Shedding Light, Part 2: The Silence Broken (with ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smartass_captain)
Jun. 2nd, 2021 09:20 pmconjuredskies((OOC Note: Part of the Shedding Light series, dealing with trauma and the consequences of necromancy. Content Warning for possible upsetting imagery and trauma in this section, with added body horror elsewhere in the series. ))
Some things can't stay buried.
They give him enough grace period that Felix isn’t constantly on painkillers by the time he returns to Bruma. His hands are still swathed in neat bandages, though by now it’s mostly to stop him from trying to use them. Felix wishes there was a drug to numb the pain of this next task, but at the last second he refrains from remarking as much to Jim. He doesn’t think his husband would find it that funny.
His brother and uncle are waiting for them in the main room of the house, fresh cups and a pot of steaming canis tea set out on a table. Stratos has a hand toward the fire as they enter, idly stoking the flames with his magic. The elder of the brothers had said he could spare the whole evening. Given the gaggle of apprentice battlemages he’s supposed to be watching over, Felix assumes he must have quite a lecture planned.
Felix certainly feels like he’s walking into a military tribunal. But Jim’s hand at his back is both insistent and reassuring, paying no heed to the conjurer’s leaden steps. He takes a deep breath as they look up. “Evening, uncle. Stratos.”
He doesn’t know if the dread in his stomach is written plain across his face. But Terentius pushes to his feet, uneven steps carrying him straight to pull his nephew into an embrace. “Thank the gods you’re safe, Felix. How are you feeling?”
“…Foolish, as ever.” His eyes flit to Stratos over Terentius’s shoulder, but his brother isn’t actually jumping to agree for once.
There have been....disagreements. In the texts that have been passed back and forth between brothers-in-law while Felix has been recovering. No words harsh enough that there's ice in the room as Jim and Stratos meet each other's glances, but neither one warms the room with a smile for the other, either.
Considering the subject matter on the table for discussion once all and sundry have been assured that Jim's people know what they're doing where healing is concerned maybe it's just that neither one especially wants to discuss this either. They have to though. Unlike Felix, responsibility is not so easily ignored as a prospect for either. The captain stands to one side to better allow Felix to be greeted by his family. It's important not to rush this bit. Not to rush any of it, if they can help it, no matter how much Jim would rather be anywhere else than discussing Rielle aloud.
It's Jim who shakes his head when Felix jumps to self-depreciate before they've even started. He doesn't speak up to agree or disagree aloud though.
"I brought a paper copy of his medical record." Jim offers instead. "For your review." The offer isn't brushed aside exactly, but Jim forgets this is His family now too. Which means once Terentius is done hugging Felix and making sure he's alright Jim is likewise going to be pulled into a hug. One he's not quite prepared for. The captain may squawk with surprise, but it eases something in his shoulders as he leans to return the gesture their uncle's way.
"I'm just glad to see both of you home safely." Another thing Jim is going to have to get used to. He's not The Captain, here. He's one of the family, and this is his home. Even Felix can't help but pull a smile to see how startled he is by the affection. When Terentius pulls away, he's gesturing to both of them to sit down.
"I would like to look over the records later," Stratos adds quietly. He moves over to pour the tea into small cups for both of them. "But I'm sure the doctor did fine work. Have your hands been mending, Felix?"
"Enough for me to cast a small spell or two when Jim isn't looking. Small ones!" he adds, at the look Jim gives him. "I'm not taking chances, I promise."
It is perhaps a more difficult thing to remember when The Captain is the best mask Jim has for pretending all is well even (especially) when that's as far from the truth as could be. Stratos never called him out on it all the times they texted, but looking at him now Jim has to wonder how much they've both been affording each other the same lie out of respect for the other not mentioning anything. Jim's not The Captain here, he's Felix's Husband. Which sets a much Much different expectation if Jim stopped to think about that for even a moment.
Age before rank in this house, Terentius had scolded Stratos when they were half dead on the floor of Felix's room in fresh from....
Jim murmurs a thanks as he's escorted to a seat and handed a cup of tea. His gaze flits over the house while he remembers everything anew. The house still feels strange, but he's getting used to it. The carvings and the lingering scent of smoke are becoming familiar. The hunting horn gifted to them before their wedding sits above the hearth along with the sword that’s hung there since the brothers were children. It’s less 'The Caelus house' and more, their Nirnish home. Felix has adjusted far better than he has, in this respect. Then again, Felix spends so much more of His time away from his home plane.
"Bones will put you back under medical watch if he thinks you can't be left alone." Jim warns softly. He should know better than anyone how little the good doctor plays around when it comes to the recovery of his patients. "...But he does seem to be mostly recovered." The addition comes reluctantly, mostly because of Felix threatening to pout.
"All the more reason we're lucky that the doctor is in charge of Felix's care," Stratos remarks wryly. He makes sure Felix has his hands tucked around his cup before letting go, ignoring the very half-hearted face Felix pulls.
"Does it hurt?" Terentius asks. The old soldier's brow is furrowed sympathetically. "I've never known magefire burns to heal gently. Are you getting your sleep?"
"It's much less bad than a fire spell, uncle. And really, their medicines are incredible. I'm as comfortable as I could ask to be... well, if I had my hands back."
"It's a relief to hear that." Stratos looks to Jim for confirmation before he goes on. "But we still need to talk about what happened. And just why you asked me to put a ward around the outer perimeter of Rielle."
"Soon." Jim murmurs to his husband. His gaze flickers to his own cup of tea for a moment, but only that. There's no point in describing some of the rougher nights they've had. It would only worry Terentius and Stratos and besides, those nights are past now. Felix is recovering well. The worst of their evenings are now because of the shadow hanging over them all.
When Jim looks up Stratos is looking at him. He tries not to visibly startle much. Nods after a second.
"There are...other matters as well." Jim hasn't forgotten that someone else's livelihood is at stake here. It may not make talking about this any easier, but knowing lives depend on him acting does spur on his sense of urgency.
"What other matters?" Terentius looks troubled, and Felix can't blame him for the alarm. At this point he must be fearing what new unpleasant wrinkle could be added to their problems. And... well, he's not sure he's about to help.
"The reason I went back there, I think," he answers, glancing at Jim. "Why I needed to get back into Rielle."
Stratos nods. It's something he's been waiting for an answer on, these past weeks. "What could possibly be worth delving back into those cursed crypts?"
The exasperated sigh Jim gives, even quietly, tells everyone here that they're going to like this answer about as much as the captain does. Which may put Felix on the defensive but it's certainly going to get a look exchanged between Terentius and Stratos. It speaks far more than words to the kind of Felix-based problem they are all in the midst of. Jim Kirk truly has become one of the family, namely one who is able to recognize when Felix's penchant for trouble has somewhat compromised what the rest of the family believes in. Not to even say Felix doesn't also value those things, just clearly not as much as he should, else this wouldn't be a problem in the first place.
"To be fair to Felix, he's attempting to potentially save someone's life. Certainly their career and credibility." No matter how frustrated Jim is, it's important, he thinks, to lead with the positive. The gallant intentions his love had when he went to go do his incredibly reckless and ultimately failed venture. Frankly 'heroic but utterly reckless' isn't really a topic Jim Kirk can throw stones at. It's the rest of this story that has him at his wits end.
Felix nods, trying to affirm what Jim is saying. That he did have a reason, he really wasn't recklessly ignoring the hurt he could cause his family a second time. But it's hard, even for him, to try and claim any kind of noble action when it centers on Rielle. When it's an attempt to mend the damage he caused in the first place. If it were anything else, he'd be the first to tout his good intentions, begging lenience for the consequences, but on this subject he's always deflated. Subdued. The weight of guilt too great for even his charming audacity to shrug off.
"When I was possessed, I enlisted the help of a friend in the College of Whispers to gain access to their inner library. Where they keep their most valuable and powerful tomes of necromancy, among other things." He shrugs at Stratos's grimace; this of all times, he can't chide his brother that the College are more than traffickers in the dangerous and immoral forms of magic. "Look, they try to keep them safe. They just... don't know about PINpoints. I took a few of their most precious books from them without anyone being the wiser. Well, for a while."
He swallows. "But obviously since then, they've worked out that my friend had something to do with it, and he's liable to be thrown out for good if he - well, I - can't return them..."
"But you left them in the crypt somewhere," Terentius finishes with a sigh. Felix nods again.
"I didn't even remember taking them, not until I got his letters. I thought they might be in the upper level, so I could get in and out without any trouble, but- well, obviously it wasn't that easy. And I... I wasn't strong enough to go down into the crypts. So I tried to summon something to do it for me."
Stratos pinches the bridge of his nose. "'Something'?"
"....A dremora." He tries to wave off the aghast looks they give him, and nearly drops his tea. "It's not that terrible! Mages used to summon dremora servants for errands all the time!"
"Not all the time," Stratos corrects. Terentius has set his mouth uneasily; he catches Jim's eye as if to say he knows he can't talk for mage things, but that doesn't make him comfortable with them. "And those were mages far older and more rigorously trained than you, Felix."
"But not as desperate," his brother shoots back.
The gasps and pale faces that respond to what Felix has summoned down in Rielle to try and retrieve what he couldn’t manage alone eat away at the resolve Jim's trying to show. He doesn't know enough to gasp alongside them. It's not until Terentius catches his eye that Jim feels himself clenching his jaw, balling his hands into fists where they rest on his lap.
It's plain to see Jim didn't know how bad the situation was. That he only ever heard Felix's description (if he'd given one at all) of what he'd summoned to try and help him recover those missing tomes. The captain from another plane shifts in his seat. Turns his gaze to face Terentius. His eyes narrow in an unspoken question, his head canting to the side ever so slightly to defer to the older man. When Terentius shakes his head minutely in response Jim inhales sharply.
The brothers are still bickering.
"Desperation is all the more reason not to strain for magic beyond your control, Felix. I would have thought you of all people--" Accusation is leaking into Stratos's words, venom in the water, and Jim knows this is all going to spiral out of control soon.
"Enough." His Cyrodillic catches strange in his accent but Jim doesn't care right now. "We can argue what should and should not be later. It doesn't change what is, and a man's life could very well hang in the balance if we don't do something."
Even if Something means going back to Rielle. Even if thinking of that place makes Jim's palms sweat, nausea rising in his gut until his throat burns and he has to grit his teeth not to give in to it. "We need those tomes safely returned, yes?" He doesn't want to say it he doesn't want it to be true he doesn't want to go back--
"We're going....to have to go get them."
There's a ripple of unease through the main room.
For those who have braved the crypt already, the healthy fire Stratos has so lovingly stoked doesn't seem to be warm or bright enough anymore. Filthy cold seeps into lungs, fetid with the stench of dead flesh and twisting dark magic that never should have been cast. Terentius can only watch how tightly his newest nephew clenches his jaw despite the color draining from his face. How Stratos' expression bleeds away into something empty and distant as he struggles to shut his mind against the unwanted memories that threaten his resolve. How Felix all but cringes in on himself with his guilt to see both of them react so.
Terentius clears his throat. "There must be another way..."
But Jim shakes his head with jerky movements. Stratos sighs so heavily it's a wonder he doesn't collapse after he's finished. "If there were, I very much doubt we'd all be sitting here now." That Felix wouldn't have simply taken the first Out he could get.
Jim shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The words he needs to say sit heavy in his mouth. Just working up the nerve to open his mouth is like trying to force open a locked door. "Listen. None of us....want to go back there." He's worried that every word is going to be a monumental effort but as soon as he starts it's as if a dam inside of him bursts. "We all have our nightmares of...." Jim swallows. "Of that place. I haven't slept soundly in months now. What things I can remember, what things I imagine might happen if we go back--all of it is enough to leave me sick to my stomach. It's not the first time I've had this kind of reaction to trauma. It's normal to be afraid. And I am." He can feel his racing pulse in the very tips of his fingers.
"But I'm going back anyway. Not because I want to. Not because I'm immune to what happened there. I'm going back because we have to. Felix shouldn't have to face this alone." Can't, even. Else he'd not have gotten injured in the first place.
The cup of tea in Jim's hands belies how they tremble. He stares hard down at it until he can keep them steady. The drink does a little to help warm him up when he takes a sip. Not enough, but not nothing.
If they could bring Felix home at all, they can manage to gather up some books. At least those won't be fighting them every step of the way. Though some of Rielle's other inhabitants may.
Jim’s admission to how his trauma has been gnawing at him makes each man shift in their seat: Felix’s face is pale as he reaches out to place a hand on his husband’s back, tentatively offering comfort, no longer thinking about defending his mistakes. Stratos’s expression is tight with concern, faintly sympathetic, though his rigid posture says he’s determined not to let his true feelings show. Of course he can’t. He’s the tribune, the eldest brother. He needs to be strong for the sake of the others.
Terentius looks between them all and decides to interject. “It takes strength from a man to talk about such things, Jim. I’m glad that Felix has your kind of courage on his side. But – though it’s a fine and gentlemanly thing to brave anything for a friend’s honor- even for restitution – I want you to stop and think whether this is worth risking your lives for. Risking each other, since you’re all set on not minding your own lives. Maybe the harder way of repaying your friend is the better one.”
Stratos considers his uncle’s sense, but says with reluctance, “The dremora changes things, uncle. At the least we have to make sure it’s slain. Rielle itself is contained, and in winter few are likely to venture up to some haunted ruins, but my wards will not last forever. A daedra roaming the woods can mean nothing but harm for those who cross its path. Jim is right. We have to return, and put an end to all of this.”
"Really wish I wasn't." It's a tiny murmur, more grumbled than anything as Jim drags in a deep breath again just to sigh audibly. He's got no idea what a dremora even is, but it's far more dangerous apparently than any of the atronachs Felix has summoned in the past. He doesn't need to ask How Dangerous though.
He remembers the state of Felix's traveling gear when he and Bones stripped Felix of it to get him to medical. Anger, at least, is something of a balm. Jim can use that outrage that Felix was betrayed by one of his own summons as the fuel he needs to see this through.
Terentius will find no reconsideration on either Stratos nor Jim's faces. Only Felix has remained quiet throughout, though he's not stopped attempting to comfort his husband despite whatever he might think. Terentius is forced to nod along to his Nephew's logic, albeit with hesitation.
"And so you think as long as you're going back to that blighted place for the dremora, it's best to finish the job and be rid of Rielle for good. Is that it?" This time Terentius looks to Felix for a reply. Their youngest is no boy anymore--sitting quiet while others decide what's best isn't the only option for him now. If anything he's going to have to give some kind of comment given how this all came to be.
Felix wishes he didn't feel hot shame coiling in his gut when he looks up and catches his uncle looking at him. Wishes, though he shouldn't, that one of the others would speak up and spare him the burden of the decision. Instead they follow Terentius and look at him, and in the silence Felix knows he has to say something. Only...
"I don't know," he says. "We could probably lure out the dremora and banish it without ever going inside. Leave the rest to whatever scoundrel wants to claim Rielle next. But should I even want to do that? It's my fault the place is a death trap for the next unwary soul to delve in there. And I know... if it was any of you, you'd choose to go in there and clean up your mess. Talos knows I should be able to, I've faced worse things than I could have summoned up down there. But..."
His breath shudders when he tries to draw air. "I'm afraid. I'm really fucking scared to face what's in that cursed crypt. And I really don't want to make any of you go through that for me again. And I don't know if going at all is a stupid gesture of honor before reason, but I don't know if that's just an excuse for being a coward either." He can't bury his face in his hands, with the cooling cup of tea there. He stares at it, heat pooling in his cheeks. "I should go, and I shouldn't bring any of you down there with me. But I'm not strong enough, a-and... and I'm sorry."
Terentius shifts, stretching his bad leg as best he can by the fire. It doesn't help with his discomfort over the topic at hand. "From what I've heard lad, you tried that already, didn't you?" Felix wouldn't have gotten so hurt if he hadn't tried to do the right and protective thing all on his own already. Jim seems grateful that he's not the only one standing up for Felix's intentions, but Stratos hadn't exactly been looking to rip Felix's words to shreds either.
None of this is easy, none of it simple. No clear black and white solution. There are horrors left in Rielle and their blood was the one to put them there.
“I know, I know, and that just made it worse…” Felix grimaces down into his tea.
“Indeed.” Stratos might be a little oblivious to Felix’s expectations of him, but he’s watching with a mix of exasperation and.. rueful sympathy, in fact. It wouldn’t look well for him to smile, but he can’t help but think this kind of choice, these attempts to do the right thing when it’s wildly unclear what the right decision is…
It’s a sign that whether he likes it or not, Felix is growing up.
"We can all be sorry." Jim settles on finally. "I don't think I have it in me to exterminate that whole place. I think with just the three of us we'd be fools to try, even. But we can get rid of the. Uhm. The dremora, you said. We can do that much. Find the books, get out." Felix made Jim promise not to try and do this alone well before they ever ended up here talking about a real plan. He's doing his best to honor that.
"Fact is, I'm not allowed to do this alone, and I sure as Oblivion don't want either of you two to try and leave me behind."Again. No matter how afraid Jim is, not going just isn't an option so far as he's concerned.
“I agree,” Stratos says, choosing to weigh in and make the decision a little simpler. “With the addition that we should take the chance to remove any… incriminating materials we find. A crypt full of restless dead is nothing so unexpected, but I should have taken steps sooner to make sure there would be no evidence to bring more trouble to our family.”
Felix winces, and Stratos gives him a level look. “I know you don’t feel ready to face it, little brother, but perhaps it’s past time.” Easier to focus on Felix than on his own feelings. The dread sitting leaden in his gut at the thought of walking down those steps again. “We can’t put that place behind us until we’ve dealt with the loose ends that remain.”
Terentius nods thoughtfully, then reaches down to pick the teapot from the hearth and pour another cup. It’s getting strong, but not as much as he’d like right now.
“In that case,” he says, “I’ll be going with you.”
He’s expecting the alarmed faces (less so the tiny choking noise as Jim tries to breathe his tea in his shock and ends up coughing into his hand), though Stratos is barely ahead of his brother when they raise their voices in protest: “Uncle-!”
He lifts a hand firmly, giving them both a hard look in return. “I’m not a frail old man, bad leg or no. I can still swing a sword and lift a shield even if I can’t march ten leagues in a day any more. You three need all the help you can get, and I know you’re not going to ask anyone else for this.” And perhaps they’ll be less inclined to do anything foolish if it’s not just the three of them. He lifts his hand higher when Stratos looks about to argue again.
“I’m not proposing to take the vanguard, here. I know I can’t fight a dremora. But I can guard your backs, stand watch with the horses and be there to help drag one of you out if things go ill.” He drops his hand at last, looking between them with weary determination. “I’ve watched you boys run off into danger tangling with liches and beasts and bad company often enough. Too many times. I’m coming with you.”
The brothers share a look, but they have no way to argue with that. Felix pulls a rueful smile: he didn’t come here expecting to see Stratos get overruled by family.decree. “Then I suppose you’d best make sure your sword is sharp, Uncle. Just in case.”
The old legionnaire lifts his eyebrows, sets down his cup. He turns in his seat, and their eyes follow his gaze above the fireplace, where their mother’s sword has hung for nearly thirty years. “Lad, I always have.”
It’s not difficult for JIm to bite his tongue. No one’s looking to him for approval or advice, not in this house. Besides, for the first little while he’s busy trying to get himself in order. Once he’s settled and cleared his throat it all seems to be decided whether the brothers like it or not. Jim’s got no real frame of reference if this is going to be a help or a hindrance, having Terentius with them. But even a lookout sounds better than not having one. Still. He feels he’d be cruel not to speak up, just a little bit.
“Hope you’ve got a strong stomach, Uncle.”
All they need now is time to make their plan a reality...
Some things can't stay buried.
They give him enough grace period that Felix isn’t constantly on painkillers by the time he returns to Bruma. His hands are still swathed in neat bandages, though by now it’s mostly to stop him from trying to use them. Felix wishes there was a drug to numb the pain of this next task, but at the last second he refrains from remarking as much to Jim. He doesn’t think his husband would find it that funny.
His brother and uncle are waiting for them in the main room of the house, fresh cups and a pot of steaming canis tea set out on a table. Stratos has a hand toward the fire as they enter, idly stoking the flames with his magic. The elder of the brothers had said he could spare the whole evening. Given the gaggle of apprentice battlemages he’s supposed to be watching over, Felix assumes he must have quite a lecture planned.
Felix certainly feels like he’s walking into a military tribunal. But Jim’s hand at his back is both insistent and reassuring, paying no heed to the conjurer’s leaden steps. He takes a deep breath as they look up. “Evening, uncle. Stratos.”
He doesn’t know if the dread in his stomach is written plain across his face. But Terentius pushes to his feet, uneven steps carrying him straight to pull his nephew into an embrace. “Thank the gods you’re safe, Felix. How are you feeling?”
“…Foolish, as ever.” His eyes flit to Stratos over Terentius’s shoulder, but his brother isn’t actually jumping to agree for once.
There have been....disagreements. In the texts that have been passed back and forth between brothers-in-law while Felix has been recovering. No words harsh enough that there's ice in the room as Jim and Stratos meet each other's glances, but neither one warms the room with a smile for the other, either.
Considering the subject matter on the table for discussion once all and sundry have been assured that Jim's people know what they're doing where healing is concerned maybe it's just that neither one especially wants to discuss this either. They have to though. Unlike Felix, responsibility is not so easily ignored as a prospect for either. The captain stands to one side to better allow Felix to be greeted by his family. It's important not to rush this bit. Not to rush any of it, if they can help it, no matter how much Jim would rather be anywhere else than discussing Rielle aloud.
It's Jim who shakes his head when Felix jumps to self-depreciate before they've even started. He doesn't speak up to agree or disagree aloud though.
"I brought a paper copy of his medical record." Jim offers instead. "For your review." The offer isn't brushed aside exactly, but Jim forgets this is His family now too. Which means once Terentius is done hugging Felix and making sure he's alright Jim is likewise going to be pulled into a hug. One he's not quite prepared for. The captain may squawk with surprise, but it eases something in his shoulders as he leans to return the gesture their uncle's way.
"I'm just glad to see both of you home safely." Another thing Jim is going to have to get used to. He's not The Captain, here. He's one of the family, and this is his home. Even Felix can't help but pull a smile to see how startled he is by the affection. When Terentius pulls away, he's gesturing to both of them to sit down.
"I would like to look over the records later," Stratos adds quietly. He moves over to pour the tea into small cups for both of them. "But I'm sure the doctor did fine work. Have your hands been mending, Felix?"
"Enough for me to cast a small spell or two when Jim isn't looking. Small ones!" he adds, at the look Jim gives him. "I'm not taking chances, I promise."
It is perhaps a more difficult thing to remember when The Captain is the best mask Jim has for pretending all is well even (especially) when that's as far from the truth as could be. Stratos never called him out on it all the times they texted, but looking at him now Jim has to wonder how much they've both been affording each other the same lie out of respect for the other not mentioning anything. Jim's not The Captain here, he's Felix's Husband. Which sets a much Much different expectation if Jim stopped to think about that for even a moment.
Age before rank in this house, Terentius had scolded Stratos when they were half dead on the floor of Felix's room in fresh from....
Jim murmurs a thanks as he's escorted to a seat and handed a cup of tea. His gaze flits over the house while he remembers everything anew. The house still feels strange, but he's getting used to it. The carvings and the lingering scent of smoke are becoming familiar. The hunting horn gifted to them before their wedding sits above the hearth along with the sword that’s hung there since the brothers were children. It’s less 'The Caelus house' and more, their Nirnish home. Felix has adjusted far better than he has, in this respect. Then again, Felix spends so much more of His time away from his home plane.
"Bones will put you back under medical watch if he thinks you can't be left alone." Jim warns softly. He should know better than anyone how little the good doctor plays around when it comes to the recovery of his patients. "...But he does seem to be mostly recovered." The addition comes reluctantly, mostly because of Felix threatening to pout.
"All the more reason we're lucky that the doctor is in charge of Felix's care," Stratos remarks wryly. He makes sure Felix has his hands tucked around his cup before letting go, ignoring the very half-hearted face Felix pulls.
"Does it hurt?" Terentius asks. The old soldier's brow is furrowed sympathetically. "I've never known magefire burns to heal gently. Are you getting your sleep?"
"It's much less bad than a fire spell, uncle. And really, their medicines are incredible. I'm as comfortable as I could ask to be... well, if I had my hands back."
"It's a relief to hear that." Stratos looks to Jim for confirmation before he goes on. "But we still need to talk about what happened. And just why you asked me to put a ward around the outer perimeter of Rielle."
"Soon." Jim murmurs to his husband. His gaze flickers to his own cup of tea for a moment, but only that. There's no point in describing some of the rougher nights they've had. It would only worry Terentius and Stratos and besides, those nights are past now. Felix is recovering well. The worst of their evenings are now because of the shadow hanging over them all.
When Jim looks up Stratos is looking at him. He tries not to visibly startle much. Nods after a second.
"There are...other matters as well." Jim hasn't forgotten that someone else's livelihood is at stake here. It may not make talking about this any easier, but knowing lives depend on him acting does spur on his sense of urgency.
"What other matters?" Terentius looks troubled, and Felix can't blame him for the alarm. At this point he must be fearing what new unpleasant wrinkle could be added to their problems. And... well, he's not sure he's about to help.
"The reason I went back there, I think," he answers, glancing at Jim. "Why I needed to get back into Rielle."
Stratos nods. It's something he's been waiting for an answer on, these past weeks. "What could possibly be worth delving back into those cursed crypts?"
The exasperated sigh Jim gives, even quietly, tells everyone here that they're going to like this answer about as much as the captain does. Which may put Felix on the defensive but it's certainly going to get a look exchanged between Terentius and Stratos. It speaks far more than words to the kind of Felix-based problem they are all in the midst of. Jim Kirk truly has become one of the family, namely one who is able to recognize when Felix's penchant for trouble has somewhat compromised what the rest of the family believes in. Not to even say Felix doesn't also value those things, just clearly not as much as he should, else this wouldn't be a problem in the first place.
"To be fair to Felix, he's attempting to potentially save someone's life. Certainly their career and credibility." No matter how frustrated Jim is, it's important, he thinks, to lead with the positive. The gallant intentions his love had when he went to go do his incredibly reckless and ultimately failed venture. Frankly 'heroic but utterly reckless' isn't really a topic Jim Kirk can throw stones at. It's the rest of this story that has him at his wits end.
Felix nods, trying to affirm what Jim is saying. That he did have a reason, he really wasn't recklessly ignoring the hurt he could cause his family a second time. But it's hard, even for him, to try and claim any kind of noble action when it centers on Rielle. When it's an attempt to mend the damage he caused in the first place. If it were anything else, he'd be the first to tout his good intentions, begging lenience for the consequences, but on this subject he's always deflated. Subdued. The weight of guilt too great for even his charming audacity to shrug off.
"When I was possessed, I enlisted the help of a friend in the College of Whispers to gain access to their inner library. Where they keep their most valuable and powerful tomes of necromancy, among other things." He shrugs at Stratos's grimace; this of all times, he can't chide his brother that the College are more than traffickers in the dangerous and immoral forms of magic. "Look, they try to keep them safe. They just... don't know about PINpoints. I took a few of their most precious books from them without anyone being the wiser. Well, for a while."
He swallows. "But obviously since then, they've worked out that my friend had something to do with it, and he's liable to be thrown out for good if he - well, I - can't return them..."
"But you left them in the crypt somewhere," Terentius finishes with a sigh. Felix nods again.
"I didn't even remember taking them, not until I got his letters. I thought they might be in the upper level, so I could get in and out without any trouble, but- well, obviously it wasn't that easy. And I... I wasn't strong enough to go down into the crypts. So I tried to summon something to do it for me."
Stratos pinches the bridge of his nose. "'Something'?"
"....A dremora." He tries to wave off the aghast looks they give him, and nearly drops his tea. "It's not that terrible! Mages used to summon dremora servants for errands all the time!"
"Not all the time," Stratos corrects. Terentius has set his mouth uneasily; he catches Jim's eye as if to say he knows he can't talk for mage things, but that doesn't make him comfortable with them. "And those were mages far older and more rigorously trained than you, Felix."
"But not as desperate," his brother shoots back.
The gasps and pale faces that respond to what Felix has summoned down in Rielle to try and retrieve what he couldn’t manage alone eat away at the resolve Jim's trying to show. He doesn't know enough to gasp alongside them. It's not until Terentius catches his eye that Jim feels himself clenching his jaw, balling his hands into fists where they rest on his lap.
It's plain to see Jim didn't know how bad the situation was. That he only ever heard Felix's description (if he'd given one at all) of what he'd summoned to try and help him recover those missing tomes. The captain from another plane shifts in his seat. Turns his gaze to face Terentius. His eyes narrow in an unspoken question, his head canting to the side ever so slightly to defer to the older man. When Terentius shakes his head minutely in response Jim inhales sharply.
The brothers are still bickering.
"Desperation is all the more reason not to strain for magic beyond your control, Felix. I would have thought you of all people--" Accusation is leaking into Stratos's words, venom in the water, and Jim knows this is all going to spiral out of control soon.
"Enough." His Cyrodillic catches strange in his accent but Jim doesn't care right now. "We can argue what should and should not be later. It doesn't change what is, and a man's life could very well hang in the balance if we don't do something."
Even if Something means going back to Rielle. Even if thinking of that place makes Jim's palms sweat, nausea rising in his gut until his throat burns and he has to grit his teeth not to give in to it. "We need those tomes safely returned, yes?" He doesn't want to say it he doesn't want it to be true he doesn't want to go back--
"We're going....to have to go get them."
There's a ripple of unease through the main room.
For those who have braved the crypt already, the healthy fire Stratos has so lovingly stoked doesn't seem to be warm or bright enough anymore. Filthy cold seeps into lungs, fetid with the stench of dead flesh and twisting dark magic that never should have been cast. Terentius can only watch how tightly his newest nephew clenches his jaw despite the color draining from his face. How Stratos' expression bleeds away into something empty and distant as he struggles to shut his mind against the unwanted memories that threaten his resolve. How Felix all but cringes in on himself with his guilt to see both of them react so.
Terentius clears his throat. "There must be another way..."
But Jim shakes his head with jerky movements. Stratos sighs so heavily it's a wonder he doesn't collapse after he's finished. "If there were, I very much doubt we'd all be sitting here now." That Felix wouldn't have simply taken the first Out he could get.
Jim shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The words he needs to say sit heavy in his mouth. Just working up the nerve to open his mouth is like trying to force open a locked door. "Listen. None of us....want to go back there." He's worried that every word is going to be a monumental effort but as soon as he starts it's as if a dam inside of him bursts. "We all have our nightmares of...." Jim swallows. "Of that place. I haven't slept soundly in months now. What things I can remember, what things I imagine might happen if we go back--all of it is enough to leave me sick to my stomach. It's not the first time I've had this kind of reaction to trauma. It's normal to be afraid. And I am." He can feel his racing pulse in the very tips of his fingers.
"But I'm going back anyway. Not because I want to. Not because I'm immune to what happened there. I'm going back because we have to. Felix shouldn't have to face this alone." Can't, even. Else he'd not have gotten injured in the first place.
The cup of tea in Jim's hands belies how they tremble. He stares hard down at it until he can keep them steady. The drink does a little to help warm him up when he takes a sip. Not enough, but not nothing.
If they could bring Felix home at all, they can manage to gather up some books. At least those won't be fighting them every step of the way. Though some of Rielle's other inhabitants may.
Jim’s admission to how his trauma has been gnawing at him makes each man shift in their seat: Felix’s face is pale as he reaches out to place a hand on his husband’s back, tentatively offering comfort, no longer thinking about defending his mistakes. Stratos’s expression is tight with concern, faintly sympathetic, though his rigid posture says he’s determined not to let his true feelings show. Of course he can’t. He’s the tribune, the eldest brother. He needs to be strong for the sake of the others.
Terentius looks between them all and decides to interject. “It takes strength from a man to talk about such things, Jim. I’m glad that Felix has your kind of courage on his side. But – though it’s a fine and gentlemanly thing to brave anything for a friend’s honor- even for restitution – I want you to stop and think whether this is worth risking your lives for. Risking each other, since you’re all set on not minding your own lives. Maybe the harder way of repaying your friend is the better one.”
Stratos considers his uncle’s sense, but says with reluctance, “The dremora changes things, uncle. At the least we have to make sure it’s slain. Rielle itself is contained, and in winter few are likely to venture up to some haunted ruins, but my wards will not last forever. A daedra roaming the woods can mean nothing but harm for those who cross its path. Jim is right. We have to return, and put an end to all of this.”
"Really wish I wasn't." It's a tiny murmur, more grumbled than anything as Jim drags in a deep breath again just to sigh audibly. He's got no idea what a dremora even is, but it's far more dangerous apparently than any of the atronachs Felix has summoned in the past. He doesn't need to ask How Dangerous though.
He remembers the state of Felix's traveling gear when he and Bones stripped Felix of it to get him to medical. Anger, at least, is something of a balm. Jim can use that outrage that Felix was betrayed by one of his own summons as the fuel he needs to see this through.
Terentius will find no reconsideration on either Stratos nor Jim's faces. Only Felix has remained quiet throughout, though he's not stopped attempting to comfort his husband despite whatever he might think. Terentius is forced to nod along to his Nephew's logic, albeit with hesitation.
"And so you think as long as you're going back to that blighted place for the dremora, it's best to finish the job and be rid of Rielle for good. Is that it?" This time Terentius looks to Felix for a reply. Their youngest is no boy anymore--sitting quiet while others decide what's best isn't the only option for him now. If anything he's going to have to give some kind of comment given how this all came to be.
Felix wishes he didn't feel hot shame coiling in his gut when he looks up and catches his uncle looking at him. Wishes, though he shouldn't, that one of the others would speak up and spare him the burden of the decision. Instead they follow Terentius and look at him, and in the silence Felix knows he has to say something. Only...
"I don't know," he says. "We could probably lure out the dremora and banish it without ever going inside. Leave the rest to whatever scoundrel wants to claim Rielle next. But should I even want to do that? It's my fault the place is a death trap for the next unwary soul to delve in there. And I know... if it was any of you, you'd choose to go in there and clean up your mess. Talos knows I should be able to, I've faced worse things than I could have summoned up down there. But..."
His breath shudders when he tries to draw air. "I'm afraid. I'm really fucking scared to face what's in that cursed crypt. And I really don't want to make any of you go through that for me again. And I don't know if going at all is a stupid gesture of honor before reason, but I don't know if that's just an excuse for being a coward either." He can't bury his face in his hands, with the cooling cup of tea there. He stares at it, heat pooling in his cheeks. "I should go, and I shouldn't bring any of you down there with me. But I'm not strong enough, a-and... and I'm sorry."
Terentius shifts, stretching his bad leg as best he can by the fire. It doesn't help with his discomfort over the topic at hand. "From what I've heard lad, you tried that already, didn't you?" Felix wouldn't have gotten so hurt if he hadn't tried to do the right and protective thing all on his own already. Jim seems grateful that he's not the only one standing up for Felix's intentions, but Stratos hadn't exactly been looking to rip Felix's words to shreds either.
None of this is easy, none of it simple. No clear black and white solution. There are horrors left in Rielle and their blood was the one to put them there.
“I know, I know, and that just made it worse…” Felix grimaces down into his tea.
“Indeed.” Stratos might be a little oblivious to Felix’s expectations of him, but he’s watching with a mix of exasperation and.. rueful sympathy, in fact. It wouldn’t look well for him to smile, but he can’t help but think this kind of choice, these attempts to do the right thing when it’s wildly unclear what the right decision is…
It’s a sign that whether he likes it or not, Felix is growing up.
"We can all be sorry." Jim settles on finally. "I don't think I have it in me to exterminate that whole place. I think with just the three of us we'd be fools to try, even. But we can get rid of the. Uhm. The dremora, you said. We can do that much. Find the books, get out." Felix made Jim promise not to try and do this alone well before they ever ended up here talking about a real plan. He's doing his best to honor that.
"Fact is, I'm not allowed to do this alone, and I sure as Oblivion don't want either of you two to try and leave me behind."
“I agree,” Stratos says, choosing to weigh in and make the decision a little simpler. “With the addition that we should take the chance to remove any… incriminating materials we find. A crypt full of restless dead is nothing so unexpected, but I should have taken steps sooner to make sure there would be no evidence to bring more trouble to our family.”
Felix winces, and Stratos gives him a level look. “I know you don’t feel ready to face it, little brother, but perhaps it’s past time.” Easier to focus on Felix than on his own feelings. The dread sitting leaden in his gut at the thought of walking down those steps again. “We can’t put that place behind us until we’ve dealt with the loose ends that remain.”
Terentius nods thoughtfully, then reaches down to pick the teapot from the hearth and pour another cup. It’s getting strong, but not as much as he’d like right now.
“In that case,” he says, “I’ll be going with you.”
He’s expecting the alarmed faces (less so the tiny choking noise as Jim tries to breathe his tea in his shock and ends up coughing into his hand), though Stratos is barely ahead of his brother when they raise their voices in protest: “Uncle-!”
He lifts a hand firmly, giving them both a hard look in return. “I’m not a frail old man, bad leg or no. I can still swing a sword and lift a shield even if I can’t march ten leagues in a day any more. You three need all the help you can get, and I know you’re not going to ask anyone else for this.” And perhaps they’ll be less inclined to do anything foolish if it’s not just the three of them. He lifts his hand higher when Stratos looks about to argue again.
“I’m not proposing to take the vanguard, here. I know I can’t fight a dremora. But I can guard your backs, stand watch with the horses and be there to help drag one of you out if things go ill.” He drops his hand at last, looking between them with weary determination. “I’ve watched you boys run off into danger tangling with liches and beasts and bad company often enough. Too many times. I’m coming with you.”
The brothers share a look, but they have no way to argue with that. Felix pulls a rueful smile: he didn’t come here expecting to see Stratos get overruled by family.decree. “Then I suppose you’d best make sure your sword is sharp, Uncle. Just in case.”
The old legionnaire lifts his eyebrows, sets down his cup. He turns in his seat, and their eyes follow his gaze above the fireplace, where their mother’s sword has hung for nearly thirty years. “Lad, I always have.”
It’s not difficult for JIm to bite his tongue. No one’s looking to him for approval or advice, not in this house. Besides, for the first little while he’s busy trying to get himself in order. Once he’s settled and cleared his throat it all seems to be decided whether the brothers like it or not. Jim’s got no real frame of reference if this is going to be a help or a hindrance, having Terentius with them. But even a lookout sounds better than not having one. Still. He feels he’d be cruel not to speak up, just a little bit.
“Hope you’ve got a strong stomach, Uncle.”
All they need now is time to make their plan a reality...
