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The eerie silence that fills the camp is sickening. There's no joy that is short lived. There is nothing but red eyes staring at all the subordinates before the fae slips away without another word. With the absence of their general, live chatter began quiet at the very least. One frown deepens.
“Can you believe that's our general? So unlike Lord Raverne.” One of the soldiers adds. “Wonder why Raverne chose him. What do you think of him, Baul? He could've chosen you instead.”
The crocodile fae turned to them, removing his mask. His eyes land on them, displaying his disappointment, a growl escapes him. “Obviously because Lord Raverne saw potential in Udaishi-dono. What else could there be?”
“Don't you.. think he could be more lively?”
Baul turns his head toward the farthest tent where he's sure Lilia is doing his best to ignore them, surely. Baul turns back to them, brow knitted. “Do you honestly think someone who lost everything has anything to be lively about? He lost everything.”
“You don't see us being jerks, and we lost things.” Another grumbled as some others agree, clearly missing the point. “Try not knowing where you come from, no family, no history or anyone to really go back to.” Baul shot back. “You guys at least know where you come from, have families or had them.”
“What about the castle? He lives there!”
“If you lived the same way that he did you wouldn't even know where you would rather be! So shut your mouths!” He scoffed.
“Geez…”
Baul grabbed his things before he headed toward his tent. Getting closer to his tent, he looks at the river being lit up by the moonlight. Yet his eyes land on Lilia. Their General, their commander. Just…
Just a young fae still.
He's reminded of how careless he is with his body and now Baul wonders if Lilia doesn't understand the harm he's doing to himself or maybe he does. He watches how he dips his toes into the river, his shoes are next to him. His mask is held by one of them. Gloves are removed and his hair is loose.
Baul sets his things in his tent before he joins him. They don't say a word. Instead they bask in the moonlight. Baul considers what to say. But instead, Lilia’s head rests on Baul's shoulder. He recalls a conversation with Lord Raverne while Lilia spoke to the future Queen, Princess Malleanor.
“I think Lilia has found himself to trust you. I assigned you as his strategist to help him but I didn't imagine he'll seem more comfortable around you.”
“Thank you.” It's quiet, had he not been a Fae of great hearing, he may have missed Lilia's thankful message.
“Do not mention it.” Baul tells him, both falling into a silent comfort.
Ashen dust fills the air. The cold weather only makes Lilia’s breath seem hurried, scattered even. Only a handful of soldiers follow him. They struggle to keep up even with the snow that slows them down. It still slows him down slightly yet he's faster. They trace around the path in which they were separated.
“Baul!” Lilia yells for him. His heart is on override. The general was known for his speed, one that was faster than light. His footing gets interrupted as he trips into snow, rolling softly to a stop. He doesn't care about the snow on his hair or how the snow kisses his heated skin leaving his nose and cheeks a gray tone from the cold contact as blood accumulated in the spots. He traces back to what initially tripped him. His breath is held.
The other two catch up to him. His hands pull out the crocodile mask Baul wore to hide his face. And suddenly Lilia's knees gave out. The snow is a nice cushion, as it kisses him in such a cruel way. His eyes just stare at the mask.
It's too soon to signal him as gone. Lilia inspects it more and notices the back of it is torn up. At most, Baul must've fled the area as the mask fell. He hasn't lost his scent nor his trail of magic.
“Right Hand General!” The young general raised his head, watching the two soldiers stand in front of the lake. Lilia walks over, confused as to why they called him closer. His eyes scan the frozen lake. At first not noticing the eyes that stare back at him before staring at them.
“...Baul?” The mask drops from his hands. He drops to his knees as he touches the frozen lake looking for a weak spot. He starts banging on the ice with his bare hands. He ignores the head shakes from Baul. Ignores how useless the other two soldiers are. How his hands feel like he's shattering the bones and reconstructing it. How the blood begins to spread. It taints the ice and the snow near him.
He barks orders for them to help him. He grabs one of his daggers and begins to stab at the ice, chipping it away. Desperation hits him.
“He lost everything.” Baul’s past words ring on the soldier's ears. Both share a look, stopping as they notice the force Lilia uses. His magearm isn't anywhere on sight so he can't do this faster than he wished. Even if the ice begins to crack and spread, Lilia doesn't dare budge from his spot but the other two do. They try to coax Lilia to move away from the ice. Reach him even. To stop him from potentially falling in the snow.
But the ice gives out to the slight pressure of Lilia’s hand. He sinks into the cold water. Bubbles resurface and suddenly both Baul and Lilia resurface. Lilia’s hold around Baul is tight, never losing any grip. Baul holds him close in an attempt to warm him up.
Lilia becomes feverish when they return, yet he walks off the concern and changes into dry clothes. He doesn't speak of what happened but everyone else does. Baul is busy verifying that everyone else is fine. That his clothes have been changed and that someone for the sake of their ruling Queen and future heir prince that Lilia continues to be in good health. Yet to him coming to the tent, he realizes how cold and feverish Lilia must be. He wasn't in the cold lake for long but perhaps Lilia had been more sensitive to the cold than he imagined or perhaps had been out for quite a long time. He's shivering, his back is toward the tent’s only opening and exit. He moves closer to cover him, dragging his own spare scarf around Lilia. His hair is still wet which Baul considers to lecture him about but decides to carefully dry it.
“You shouldn't have done that. I was fine.”
“I couldn't control myself.” Lilia's voice is weak, Baul's surprised he's awake even. “I heard your footsteps, so I woke up.”
“Dry your hair.”
“What's the point? I'm already feverish. It won't change anything. I'm already getting sick.” Lilia shrugged him off, yet Baul continued to. “Don't throw your life away.” The older fae told him. “I was already getting sick anyway looking for the rest and you.”
“Why?”
“Because if I had come back without my team’s whereabouts. I would've more problems than being just sick.”
Baul sighs, not because Lilia is stubborn but because he has to worry about such a thing. War was war, but faes held grudges like no one else could. He wouldn't be surprised if Lilia too held some grudges yet it didn't seem to be the case. He looks at the nape of Lilia's, clear evidence of frostbite. He looked around until Lilia hissed at the contact of ointment.
“What the hell?” He hissed at him. “Frostbites have to be taken care of.” Baul huffed. Lilia's hair was dry by now and all that was needed was making sure Lilia gathered warmth.
“Turn around.” Baul ordered him. The bat didn't immediately obey, too tired. Gathering energy, he ended up obeying. He has a clearer view of Lilia. Frostbites, lips blue. He's too cold.
And it's very much a miracle that Lilia is still awake. He knows Lilia should've had heat stones, so where was his bag?
It's only when he realizes that the bag he lost had been Lilia's. And therefore had put him in a larger predicament than he thought. He slips into the bed and wraps Lilia in his arms. He surprisingly is willing to accept the warmth Baul emits and is quick to rest.
He growls at the faes that come to the tent knowing how quick to wake Lilia is, yet after the third time, he realizes Lilia is for once too deep in his sleep to wake up. So instead he slips after covering him well to accept what every fae is attempting to give him. Every item is meant to help Lilia. Homemade medicine with what they had, soup, blankets and someone had even went as far as to mine for a heat stone. He quietly thanks them, not wanting to wake the sleeping fae and tells them to rest.
He goes back to tending to Lilia. The new blanket is laid over him, the heat stone is placed under his pillow and the soup is kept warm. His rough hands gently brush his hair away, he watches him tremble at the fever’s doing.
He sees Lilia shift, yet his eyes don't seem as clear as usual yet he leans into the touches. Baul thinks he looks peaceful for once. Yet the more he looks at him, the softer his expression seems.
He slips again to provide him more warmth. And this Lilia seems to accept without further thought, he stares at him. In his feverish daze, he surprisingly speaks as clear as ever.
“Baul. I love you.” He admits, Baul isn't sure if Lilia is just scared he won't get to ever tell him but he knows the bat is vulnerable now and supposed it was a good time to be believed.
Or if Lilia truly thought he had lost him when he couldn't find him after days of looking.
“I know.” Baul tells him, kissing his head lightly. “I know you do.” The crocodile fae pulls him closer. Their relationship had its own struggles, where Baul had been more open than Lilia. Baul understood why he had his hesitations, his inner conflicts and need for patience. Baul would give it to him happily because he knew Lilia truly felt the same.
He smiled at him. “I love you.”
“I know…” Lilia's murmur words only solidify he had been truthful. Had meant to say it then, he had managed to retain enough consciousness to know what they were talking about.
Baul recalls the food and medicine the rest had prepared. And he doesn't tell him who prepared it, Lilia doesn't need to know now.
When he finds out, he's back to his usual self. Instead of working them to the bone the first thing he does manage to do is get them a hearty meal. One that they haven't had the chance to have in a while. Despite his reluctance to eat with them all, he still sits and sips his drink.
He doesn't thank them openly but they accept his indirect thank you. Solidifying their respect for their General. Red eyes land on Baul. The two of them slip away, the weather had already changed to spring, one they not silently agree to be the better weather. In the tent, they sit together before Lilia makes the first move for once. He kisses Baul. His hands find purchase on his shoulders. And Baul’s hands find his waist, pulling him closer. Their closeness makes Baul quite aware of his heart beat, it makes his own skip a beat.
He reminds himself this is more than normal for Lilia. He pulls them both to the makeshift bed. Nuzzling his nose against his, he speaks. “I love you, Lilia.” The younger fae lets out a huff, not liking the interruption, matching up their lips together.
Baul lets out a soft chuckle. Lilia's lips aren't too far from Baul’s. “I love you.”