#the second half kinda rhymes yeehaw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

damienthepious · 4 years

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i yeet myself forcibly from tuesday to tuesday like some sorta leapfroggin’ disaster honestly.

Space To Be Kinder

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, Fluff, Sleeptalking, Napping, Nightmares, Somft......

Summary: Sir Damien still prattles, even when the knight is unconscious. Unsurprisingly, he still worries, too.

Notes: I realized too late that this is two weeks in a row of unconscious!Damien, but at least THIS one is SOFT. yeehaw. love you. Title from the song Apple Cider by Early Eyes.

“Arum…”

“Yes, honeysuckle?” Arum perks up, pulling his snout out of his book and glancing over at the poet beside him, only to find Damien slumped entirely sideways, curled on the blanket, his own journal of poetic drafts loose by his hand. Arum blinks, tilting his head as Damien shifts slightly with a small, weary sigh. “Honeysuckle?” he murmurs again, more quietly, and Damien shifts at the sound of his voice and murmurs Arum's name again.

Rilla peers over Arum’s shoulder from his other side. “Oh, did he pass out?”

“It appears so.”

“I knew he was more worn out from that trip than he said he was,” she says softly, shaking her head and turning back to her sketching. “So damn stubborn.”

“But-” Arum glances to the knight, watches him shift again, fingers twitching against the blanket as he murmurs an incomprehensible plea with his eyes still closed. “What…”

“Oh,” Rilla whispers, her lip quirking into a fond smile. “I forgot you probably haven’t seen him nap before. He talks in his sleep, sometimes.” She shrugs. “Mostly nonsense, though on occasion it comes in rhyme anyway, which is fun.”

“He-” Arum stares down at the knight as the lines of his face shift with whatever dream is gripping him, as he mutters another low, musical line of nonsense, and Arum feels his heart flop over in his chest. “Ridiculous,” he murmurs. “Even unconscious he cannot help but prattle-”

Damien makes a small pained noise, brow furrowing, hands flexing. “Arum,” he says again, a pleading worried murmur, and then he mumbles something that Arum cannot understand, his tone still low and unhappy, and Arum’s own hands flex in response against the blanket beneath them.

“What…” Arum swallows, the worry twisting Damien's face making his chest feel tight. "What do I… do?"

"You don't really have to do anything," Rilla says, looking at the pages in her hands rather than at either of them. "It's just a dream, and he usually either wakes himself up or starts sleeping more deeply pretty quick."

Damien makes another quiet, unhappy noise, and Arum stares down at the sleeping poet, unconvinced.

After a moment, Amaryllis lifts her head from her sketching, the slight movement catching at the edge of Arum's vision, and she breathes out a very small laugh.

"If you're worried," she says indulgently, "you can play with his hair a little bit. That tends to help him zonk out."

"Worried," Arum scoffs, but his voice is still near a whisper, so obviously feigning a lack of concern won't fool anyone, least of all someone as clever as Amaryllis. She raises an eyebrow, and Arum frowns and looks away until she gives another small laugh and flits her attention back to her notes.

Arum attempts to do the same, lifting his book and trying to focus on the words before him, but Damien inhales sharply, his head tilting away with a low stream of murmurs slipping from him, and Arum cannot focus on the book when he can still see Damien over the pages.

"Arum," the poet whispers, and Arum clenches his teeth. "Please… please…"

He fades to mumbles again, but Arum can hear his heart stuttering, his sleeping breaths growing more ragged, and he cannot help himself. He can hardly bear to see Damien plagued by his own mind when the poet is awake- how could he possibly endure watching when Damien cannot even attempt to fight back against it?

He reaches a hand out, slow, and just barely drifts his knuckles down Damien's cheek, hissing low between his teeth as Damien gasps. Damien murmurs again, wordless this time, and Arum leaves his hand on Damien's cheek, cupping his face gently before he lifts another hand and slips his fingers into Damien's hair.

"Please," the poet murmurs. "No- please don't- don't hurt-"

"Hush, honeysuckle. You're perfectly safe. I have you," Arum says, his claws carding slow through Damien's curls, but the poet's brow stays furrowed as he presses his face into Arum's other palm, and he gives a low whimper. "You are safe," he says again. "You're safe, honeysuckle."

"No," Damien murmurs, his expression twisting. "Can't... can't lose you, I can't…" he mutters off, incoherent once more, vague denials on his tongue, and Arum's heart lurches hard.

Arum leans closer, flicks his tongue, hesitates. "You're safe," he says, more quietly, and Damien whimpers. Arum hesitates again, repeats the motion to draw his hand through Damien's hair, slowly. "I'm safe, honeysuckle," he tries instead. "We are all safe."

Damien inhales, exhales a little less harshly. "But- lily… my lily-"

"We are safe, little love," he repeats, reaching a third hand to touch Damien's shoulder, to stroke up and down his arm. "Safe, and home, and-"

Arum pauses, and Damien shifts again, his lips parting. Arum leans closer, pressing his snout nearly to the skin beside Damien's ear, feeling Damien's heat tickle at his scales, his hands soft in the poet's hair, on his cheek, drifting across his shoulder.

"We are all safe, and home, and loved," he whispers. "Loved so fiercely, honeysuckle."

Damien hums, only almost words, and Arum can hear his heart slowing down already. He smiles, helpless against it, and nuzzles carefully closer.

"Not a force in the world could touch the magic between us, Damien."

Damien sighs, the remaining tension leaking out of his limbs, and when he murmurs again Arum cannot quite pick out his words, but-

Amaryllis was right. The nonsense does, indeed, seem to rhyme.

Arum buries a laugh, leaning back away from the poet now that he is sleeping more gently, and he realizes after half a moment that Amaryllis is watching him.

His frill flutters automatically, but the look on her face is nowhere near the laugh he expects. She is smiling, yes, but the smile is somewhat crooked, somewhat soft.

"Huh," she says.

"What?" he mutters, ducking his head. "You told me to- to play with his hair, I did."

"Yeah," she says, her smile going even wider. "You're… kinda good at that, huh?"

"I am good at most things, Amaryllis," he mutters, looking away, but then she shifts closer, her hand lifting to his chin to tilt his face back towards her.

"You're actually really sweet, you know that?"

Arum scoffs, his frill flaring in earnest now as he tries to look aside again, but he cannot pull away from her without disturbing Damien, and-

He startles when her lips press against his cheek, no hint of teasing in the touch, and when she pulls away her dark eyes are soft and warm. He can't make himself look away, and- he does not try.

"That was a compliment, y'know," she says, still smiling. "It's one of the things I love most about you."

"I- Amaryllis-"

"I just- I love you a lot, okay?"

She leans into his shoulder, settling against him with a sigh, and Damien is still curled beside him as well on the other side. Arum feels pinned between them, utterly breathless, perfectly warm.

He wraps an arm around her shoulder after a moment, pulling her even closer, dropping his head to rest against her own.

"I love you too," he murmurs, closing his eyes. "Rather absurdly much." Amaryllis breathes a slight laugh against his neck, and Arum smiles. "Enough, even, to let you call me sweet."

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #sir damien #amaryllis of exile #im..... sleeb.....

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