pumpkinewe

There is a slightly graphic scene where Shafir ends up sewing his stomach wound closed but it had a start and end warning for those that want to skip.

"You idiot! I still don't know how you fell for that stupid trap. If I hadn't been there to get you out of it, who knows how bad it would have been?" Shafir shifted the captain so that he leaned on him more. He could manage a bit of extra weight and, with how slow Eliqinor was walking, it would take them forever to get back to their horses and messed up camp. With the orc dead and the necromancer seemingly not coming after them, it took all of Shafir's strength to help the taller and larger male hobble down the trail they had come up. Eliqinor chuckled at the nagging coming from his vice-captain. To say he had been bitching for the past 20 minutes would be an understatement, but someone had to do it! He also felt slightly responsible, as he shouldn't have left Eliqinor so defenseless. The older of the two had mentioned that if he used his magic signature sensing for too long, it could cause a deterioration in his senses for a short period. Little did Shafir think it would deteriorate him so far as to not realize there was a trap nearby. “Not to mention it was poisoned. Who doesn’t bring a herb pouch with them when they don’t know what we are up against? How foolish can one man be?!” 

“In the report, there was nothing mentioning poison. You had no idea either.” Silence stretched between them because Shafir didn’t have a way to refute Eliqinor’s rebuttal. Neither of them knew, and while Shafir had been more prepared than his captain in that regard, it didn’t mean he held the high ground in this conversation. If he had realized how much of a pain in the ass, this mission would have been he would’ve requested at least the aid of two more knights or a healer. Two limped along through the woods, Eliqinor loudly grunting every so often as the pressure on his bad leg caused him pain. Shafir found his idiotic captain infuriating and tightened his grip around Eliqinor’s waist to hoist him off his leg more. As soon as he pulled up on the taller male, he felt a twang of pain in his stomach. Bile rose in his throat and his vision sparked with pain. Fuck. 

“Shafir?” Eliqinor’s voice sounded far away, but the concern in his voice wasn’t missed. He had hoped they could get back to camp before this happened. Shafir could feel his grip loosening around the other and his stomach screamed at him. He couldn’t do anything with the pain and the tightening feeling in his chest. His arms grew weak, and he fell forward onto the ground, the throbbing of his stomach the only constant. Eliqinor spoke to him, but he couldn’t hear it. The adrenaline had run its course and now he had no choice but to give up. If only he had got Eliqinor back to camp, he knew he could have relaxed until he woke up. Shafir’s vision grew black, and he welcomed the feeling of his body giving up. 

When Shafir came to, they were back at the camp. How Eliqinor dragged him back with the state his leg was in was a mystery. Looking around, Shafir couldn’t find Eliqinor and it made his heart pound. Where was he? He couldn’t have gotten far. He shifted and felt his shoulder rub up on the tree he was propped against. Shafir grunted loudly as he repositioned himself, and the rustling of the bushes alerted him to the sound of someone coming. He reached for the hilt of his sword and his hand grasped at nothing. Shit. Shit. Shit. If he was unarmed and that idiot had abandoned him, then he was as good as dead. A blonde head appeared from the forest and he felt a sigh of relief leave his body when he saw the familiar face. He had returned with something, and Eliqinor seemed just as relieved to see the dark elf awake. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Eliqinor, placed down, from what Shafir could tell, an emergency canteen full of water. The container was charred slightly by a heating stone, which meant he had boiled the water for sanitation. "How are you feeling?" 

"Fine. Other than the gaping hole in my stomach," Shafir said. He sat up and felt his back rub against the tree. His hand came up to inspect the wound but was easily swatted away by Eliqinor. The older elf's hand landed on the bloodied wound with a rag and wiped it gently. The warmth of the water felt irritating on the cut, but it had to be done, especially if he didn't want to get an infection before the rescue team got here. "How long have I been out?"

"Not long." Eliqinor's hand moved, and Shafir could get a better look at his wound. It wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, but he knew it needed stitches at the least. The edges were jagged and red. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to be in big trouble. "I boiled a needle and thread so-" 

"Give it here." Shafir held out his hand and Eliqinor placed the freshly boiled needle and thread. If he hadn't woken up, would Eliqinor have taken it upon himself to stitch his vice-captain up? Not that Shafir would say Eliqinor was good at it, that was the one thing the golden boy was bad at. His skills at administering medical help were less than competent. When they were still squires no matter what Eliqinor did, he always broke the needle when he held it. So perhaps it was better that Shafir tended to his own wounds. “Get me something to bite down on.” 

GRAPHIC SCENE WARNING START

Eliqinor did as Shafir instructed and rummaged through the saddlebags. Eliqinor pulled out a thick piece of leather from Shafir's bag and limped his way back over. Shafir snatched the leather once it was within reach. He grabbed the captain by his hand and yanked on him, forcing the other to kneel in front of him. With the way Eliqinor was limping around, he was going to aggravate his leg wound and that was most definitely the last thing Shafir wanted to deal with. 

"I don't have any of those fancy tools that the medics have, so I'll have to make do with you." Shafir huffed and looked down at the wound. The edges were ragged, and the bleeding had mostly stopped. Eliqinor understood what Shafir wanted and pressed his fingers against the wound to tighten the skin. Shafir nodded in approval, not before wincing from the contact, and placed the leather strap in his mouth.

His hands made quick work of using the needle to place a stitch, and he felt bile gathering at the back of his throat. It had been a long time since he had to do this with no kind of painkiller. The first stitch was always the worst for him as the pain always struck him like a bolt of lightning, quick and without mercy, lighting the skin a flame. When Shafir let out a loud grunt and chewed on the leather, he felt the man in front of him shift, getting closer. It was both irritating and somehow comforting. His breath grew heavy once the stitch was in place and felt the other elf gently take the needle and thread from him. He needed time to gain his composure. Shafir could only imagine the mess he looked like. 

“I’ll tie it. Take some time to regain your senses. When you are ready for the next one, let me know.” Shafir felt the signature tug of a thread being knotted as Eliqinor spoke. His hands were gentle and Shafir watched as Eliqinor waited for the other to tell him what to do. While he trusted Eliqinor, sometimes, he didn’t feel like the high elf could sew him up the way he liked. Eventually, they went back to work and Shafir hastily did what needed to be done. 

GRAPHIC SCENE WARNING END

Once the last stitch was in place, Shafir felt an overwhelming sense of relief. While he was still in pain, knowing his open wound was mostly taken care of was the biggest relief. He put the needle down and opened his mouth. Eliqinor pulled out the leather strap from between the dark elf's lips. It was indented and covered in his saliva. It was embarrassing to have Eliqinor help him in this situation, but it was better than biting his own tongue off in pain. 

"Want some booze?" Shafir's eyebrow cocked at the sound of Eliqinor asking such a question. What captain carried booze around on a mission? Let alone Eliqinor, who mind you, he had never seen the other even take a sip out of a wine cup, even at the graduation ceremony when all the other squires drank their hearts out Eliqinor and himself were the only ones not downing the liquid. 

"Is it strong?" Shafir asked and covered his wound with one of the bandage strips Eliqinor had made of his cloak. The white material snugged tightly around his waist and laid carefully over the wound so as not to aggravate it. 

"Should be strong enough to make the pain go away and if not, there should be enough of it to do that," Eliqinor said and got up from where he kneeled in the grass in front of Shafir. He was still a bit surprised the captain thought packing booze was more important than carrying herbs. Shafir would truly never understand this man.

"If you think it'll help, I'll have to oblige, unwillingly, to your generosity." Eliqinor returned to where Shafir was propped up, moving was too much effort, and to be honest he just wanted to get drunk and pass out until help arrived. Eliqinor could handle himself since his leg seemed to do better since the poison had been drawn out. 

"Take it slow and see how you feel. I'll be right back. I'm going to look for something to eat, so don't drink it all." Shafir nodded and snatched the jar of alcohol. He waved the older elf off and popped the top of the alcohol. Not only was this alcohol it was the expensive kind, that much he could tell by the strong but sweet aroma that escaped from the opening. He hated sweet things. He thought they were disgusting, especially since they had always been Eliqinor's favorite and he had stocked the office full of sweet buns for a week before Shafir bitched him out for it. 

Eliqinor stalked off into the woods and Shafir threw his head back when he took a sip. The alcohol, more namely the wine, must have been a foreign brew, as it didn't have the taste of anything that was native to the Slentis Empire. Either that or someone specifically brewed it to Eliqinor's taste. 

He swirled the container of wine a few times, thinking. On multiple occasions, the Empress, Princess at that time, had asked Shafir to join her on her wine-tasting journey. This, of course, was all a ruse for her to sneak out and go to some pub far away from the empire city. She would sing and drink to her heart's content. Like the loyal knight he was, he'd hoist her off the bar and bring her home each time. Though she was often incoherently singing some tavern tune while he had to make sure she didn't vomit all over herself. Those days were stressful and so he never took her up on the offer. He had a job to do, after all. He lifted the bottle and felt the sweet liquid pour down his throat. It was nice…

"All I could find were some gooseberr-" Shafir looked up at Eliqinor as his lips parted around the opening of the wine bottle. The other didn't seem phased but his eyes went anywhere that wasn't Shafir's face. Eliqinor cleared his throat before he spoke again, "Gooseberries. They were in quite an abundance…" 

Shafir pulled the wine bottle from his mouth and looked at Eliqinor's open hands. The gooseberries were still wet, dripping with whatever water Eliqinor had used to clean them, and the thorns were already torn out. Shafir's eyes shifted to the cuts and scrapes that the berries had left. They weren't deep and there was no bleeding. So truthfully, Shafir paid little mind to them. His fingers grabbed the delicate berries and threw them in his mouth. Thankfully, the sour flavor balanced out the rich sweetness of the wine. 

"Do you want some?" Shafir tipped the wine bottle toward the other and jostled it. The wine sloshed around loudly. Eliqinor looked at the bottle and then at Shafir. If he didn't know better, Shafir would think the other man was asking his permission. He shook it again and opened his mouth to speak once more. "Well, do you want some or not? I will not wait all day. My arm will get sore if I wait for you to decide." 

It didn't take long for Eliqinor to take the wine from Shafir and throw his head back as he drank. Shafir watched as Eliqinor's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. It was an odd sight. Even when Shafir watched him drink anything at the office, he seemed to do so elegantly. Though to his surprise here, his captain was drinking the wine as if he was a man who had just found water in the desert. Once he was done, Eliqinor wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Disgusting, really, was the only thing that Shafir could think at the moment. 

"Give it back. I want some more now." Eliqinor quickly passed the wine back to Shafir. Some time passed as they sat there, passing the bottle back and forth. Shafir closed his eyes, just relaxing in the bliss that being drunk brought. The pain in his stomach while not gone was far out of his mind as he let his thoughts wander. 

"-ir?"

He felt an annoyance tickle his mind and tried to ignore it. If he was lucky, he could get a good sleep with no nightmares. It would be wonderful. His mind just needed time to rest and then everything would be fi-

"Shafir?" Eliqinor's voice sounded miles away as Shafir tried to wrangle in the fog that washed over his thoughts. The sound of his captain being concerned about him caused something to stir behind the stitching of his stomach. It itched so much he was tempted to scratch and hope it went away. Shafir tried to drive off the feeling by taking another mouthful of the wine before turning to look at Eliqinor. By the Mother did they both look like shit. "Shafir… Shafir?" 

"Bah! Why are you repeating my name so much? I'm not dead yet, you idiot!" He went back to drinking. The taste brought a hum to his mind, and he gladly let the sound flow out of him. It was a long time since he last drank. That was mostly his own fault since he showed up at the captain's room and started spewing insults at him. It didn't end well as they both brawled and it ended in Shafir, losing and being tended to by some tall elf. Seemed he had some knowledge of healing because Shafir had not a single mark the next day. 

Soon enough, the sound of shuffling drew what little attention Shafir had back to the moment. It reminded him of the noise someone made when they were crawling, ah the captain is moving around like a baby. His thought almost made him laugh out loud but was quickly interrupted. A warm hand covered his own that was holding the wine and forced him to put it down. His mind was hazy and he couldn't tell what was happening at first. Well, between the pain of his stomach wound and the lightheadedness the wine caused was to be expected. 

"... Shafir…" With a warm hand, Shafir assumed it was a different one he couldn't be sure though, tilted his head back, and he felt warmth pressing against his lips. It was soft and inviting, almost as intoxicating as the wine, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. Shafir's body quickly succumbed to the warmth that pressed against his body and mouth. He couldn't care less about what was happening except it felt good and it helped take his mind off the ache that settled all over his body. 

The warm hand moved from his chin and cupped his cheek softly. Something about it felt too intimate, and it made him shiver. It was nowhere near as animalistic as he felt at the moment, and it didn't suit his tastes. He needed something rougher and something that would touch his jaded soul. Slowly his hand let go of the wine and, like a predator pouncing on its prey, the hand that had grabbed the wine intertwined with his own. Rough, calloused hands clasped as if the owner was afraid of losing Shafir, and he could tell they would never let him go. 

"Fuck…" A breathy voice said as Eliqinor broke away from the kiss. Shafir wasn't sure who it came from; all he knew was that he was desperate. He needed to feel more and taste the Eliqinor on his lips once again. There wasn't much time before Eliqinor descended onto Shafir once more, his kisses growing in strength. The chasteness of the act was gone, and it became something akin to a feral animal. A ragged breath left Shafir's mouth and Eliqinor explored. His tongue was hot and heavy. The taste of the wine had been the same as before, but something was added to it, making it more delicious. He drank it down, chasing the heady taste by sucking lightly. Eliqinor's grip on his hand tightened and Shafir leaned his head back more to deepen the kiss. He was going to die if he didn't get more. His body felt like there was an inferno raging inside of him. 

Soon enough they parted and the breath between them was heavy, heated, and hot like they were. Shafir opened his eyes to see an equally debauched Eliqinor in front of him. Face and ears flushed from their kisses along with the alcohol coursing through their veins. Shafir watched as Eliqinor's ears twitched slightly from the dark elf's gaze. Eliqinor placed a soft kiss on Shafir's bottom lip before working his way along his jaw. The pain-pleasure left behind by Eliqinor's nips and kisses caused a shiver to run through his body. He felt uncomfortable, like a string pulled taut and, if plucked properly, he could easily give into anything. Shafir pulled his hands away from Eliqinor and fisted them into the light-colored cloth of Eliqinor's tunic. Before, his hands had been wandering any and everywhere they could, but they finally made their home in the white and gold fabric. 

"E-Eli…" Shafir gasped when he felt Eliqinor's mouth open and his tongue licked up the length of his pointed ear. He felt his body tremble and an uncomfortable tightness made itself home in his stomach, which eventually made its way to the crotch of his pants. Shafir soon realized what this feeling was and felt his face burn. If his face wasn't already red with embarrassment, he knew it was now for sure. Shafir felt a pang of pain as Eliqinor bit the tip of his ear and he winced lightly. Eliqinor pulled back and looked down at Shafir, his eyes clouded with what the other could assume was lust. 

"Shafir…" Eliqinor dipped his head down and pressed his lips against Shafir's neck. The lips left a burning sensation along his throat once it drowned out the pain he felt in his stomach and he felt his body respond to the soft coaxing of Eliqinor's touch. Shafir tilted his neck to the side to allow the other male better access to kiss and nip at the sensitive flesh. His lips parted and soft moans filled the silent air. His mind was so fuzzy and he felt warm being held so intimately by Eliqinor's brawny arms. 

“-ir?” 

"Mnm?" Shafir didn't know when he had closed his eyes and opened them when he heard Eliqinor's voice calling out to him. Shafir looked at the other's face, his brows furrowed, and it looked like Eliqinor was thinking something through before he pulled himself away from Shafir. The dark elf groaned at the abrupt movement and reached out for Eliqinor. The high elf pressed his hands against Shafir's shoulders forcing him roughly against the tree. Shafir grunted from the force of the impact and Eliqinor descended on him once more. 

His hands roamed over Shafir's body, careful of the injury on the other's stomach. His fingers dipped under leather and cotton pressing against heated skin. Shafir's breath caught in his throat as Eliqinor struggled with the waistband on his pants, fingers fumbling over the laces that held Shafir's pants closed. Shafir pushed at Eliqinor's shoulders, trying to push him away so that he could undo his own pants. With a rougher push and growl, Eliqinor went tumbling back onto his ass. He looked at his hands and Shafir couldn't understand the terror that crossed the other's face. 

"Eli-" 

"No more. I can't do it…" Eliqinor stalked off into the dark of the camp and Shafir sat there dumbfounded. He wasn't sure how to react to the whiplash he felt, and it hurt. It felt like the fire that Eliqinor stoked within him had been put out with ice-cold water. Even when he was a drunk and vulnerable mess, nobody wanted him. Not even for a second, the one person he was desperately hoping for, not even he wanted him. 

"FUCK YOU!" Shafir shouted. There was no movement in the direction where Eliqinor disappeared and he felt heat roll down his cheeks. He lifted his hand and wiped at the warmth, only to be met with the wetness of tears. He hadn't wanted to cry. Shafir promised himself he wouldn't cry when his father passed, but here he was crying over an idiot who left him alone in a moment of weakness. "Fuck you… You asshole…”