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damienthepious · 2 years

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it has been so fucking long since i’ve managed two whole posts in one LKT. pure madness. is my brain returning to me? saints i hope so....

still need your teeth around my organs (chapter 6)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ao3] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [ch 11] [epilogue?]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Enemies to Lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Dueling, Sexual Tension, (because they’re IDIOTS), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, mutual IDIOTS, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings

Fic Summary: Damien won yesterday, Arum won today, and now all that’s left is to break the tie. The only issue, however, is that neither of them are willing to do so, not until they are both satisfied that they have fought fairly, and honorably, and one of them has truly won.

Chapter Summary: Damien is only half-lucid enough for this conversation. He and his rival both refuse to let that stop them, however.

Chapter Notes: obviously continued warning from last chapter for injuries and medication! these two are going to be the death of me.

True to the doctor's word, Arum hears the faint sound of movement in the examination room a little more than an hour later, the rhythm of Damien's breaths catching in a faint gasp, a quiet groan. Arum stills, his eyes darting to the doorway, and Amaryllis pauses mid-word, raising an eyebrow in his periphery.

"He's coming around?" she asks with a tilt of the head, and Arum nods stiffly. "Saints. You've got good hearing, huh?"

Arum nods again, too distracted to decide whether or not that was a compliment and whether or not he is bothered by it. "He- he does not sound- distressed, or..."

"Let me just check him over real quick," she says, standing and- patting Arum's shoulder, quick and simple before he can react, and then she marches to the door with a glancing smile. "Two minutes, and then if he's still awake you can come talk with him. Okay?"

"I-" Arum snaps his teeth, unsettled and uncertain, wanting to either hiss and spit or otherwise to bowl past the doctor and see Sir Damien for himself, but- he snaps his teeth again, exhaling sharply through them, and then he gives a third nod, stiff and uncomfortable. "F-fine. I suppose that- yes. Better to have a- a professional look his sorry hide over, before- yes."

She smiles wider, nodding in return, and then she says again, "Two minutes," before she slips through the door and out of sight.

Arum-

Arum is far too uncomfortable to simply sit and wait. He stands from the table, pacing an awkward circle in the small room, ducking his head intermittently to avoid catching any hanging bundles of herbs on his horns.

He can hear Damien's breath catch, a fluting little noise, and then an exhale, and- and Arum knows with full certainty that the poet is sighing through a smile. He knows that particular noise.

"... would say, my flower, good morning," Damien breathes, and the stiffness in Arum's shoulders eases entirely at his voice, even so wavering and exhausted. "And all the more beautiful a waking for the blessing of your sight, but-"

"It's not morning, Damien," the doctor says, warmth and exasperation both in her tone. "Not for a while, yet. Now hold still, let me get a look-see."

Damien hums, a gentle assent, and Arum hears him whisper below the rustle as Amaryllis works. "Yet so brightly you glow, Rilla, like dawn, like... ah-"

"Yeah, you aren't gonna wanna stretch like that. Here, back down. Relax."

"Ah- yes, of- of course."

There is a minute or so of quiet, after that. Gentle rustling, the distinct noise of a bottle being uncorked, and Arum thinks- the name Rilla. Why does that catch in his mind? When has he heard-

"Nothing looks worse than it did earlier tonight," Amaryllis says dryly, and Arum can imagine her squinting with her hands on her hips. "Good. Thank you for staying put, this time."

Damien hums, vague and musing. "I believe... hm. I believe that you may have had a hand in my stillness, medicinally speaking, if this familiar fogginess in my mind is any indication, my flower."

"That is my job," she says brightly, and the knight breathes a soft laugh. "Do you think you might be up for a visitor, just for a few minutes?"

A pause. "A... a visitor?"

Another pause. Arum fidgets with his cape as he paces, imagining- perhaps the doctor nods, here, or smiles, or gestures meaningfully.

Damien must have- must have answered in some silent way of his own, though, because after a long, quiet moment, Amaryllis steps out of the room, leaving it cracked behind her again. She does not look surprised to find Arum standing, pacing, though he still instantly when she approaches.

"He's going to be a little out of it," she explains quietly with a half-smile. "He might doze off again, might be a little loopy- just, don't hold it against him, okay?"

"Wh-" Arum shakes his head. "Why would I- don't be ridiculous."

"And don't get him riled up, if you can help it," she continues, aiming a stubborn finger towards him as he blinks and pulls his head back. "I know that he gets himself going sometimes, but- just, like, try."

"I- I have no intentions of-" Arum scowls, utterly thrown off. "I only intend to- to confirm when he might- might wish to speak about our- our next duel. That is all. There will be nothing for him to become riled up about, Amaryllis."

She looks at him, her dark eyes stern and knowing and deep enough to worry, and he drops her gaze with a huff.

"Hm," she says, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her fingers off her elbows. "Well, that's not the most comforting speech I've ever heard, but- it'll have to do. Don't keep him awake too long, okay? He needs his rest."

She moves out of his way, going back to sit by the table again without fanfare, and Arum blinks after her warily for a long moment.

"Well?" she says, glancing up at him over her third cup of tea. "Go on, then. I'm not gonna stop you, and obviously I'm not going to eavesdrop, either. You two have your own thing," she says with a wave of the hand.

Arum opens his mouth, closes it, shakes his head again. He turns for the door, before the look on her face can rattle him any further. He pushes it open, and-

Might doze off again seems to have been the most accurate estimation. Damien does not look particularly conscious when Arum slips into the dim room, leaving the door cracked again behind him, just in case. He stirs slightly at the noise of Arum's claws against the wood floor of the hut, humming and tilting his head without opening his eyes, but apparently he managed to slip from the waking world again in the brief time it took for Arum and Amaryllis to converse.

Arum pauses, uncertain, thrown again by the sight of Sir Damien without armor or protection or that keen, steady look in his eye- but only for a moment. He steps closer, finding a sturdy seat beside the cot and settling there.

"Evening, honeysuckle," he manages, trying to keep his tone mellow and unconcerned, trying not to startle. "I hope you do not mind my intrusion, tonight. Your doctor did not seem to think that you would."

Damien blinks slowly, eyelids raising only halfway as his muzzy gaze finds Arum beside him in the dim of the room. He blinks again, lips pursing, but then-

He smiles, warm and dazed, and Arum tries not to react, not to lean towards the strange heat of it.

"Oh," Damien says, his voice more breath than word. "Arum."

Arum-

The way Damien's tongue curls around his name as his eyes slip back closed. The way his frame softens on the exhale. Arum doesn't know where to look, doesn't know what he is allowed while Damien is so- so vulnerable.

"This is... a dream, then," Damien hums, still smiling vaguely with his eyes closed. "Must have... drifted off. A dream... safe 'neath Rilla's roof and yet beside you, my dearest rival... my rival most dear."

"I should have known you would still play your tongue at poetics, honeysuckle, even while too injured to stand," Arum says, and he is glad for only the smallest moment for Damien's sedation, because it means the poet likely won't be able to hear the way his voice shakes beneath his intended gentle mocking. Hopefully the doctor was honest about giving him privacy, else she would certainly hear it.

"I could stand!" Damien insists, his eyelids fluttering open though his gaze remains unsettled and vague. "I could," he repeats and then he clenches his hands in the thin sheets as if to make good on the assertion.

"Don't," Arum growls, leaning close enough to press his palm against the back of Damien's hand. "Don't you dare, honeysuckle. Your doctor will have my head if I allow you to injure yourself in foolishness. I know full well that you're stubborn enough. You could, perhaps. You should not."

Arum hears the poet's heart skip a beat as Arum pulls his hand back, and some of the vagueness dissolves from his expression very suddenly, though he settles again, no longer threatening to rise.

"You..." he exhales, a huff of breath that isn't quite a laugh. "This... this isn't a dream," he says slowly. "This isn't- you're here. You are honestly... truly here."

Arum cannot read Damien's inflection; there is an odd blankness there. He nods, after a moment.

"So I am. Absurd as that may be. You have a deeply unusual physician."

Damien barks a surprised sort of laugh, then gasps and winces hard, lifting a hand to clutch at his side. "Oh, ah- don't make me laugh, Arum, my ribs-"

"Careful, little poet," Arum growls, frowning hard as Damien opens one eye through his wince. "I did not intend to... I thought that I was simply pointing out the obvious. I understand, I think, why you have explained our... situation to her. Clearly she understands enough. Understands your stubbornness, if nothing else."

Damien breathes another laugh, less strained, and then he sighs back against the pillows. "Stubbornness is a quality we share," he murmurs. "She and I, and you as well, I should say. Stubbornness abound."

"I am glad for it," Arum says, feeling- distinctly awkward. "If it means that she- that she can convince you not to disregard your own health for a single moment. Were you truly going to try to rush into the jungle to meet me, even in such a state? Bones cracked, freshly stitched-"

Damien ducks his head, an embarrassed curl to his lips. "I don't... I don't know. Truly, I cannot remember much with clarity. But- I do not remember, so obviously I cannot deny it, either. I know that I did not wish to leave you waiting, unaware, assuming the worst-"

"I wouldn't have-" Arum pauses, snaps his jaw shut, then huffs and looks away entirely. He hears the poet breathe another soft laugh. It should prickle at him, perhaps, that Damien knows his mind enough to predict how he would have reacted, but- "Well. I suppose you found a way to avoid the worst without injuring yourself, though- though sending your doctor to meet with me in your stead was an astonishingly dangerous maneuver."

Damien hums, pursing his lips for a moment, and then the tiredness seems to sweep through him again for a moment, and he sighs and closes his eyes. "Mm... I disagree, I think. I trust... yes, I trust her with my body, my heart, my soul. I trust her with yours, as well."

"You sent her to meet a monster, honeysuckle," Arum points out, too baffled by Damien even acknowledging the idea that Arum might have a soul to think of anything else to say. He had not even been thinking- he had not been considering the danger to himself, in that particular moment, only-

"I sent her to meet you," Damien breathes, his eyes still closed. "Arum... I sent her to you."

Arum swallows, even more uncomfortable, but he cannot think what to say to that. He shifts, ignoring the way his chest rumbles with a low growl.

"What beast did this to you?" Arum says suddenly, and he did not mean to allow the question to escape him, despite the sharp stab of territoriality in his stomach, but- "What creature dared to- to try to deny me my rival?"

Damien blinks his eyes back open again, his cheeks darkening just slightly with heat. "Ah- er, well-"

"I don't know how they dare," Arum growls, and the heat in Damien's cheeks deepens.

"You... you needn't worry," Damien says, ducking his head with an oddly sheepish smile. "It... well, it will not harm anyone else again, least of all myself."

Arum blinks, remembering unbidden how shockingly quick the little knight can draw and fire, his near-magical accuracy, the spark of his eyes in the midst of combat, and he manages with some effort not to laugh aloud at his own stupidity. "R-right. Yes, of course. I should have assumed- rather, I did not mean to imply that you could not- that you were not capable of-"

"I inferred no such thing from your questions, Lord Arum," Damien says, still ducking his head. "I would feel quite the same if someone else had..." he trails off, looking away, and then he meets Arum's eyes again. "I should mention, perhaps, that... that I am nearly certain that I survived as I did in no small part due to the skills I have honed in our duels, my dear rival. I could thank you for that, perhaps, but-"

"Don't," Arum snaps, and the poet stifles another laugh.

"Precisely," he says through a grin, "I thought you might not be keen on that particular gratitude."

Arum wrinkles his snout, looking away. When, eventually, he looks back, the poet still watches him carefully, his expression soft, blinking slow and lazy like a cat, clearly fading by degrees back towards unconsciousness.

"You... when, honeysuckle, do you think... when do you think we might meet next, to discuss our continuing duel?" Arum asks slowly, feeling dubious. This may, he thinks, have been a mistake. Damien does not seem entirely lucid at the moment, and... well, this does not feel fair. He cannot expect the knight to consider his schedule while sedated in a doctor's cot. "That is-"

"Oh, oh we needn't wait terribly long, I should think. I expect I will be perfectly mended in a week or so-"

Arum exhales sharply, pure disbelief as he pulls his head back.

"I am going to pretend that you said that entirely due to the sedative," he growls low. "Because your doctor told me that you broke a rib, and I am not so stupid as to think that will be mended in a week. I refuse to believe you would be so careless with yourself." He shakes his head, moving to stand. "This- I should apologize, honeysuckle, because this was- clearly a mistake. I will speak with Amaryllis and she will decide on a time when you will be healthy enough to speak with me again-"

"Wait- wait, no, please-"

Damien-

Damien grabs Arum's hand, skin warm against his scales and his heart thudding suddenly fast, his eyes wide and pleading and panicked, and Arum freezes.

"I- I'm sorry," Damien gasps, his voice thick and strange and frightened. "I'm sorry, please- don't- don't-"

Arum remains perfectly still, staring down at the knight, struck breathless by the shock of Damien's hand in his own.

"Honeysuckle-"

"I'm sorry," he says again, squeezing Arum's hand as his face twists in obvious misery. "Don't- don't leave? Please-"

"Damien," Arum breathes, and then-

(He told the doctor, did he not? He told her that he would not let Damien rile himself, if he could help it. He can- he can help this, can't he? He can-)

He leans closer, squeezing Damien's hand in return, frowning sternly and tutting under his breath as he settles back in his seat again. "Oh, hush," he mutters, looking away without releasing the poet's hand. "You need not apologize, little honeysuckle. You are injured and exhausted and dizzy with medicine. Hush, I'm not going- I'm not going anywhere just yet. Not unless you want me to."

"I don't," he keens, voice wavering weak and his eyes still wide and shining in a worrying way. "I don't- I'm- I'm sorry-"

"Hush," Arum repeats, more insistent, and then he switches tactics. "I am flattered that you are so eager, honeysuckle," he drawls, tilting his head, and Damien's mouth curls into more of a pout. "But you know fully well how exacting my standards are, don't you? You must, by now. I will not have you at less than your best. Rest. Recover, little rival. When you are ready-" he pauses. "When your Amaryllis says that you are ready, rather, we will meet again. I can be as patient as I need to be. I've been patient for my victory so far, haven't I?"

Damien pouts more deeply, exhaling a long, tired breath as he gazes up at Arum. "I suppose... I suppose we have... we have both shown our patience. I only... I don't want to... to be left by the wayside, to fall from your... your attention."

Arum pauses as Damien's eyes slip back shut, and then the words register properly in his mind and he gives an incredulous laugh.

"Lose my-" he laughs again, utterly baffled. "Honeysuckle. You need not worry for my attention. Of all in the world, you need not worry for that."

Universe help him think of anything else besides Sir Damien, some days. Ridiculous.

Damien hums, eyes still closed, his head drifting slowly sideways in a losing battle with gravity. "So long to wait, though," he murmurs, his fingers fluttering against Arum's palm. "So long... I'll miss you."

Arum-

Arum stills, staring hard at the knight as his breathing evens out again, as his hand goes slack in Arum's grip.

"R-ridiculous," he breathes, after a long, long moment, when he is certain that Damien is safely unconscious again. "Utterly- utterly absurd."

As absurd, of course, as the idea of Arum missing Damien in return.

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#elle's fanfic #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #sir damien #still need your teeth around my organs #aaaAAAAAAAAAAAA #[begs for comments] [begs for comments] [begs for comments] [begs for comments]

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