Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a round of patrol like any other. Go out, make sure everything is as it should be and no danger is encroaching on the camp, maybe take care of a few Wild Hunt creatures, and go back to write a report.
That was not how it ended.
The Wild Hunt's sudden appearance right at their feet had already been dangerous. Over 10 exiles surrounded Illuga and two of his squad mates, which, while not ideal, could still be dealt with if handled with care. Even when those numbers doubled, Illuga was still confident that they could survive the encounter, even if they walked away with broken bones and bleeding wounds.
No, that had not been the issue.
"Captain, behind you!"
Rollon's warning had come too late. By the time Illuga's head snapped around, the hunter's axe was mere inches from his glabella. Too close to block, too late to dodge, even as the world around him seemed to come to a halt.
He didn't want to die like this. He couldn't die like this, not when it meant the certain death of his squad mates. They had barely been holding on as is. He could not leave them behind in this situation.
And in the end, it wasn't even just them that Illuga would hurt with his death. His team, his old man, and...
He supposed he would have to break his promise this time around.
But at this point, that wasn't really his choice, was it?
This time, he couldn't escape death.
...
He should have accepted when Flins offered to come along... Or at least he should have properly said goodbye.
'Well, at least he didn't have to watch me die what was likely a very gruesome death,' Illuga thought as he let his eyes fall shut, awaiting his end.
...
...
...
His end never came.
Some time passed before Illuga really registered that he never felt the pain that should have hit him within mere seconds. It took him a while to realize he was still living, breathing...he was still alive.
He opened his eyes and found himself not at Kipumaki Cliff, but rather a seemingly endless snowfield. Fresh snow covered everything around him, the only disruption in it being where he stood, feet sunken knee-deep into it.
The moon shone upon the quiet meadow, painting a beautiful and serene picture that Illuga might have appreciated more had it not been for his highly raised guard. No matter how beautiful, this was an unknown place. An unknown place he had no idea how he had gotten to.
...
Had he died after all? Was this the afterlife? If it was, it felt far more peaceful than Illuga thought he deserved. He had left his subordinates to their death, and now here he stood in the peace and quiet of a beautiful winter scene.
Just then, the wind blew by, sending shivers down Illuga's spine. It was cold, he now realized, incredibly cold. It was freezing, which, in hindsight, seemed fair considering the surroundings. How he had not felt it till that moment was a mystery, but now that he had, he couldn't stop shivering.
Okay, perhaps the afterlife wasn't so peaceful after all.
When the cold hit him, so did everything else. Exhaustion, pain, the realization that this was the end, that there was nothing after this, that he could never see his loved ones again...
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, before swaying and collapsing into the snow.
It was only then that Illuga discovered that he had done more to ruin the serenity of this place than to leave some indents in the snow. The pure white around him had turned an unsettling shade of crimson. As it turns out, dying did not heal the deep wound from that one slash into his side he had received earlier. With the adrenaline and the enemies still present, he had not taken much note of it back then, but with this amount of blood, it seemed to be worse than he had thought.
Should he be grateful that at least the traces of the strike that had ended his life weren't there? Now that would have been a rather gruesome thing.
Either way, here he lay now, somehow dying even in death.
...
Ah... Was this it? Was this his punishment for leaving his squadmates behind to die? An eternal cycle of death?
If so, then so be it. Illuga closed his eyes, awaiting certain death, trying now to think of things, of people, that would make his chest tighten more than physical pain ever could.
So he forced his eyes to remain shut, hiding in the darkness in his last moments as if that would help. For some reason, he was reminded of an old lightkeeper legend. The one about following a blue light to salvation in a moment of crisis. That broke Illuga, reminding him of a certain blue burning lantern that belonged to the one whom Illuga could call his salvation.
His happiness, his joy, his love... The one he would never see again. The one he had practically thrown out of Cliffwatch Camp without a proper goodbye for having taken his teasing too far before going on patrol. The one who would be awaiting his arrival at the lighthouse the next day. The one Illuga had promised to spend his time off with, just the two of them.
Oh, how he wishes to be guided from this darkness by that soft blue light. Perhaps enough that his mind made such a scene up for him, azure permeating through the black in front of his eyes. Even the scent, the one that always clung to Flins, the one of flowers Illuga couldn't quite name... So close, so safe, as if he could just reach out and he would be right there-
"Oh dear," a voice suddenly sounded, breaking the silence in the snowy field. A sounds so familiar that even in his still weakening state, it made Illuga force his eyes open just as a gentle hand brushed his cheek.
There he was, crouched next to Illuga, looking at him worriedly. His clothes were different from usual, and his feet were on top of the snow, just existing there without sinking, without leaving a trace, but Illuga didn't care. Why would he when his beloved stood before him? Why would he-
Oh.
Right.
He had died. If Flins was here then-
"Do forgive me, this will hurt, but there is little choice at the moment," Flins's words cut off Illuga's thoughts, and the gentle hand left his cheek to settle on his bleeding side.
What came next was pure agony, a mix of burning and frostbite. Illuga's mouth opened to scream, but he tried to force it back down, tried to bite his own lip to muffle the cries, but instead of his lower lip, his teeth met leather, and his eyes Flins's beautiful yellow ones filled with disapproval.
"If you are to bite something, you should do so with something that will not cause you further harm."
No, he couldn't do that. He couldn't bite Flins's hand just because whatever he was doing hurt a bit. Flins shouldn't have to be in pain because of his stupid choices and mistakes-
The pressure on his side suddenly increased, making Illuga bite down hard on instinct, his eyes rolling back from pain. It hurt worse than anything Illuga had ever experienced, and he couldn't even tell what Flins was doing. He tried lifting his head, he tried to look, but the hand between his teeth held his head in place ever so gently, preventing him from doing so.
Fortunately for Illuga, the pressure and pain were gone as fast as they arrived. Well, most of it was. His body still shook with residual pain even as Flins removed his hand from his mouth, leaving him panting for air.
"That should do for now. Let us get you somewhere-"
"Flins..."
The name rolled off Illuga's tongue like a prayer, like his last ray of hope. He wanted to say so much more, ask so many questions, but he didn't have the strength for it anymore. Be it the blood loss or the pain from what Flins had done, it had sapped away all of his energy, leaving him barely enough to call out Flins's name.
For some reason, Flins looked at him with an expression between amusement and surprise, his eyes flickering with yet another thing Illuga couldn't quite read, especially not with his eyes falling close.
"Rest well, young one," Illuga heard Flins chuckle as he drifted off to unconsciousness. "We shall discuss this later."
-
Illuga might have woken up a few times as he was being moved. Either that, or he may have hallucinated the whole thing, which was not off the table.
First time around, he had woken up in search of the familiar weight of his lantern only to find nothing in its place. No lantern, no Aedon either. He had found himself in Flins's arms; he should have felt safe, he should have been fine, but still he squirmed, feeling exposed without his trusty companion at his side.
He remembers Flins shushing him, pausing his steps. He remembers feeling a strange energy washing over him. It had been calming, almost like a cold blanket. It had lulled him right back to sleep.
Next time, his eyes barely fluttered open, just long enough to see a tall and fancy ceiling he was sure he had never seen before in his life.
The third time around, the world around him was soft. He only heard voices, not having enough energy to open his eyes. One voice belonged to Flins, the other he couldn't recognise. They were speaking in a language Illuga hadn't heard before. He didn't have the faintest idea what it could be, but then again, he may have hallucinated the whole thing anyway.
By the fourth time, his pain had disappeared almost entirely, replaced by a nice cool sensation. Then, there was that unknown voice again, closer, clearer, in a language Illuga understood.
"There we go. That should do it."
When Illuga opened his eyes, the world was blurry. He tried to focus, but the most he could make out was a white figure sitting close by, somewhat leaning over him. The owner of the unknown voice, he figured as soon as the person spoke.
"Awake already? Oh, dear, we can't have that. The state of your mind might be worse than your body's, Αηδονάκι. Sleep a bit longer," the man spoke, his tone so cheerful that even his worry was filled with glee.
Αηδονάκι. That word Illuga couldn't recognize. Not that he was given too much time to think about it. The stranger's hand covered his eyes. It was inhuman, cold as ice, even colder than Flins's, and the older ratnik already ran cold.
An energy similar to the one that blanketed him earlier made its way deep into his mind as well, and sleepiness washed over Illuga once more.
"Goodnight, Αηδονάκι. I'll get our dear friend back here for you by the time you wake up next time," Illuga heard the stranger say just before he lost consciousness.
The fifth time Illuga woke up, he was fully conscious. He could move, the world was no longer blurry and-
"Sir Flins!"
Conscious as he was, clearly his strength had not fully returned. The second he practically jumped out of bed in Flins's direction, all strength left Illuga's body, and he found himself falling face-first towards the floor.
Fortunately for him, he didn't get so far. Before he could even mentally curse about not being careful, an arm went around his chest, stopping his fall.
"Thank-" Normally, he would have been embarrassed by the whole situation, but Illuga's words died in his throat as his eyes went wide.
Wings.
There were wings on Flins's back. Two pairs, both the same shade of blue as the flame that burned within the older ratnik's lantern. As Illuga forced himself to turn to face his lover, he also spotted pointed ears poking through his hair.
He had known Flins wasn't human; it was quite obvious, but knowing that he wasn't human wasn't the same as knowing what he was, and he certainly hadn't expected to find out like this.
Fae, his mind provided.
"You are a fae," Illuga mumbled aloud in wonder, asking for confirmation.
"Never made myself out to be anything else, young one," Flins chuckled, sounding perhaps a bit confused as he gently guided Illuga to sit back down on the bed.
Young one... Never did Illuga think that he would be so bothered if Flins stopped calling him Young Master, even though he had been the one to ask him to do so on multiple occasions. This new one just seemed like a dig though.
Besides...
"I would argue that you've done just about everything to appear anything but fae, Sir Flins." Illuga smiled.
He couldn't help it. If he were dead, he was glad to at least be able to be here with Flins. This, whatever this was, the afterlife or a mere hallucination between the land of the living and the dead, Flins, this Flins, must just be that too. The Rächer of Solnari had been dealt with, and the Doctor was gone as well. Surely there was no way Flins would die on his way home if he managed to survive all that.
The one he was seeing now must just be some miracle, a sliver of kindness from whatever higher power was responsible for this.
Surely it would not be so criminal for Illuga to find a little joy in it, to try and forget that this wasn't, in fact, real and that he had-
"I'm not sure what you mean," Flins's voice interrupted his thoughts as the fae looked at Illuga with a mixture of confusion and worry. "I do not believe we have met before, so I'm unsure of how and why you have this picture of me."
...
"Sir Flins?" Illuga's smile cracked.
Never met? Them? But just yesterday, they were...
"If I may interrupt," Someone cut in. There was that voice again, but at least this time, with his vision clear, Illuga could place a face to it.
He hadn't noticed the figure in the corner till that point, but now that he had, it was a bit hard to look away.
A man in his late twenties, his beauty comparable to Flins, or at least that was how he looked, but taking the pair of white wings and pointed ears into account, god knows how old he actually was. His snow-white hair hid a pair of piercing silver eyes that seemed to look straight into Illuga's soul as he walked up to the bed. Had it not been for the wings and ears, Illuga would have pegged the man as Liyuen according to the silver-accented white hanfu he wore, but as far as he knew, fae all lived in Snezhnaya.
"May I?" The man asked, holding a hand out to Illuga as if asking him to take it
Illuga couldn't help but glance at Flins, not daring to take the white-haired fae's hand. Flins glanced between the two of them, receiving a cheeky grin from the other fae before he sighed.
"He means you no harm, but it is your choice whether or not you allow him to do as he pleases."
...
Whether or not he remembered him, Illuga had no one else to trust but Flins. Perhaps that was a bad decision, but he had entrusted the older ratnik with his life on many occasions before, and he would do so again. Besides, what could possibly happen? He was already dead anyway.
And so, he reached out, putting his hand in the white-haired fae's, waiting as... nothing happened?
If anything changed, it was the fae's expression, his smile morphing into an amused smirk.
"So," he started, "Illuga, is it? How fun."
-
-
Translations:
Αηδονάκι - little nightingale