Remi answered the first question for him, for which Jigano was grateful, even though the alchemist looked like hell. He’d never seen the younger man so badly off, and for a moment his eyes narrowed as he sought out hands that were half-hidden, tucked against Remi’s chest as they were. He was looking for tell-tale tremors, but seeing none he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, glancing back to Loren at the mention of Phoebe.
Again Remi had an answer, and this time Jigano did raise a brow, nodding slowly. ”My blood has been… changing,” he admitted with a glance to Loren and a faint frown of unhappiness at stating it so baldly. ”So I thought that perhaps it might serve as a vehicle for infection as well. But Remi and Ronin would know better than anyone what the limits are.” He had been paranoid about keeping Rory away from his own blood when he’d hurt himself, the fear of infecting his mate enough to cut through even the blight rage… at least, until recently. It was getting harder and harder to care about such things now, and the rages were getting stronger.
Remi, meanwhile, was growing visibly weaker, and the bard felt a twinge of half-remembered concern for the younger man. ”You underestimate yourself, as always.” The words were tired, nearly rote by now, and accompanied by the shadow of a smile for how instinctive they were. He hadn’t even needed to think them all the way through before he had spoken. ”But even so, we couldn’t expect you to create charms for the whole settlement.” Much less the Fae beyond, whose harm bore the brunt of the biological attack. He fell silent at the defeated tone, unused to it coming from Remi’s throat, and a brow tried to arch even through his exhaustion. ”What went wrong with the first tries at making them?” It was clear that Remi was as tired as he was; perhaps he had missed something in his exhaustion, or given up too soon?
Loren, meanwhile, had been hard at work, and Jigano pushed away from the rock to totter over and peer down at the transplanted flower. He nodded, giving the other man a wry almost-smile, and then stepped back to let the summoner do his work. The luxere appeared with gratifying speed and solidity, and Isuma chirruped excitedly, abandoning her companion to go perch on the summoned deer’s antlers as she helpfully examined it from above. Jigano forced himself to focus and study it closely, watching it move and bending down to check the details on its hooves before rising to touch an antler with his bare skin. Feeling no repulsion or pain, he turned with a wan but genuine smile for the summoner. ”It looks perfect, so that’s another hypothesis of mine that’s fallen through.” And he was glad to be proven wrong, reassured now that he’d be able to sing to the glowing deer again come Deepfrost.
He stepped back as Loren dismissed the creature, turning to see what Remi was up to as Isuma flapped up from her disappearing perch. He saw the alchemist crouched over one of the pots, saw the blackness receding and for a moment hope bloomed even through his own blight-muted emotions—
”Remi!” He found that he could still care, crossing the space in a bound and dropping to kneel beside the stunned alchemist as Isuma dropped to the ground beside the newly-blackened plant, fur and feathers bristled up and hissing furiously at it. The bard placed a shaking hand to Remi’s shoulder, lightly pressing him down in case the younger man should try to rise as he waited for Loren to arrive. ”What happened? Are you hurt?”
Again Remi had an answer, and this time Jigano did raise a brow, nodding slowly. ”My blood has been… changing,” he admitted with a glance to Loren and a faint frown of unhappiness at stating it so baldly. ”So I thought that perhaps it might serve as a vehicle for infection as well. But Remi and Ronin would know better than anyone what the limits are.” He had been paranoid about keeping Rory away from his own blood when he’d hurt himself, the fear of infecting his mate enough to cut through even the blight rage… at least, until recently. It was getting harder and harder to care about such things now, and the rages were getting stronger.
Remi, meanwhile, was growing visibly weaker, and the bard felt a twinge of half-remembered concern for the younger man. ”You underestimate yourself, as always.” The words were tired, nearly rote by now, and accompanied by the shadow of a smile for how instinctive they were. He hadn’t even needed to think them all the way through before he had spoken. ”But even so, we couldn’t expect you to create charms for the whole settlement.” Much less the Fae beyond, whose harm bore the brunt of the biological attack. He fell silent at the defeated tone, unused to it coming from Remi’s throat, and a brow tried to arch even through his exhaustion. ”What went wrong with the first tries at making them?” It was clear that Remi was as tired as he was; perhaps he had missed something in his exhaustion, or given up too soon?
Loren, meanwhile, had been hard at work, and Jigano pushed away from the rock to totter over and peer down at the transplanted flower. He nodded, giving the other man a wry almost-smile, and then stepped back to let the summoner do his work. The luxere appeared with gratifying speed and solidity, and Isuma chirruped excitedly, abandoning her companion to go perch on the summoned deer’s antlers as she helpfully examined it from above. Jigano forced himself to focus and study it closely, watching it move and bending down to check the details on its hooves before rising to touch an antler with his bare skin. Feeling no repulsion or pain, he turned with a wan but genuine smile for the summoner. ”It looks perfect, so that’s another hypothesis of mine that’s fallen through.” And he was glad to be proven wrong, reassured now that he’d be able to sing to the glowing deer again come Deepfrost.
He stepped back as Loren dismissed the creature, turning to see what Remi was up to as Isuma flapped up from her disappearing perch. He saw the alchemist crouched over one of the pots, saw the blackness receding and for a moment hope bloomed even through his own blight-muted emotions—
”Remi!” He found that he could still care, crossing the space in a bound and dropping to kneel beside the stunned alchemist as Isuma dropped to the ground beside the newly-blackened plant, fur and feathers bristled up and hissing furiously at it. The bard placed a shaking hand to Remi’s shoulder, lightly pressing him down in case the younger man should try to rise as he waited for Loren to arrive. ”What happened? Are you hurt?”
