Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“She’s here.” Rythian speaks into his empty library, drawing Enderbane from its scabbard and wincing only slightly at the sting in his hand. The simmering feeling of pins and needles settles into his palm, and he ascends through the unfinished tower’s open roof into the moonlit night to face her.

Almost immediately, his attention is drawn away from the dragon’s silhouette - barely visible in the dark save for the eclipsed stars betraying her approach - by the shriek of endermen invading the fortress.

The blade faces little resistance as he decapitates the first and turns, piercing up through the defined ribcage of the second. He follows the motion through, sending the corpse sloughing off the end of the blade and leaving orchid purple blood staining the shimmering metal. If not for the fact he spent his recent days consistently armour-clad, the blood would be soaking his clothes much more thoroughly.

Another shriek from his left sends him marching through the rubble entrance of Blackrock Stronghold, swiftly dispatching another with an indelible proficiency. The beating of heavy wings grows louder, and he once again takes to the air above Blackrock, steeling himself to meet her.

A ball of purple dragonfire is hurled at him, the heat searing through his armour even at a distance. He hastily changes direction mid-air as it careens past. Below, more endermen swarm, and in absence of an opportunity against the dragon, calls down lightning upon them. The thunder echoes and he snaps back to the dragon, weighing Enderbane in his hand. He stands to his full height, and takes a defensive stance in anticipation. She charges him, teeth bared. He dodges, slashing at her hide with a draw cut as she passes, pursuing her down to the crater of what was once Zoey’s farm.

Flurries of fireballs chase her, and as he approaches the ground he is halted by a carpet of dragon’s breath under his feet. Rythian draws back, landing on her far side. He plunges Enderbane into the top of her shoulder with both hands, pulling down on the grip with all his strength to carve through the ligaments. The dragon queen roars as her blood saturates the ground, whipping her head around to bite at him. Teeth and claws clash against metal and armour as the dragon lists, blows are parried and Rythian fights with the single-minded focus she herself had beaten into him.

They are equally matched; Their fight becomes a dance, each of them knowing the other so intimately as to always anticipate their movement. They continue to lunge and parry, to bite and to pierce. Rythian senses the slight trepidation entering her movements as he continues to wear her down with slashes from Enderbane, his agility becoming his greatest asset. Finally, he gets an opening; As she slashes at him with the claws of her uninjured leg, he dodges to his right, ducking under her great arm. Before she gets the chance to turn to him, he’s vaulted back over her arm and plunged Enderbane up to its hilt in her neck.

His fervor overtakes him at the glimmer of a chance to finish her. Rythian throws himself against the pommel, driving the blade ever deeper, but the movement leaves his side exposed. She doesn’t hesitate as she forces her teeth into the gap between plates, biting down with great force into his torso.

He cries out in pain, but keeps his grip on the shortsword. Despite his desire to continue regardless of his injuries, he relents and withdraws Enderbane as his vision dims. In turn, the dragon releases him and struggles to her feet, the beating of her great wings knocking Rythian onto his knees as she departs. His breathing is laboured as he falls forward onto his hands, red and purple blood swirling together in a puddle around the blade still under his palm. He tries to focus, to make sense of the situation, but as he lifts his left hand to check the wound he falls onto his side and loses consciousness.

As much as he drifted in and out of consciousness, he had no energy left to pick himself up. And so Rythian laid in the pool of mixed blood until morning.
____

Zoey followed Teep through the tunnels, ducking to avoid cobwebs and carefully climbing over the various items of debris, not realising they’d made it back to Blackrock until they were in the basement directly under the Stronghold.

“Wow, this place is a mess,” She commented, climbing the ladder into the even more destroyed foyer. “What happened? Where’s Rythian?” She asked, walking out of the hole where the front door used to be and looking around for the mage they’d left behind.

“Rythian?” She called out, walking with Teep out towards the farm. Or, what used to be her farm.

Rythian roused from his dissociated not-quite-slumber at the sound of his name and a familiar voice. In the silence of the fallout, he called back. “Zoey?” He croaked, voice hoarse with his laboured breathing. If not for his life stone and the position he laid in keeping pressure on his wound, he was certain he would be dead.

“Rythian?” Zoey called again, uncertain if she’s actually heard him, climbing over the edge of the small crater to a better vantage when she saw him. “Oh my gosh, Rythian!” She skidded down the side of the crater in her scramble, awkwardly making her way around him to kneel in front of him. The blood had left the ground sticky, coated in the dark, bruise-like residue. “Rythian…” She whimpered, hands hovering over him. “What happened? Are you okay? No, obviously you’re not okay, stupid question. You’re bleeding! Ohhh gosh it’s okay, we’re here, you’re gonna be okay,” She stammered, the ending sounding more like a prayer than a statement.

Rythian stared up at her through heavy eyes, the morning sun rising over the mountains behind her lighting her hair up like it was made of the very sunrise itself and giving her a heavenly halo of light above her head. If he didn’t still feel incredible pain in his side, he’d think her an angel come to take him away. “Zoey…” He whispered irreverently.

Zoey looked up as she heard the scuffle of Teep sliding down the graveled slope of the crater, watching as he silently padded over and knelt behind Rythian. He placed his bow on the ground, and one hand on Rythian’s shoulder to let his friend know he was here.

“We need to know how bad it is, don’t we?” Zoey asked Teep, worry furrowing her brow. Teep nodded, and she sighed. When she looked back down at Rythian and he had his eyes closed, she panicked again.

“Rythian? Rythian! Rythian please open your eyes, please don’t be dead,” She pleaded, resting a hand on his cheek. Begrudgingly, and with a very displeased groan, he opened one eye to look at her. His head was killing him. “Ohhkay good you’re still alive. Can you…move? Actually maybe don’t move. Uh, Teep let’s get him on his back so we can see what the damage is.”

Teep nodded, and together they very carefully rolled Rythian onto his back, provoking another objecting moan of pain. It was at this moment that Rythian came to the realisation he could neither move nor feel either of his legs. Concerning, he thought to himself.

Zoey carefully unbuckled and removed his chestplate, setting it down on the ground beside her while she carefully peeled back his blood-soaked shirt, which had almost plastered itself to his torso. She grimaced at the sight of the deep punctures, clasping a hand over her mouth, both to hide her shock and to stop herself from being sick. Half of his torso looked like a butcher shop floor. “Ohhh god…” She whispered under her breath. She repeated her mantra from before; “It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

Teep glanced between them both, waiting for Zoey’s lead. She took a deep breath, pulled Rythian’s shirt back down, and turned to her dinosaur. “Let’s get him inside so we can clean up and address… this. I don’t suppose you have any medical training, eh, dinosaur?” A shake of the head. “I didn’t think so. Okay. How are we gonna get him inside?”

They both looked around for ideas, equipment. Anything. None of them exactly had much to hand. Realising the situation, they resolved to carry Rythian inside as best they could between them - Teep took most of the weight by looping Rythian’s right arm over his shoulder and getting both arms under his torso, while Zoey carried his legs and cleared the way as best as she could. It was a slow process, but eventually, they got Rythian into the still-mostly-intact kitchen, and laid him down on the countertop.

“Okay, okay,” Zoey said to herself, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get the rest of this armour off, and all the gravel and stuff out of you, and then we’ll… well. I guess you’re gonna need some pretty serious stitches, since your life stone isn’t being very helpful right now.” She started unbuckling more of his armour as she talked, and Teep helped to stack the pieces carefully out of the way to deal with later. He would’ve helped with the buckles, but claws weren’t very good for undoing small buckles. Once all his plate armour had been unbuckled and pulled away, and his gloves, greaves and boots had been added to the pile, Zoey took a deep breath and once again lifted his blood-soaked shirt. “Right,” She started, steeling herself for the prospect of having to sew Rythian up like a broken toy. “Let’s clean some of this blood off you, and then we’ll need to find something to stitch you shut with. I know where my sewing supplies are, I think…” She trailed off, wondering - with the state the castle was in - if they would still be where she’d left them.

“Alcohol,” Rythian groaned, interrupting Zoey’s muddled musings.

“Alcohol? I don’t think now’s really the time to be drinking, Rythian-” She responded, eyebrows knitted.

“Not… to drink,” He grumbled. “To clean the wound.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, okay! Do we- do you have any?”

Rythian took a deep breath of his own. “I think… there’s some rum left. In your barrel,” He said, pausing to let the pain simmer. “I don’t think I finished it.”

Zoey nodded quietly, and looked over to Teep. “Could you get it, Teep? Can a dinosaur pour a drink?” She asked, a tiny hint of a smile creeping into her voice. Teep shrugged, and went to go find out. Zoey firmly told Rythian not to move while she went to go find her sewing supplies.

For a moment, after a short while alone, his delirium almost tricked him into thinking they had just been figments of his blood loss. Still, he clung to the hope of not being alone, just in case this killed him after all. It would be nice not to die alone. Sure enough, Teep returned, and Zoey followed shortly after. Not dying alone.

“Perfect, let’s get you cleaned up!” Zoey said, trying her best to sound cheerful. She left her sewing kit on the table, moving to the sink and filling a bucket with some warm water. It took some searching, but eventually she found a cloth to use, and started the tedious and delicate process of cleaning him up. It was a lengthy task, as she carefully worked around the open wounds, using multiple buckets of water as they became dark with the blood. Once she was happy with her work, she let Teep use the salvaged alcohol to clean the wounds, and Rythian was surprised at his own retained ability not to scream.

“I’ve sewn a bunch of fabric stuff before, so this will be easy, right?” She assured herself. “I’m really sorry, I think this is gonna hurt still.” She dipped her needle and thread into the last of the rum to disinfect it, and carefully started to sew, starting with the narrowest end of the wound. Rythian watched her carefully, and when she was starting to rely on the thread to pull the wounds closed, he put his hand over hers. He silently took the needle from her and continued his own stitches, holding the wounds as shut as he could get them with his other hand. The focus on keeping his stitching even and neat actually helped distract him from the excruciating pain.

Zoey sat back, watching him take over and trying not to be sad about it. Was she doing so bad a job? She’d never seen Rythian sew anything before, so why did he think he would do it better, especially in the state he was in? Either way, he wanted to do them himself, so she wouldn’t interfere. Maybe he was doing something magic with them, or something. Several agonising minutes later, Rythian tied off the thread and dropped the needle, letting it hang from its thread. Zoey gently picked it back up, cutting the thread and setting it down on the counter.
“We should get you cleaned up properly,” She said, standing and looking at him sadly. “You’re still drenched in blood from lying in that puddle.”

Rythian nodded curtly, and when he made no effort to move under his own power (justifiably so), Teep and Zoey once again worked together to move him upstairs and into the bathroom. Once settled into the bathtub, Teep left to go check on his watchtower, and Zoey helped Rythian out of his ruined clothing, hesitating for a moment at his mask.

“Your mask is really soaked in blood.” She said softly, but made no move to remove it.

“It’s fine.”

“We can find you something else to use in the meantime, I’m sure-“

“I said it’s fine, Zoey,” He interrupted, holding her gaze.

She hesitated, and the tension in the air between them in that moment could’ve been cut with a knife. She had so much to ask, so much to say, so much to explain. But now was not the time, Rythian was badly injured and right now that was all that mattered. “Okay,” She relented. “Do you want any help, or…?” She hesitated, and seeing his pause, continued; “I can just move stuff closer or I can help in whatever way you want me to and I promise not to make it weird- or I can just make sure you’re comfy and have everything you want. I could get you some food or a book orrrr I could get some bubble bath for you?” She giggled. “Maybe a bath bomb with glitter in it?”

Rythian sighed a soft chuckle, and looked down at his legs; he still couldn’t move them. “…I’ll be fine for now. Stay close. There could still be endermen around, and I don’t know if Tee will be able to do much against their teleportation.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine! Besides, I didn’t see any endermen about, and I’m totally a kickass rebel now so I’ll definitely be fine.” She assured him with a grin.

“Right, of course you will. Still, just… stay close, please.”

“I’ll sit right outside - not in like a creepy way, in like a guarding way, not that I think you need me to guard you, but in case you need me,” She rambled nervously, and when she noticed the ever so slight crease at the corner of Rythian’s eyes that told on his slight smile, she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m here if you need me,” She finished, quietly leaving the room and softly closing the door behind her.

A surprisingly short amount of time later - either that or she’d zoned out a lot harder than she thought - she heard a certain amount of grunting and water splashing that had her guessing Rythian was trying to move somewhere on his own and struggling. She again hesitated, but knocked anyway. “Rythian? You okay in there?” She called, keeping her tone light despite her concern.

Rythian stopped at the knock, letting himself fall back into the tub from where he’d been trying to pull himself out with mostly just his right arm and struggling. He felt so helpless, so pitiful and undignified. He could summon fire and lightning on a whim, fight dragons and hordes of endermen, but now a bathtub was defeating him. Eventually, he was forced to acknowledge that getting out of this bathtub without tearing stitches was not something he could currently do on his own, given his non-functional legs. With a sigh, he tied his bloodied mask back around his face and called Zoey back into the room. She entered cautiously, deliberately diverting her gaze as long as possible.

Before Zoey figured out how to ask what was wrong, Rythian answered for her.

“I can’t move my legs, Zoey.”

“You- what? Like, at all?”

“At all. I can’t feel them either. It’s like dead weight tied around my waist.”

“Are you- can I-“

“Yes, Zoey, you can look. I have my mask and right now I don’t really care about anything else.”

Zoey turned finally, blush covering her cheeks as she realised he only had his mask. It took her a second to gather her many chaotic trains of thought into anything coherent. “So, you can’t move your legs at all? Nothing?” She reconfirmed.

“Nothing,” He parroted with a nod.

“Ok. Well, your life stone will fix it, right? It just needs time?”

“I- I think so? I don’t know,” He admitted, looking up at her with melancholy. “It’s taken it’s time already.”

“I think it was just keeping you alive. How long were you lying there?” She asked, finally moving to drain the water and fetch Rythian a towel.

“I have no idea. It was late last night.”

“You laid there all night?” She asked with surprise as she handed him the towel she was holding. “I guess it’s lucky we came back to save you when we did!”

“Hah. Yeah, I guess so.”

Once again, Zoey wanted to explain, to assure him they were here now and not leaving, but she didn’t. Instead, she crouched next to the tub and wrapped her arm around his back, ducking under his arm so it rested across her shoulders. “Well, let’s get you warm and dry, and into bed so you can rest,” She said with a smile. “Ready?”

She didn’t wait for him to give a full answer before she started to stand, dragging him upwards and into a position to sit on the edge of the tub. Rythian picked up his own useless legs to swing them over the edge, and then looked back at Zoey. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“I don’t think I can carry you on my own, except maybe if I tried to bridal carry you but-”
“Yeah, no, not happening. Go fetch Tee, make sure he’s alright too, I can wait here.”

“You’re definitely not going to fall into the tub?” She asked jokingly, though the words were laced with a hint of genuine concern.

“I’m not that incapacitated, I can stay sitting just fine,” He responded with a slight eyeroll, waving her off and out the door.

“Okay, okay, just checking,” She smiled. “I’ll be right back!”
True to her word, she soon returned with Teep in tow, and with their now practiced method, got Rythian into the main bedroom and onto the bed without much trouble.
“I’m gonna have to tidy up around here, you’ve really let the place go,” She teased, looking around at the cobwebs, dust, and various pieces of rubble as she dug around in the wardrobe for a change of clothes.

“Yeah, I… I guess I did. But you’re- you’re back.”

“We’re back,” She assured him, putting her hand over his as she sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving the folded pile of clothes on his other side. “And we’re gonna fix this place up a bit, and you’re gonna take a good proper rest, because I don’t imagine you slept last night.”

“Yeah, no, not really. I haven’t been sleeping much at all, really, especially not… here…” He admitted, his voice quieting with every word.

Zoey wanted to ask why, but thought twice of it. “Well, you’ll sleep plenty now!” She chirped, moving to follow Teep out of the room when she glanced back at Rythian and saw him watching them both- no, watching her. “Do you, uh, need anything? Have you eaten? Or no, that’s a silly question cause your life stone feeds you magic juice or whatever-”

“Yeah, it does,” He answered simply, avoiding asking for what he really wanted.

“Well, thinking about it, I better stay nearby since you can’t go anywhere, just so I’ll be here in case you need anything,” Zoey decided, moving the chair from her vanity table over to his side of the bed.

Rythian was glad not to have to ask. Instead he just smiled softly, watching her move the chair and then turn away from him and dramatically cover her eyes so he could get dressed. The process was slow, and yet again he felt the heavy weight of humiliation, but he managed to retain what was left of his dignity. As he pulled the ends of his bloodied scarf free from the back of his shirt, he realised he should probably swap it out at some point, particularly if he was going to sleep. “Uh, Zoey?”

“Yeah?” She perked up, half-turning with still covered eyes.

“You can open your eyes for a second- I don’t particularly want to sleep in this scarf. I have a spare, somewhere, I think-”

“Yeah, no, I don’t want you getting blood and nastiness on my designer bedsheets even if it is mostly dried. Where would your spare be? In the wardrobe?” She asked, getting up.

“Designer-? Doesn’t matter. It’s in my alchemical bag if I recall correctly, which would be with the rest of my stuff, wherever you put it.”

“Oh, okay! I took your stuff down to the kitchen so it’d be with your armour ready to get cleaned, I’ll go find it. There’s not gonna be anything weird in your bag, right?”

“Uh.. no? Depends on your definition of weird, I guess? It’s mostly materials and tools, just useful stuff.”

“Okay, good. I’ll be right back. Again,” She promised, and Rythian laid his head properly back as he listened to her footsteps tapping on the marble stairs softening as she descended. It was still a surreal feeling, to have been so certain less than 12 hours ago that he was going to be alone again for the future, and to have settled so easily back into her presence.
And Teep’s presence.
He wanted to ask where they’d been, where her armour was, what happened after Operation Dino Day; He supposed they’d get to have that long talk after all, even if not right now.

He lifted his head again when he heard her footsteps ascending, loosening the knot in his scarf as she entered the room.

“Found it! There was a bunch of junk on top of it, but I found it,” She teased, handing it to him. “I promise not to peek!” She said as she turned on her heel to face away and once again covered her eyes.

“Ah, well, if you did I would have to kill you,” He joked in his deadpan tone as he quickly exchanged his stained purple scarf for his older black one.

“You couldn’t,” She retorted, waiting for an extra moment after the rustling of fabric stopped to be certain before she turned back to him. She put her hands on her hips. “Even if you wanted to, I’m a super awesome rebel fighter now so I could definitely kick your butt.”

Rythian laughed, not just at Zoey’s antics, but because if only she knew just how wrong she really was. Still, he played along. “No, no, of course not, you’d definitely win.”

Zoey grinned, picking up the scarf and grimacing slightly at just how blood-soaked it really was. “Is your face not, like, super gross under there?”

“No,” He replied matter-of-factly.

“Mmm, I’ll choose to believe you this time.” She said with narrowed eyes. “I’ll go put this downstairs, you-” She pointed at him to further emphasize how serious she was, “go to sleep.”

He smiled at her attempt to be stern. “Yes ma’am,” He agreed, watching her leave before he even considered falling asleep. As much as his head swam with questions and conversation topics, the exhaustion of all the movement quickly caught up with him. At least, he thought, sleeping would give his life stone some time to work properly so he could get the use of his legs back.

Zoey took her time downstairs, filling a large bucket with warm water to soak Rythian’s clothing in, taking extra care with his scarf and deciding maybe it was small enough she could just wash it now. There was probably a reason he always wears this one and not the ‘backup’, she reasoned, and so maybe he would like to have it cleaned first. She filled a smaller bucket with more warm water, adding some soap and taking it outside to sit on the bottom step of the entrance while she worked.
The sun was now risen and shining brightly from behind the stronghold and communicating the extent of the damage to the structure through its shadow. She hummed softly to herself as she washed, appreciating the soft material in her hands; She’d never realised how nice Rythian’s scarf actually was. It made sense, she supposed, since he wore it all day every day.
The process of cleaning the scarf seemed almost unending, requiring multiple buckets of water while she kept finding more spots and stains that needed attention. Eventually, the 4th bucket of water didn’t muddy quite so much or as quickly as the others, and when she rung the fabric out she was rather proud of her work. She held it up to the light to check she hadn’t missed anything, and then, almost instinctively, brought it to her face with a deep breath. The fabric was damp, but soft, and clung to her cheeks as she admired how fresh she’d gotten it. She wondered if it did the same to Rythian - if he tied it deliberately tight or loose, if he felt the fabric brush against his lips with every word he spoke. In a way, having his scarf against her lips was like kissing him indirectly.

Ah.

Her cheeks immediately flushed bright pink, and she shyly put the scarf down, staring at it like she was intimidating it into sworn secrecy. After a brief moment to collect her composure, she stood up and folded the scarf, laying it over her shoulder.

Hoisting the bucket up into her arms, she walked over to and emptied it into the lake, then walked around the side of Blackrock Stronghold to look for somewhere to leave the scarf to dry. It was making her wish they’d stopped to grab at least a couple things on their way out of mushroom prison, because if she had her volcanic amulet this would be much easier. Maybe there was one in Rythian’s alchemical bag, she wondered, but didn’t feel like snooping through his stuff more than she’d already done. She felt like she’d invaded more of his privacy this morning than she ever wanted to.

Part of the fence that used to surround the farm was miraculously still standing at the far end, she realised, and with its position directly in the morning sun she thought it perfect to dry Rythian’s scarf; bonus, it was right next to the mooshroom’s pen, which gave her a great excuse to go and cuddle them before starting on cleaning up anything else. Of course, by the time Rythian’s scarf would have dried, she’d long gotten distracted and forgotten to take it upstairs.

By the time she’d gotten bored of talking to the mooshrooms, washing the blood out of the rest of Rythian’s clothes, removing cobwebs, and clearing up rubble, it was late afternoon. She collected his clothes from the fence she’d laid them over to dry, the day’s sunshine and gentle breeze having dried them quickly, and carried them quietly up to the bedroom. Rythian was fast asleep, lying perfectly still and breathing quietly.

Very quietly.

Zoey frowned, dropping the clothes onto her vanity and moving to his side, watching his chest with scrutiny. To her relief, he was breathing, and wasn’t dead. Still, his shallow breathing and lack of any other signs of life worried her. Maybe it would be best if she stayed here for the rest of the day, just to keep an eye on him. Just in case he wakes up and needs water, or the bathroom, she told herself.

To entertain herself, she picked out the least-boring-looking book from Rythian’s bedside shelf, and spent a couple hours flicking through it and skimming pages of technical magic babble.

Her stomach gurgled loudly. She glanced between her stomach, and sleeping Rythian.

“You’ll be fine for like 10 minutes while I pop out to the mooshrooms to get some soup, right?” She asked him in a whisper. “Yeah. You were fine all day. Don’t die while I’m not here, please. Well, don’t die at all, actually,” She continued, setting the book down on the cabinet and wandering downstairs to search for a bowl.

Thankfully, when she returned, he was still in the same position, still shallowly breathing. For a moment in the doorway she experienced deja vu and panicked only a little bit, but remained calm and once she got back to her chair at his bedside her fears were put to rest. She picked up the book again; even though its contents were going straight over her head, it was something to keep her occupied other than worrying over Rythian.

As the evening wore on, the temperature dropped and she shivered.

“Drafty in here,” She murmured at him.

Right now, she wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and snuggle up beside him. She couldn’t, she told herself, she needed to stay awake and make sure he was still alive. Instead, she got up, and looked around the room for something to occupy her, and a spot of light on the floor drew her attention to the hole in the ceiling. That was something to do, she supposed, though it would involve gathering some supplies. Still, the condenser down in the magic room would definitely be working, so she could just quickly make some new bricks and patch the hole. Wouldn’t take her long, she was a totally awesome designer. (She was an interior designer, but since she was expanding her skillset to also include exteriors now, she decided to just be a designer.)

The patching of the hole in the roof proved slightly more complex without a flying ring, but it still took her a surprisingly short amount of time to finish. Now she was once again without anything to do, and returned to her post next to Rythian. She tried picking up the book again, tried a different book, tried just thinking up her own story. Sitting in such a quiet room, after a busy day, Zoey found herself drifting in and out of sleep. After giving herself a minor panic attack more than once by jolting herself awake when Rythian took fractionally longer between breaths and convincing herself he was dying, she gave in. She needed to sleep.

‘If I sleep on his right side, which I was gonna do anyway, I won’t be near his injured side. And I can keep track of his breathing with a hand on his chest or something. Or I could lay my head on his chest and that way I would be able to hear his heart beating and feel him breathing, which is obviously the better option cause it does more things. And there’s no other reason I want to lay my head on his chest.’ She thought to herself, staring at him and chewing her lip slightly. Yes, she decided, this was a better idea than sitting in a chair next to him, because if she dozed off on the chair she wouldn’t be able to watch him at all, whereas if she dozed in bed she could still make sure he was okay.

Zoey quickly changed into a pair of pyjamas, and very carefully slid into bed next to him. Even if she had convinced herself this was the best way she could take care of him and also get some sleep, she still found her heart racing the closer she shuffled to him. A few deep breaths later, she turned onto her side and gently laid her head down on his chest, making sure she wouldn’t be anywhere near his wounds. A little shuffling to get comfortable, and a hand laid on his stomach, and Zoey was quickly asleep.

Chapter Text

Rythian mumbled a disoriented noise to himself as he only halfway woke up. The room was dark, save for a trickle of moonlight through the skylight and the soft glow of his eyes. Blearily, he took in the red mess of hair strewn across his chest, smiling as she let out a soft, squeaky sort of snore. What a nice dream to have, he thought, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. He hummed wistfully, thinking back on the times where this was their normal; How much he wished to go back to before he drove that wedge between them, to change his reaction, to tell her that he needed her to stay. He wished he could go back further, to where she would never need to hide any part of herself from him. He wished they could’ve stayed happy.

He smiled dopily at his sleeping apprentice (though she was so much more than that). Even if only in a dream, he would savour the small moments of peace like this one. Even if he would never get the chance to do it outside of a dream, he pulled his mask down just enough to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. Especially if he never got the chance to kiss her, he thought, and did it again. As beautiful as this moment was, as much as he wished it to last forever, he knew it wasn’t healthy to cling to this dream, and he took a deep breath, leaving his face buried in her hair as he fell asleep again.

The late morning sun brightly lit the bedroom, and Rythian grumbled in annoyance when he was woken up by the light. He stifled a yawn, which made him realise that the material currently pressed against his face wasn’t his scarf, but hair. Red hair. Zoey’s red hair.

That wasn’t a dream.

His breath caught in his throat as he made a very undignified squeaking noise, hands shaking and uncoordinated and he quickly pulled his face away and tugged his scarf back into place. Rythian stared down at Zoey, asleep on his chest, in disbelief. All thoughts escaped him, and his mouth hung slightly agape with the shock.

And then, as if the universe were conspiring against him and wanted him to feel like he’d just been walked in on whilst mid-shower-concert, singing a terribly out-of-tune rendition of Whitney Houston’s 1992 hit record “And I Will Always Love You”, Zoey stirred awake. And before Rythian could really process anything of what was currently happening, she turned to look up at him with an adoring, dopey smile. He felt like a deer in headlights, like a fish out of water, like another animal in a non-natural habitat.

“Uh, Good morning,” He said, awkwardly, desperately hoping his panic wasn’t audible.

“G’mornin’” She mumbled sleepily, smiling even wider.

His heart skipped a beat. Not only was he alive, but last night hadn’t been a dream. And not only had last night not been a dream, but Zoey was still there, laid over his chest. And not only was Zoey still there, she was staring up at him with those striking blue eyes like he was the only man in the world. He was getting a headache with all the thoughts swimming round his head, and a heavy mix of shame, guilt, and fear settled in his stomach. Zoey could clearly tell something was going on.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” She asked, punctuating it with a yawn and a stretch which lifted her pyjama t-shirt enough to show her midriff, which Rythian definitely didn’t stare at.

“Uh…” He faltered, words failing him. “Um, nothing- it doesn’t matter, anyway. Did you, um, sleep okay?” He tried to steer the conversation away from his thoughts, blinking as he deliberately moved his gaze elsewhere. He hadn’t even made sense of them himself, there was no way he was going to be able to put any of them into words.

“Yeah,” She answered happily, “Our bed is much nicer than the bunks in mushroom prison.”

“Mushroom… prison? Dare I ask?” He stuttered. He already had too damn much to process.

“I’ll explain everything once you’re okay,” She promised, yawning again.

“I’m fine,” He lied. “What happened?” Maybe having something else to focus on would let him stop replaying his ‘dream’ from last night over in his head. He knew Zoey was a lighter sleeper than him - she used to complain when various things woke her up in the middle of the night, and Rythian never knew what she was talking about - what if he’d woken her up and she just hadn’t said anything?

“Oh, uh, you were asleep, and I was starting to drift off while sat on the chair and I wanted to-“

“No, no, not that- You know what, we’ll talk about it later,” Rythian decided.

“Oh. Yeah, we’ll talk about it later.” She agreed, stomach dropping slightly as she worried what exactly it was he meant and what exactly he wanted to talk about. They sat in brief silence, and though it wasn’t as awkward as it could have been, it was plenty awkward. Zoey was the one to break it again.
“How are your legs today?”

“Oh! Uh, still nothing I’m afraid,” He replied, glancing down at them under the covers and trying to move them.

“That’s… worrying,” She said, biting the inside of her cheek ever so slightly. “But you’ll get them back eventually, right? The life stone will fix it?”

“I hope so. It should.”

Zoey nodded. “I hope so too. I’m gonna go find some breakfast. All your books are really boring, by the way,” She remarked as she stood up and ducked behind the divider to change.

“They’re not supposed to be entertaining, they’re research tomes,” He responded with a slight hint of exasperation in his tone, looking over at the book Zoey had left out. “You were reading them?”

“Kinda, I skimmed through that one for a while. It has some nice drawings in it,” She answered, stepping out from behind the divider while tying her hair up in a loose ponytail. Rythian picked up the book to see which one it was, and as soon as he turned it around and saw the blank spine he knew; that was one of his old research notebooks. He didn’t say anything. “Alright, don’t go anywhere, I’m gonna get us both some breakfast, cause while I trust the life stone to keep you alive, I don’t trust it to look after you,” Zoey declared.

“I don’t need ‘looking after’,” He protested. “I’m stitched up, I’m fine.”

“You can’t move your legs.”

“Yeah, okay, but other than that I’m fine.”

“You slept for like 18 hours.”

“And now I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. I’ll bring you some soup,” She said, smiling as she walked away.

Rythian rolled his eyes slightly, but in her absence all he could think about was… well, everything. She’d come back, and settled right back into his life as if she’d never left. The time he spent alone almost felt like someone else’s life now, as if the memories were of something he read in a book rather than had experienced himself. She’d watched over him while he slept, read his research, and fallen asleep on his chest. Just the idea of it made him blush, doubly so when he remembered kissing her head. It felt so… intimate.

The rest of everything loomed like a storm cloud over his thoughts. Yes, she’d come back, but he still didn’t know why she had left. She was here, taking care of him, but that damn lab was still under Blackrock, and they hadn’t talked about any of it. He couldn’t use his legs and didn’t know why, and could barely move without pulling against the 8 sets of stitches holding the side of his torso together; A painful reminder of just how real that time spent alone had been. And the dragon - she’d found him. Endermen were increasing their numbers, and Blackrock Stronghold was not in a position to defend against a full invasion with a compromised structure and Rythian currently bed-bound. He just hoped he’d done enough damage to have her licking her wounds for a long while yet, long enough to redouble his strength and ensure their defenses. He picked up his old research notebook, just starting to flick through it in search of anything useful when Zoey reappeared, carefully carrying a bowl of soup. Her tongue was sticking out of her mouth ever so slightly. Her focused gaze remained locked onto the bowl as she walked it over to Rythian’s bedside cabinet, setting it down exactly where the book had been.

“Here you are! Breakfast in bed,” She said with a smile, sitting in her chair.

“Thanks, I’ll eat in a minute,” Rythian said, smiling briefly before putting his attention back on his notebook.

“Rythian…?” Zoey started, in a leading tone. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, though depending on what it is I can’t promise a good answer,” He replied, not taking his eyes off the book.

“Right.” She hesitated, staring at his shirt like if she focused hard enough she’d be able to see through it to the giant bite-shaped wound. “…What happened? Before we came back, I mean.”

“Ah, that.” He closed the book onto his hand to keep his page, looking up at her. “The Queen of the End. The Enderdragon. She found me, attacked Blackrock. I fought her off as best I could, did a decent amount of damage to her too, but I got greedy. Left myself vulnerable, and she… well,” He finished, gesturing to his injured side.

“Who is she? Why did she attack you? What do you mean “found you”?”

“She’s… someone I have history with. And none of it is good. She’s been trying to track me down for a while now, I just didn’t think she would have found me here so soon.”

Zoey knew when Rythian didn’t want to talk in detail about something. It was that same tone, the same pauses and carefully crafted, evasive language. She just nodded. “Well, with us all back together we can… we can fix up Blackrock, and then we’ll go find this ender-babe and bop ‘er on the head. And we’ll say ‘Don’t come trying to take bites out of my Rythian! Havin’ none of that!’ and then we can all come home and go back to normal.”

Rythian snorted an exasperated breath. “Sure.”

“Awesome, sorted. Now we’ve got a plan for as soon as you get your legs back,” Zoey said with a grin as she stood up and headed for the door. “Don’t let your soup get cold, okay? I am gonna go clean up the kitchen and your armour that’s still in there.”

“I won’t,” He promised. “I just- I want to do something useful. If I could just-“ Rythian continued, pushing himself to sit up and dragging his legs out over the side of the bed.

“Woah, woah! Where do you think you’re going?!” Zoey protested, rushing back to his bedside. “You need to rest!” She held firmly on his shoulders.

“I was reading my old research, and there’s something I need to look into-“ He started to explain, gesturing vaguely towards the library.

“Okay, okay, research- You can research from bed!” She insisted. “You tell me what to get, I’ll go fetch it.”

“Well, I don’t remember which volume the thing I’m thinking of is in, I need to go look at the library,” He insisted, hands still braced on the bed like he could stand up if he tried.

“I will bring the entire library of books in here if I have to, you need rest. You were seriously injured, you have more stitches than I’ve ever seen in one person, and your life stone needs time to work!” Zoey countered.

“My Life Stone will continue to work regardless of what room I’m in - just help me get to my desk, I’ll be fine-”

“Nuh uh, you are staying here,” Zoey insisted, hands firm on his shoulders. “I’m not helping you go anywhere until your legs at the very minimum have feeling in them again.”

“That could take days, Zoey- I can’t sit here and do nothing for days!”

“Exactly, it could take days! You moving around and pulling on your stitches isn’t gonna help it go any faster!”

“I can’t leave Blackrock undefended.” Rythian stated in a much softer, more defeated tone. “What if she comes back?”

“We will deal with it when it happens, if it happens. Please, just rest, at least for today. I’ll get whatever books you need,” Zoey promised, hands sliding down from the top of his shoulders to squeeze his arms.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, finally giving in. “Okay, okay. Fine. Uh, the set of books I’m thinking of- they’re on the wall opposite the door, I think the… 6th shelf up? There’s a set of 5 green, leather-bound tomes. Could you bring them?”

“Yes, I most absolutely can,” Zoey replied with a bright smile that made Rythian’s heart flutter when he saw it. Or maybe he was having heart palpitations. Zoey made sure he was remaining firmly seated before she hurried into the library to search for his requested books, and Rythian sighed as he laid back down. Being stuck here was going to be torture like he’d never been trained to endure. Just as he was about to get lost in thought, his attention was grabbed by a faint yelp from the direction of the library, followed by the thudding and chittering thwips of falling books.

“Zoey?” He called, concern evident in his tone.

“I’m okay!” Came the muffled reply.

“What did you do?!” He asked, concern turning to exasperation.

“Just knocked a couple books over! It’s fine!” She promised, and somehow Rythian did not feel very reassured. She appeared only a few minutes later carrying the books he’d asked for, setting them on the bedside cabinet with a soft oof!
“I’m just gonna go pick those up,” She said sheepishly, quickly disappearing again. Rythian shook his head, picking up the first volume to start looking though it. What he was looking for turned out to be in the 5th volume, of course; the chapters on the theory of interdimensional warding magicks and their augmentations.

Zoey must’ve gotten distracted by something else, because she didn’t show back up again for a few hours. By the time she did come back to check on Rythian, the soup she’d brought up earlier was untouched and stone cold on the bedside cabinet. Books and papers were strewn across the entire bed while he rifled through them all, scribbling notes down here and there, barely noticing her come in.

“I told you not to let your soup go cold!” She protested with an exaggerated pout. “Did you even eat any of it?”

“I wasn’t hungry, besides, my Life Stone-“

“Is it ‘cause it’s mushroom soup? Do I have to go find some meat somewhere for you to eat anything?” She interrupted, incredulous.

“No- well, maybe, I don’t know. I got busy,” He finally answered, sitting back against the pillows and looking up at her for the first time since she walked in.

“I can see! What are you working on?” Zoey asked, tone softer as she walked around to the foot of her side of the bed, perching on the edge and leaning over to see if she could decipher anything.

“I’m researching for a new theory- I have an idea about using wards and the otherwhere thread of arcana to weave an interdimensional barrier,” He explained, the words going over Zoey’s head. She nodded along anyway.

“Right. Is that… helpful?”

“Well, yes, it would be. If it works, which I can’t test from here,” He answered with a sigh.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, we’ll get you fixed up and then you can get back to doing all the magic gubbins you want. Any difference in your legs yet?” She asked cautiously.

“Maybe a little? I think I’m starting to get a little bit of feeling back, but still no movement.” Rythian sighed, poking the end of his pen into his numb leg.

“Well that’s something! The life stone must be working, just… slowly.”

“Yeah. From what I know of how the Life Stone works, it prioritises vitals first - blood, heart, lungs, brain - and then it starts working through other organs before it’ll ever heal surface wounds.”

“Oh. So, it’s still just fixing you inside?”

“Apparently so,” He admitted, half shrugging.

“Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m here to be your legs in the meantime!”

He couldn't help a soft chuckle at that. “Thanks, Zoey. I just hope whatever it’s fixing is what gets my legs back to working order.”

Zoey nodded. “It kinda doesn’t matter, right? It’ll take however long it takes.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Rythian admitted with a sigh. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to at least move them at all.”

“Maybe,” She agreed. “Until then, I will stay close by and get you whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

They stayed together the rest of the day. Rythian cleared up his papers and research, and Zoey sat beside him on the bed while they talked the hours away with superficial conversation. It was obvious the topics they both avoided, but neither particularly felt like pushing to have a difficult conversation under the circumstances. Zoey briefly disappeared to fetch them both something to eat, and under her watchful gaze Rythian finally gave in to eating real food. Almost immediately after, a wave of fatigue washed over him and he stifled a yawn. He expected Zoey to make a joke about him showing his age, but instead she just quietly cleared the bed and got him to lay down and get comfortable.

“A nap might do you some good,” She told him quietly, running a hand through his hair.

He didn’t fight to stay awake then, thinking on how long he’d slept yesterday and that he might need the rest.

By the time Zoey came back to head to bed herself, Rythian was once again sound asleep. With only slightly less hesitation than last night, she settled into the same position with her head on his chest and hand tentatively laid over his heart.

Two more days went by in the same fashion. Rythian was getting increasingly agitated and restless, and Zoey could see it all too plainly. When he sat up that morning and dragged his legs over the side of the bed, she didn’t stop him.

He stayed there, staring down at his legs, at the floor, for a long moment. Zoey walked around to him, watching him carefully.

“You’re ready to stand, aren’t you?” She asked softly.

“I’ve been ready. It’s just if my legs will hold me or not.”

“Well, you have a good bit of the feeling back, right? So that’s a good sign.”

“I do. I don’t know how good the sign really is, though,” He admitted, finally looking up at her.

She silently held her hands out. He took them, started to try and drag himself to his feet and they both faltered - they adjusted their grip on each other, holding onto their forearms as they tried to get him onto his feet. Rythian felt pathetic.

He grumbled his frustration and tried again, forcing himself upwards with all the momentum he could muster, making it up to his full height for the first time since the attack. It only lasted a moment, as both his legs and Zoey’s arms failed to hold his weight. He fell forward, catching himself on his hands and knees at the last second, staring at the ground while he fought back the water gathering in his eyes. The longer he stared at his hands against the ground, the more he could see the swirls of red and purple pooling blood…

Zoey gasped as he fell, taking a half-step back and watching him carefully. “C’mon, Rythian, you can get up. You’re stronger than this.” She said, trying her best to be encouraging.

In an instant, he was a child again.

Small, bruised hands pressed against the uneven, yellowed stone of The End, the clawed feet of The Queen in front of him.

“You’re stronger than this, Rythian. Get up.”

He was crying. He wasn’t stronger than this. He was barely 13, he’d already been fighting for hours, his arms ached and his legs burned with exhaustion. His magic was drained, his body bruised, and he was utterly helpless.

“Get up!” She spits, embers of dragon’s breath hot and searing against his back.

He doesn’t move. He can’t move.

“Get up!” She screams, and he has no energy to react to the claws which careen towards his chest. He’s kicked hard, the little wind still in him knocked out, sending him flipping over to smack his back and head against the stones.

“Rythian?” The Queen’s voice is different. Lilted, lighter, almost caring.

“Rythian?” She asks again, and the hiss that underpins her every word is gone.

“Rythian?”

He looks up from the floor which is peppered with the tiny puddles of his tears. His shoulders are shaking, his breathing laboured, and he’s confused; what happened? Where was he?

Zoey fell to her knees as soon as she saw him start shaking, silently panicking when she noticed his tears, calling out his name to no reaction. Finally he looks at her, and for the first time, she sees genuine, soul-entrenched fear in his eyes. Guilt weighs heavy on her as she offers her hands to him.

Rythian stares at Zoey as his heartbeat gradually ceases to deafen him. He takes one of her outstretched hands, and she pulls him close, leaning him against herself while she wraps her arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered. “Whatever it was- whatever I did, I’m sorry-“

“Zoey,” He interrupts, holding her tighter than he ever had. “Zoey.” He says her name like it’s the only word he knows. She’s quiet, waiting for him to take the lead. He takes a deep, shaky breath before he speaks. “Please- Please never say those words again.”

“Of course I won’t, I’m so sorry,” She responds immediately, cutting herself off before she rambles too much. “I’m so sorry.”

They stay like that for a long time; They lean against each other on the cold marble floor until Rythian moves to sit back.

“Let’s get you back on the bed,” Zoey says, wrapping her arms under his shoulders and helping as best she could to pull him back onto his feet and then back onto the bed. It was a struggle, for sure, but they managed. Or, she thought they’d managed, until she saw blood soaking through Rythian’s shirt.
“Oh gosh, you’re bleeding,” She said softly, looking at him for permission before lifting his shirt to check the damage. With all the strain, they’d managed to tear out a good few of Rythian’s stitches. “Some of your stitches have torn, we’ll have to redo them. I’ll go get some supplies, you wait there.”

She left quietly, regathering the supplies they had originally used to stitch him up. When she came back, Rythian was sat on the edge of the bed silently staring off into empty space. She’d never seen him look so fragile.

“I’m back,” She called softly, walking back around and kneeling on the ground in front of him. “Do you want to do them yourself again?”

The question seemed to snap him out of his stupor, though he took a moment to process what he’d been asked. “Uh, I can- I’ll teach you,” He answered. “How to do it properly, I mean.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise you actually, like, knew how to do stitches,” She said, surprised.

“Of course I do. Or- I guess there’s no reason you would know I know that. Anyway, I do, I have basic medical knowledge, mostly in terms of combat medicine.”

She nodded along. “Ok Mr. Combat Medic, what was I doing wrong before?”

“Your stitching was fairly good actually, but you were sewing like you would with fabric - letting the thread take the strain, using it to pull the pieces together. When you stitch up a person that way you’re gonna risk pulling them straight out again and doing more damage,” He explained, seeming much more like he was coming back to himself. “You should use your hands to hold the wound closed while you stitch, and keep the stitches even and neat.”

Zoey nodded along, listening intently as she prepared her supplies. “Ok! I can do that. But everything else I did was right?”

“I think so. Keep knots on the outside, stitches perpendicular to the wound, keep everything as smooth and close to its proper place as possible.”

She nodded again. “Awesome. I am gonna be such an awesome nurse.” She grinned at him, and was very pleased when she saw the slight crease of his eyes which meant he returned the smile. With a little encouragement and a couple more pointers on technique, Zoey carefully re-stitched his wounds, and Rythian laid back onto the bed after. She hummed absent-mindedly as she cleared up the supplies again, leaving them together on her vanity table to put away later.
“Do you want to try again? Maybe we can get you something you can lean onto properly.”

“What would I lean on?” He asked, watching her.

“Hmmm, we need something that’s steady and tall enough… My chair might work, if we turn it backwards?”

“Isn’t it just gonna tip over?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll sit on it to keep it weighted!” She decided cheerfully, already turning her chair around and sitting on it backwards. “And I’m right here for support. The chair is nice and close to the bed, so if you fall, you can fall back onto the bed.”

Rythian hummed curiously, sitting up again. He tested the chair’s stability with one arm, pulling down on it with some force. When it made no sign of moving, he nodded. “Alright. Let’s try.” He picked up and swung his legs around again and gripped the back of the chair with both hands. He took a deep breath, looked at Zoey’s encouraging smile, and heaved himself up to his feet.

“Yes! You’re up!” Zoey cheered, beaming at him.

“I’m up,” He grunted, shifting his weight. “I’m holding most of my weight through my hands, though. My legs aren’t strong enough yet,” He explained, letting himself fall back to sitting on the edge of the bed a little breathless.

“That’s okay, just getting upright at all is amazing progress,” She assured him, moving her chair back to its normal position. She resisted the urge to kiss him at that moment. “Are you okay? Quite a lot happened just now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” He muttered, wiping the residual tears from his cheeks.

“Do you… Do you wanna talk about it?” She offered gently.

He stayed silent for a long time. “We have more important things to talk about first, and those will wait. We’ll talk about it eventually.” He promised.

Zoey nodded. “Yeah. We have… lots to talk about.”

The longer Rythian thought about it, the more he wanted to talk about at least some of those things. Pretending they hadn’t happened wasn’t helping, and if he was going to be bedridden for the next few days anyway, they might as well start.

“Come sit with me,” He said, moving to sit back against the pillows. Zoey happily obliged, mirroring his pose on her side of the bed. “…Why did you leave?” He asked, not making eye contact.

Zoey slumped. “I…” She paused, trying to collect her thoughts, picking at her nails while she did so. “I was scared.”

“Of me?” Rythian ventured, quiet and hurt.

“No, no, I’m not scared of you- Well, I mean, maybe a little bit, but that’s just cause I know how powerful you are, so I think it’s only sensible to be a little bit scared. Not that I think you would ever hurt me! I know you wouldn’t. I was just… I wanted to do science. I want to learn science. And you’re so against it, I thought for sure that you would stop me-“

“I just don’t want you to do anything dangerous-“

“Well, magic can be dangerous too! Like your armour that blows stuff up and rings that summon fire and lightning or whatever. Those are dangerous too.”

“They are, yes, but it’s about control and predictability, I have full control over my magic-“ He stopped himself, sighed. “Listen, I don’t want you to be unhappy. You can do science, Zoey, I don’t care. What I cared about was you hiding it from me, I care about you not getting hurt.”

“Like you don’t hide stuff from me.”

“Well now, that’s different-“

“Is it? Is it different?” Zoey asked sternly. “You hide stuff from me that you don’t want me to know about, I hid the science from you because I didn’t want you to know about it and stop me.”

“Zoey, the things I hide from you I do for good reason,” He tried to explain.

“How can I know how good the reason is when you don’t even tell me why you hide stuff? Sometimes I think we barely know each other.”

A heavy silence followed. Rythian turned her words over in his head.

“Okay.” He finally said.

“Okay..?” Zoey parroted, looking at him.

“Okay, I’ll tell you.”

Zoey’s mouth hung open slightly. “No, wait, I- I don’t mean to- Rythian, you don’t have to tell me, that wasn’t the point-“

“I know. I know I don’t have to tell you. But I hate this. I hate this secrecy between us, it’s a breeding ground for betrayal and upset. If we’re going to do this together, we have to trust each other.”

Zoey nodded quietly. “I do trust you.”

Rythian’s heart felt like it was about to break its way through his ribcage. He took a deep breath. “I trust you too.” He paused, every detail of his life Zoey didn’t know swarming his head. Most of it was stuff she wouldn’t even know she didn’t know. Best to start on something small, something he could give away just enough information about to satisfy her for now. He needed to start with something obvious - his face. For a moment, he debated on if he should just rip the whole bandage off and take off his scarf; Definitely not. He wasn’t ready to face that yet. He hadn’t looked at his own face in probably years by now, he most definitely wasn’t ready for Zoey to see it. Especially since if she did, when she did, he was going to have to be ready to answer questions about it, and that was not something he was prepared for right now.

Another deep breath.

“I hide my face because it is a constant reminder of my past.”

She waited, listening patiently.

“…It’s not pretty. I went through… a lot. None of it good. I don’t know how much of it I’m ready to talk about yet, if any of it, and I don’t know when I will be.”

Zoey shuffled closer, and carefully hugged him around his shoulders. “Thank you. You don’t have to tell me what you don’t want to. I’m sorry I made a secret lab under our castle and then left with our dinosaur.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to leave.”

“It’s okay. Besides, it wasn’t all bad! I started a kickass band in mushroom prison.”

“Yeah, I meant to ask- mushroom prison? Do I want to know?” Rythian asked, amused.

“Oh, Tee pretended to be working with Jeff and put me in mushroom prison, and I thought he was going rogue and joining them, but it turns out- Or actually, I need to start at the beginning-“
Zoey proceeded to explain everything that happened since she left with Teep - though she pointedly left out the bit about going to see Lalna and the fact she saw the forcefield.
“So that brings us back to Teep putting me in mushroom prison, and then I started an awesome band called The Jailhouse 5, and then Teep and Gilbert and Johnny Iron broke me out and brought me home.”

“Sounds like a real adventure.”

“It was. I kinda wish you’d been there, though you wouldn’t have liked it probably since the brown mushrooms are way more science focused. Like I said, Jeff wanted me to build him a supercomputer.”

Rythian sat and just looked at her for a moment. Taking in the fact that even when she was choosing to leave him, she wanted him there. Taking in the fact that she’d come back, and saved his life. Taking in Zoey.

She looked bemused at his silence, tilting her head at him questioningly. “What is it? Have I got something on my face?”

“No, no- I was just…” He sighed contently. “I’m glad you came back.”

Zoey smiled. “Of course I came back. I couldn’t just leave you forever.” With ever the ceremonious timing, her stomach growled. “I’ll fetch us some lunch.”