kremdelacreme | PSL for killedwithlove

Entry tags:

cole,
rp threads

PSL for killedwithlove

The Chargers were back at Skyhold after a week-long mission that had taken them clear out to the Antivan border, a job separate from the Inquisition's dealings that The Iron Bull had taken for incredibly handsome pay, after making absolutely sure that it wouldn't have any impact on the Inquisition. But now they were home, looking no worse for wear, toting a wagon full of casks that they were telling anyone that would listen were full of whiskey.

But things were amiss. They were short a man, and nothing about the way they conducted themselves made it seem like something bad had happened. They were just suddenly one fewer than normal.

Another week, and still their Lieutenant hadn't come back. None of the Chargers said a damn thing when questioned on the whereabouts of one Cremisius Aclassi, even redirecting the conversation when someone would get insistent. There wasn't much point in poking around in any of their heads either, as none of them knew for sure where he'd gone or why. All they seemed to know was that he would be back sooner or later.

Another week, and the Inquisitor had decided to go to the Frostback Basin to learn what he could about Inquisitor Ameridan. This left Skyhold fairly empty, left the civilians to their own devices, nobody any the wiser save for the occasional reports that the Inquisitor sent back about what he was learning.

Krem's return to the fortress was without fanfare, literal or otherwise. He simply trudged across the bridge that led inside from the mountains, a sack slung over his back with his maul, which looked to have been cleaned, repaired and even upgraded, materials-wise. It was so early in the morning that it was still dark, giving him the chance to get to his quarters without interference, and as he passed through the tavern on his way there, he was entirely focused on finding his way to his bed. He ached all over, a bone-deep soreness that blotted out more specific hurts, and the moment his door was closed and locked behind him, he sank onto his bed with a deep groan, falling slowly onto his side and using one hand to start unbuckling his harness and armor, letting it all clatter on the floor without a single thought regarding the noise. He only sat back up to strip off his leathers, then rolled over to face the wall, blanket pulled over his head, almost instantly asleep.

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"I appreciate being able to hold onto you," Krem added. He craned his neck to look over Cole's shoulder to get a better gauge of his reaction to it all. He curled his leg up to rest half on Cole's outstretched one, keeping enough off of it to keep from cutting off the circulation and making his leg go numb.

After a couple of seconds he put his head back down.

"Next time there's a chance to go, we can find a bed for you, if you would want one. Somewhere comfortable and warm for you to go when you want quiet."

Cole looked relaxed and content. His eyes were open, but there was no wariness or tension to him. He shuffled back a touch more, letting krem's leg rest more on his.

"But I can come here if I want to lie in a bed. I can't take a bed from someone who needs one."

With Cole scooting back into him, Krem's arm came to wrap around him fully, the other arm stuck under both of them but bent up as comfortably as possible. His nose pressed against the side of Cole's neck, his eyes falling closed.

"Glad you know you can come here whenever you like, but you should still have a space of your own. Everyone I've ever known has had something like that."

"Why? I have my corner, in the loft. It has my chest with my knives and armour." He rested a hand on Krem's, slung over him. "Cole didn't have his own space. He had a bed. I don't need a bed."

Krem finally gave up, knowing they'd be talking in circles for an hour otherwise. He just sighed against the back of Cole's neck then tucked his head down, absorbing the other's warmth. He brought his hand up to play with the ends of Cole's fingers, before lacing them between his and holding them loosely.

Cole gave a soft sigh of comfort, nuzzling his head back into Krem and settling in. He was happy to stay here while Krem slept, so long as no one needed him.

Anyway. It was nice. Comfortable.

Safe.

Krem didn't sleep so much as he dozed for a long while, anticipating when Cole would finally bore of being there or hear someone that needed him, the latter more likely than the former. When he finally fell asleep it wasn't long before Cole left, and he only stayed asleep for a little while before sitting up again, wincing at the renewed ache in his chest. He pulled his clothes straight and went to find a healer that would be able to give him a quick painkiller, then started walking the grounds, starting with the battlements. He wanted to see that massive damaged portion of the wall, as he intended to pester the growing force around the Chargers' core to help repair it.

He took a seat on one of the low walls around the inner garden, surveying the silent grounds, glancing around when he heard a commotion barreling straight toward him. The Chargers, having been waiting for the right moment to descend upon him, rushed the garden and Krem had to stand and brace himself. He couldn't help the sudden yelp upon being lifted off the ground, kicking at the air and shoving on Bull's face until he was put down again.

Brief words were exchanged, then Krem's shirt pulled to one side to show his bare shoulder, making them all aware of what he'd gone and done. He smacked a few hands that went to poke his tender chest, then shooed them off to the Herald's Rest. On the walk there, he sent out a brief mental missive in case Cole might pick it up, something to let him know where he would be for...probably the rest of the evening. That would give Cole plenty of chance to do whatever he needed to.

Cole had vanished off to help with the baby. And then he got side tracked by some other things, and by the time he came to find Krem, it was a bit later than he had thought he would be when he slipped out of the bed.

When he made it back to the Herald's Rest, Maryden was already singing–Sera was going to break her lute if she sang Sera Never Was again–and the Chargers were in their corner, drinking and talking loudly.

He paused nearby, not sure if he should try and join them.

Cole wasn't really given a chance to linger there long before Krem was there at his side, nudging him with his elbow.

"No room for wallflowers here," he said with a grin, sneaking an arm around Cole's back and drawing him into the fold. Bull was grinning at the two of them, and there were multiple raised eyebrows from the rest of the Chargers.

"I'm not any kind of flower," Cole protested quietly, but he moved into the group and settled in close to Krem. People were looking at him, seeing him, and they didn't need them but they saw anyway. He ducked his head, letting his hat cut him off from view.

Krem ducked under the had as soon as that happened and he lowered his voice. He knew he didn't really have to whisper for Cole to understand, but it felt a little better this way.

"You know they're not judging you, right? They're just curious."

"Why would they judge me?" He didn't worry about judgement. He was just not used to any attention.

He didn't have the words for it, but if he had, he might have simply told Krem he was shy.

Rather than getting into another loop of trying to explain people, Krem just leaned back again, reaching for a tankard and taking a gulp before tentatively offering it, hoping for once that Cole might join in rather than sitting in the middle of the festivity looking lost. He wasn't good at shy people, or personal space (the latter even more so than usual). The rest of the Chargers had noted the change, and mentally they had their chins in their hands as they watched him. He was the youngest among them besides Skinner, and they seemed to feel like he was growing up in front of them.

Cole took the drink, unsure, and then took a tentative sip. It tasted bitter and crawled down the back of his teeth and he coughed, handing it back and pulling a face to a series of well-natured laughs.

He didn't hide at the laughs, just smiled a little. There was nothing nasty in the laughter.

Krem chuckled along with the rest of them, taking the ale back and wrapping his arm a little more securely around Cole's back, rubbing his hand over his arm. He was glad Cole had come, and he didn't have to say anything to show him that.

Later in the evening the Chargers started to talk amongst themselves, telling stories and trading gossip. Krem had leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in front of his chin. He was talking about what he'd been doing before he ran into Bull after deserting Tevinter's army, in the middle of a story about some poor family that had taken him in for a few days after he'd offered to help around their property and fix their clothes.

"Finally had to leave when the father sent off a message to the capitol. Apparently he'd done a little bit of looking into my background. Thought he could bring in a fair amount of gold for turning me in. Joke's on him though, his daughter liked me enough to warn me. We cut holes in every one of the man's socks before I left."

Cole stole Grim's water and drank it to clear the ale form his mouth, but then he just tucked himself in against Krem and stayed there, content to listen

When Krem let go to talk and lean forward, Cole leaned back, tucking his feet up on the edge of the seat and hugging his knees. And he remembered, quite suddenly, when they met Red Jenny. Sera.

"When we met Sera, she broke into the barracks and stole all the breeches. We fought all the guards, and none of them had their pants. Sera laughed to hard she nearly shot herself in the foot."

And then he realised he'd said that out loud, to the group. And went silent again.

The rest of the group fell silent as well at that, before bursting into a roar of laughter, Bull's the loudest of all. Krem grinned and bumped his shoulder against Cole's knee. Good, you're doing well. He knew it wasn't quite meant to be an anecdote, by the sudden way Cole stopped himself talking, but it was still well-received, and it had prompted Rocky to start regaling them all with a tale of drunken strip cards that had ended in half his old group having to run naked from a bandit enclave.

The chatter continued as Krem leaned back again and pulled one leg up onto the edge of his chair, his cheek against his knee as he looked back at Cole.

"Glad you showed up," he murmured.

Cole hadn't meant to tell it, but it had felt right to share it and he liked that he made the others laugh with it. He wasn't sure why, but it didn't matter.

Looking at Krem, Cole smiled slightly and ducked his head, making a very effective little ball of Cole on the chair. "It's nice. I like it."

Krem kind of wanted to hug this little ball of Cole, but he kept it restrained to small touches for the time being, just leaning back with his arm up against Cole's. It was an interesting phenomenon, how much Cole was smiling, even in that little nervous way he did, as if he wasn't quite sure how he was doing it in the first place.

"They're not really paying attention anymore. Is there anything you want to do now?"

Cole wriggled a little closer, pressing shoulder to shoulder with Krem. "I want to make you ache less. If you let me see and touch your chest, I can help speed the healing up. Or, I could help Dalish cast a healing spell."

Healing magic was so rare now. It was too dangerous, with the Rifts, to call on the spirits needed to fuel the powerful healing spells. But he was here.

"Oh but you know Dalish isn't a mage," Krem replied sarcastically, then clarified, "she doesn't do the healing magics, that's why we have Stitches. But I've already had a painkiller. I'll be fine." He reached for one of Cole's hands to give it a gentle little squeeze, then rubbed across his chest. It wasn't as bad as it had been before, but it certainly wasn't completely comfortable yet. That would be some time in coming, and not just in the physical aspect.

"But I meant something just for you. Like...do you want help with anything?"

"... everyone knows Dalish is a mage. Even Dagna knows she's a mage, and Dagna hasn't ever met Dalish."

No healing magic. Which was probably why he had felt no pull from her like he did some mages. Like Rhys.

He wanted to touch, but he didn't know if it was allowed. Krem's chest and his feelings about it didn't quite make sense to Cole. "No. I don't need help. I help people."

"Yes, but Dalish is in denial," Krem explained with a small sigh, leaning a little more heavily into Cole. He was comfortably buzzed, and quite content in that.

Krem's feelings about his chest were complicated, in that the change hadn't quite sunk in yet even though he'd had a couple of weeks to adjust to it by now. He wasn't used to his center of gravity being lower than normal, making his training exercises a little more difficult, at least for the time being. It would all need an adjustment period, but once he figured that out, he would be fine, he knew that.

"You don't need the help that you provide others, no, but there are things that you want, right?"

Cole still reached out and nearly touched him before drawing back and resting his chin on his knee again. "I want people to be kind."

He had good knives. He was sitting with people who felt good to have around. Krem was touching him in that way he liked, where they were more together than most people were.

He couldn't imagine anything more.

Part of him was a little frustrated with Cole's lack of wants, but most of him appreciated it. Simple was good, in his opinion, and if that was really all that Cole wanted, there wasn't much else he could think to do outside of keeping Cole company and making sure he was happy with the way things were going.

Catching the other's fingers, Krem wrapped his own around them, resting their hands atop his knee as it rocked gently from side to side. This was good too.

"Later, when I go back to my quarters. Then you can see," he said quietly, referring to his chest and the hurt that Cole was concerned about.

PSL for killedwithlove

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