shattered - for makingmyway

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[Orym can barely think straight. His mind is an utter mess, caught somewhere between rage and guilt and relief and then more guilt for that feeling. They've lost so much already in all of this, in chasing Predathos' threats. Fuck, he'd lost so much before he even knew what Predathos was.

That moment when they'd discovered sending spells were working once again, and he'd immediately tried to reach Dorian only to be met with silence, it had torn at something in him. The fear of what could have happened, of why the genasi wouldn't have answered him. He knew Dorian would have if he'd been able, so something must be wrong. Something had to be wrong. And it was. Gods he should have known better. He should have known better and done something, to keep the other man better protected.

But he couldn't protect him. He couldn't protect any of them. The latest loss was fresh and bitter and raw, and the halfling was ready to come apart from how completely he had failed. What was the point of him, what was the good of him, if he couldn't even keep the people he loved safe?

His come apart had to be postponed when they learned that Dorian had been captured though, because there was nothing else he could think about except the fact that they had to save the bard. He was already a shattered thing, and Orym didn't think he'd survive losing Dorian too. The genasi had been the only bright point left in his univeirse in many ways, and if he lost him without ever even telling him how much he meant to him. Well.

No, he couldn't live with himself.

He couldn't live.

The rescue had been, well, a bit desperate. The halfling had fought without hesitation or thought, a frenzy that left him blood-stained and only half aware of what he was even doing. But they'd gotten Dorian back. Alive.

He's been repeating that to himself over and over in his mind, and only that. Dorian is alive. Dorian is here.

They've retreated from Ruidus, taken shelter somewhere that, for the moment at least, seems safe. Everyone is their own brand of mess, and they're all barely hanging on. But they are hanging on.

Orym has been left with Dorian, to keep watch over the bard. The halfling hasn't spoken since the battle, and blood still stains his face and hands and clothes, and he doesn't seem to notice.]