“We should take you to see a doctor,” Adrissu said, unable to look away from Kian’s shivering frame, as he closed the trap door behind them.
“What? No,” he protested, shaking his head. “I don’t want to see a doctor.”
“Kian,” Adrissu said, but Kian shot him a glare that told him that there would be no convincing the human otherwise. “Let me at least see if healing does anything for you.”
Healing magic was still far from his specialty. But after Volkmar, the loathing and regret had turned bitter and boiling inside of him, so he studied the basics in the hopes of never feeling so helpless in such a situation again. But already he doubted that the simple healing spells he knew would do anything for Kian, rendering him just as useless as before.
“Fine,” Kian relented, then eyed the stairs miserably. “I just want to lie down here, though.”
“I can bring down everything I need,” Adrissu said, already rounding on the stairs. Vesper perched at the top of the staircase, looking down at them with palpable worry.
Hurt?she thought, and he nodded.
“Stay with him,” he breathed, and she slithered down the steps. “Try not to touch him.”
He gathered up the dried herbs he needed in his study; when he arrived back down in the sitting room, Kian was lying on the chaise lounge with Vesper coiled on the floor beside him, her head propped up on the edge of the lounge so he could lightly stroke her broad snout with his fingers.
“Give me your hand,” Adrissu said, kneeling down beside Vesper and spreading the various herbs he’d gathered onto the floor. Kian placed his hand in Adrissu’s; whatever was happening did not seem to affect his extremities, at least, for which Adrissu was thankful. His magic reached out tentatively, probing for any hidden wound or internal trauma that might be causing Kian’s pain. But nothing felt out of the ordinary, at least not that Adrissu could tell—he was, of course, feeling acutely aware of how little he truly knew of healing magic now. Why had he only ever learned the basics? All the things he could do with his endless time, and he hadn’t spent a few years studying under a master healer?
“I canfeelyou stewing,” Kian muttered, peering at Adrissu. “If you’re going to sayI told you so,just say it and get it over with.”
“That is not what I was thinking,” Adrissu replied, his voice coming out clipped. Kian scoffed, his grip tightening around Adrissu’s palm.
“Then what are you thinking?”
“That I hate myself for not studying healing more,” he snapped. “That for all the centuries I’ve spent studying magic, it’s entirely worthless if I can’t do anything to help you. That in my selfish need to keep you with me, I’ve sentenced you to suffer over and over again.”
Kian blinked, eyes wide—whatever he had expected, this certainly had not been it. Then his expression crumpled, his green eyes becoming glassy, and he looked away.
“Don’t say that,” he croaked. “I don’t—it isn’t selfish.”
“Of course it is,” Adrissu sighed, mechanically pulling one hand away to gather up a different bundle of herbs. Maybe if he tried healing him directly, even without being able to sense a wound... “You only agreed to soul-binding because you were facing death, and you were frightened. As any mortal would be. Until that point, you were happy to have your one human lifetime and hated when I asked you for more.”
Kian was silent for a long moment, unmoving as Adrissu squeezed his hand and sent a surge of healing magic through him, pressing so it spread through every inch of his body. It didn’t seem to have an effect, though Kian’s face seemed a little less pallid.
“It isn’t selfish,” Kian said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because then I wouldn’t be here. And I like being alive. Here, with you.”
Adrissu paused, taking in a long breath. Guilt wracked him now that he’d said it aloud, and already he wished he could take it back.
“And you know, it was, what, two hundred years ago? Three hundred?” Kian continued, undeterred despite Adrissu’s silence. “So maybe it was selfish of you then. But it’s not like you can change the past. And maybe you’re not selfish now.”
Adrissu squeezed his hand again before bringing it to his lips, pressing kisses on his fingers. He did not know how true any of what Kian said was, but it at least made him feel a little better. They would give it some time. Kian would get better, and Adrissu would feel less stressed. It would all become a distant memory, like so much else.
“Maybe,” he agreed. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Kian grunted, pulling his hand out of his grasp only to ruffle Adrissu’s hair, making him huff with an irritated laugh. “Well, I hate to say it, but I don’t think your healing did much. Do you have any painkillers I could take here? Something strong?”
It took a moment for Adrissu to go through his mental inventory of all the various ingredients and alchemical items stashed away throughout the tower.
“Some willow tincture,” he finally said, shaking his head. “It’s not much, but it might take the edge off for now. Try to eat something, and I’ll see if I can find anything stronger for you.”
Kian smiled over at him, but his expression was one of utter exhaustion, betraying how much pain he must have been in.
“Okay,” he murmured, nodding once. “Thank you.”
Of all the things Adrissu bought from the doctor’s office, only an extract of pavera root proved strong enough to dull Kian’s pain enough for him to function. The downside, however, was that the medicine only gave him about an hour where he was pain-free and still alert enough to do anything; after that, he became drowsy and slow, often sleeping for several more hours until the painkiller faded from his system, and he would wake in pain all over again.
It was a miserable cycle, but the alternative was intolerable. Any kind of physical contact with his chest or abdomen was enough to make Kian yelp in pain, even if it was only a light touch to the skin. His genitals were the same; Kian had been eager to use them, and in one of his good hours after taking the pavera root extract, they had been intimate. But when Kian woke up later that afternoon, he was weeping with pain until his second dose kicked in, and Adrissu thought he might die of guilt. After that, it was an unspoken agreement that such activities were off-limits until they could find a solution.
