented noise, leaning further back into Kabru. He felt warmer already, the places where they touched much warmer than the rest even under the blankets.

Kabru had left his bed looking for a distraction, because the thought of trying to sleep again with that in his head was too much to bear. The thought of trying again now still wasn’t exactly appealing, but he couldn’t deny it felt… easier. Better.

Less terrifying. Less like he might actually throw up. The gentle warmth of the captain in his arms, the heartbeat he could feel against his hand and his chest, were grounding. Soothing.

He could only hope it was working as well for Captain Mithrun as the silence stretched between them, comfortable and familiar. It was a little surprising to realize that he actually felt safe, even in a tent in the middle of the woods.

Of course, knowing that every monster had fled as far and as fast as it could days ago helped. Cuddling up to the undisputed scariest person on the Island helped more.

It was interesting, actually; the dichotomy Mithrun represented. In an actual fight, Kabru was completely sure he’d never seen anyone more blatantly terrifying; there was just no defence against wayward teleportation. If Mithrun decided to swap a rock for your brain, the only thing that could stop him was his own lack of depth perception.

His casting was quick, precise, and almost instantaneous; if he had a loose object to send, the only question was if he would miss. It was hard to imagine anything being able to beat him, even after watching him go toe to toe with the demon twice and fail… actually, maybe moreso. The demon was basically magic incarnate, infinite power given form, and if violence was capable of killing it Kabru was pretty sure Mithrun would have succeeded.

He’d diced it finer than the dragon and even running on empty would have killed Marcille at full dungeon lord power if not for the demon protecting her. He was the epitome of an unstoppable force.

An unstoppable force who’d give himself frostbite because it didn’t occur to him to put on boots before standing on a block of ice. Who’d starve to death from sheer ignorance of his own body in a week. Who had no choice but to rely on others for every single one of his needs, all day, every day, because he couldn’t feel them.

Captain Mithrun really was the perfect weapon; completely impotent without someone else to wield him.

And Kabru had to believe he could find the human being under all of that, the determination and reckless power, and apathy and emptiness. The man he saw in those flickers of emotion that took over the captain’s face at the first stirring in his heart; usually irritation, stubbornness, or anger, but there were others too.

Smugness was probably the first thing Kabru had ever seen break the intensity/apathy combo that Mithrun usually wore; handing a room full of mercenaries their asses as easily as if he was herding children. There were other moments too though.

More since the dungeons fell, which was understandable; they had more to feel good about. Kabru had never expected to see Captain Mithrun cry, or really to see him laugh either, but he’d seen both almost at once.

There were the softer smiles too, and those were what Kabru held onto when the captain was being extra difficult. Usually uncertain, usually small, every single one held the promise that actual, genuine happiness was something that Mithrun could feel again. That he could still find joy in life.

(If pressed, Kabru would admit that he had some less than selfless reasons for clinging to those moments, and pushing so hard for Mithrun to recover. If someone as obviously, tangibly broken as the captain could still find worth and purpose in his life… well, obviously Kabru could too. How could he not?

Captain Mithrun couldn’t fix himself breakfast with a knife to his throat. Kabru couldn’t make a good breakfast necessarily, but he could get by.)

It wasn’t until his musings were interrupted by a soft, familiar snore that Kabru realized Mithrun had fallen asleep again, even without a foot rub to relax him. He wondered belatedly if he should have asked more questions about why the captain had woken; had it just been a shoddy sleeping spell? Nightmares of his own?

Hell, had Cithis not bothered to toss a blanket over him? The tent wasn’t cold exactly, especially not compared to the night, but with nothing but his uniform between him and the air, the captain didn’t exactly run warm.

He’d have to ask later. In the morning, once the sun had fully risen and it was actually a decent time to get up.

Actually, he’d probably have to tell the captain’s squad to bugger off and leave them alone for a few more hours, once they got up. The Canaries rose early, so it’d probably only be a couple more hours at most until they came looking.

As much as he’d like to get the captain’s feet looked at, he’d rather the elf get some more sleep first. It wasn’t like he had the mana for a full day of continuous teleport-cutting, so getting a lie in would probably do more for him than rising early. And it wasn’t like Kabru had anywhere else to be; ideally, he’d like Captain Mithrun to sleep until he woke on his own.

Hopefully they’d come in before calling out, and he could tell them to leave the captain alone for a while.

Which. Would mean they’d find them both on the cot together.

A perverse part of Kabru kind of wished he’d taken his pants off; they’d wanted to tease him when Cithis had the captain in her bed, it would only be fitting to repay them in kind. Of course, it wouldn’t actually fluster the fucking elves.

Actually, it’d probably make Fleki cackle and definitely wake the captain, and even if the others wouldn’t be so loud, they’d certainly have commentary for him later. So it was probably for the best that he hadn’t.

Still, it wasn’t like he could miss them opening the tent. Despite being a chronic overthinker, it wasn’t like there was much to distract him just lying in bed with the captain in his arms.

It was just… peaceful. Warm, comfortable, and the rise and fall of another’s breathing to soothe him. Kabru found himself drifting in a haze of contentment, and hurriedly shook himself awake again.

But then again, why bother?

He’d barely gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep himself all told, and while he’d insisted they lie down for the captain to sleep (which had worked), being warm and tucked up in bed was working on him too.

It wouldn’t be hard. And if he did have nightmares again… well, he’d found out years ago (by Rin throwing things at him) that he was a grabber and a cuddler, especially when he had nightmares. And he already had Captain Mithrun held close; if either of them moved away they’d probably fall right off the cot.

If nothing else, he’d have someone with him. Be able to reassure himself, have someone to hold until he could breathe again. He’d hate to wake the captain up though.

Of course, he might not have the nightmare again. It had felt inevitable before, made him want to vomit just staying in his bed below the inn, and he’d had to get out. Not anymore though.

Now it felt far away and far less frightening; pushed back by Mithrun’s absolutely wild reaction. It felt silly that he’d been that upset in the first place, with Mithrun quietly reassuring him that he definitely wasn’t actually becoming a dragon, but not in a bad way. It even pulled a smile to his face.

And, well, it was hard to imagine what could frighten him while he held the most dangerous person on the Island to his chest, snoring like a squirrel.

Pressing his face to Mithrun’s hair to hide from the encroaching dawn, Kabru pressed his eyes shut.

Just a couple of minutes. Maybe an hour.

None of the convicts would deliberately wake them up if they saw he was there too; it was a solid 50-50 that Lycion or Fleki would just sit their asses down and wait to watch them wake up and see what happened, but Otta and Cithis would probably just leave and decide how to try and make his life hell with it later.

Since Kabru was already planning on making their lives uncomfortable for leaving the captain unattended, he wasn’t worried about it.

So waking up about four hours later to find himself and Mithrun festooned from head to toe with daisy chains wasn’t exactly expected, but nor was it hugely surprising.

The day itself was unremarkable; he spoke to Cithis early on, which went. As well as could be expected. She refused to see the problems even while casting a healing spell on the captain’s feet (mostly just to be safe; there didn’t seem to be any lasting damage).

Kabru was fully aware she was baiting him by suggesting he simply take over the night shift again himself if he didn’t trust anyone else to do it, but honestly? That had become his goal somewhere between falling asleep in Mithrun’s cot and chasing the captain and Cithis down.

He couldn’t force the Canaries to care about their captain. Or to realize that the easiest answer wasn’t always the best, though he hoped spending more time with Senshi might help there.

He could take matters into his own hands, and personally make sure the captain didn’t try anything like that again. Let Cithis think she was manipulating him.

Of course, having them both sleep squished up on one cot wasn’t a long term solution; there was a reason he’d brought a second. But through the course of the day, he also realized that he probably couldn’t trust the captain to wake him up if he was up early.

Kabru could put his cot in front of the entrance of the tent, and the captain could teleport out. And possibly get himself stuck in something. But Kabru already knew how to keep him from teleporting. Contact with a large enough surface.

Explaining it to the captain himself was a little more complicated; Captain Mithrun just stared at him blankly, standing to his full height inside the tent (which Kabru was a little jealous of; he had to hunch).

“You want to what?” He asked flatly. Kabru stifled a smile.

“To move your cot back and turn it, so I can set up the other one at a right angle to it. That way once you’ve gone to sleep, I can sleep with my head on your chest, so that if you wake up it’ll wake me too and I can help you.” It was an ingenious solution if Kabru said so himself; much less touchy feely than they’d had that morning, it’d give them both at least a semblance of personal space.

Sure, he’d still have to be invading Mithrun’s, but he had to anyway to keep him from teleporting away. But at an angle like that, he wouldn’t be able to grab or pull the elf into another hug in his sleep, even if he did have another nightmare.

Just his head had to be less annoying for the captain to deal with, right?

And Captain Mithrun clearly agreed, since he just stared at Kabru for a while and then helped him move the beds into position! Okay, he didn’t actually say anything to agree or disagree, but he actively helped set things up, which was the same thing.

It even felt comfortingly routine for Kabru to sit at the end of the cot and give the captain his foot rub, feeling him relax gradually under his hands. He’d been a little worried that sleeping in that morning might have thrown the captain’s schedule off, but it clearly hadn’t; he fell asleep as quickly and easily as usual.

Getting to then move to the other cot, even if he did shift himself up so that his head rested on Mithrun’s chest instead of his pillow, was less routine. Part of him still wanted to sit watch, but there was no point.

There were no monsters nearby, and no one on the Island likely to try and start trouble with the Canaries. Even if there was, Kabru was a pretty light sleeper. There was no way Mithrun would be able to slip away from him either. If he moved, Kabru would wake up, and could help him either get back to sleep or deal with whatever issue had arisen.

If nothing else, Kabru was sure he’d help the captain get a better night’s sleep.

Mithrun wasn’t exactly sure what woke him, which was pretty much his normal. Most of the time it was likely as simple as the sleeping spell running out, or potion wearing off, even if it was early. But he never could tell.

It took a moment for him to remember that he’d not had either that night, which was a new puzzle. It was still dark, and while his sense of time wasn’t the best, it didn’t seem like it had been long since he fell asleep.

Kabru was lying with his head on Mithrun’s chest, still deeply asleep, which was. Possibly related. It made it a little harder to breathe, and Mithrun took a few deep test breaths. Didn’t seem to be a major problem though.

He lay in the dark for a while, watching the outline of Kabru’s head in the monochrome world of twilight. He understood the purpose, of course; that Kabru would be awakened if he moved, so he couldn’t wander off alone again.

Tedious. Potentially effective, although he was plainly awake now and Kabru wasn’t.

Although. It wasn’t like he wanted to move. Or had anywhere else to be. Did he?

It’d be a pain to dislodge Kabru. So maybe it was effective in keeping him in bed at least.

Slowly, unbidden, a hand rose as if to rub at the spot on his chest that was usually the most hollow, but occasionally sparked a glow of warmth, or sorrow. It was warm now, in a soft, gentle way, but Kabru’s head was directly over it.

As if the tallman knew that was where the best path to Mithrun’s desires lay.

(Well. He assumed it was the best path. It was where all the feelings he didn’t understand lay? And he wasn’t sure he remembered enough of desire to understand it.)

His fingers stroked through messy dark curls instead, which was an interesting sensation. Kabru’s hair was soft and thick. Pretty and boyish, the curls combining with wide blue eyes and a charming smile that made him look almost elven.

With his head turned away like this, Mithrun could almost imagine that one ear was just folded down against his chest, the other… wait. That might be a memory. The way a slender brown ear would rise out of dark curls and twitch.

There had been a lot of changeling mushrooms in the dungeon, and while even the changes to his own physique didn’t really register with him, his imagination also wasn’t usually up to even the hazy impression of an elf ear.

He almost wondered what an actual elf-Kabru had looked like. Probably still taller than him. Mithrun wasn’t the shortest elf around, but he was definitely shorter than average. Although, he didn’t know where Kabru stood on a tallman average either.

Elf-Kabru wouldn’t be able to haul him around as much. Expecting to feel petty satisfaction, Mithrun was surprised by the disappointment accompanying that thought.

The manhandling was annoying, or at least not being able to do what he wanted was annoying. The actual grabbing was… fine. Better than the weight of Kabru’s head on his chest, although that wasn’t actually all that bad.

He was still touching Kabru’s hair. That was… he hadn’t been thinking about it. But it was soft, and felt nice between his fingers.

Kabru would probably wake up if he kept doing it. But he was supposed to wake up and put Mithrun back to sleep.

He wasn’t awake.

The string of facts trotted through Mithrun’s head with the usual lack of any interest or any will to do anything about them. Including stopping his fingers from twisting slowly through Kabru’s curls.

He could wake Kabru and get more sleep. Unless Kabru’s head on his chest was what had woken him, which would just happen again. That’d be annoying.

Any kind of decision would have to involve him wanting something, or finding one option preferable. He kept playing with Kabru’s hair. Deciding to stop would also involve caring what happened next.

Kabru would probably be able to help him choose, but Kabru would make the decision he wanted anyway. He could make Mithrun agree with him though, which was nice. Cithis never bothered waiting for him to agree.

The difference hadn’t seemed important, since he didn’t usually disagree either, but… there was something there. A thought he couldn’t quite finish the shape of.

It tugged back to something that had happened that day, a conversation he’d almost been part of.

Why was Kabru so good with him?

A frown creasing his brows, Mithrun stared down at Kabru like his sleeping head might hold the answer, hand stilling.

He wasn’t sure. Everyone else agreed that Kabru was very good at handling him, but it was harder for him to tell.

He liked Kabru, as much as he liked anyone. More than most people, really. He wasn’t as grating, or as scared and inclined to kiss his ass. For all that he wouldn’t stop talking, Kabru was restful company.

Who absolutely wouldn’t help Mithrun work this out, because he was also very distracting. That was the talking, but also sometimes the things he did. That was part of the restful; Mithrun didn’t have to do anything or think about anything, because Kabru would entertain him.

Not necessarily on purpose, but that was fine. Mithrun was entertained, and Kabru preferred when Mithrun wasn’t doing anything else, so it worked out.

That was probably uncharitable. There were plenty of things Kabru wanted Mithrun to do. They just weren’t usually things that interested him.

Watching Kabru was usually interesting, if only because after a while he got flustered about it.

His fingers had started stroking through Kabru’s hair again. He hadn’t decided to. It was just… pleasant. A soothing sensation as soft curls swirled around at his touch, flowing like water. It made him feel more real.

He wasn’t going to find any answers here.

He couldn’t wake Kabru, or Kabru would try and put him back to sleep. Kabru had been very sure he’d wake if Mithrun moved, but he hadn’t yet.

Just his head probably wasn’t enough contact that Mithrun couldn’t teleport without bringing him.

There were probably any number of sensible options, but Mithrun didn’t bother thinking past the first one. Tugging the blanket free, he wadded it into a bundle about the same size as his own chest and held it up above him. Right above Kabru’s head, as far as he could tell.

Switching their positions was easy, although he did almost fall directly into Kabru’s head because he hadn’t bothered raising his knees first. Still, he caught himself, sitting back on his heels to see if Kabru would wake up.

The blanket was tucked under his head as neatly as Mithrun’s chest had been, and though his face scrunched a little he didn’t seem about to wake up. Nodding in satisfaction, Mithrun turned to leave the tent.

Stopped. It had been important that morning.

Sitting carefully by the tent entrance, he pulled his socks and boots on before wandering out into the night. It was entirely possible that there wouldn’t be any answers out there either. Probable, really. It might not even be a puzzle he could solve.

But Kabru had been so very sure he could keep Mithrun contained, and as much as Mithrun did like him, he wasn’t a fucking pillow. And he was self aware enough to recognize the pettiness in the slight smile as he wandered off.

Maybe he could find that friend of Kabru’s who’d been around during the day.

———————

It is so important to me that you know there was about a solid chance of Mithrun intentionally teleporting himself into the ground outside so Kabru’s head was held up by dirt and then had to dig himself out

I resisted, obviously. But it was hard

(Also Mithrun hid his head under the blankets on the off chance Kabru didn’t have object permanence and would forget he was there if he couldn’t see him because listen he doesn’t know how tallmen work)

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi fanfic #after dinner mints #after dinner mints: definitely not watching you sleep #they’re both liars they’re both definitely watching each other fucking sleep #kabumisu #kabru dungeon meshi #mithrun dungeon meshi #captain mithrun #kabru of utaya #kabrumithrun #fun fact the warming the feet thing is something i do with ny partner sometimes #cuz he has reynauds tho not cuz he walks on ice barefoot #gotta be real careful about not burning frozen feets

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