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mileroos · 7 months

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Fic: Astragalus

The commander wakes to find Aurene by one side, and Trahearne by another. It isn't the world he's used to, where he searched for the shards of his heart alongside the shards of Caladbolg. Part of an AU where Trahearne survives Heart of Thorns.

On AO3

“—ander… up…”

A little groan and a turn of the head.

“—Commander.”

“Five more minutes…” He grumbles, leaning further against a somewhat hard surface; something a bit… scaly? How odd, none of his pillows have been made from scales before… Unless—

Kaushue sits up abruptly. “I’m awake, I’m awake!”

His ‘pillow’ chirps in delight, finding amusement in his bewilderment, and he feels a slight heat in his face, bark radiating an ice-blue glow. He gently runs a hand across Aurene’s back, thanking her for playing the part of impromptu bedding.

“That was quite the fetching sight, you must know,” he hears a voice from above where he sits, “the Pact commander curled up asleep against a dragon hatchling.”

Kaushue looks up, and feels a bit winded at the familiar shades of green and yellow.

Trahearne takes a seat by them on the ground, reaching out to pet under Aurene’s chin affectionately. She purrs, clearly pleased.

“Trahearne…” Kaushue begins, but can’t find the words. “But, Mordremoth… how…?”

The older sylvari raises his brow, confusion writ across his face. “Mordremoth? Commander, are you feeling alright?”

No, he wants to say. He can remember it clearly, the nausea and fear that coursed through him as they had finally caught up and saw the vile, twisted things that Mordremoth had done to Trahearne. He could never forget something like that, could never forget what he… had to do.

He could never forget waking up some mornings, long before the others, and just laying there in silence staring at Caladbolg where it remained at his bedside, shattered.

He startles when he feels fingers gently brush at his eyes. He looks up, confused, and sees the way Aurene and Trahearne both look at him with concern.

“You’re crying.”

“I… am?” He raises a hand to his face, and his fingers come away damp. “I’m sorry, I don’t… quite understand what’s going on.”

“It seems you had quite the nightmare.” Trahearne says softly. He shuffles closer on his spot, pressing up against Kaushue’s side. The commander lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and leans into Trahearne as the man asks, “do you want to talk about it?”

“A nightmare…?” It would make sense. Of course, it had to have just been a nightmare—a horrific, awful nightmare. Kaushue takes a deep breath. “I’d rather not talk about it. Not right now.”

A moment later, he feels fingers rustle through his leaves comfortingly, and can’t help but lean his head into it. A little bit of affection is sorely welcomed. “That’s fine. I came to fetch you, but I think you deserve some more time to rest.”

Aurene chirps loudly, fluttering her small wings. She looks happy—but when does she not? Kaushue has no idea if dragons can smile, but the girl appears to have no other expression. He can’t help but chuckle. “Time for another nap with Aurene? Are you quite sure? I take it’s not some world-ending crisis this time, then?”

“Another update on the Primordus-Jormag situation, but it isn’t so dire that you cannot take a few more minutes.” Trahearne slowly retracts his hand, allowing it to fall between them, where it lands atop Kaushue’s. “…And as thankful as I am to her, I felt I needed a small reprieve from Taimi’s constant communications. She can be very… loud, with her personality at times.”

“That’s Taimi all right.” He loves the kid, he does, but asura in general have always exhausted him, and she is no exception. “You say Primordus and Jormag… so then, Mordremoth really is…?”

“I, yes?” Trahearne gives him a strange look. “It's been several months by now. Surely you haven’t forgotten?”

“I’m sorry, I suppose my nightmare muddled my memories. How did it all…?”

The older sylvari pauses for a moment before taking a breath. “We lost many people to the dragon. Many more than I had anticipated.” His fingers slip between Kaushue’s, squeezing him. “If not for you and the others, the casualties would have been beyond catastrophic. Irrecoverable.”

“I… remember that much.” Although he wishes he could forget just how many brothers and sisters he had to cut down, minds and bodies claimed by that monster.

“I was...” Trahearne takes a deep breath before he continues, and Kaushue can feel his insides twist and turn uncomfortably. “You found me before Mordremoth could fully claim my mind, but… we nearly lost you in the process. As we nearly did Caithe, and Canach.”

Kaushue blinks—he can’t seem to remember any of it. He digs through his memories, but it feels like they’ve all been replaced by those of his nightmare instead. “Nearly lost us?”

“You were so desperate to save me. You talked about some purification ritual you witnessed in Arah—”

“Twitchy!”

Trahearne jolts at the sudden yell. “…Yes, something about a chicken.”

He clears his throat, continuing. “But there wasn’t time, so you took me back to Rata Novus, even though you knew the risks if I were to turn…”

“This is insanity, I do hope you know that, Commander.”

Kaushue paces back and forth, tugging at his leaves in frustration. “Insanity seems like our only option right now!” He barks.

They have Trahearne restrained to a table, but there is no telling if the restraints would be even slightly worth it were he to succumb to Mordremoth. The man is unconscious, but moans every so often to indicate the pain and duress he is under.

“Mordremoth clearly wants him for something—this isn’t just about my feelings, about—” He tries to fight the burning in his eyes. “And whatever that something is, it can’t be good for us.”

Rytlock goes to open his mouth, but the commander holds up a hand to silence him. “Killing him will do nothing, you’ve seen that Mordremoth doesn’t particularly care for the status of his puppets.”

Canach motions towards Trahearne with his sword. “From what the Pact soldiers kept saying, he’d probably prefer this one dead. Less struggle.”

Kaushue turns to scold his brother for the off-colour quip, but instead decides to shrug it off with a sigh. He wishes Jory were here to help keep things grounded, but he’d already excused her to catch up with Kas and Rox. If things truly were dire, he’d rather they’d have their time together.

It wasn’t like there was much any of them could do now. Anyone perhaps…

He looks back over to the table, where Taimi comes and goes as fast as she can manage, checking between some apparatus or other and the corrupted sylvari. She hums, and rejects when Braham, unable to handle the waiting and clearly antsy, offers to carry her.

“According to my readings, the magic frequency coming from Trahearne is almost identical to Mordremoth’s right now.” She murmurs, biting at her clawed thumb. “If we want any chance at saving him, we need to separate the two, and we need to do it ASAP.”

“So, what?” Braham asks, heaving his weapons up, ready to storm back out. “We go back to the Stand and join the rest of the Pact in beating the dragon six ways to Sunday? I’m up for it.”

“Something tells me that ain’t gonna work, kid.” Huffs Rytlock. “Things are never that easy for us.”

“No, we need to cut it off at the source.” The tiny Asura says, pondering to herself. “He has Trahearne’s mind captivated… Now, how do you go about separating something from your mind…”

Caithe slinks out of the darkness of a nearby corner, glancing at her corruption-ravaged brother on the table. They may never have been the closest, but she would rather not have to put him to rest as well. “Kaushue, do you remember when we met?” She asks, tilting her head towards the commander.

“In the Dream? Yes, what about it?”

“The Shadow of the Dragon,” she says,”we had to drive it off to prevent it tainting the Dream.”

“…Are you saying you think we can fight Mordremoth in the same way?” He asks incredulously. It sounds far-fetched to his ears, but the more he ponders it over, the more sense it makes.

“It’s just a guess, but I believe if we can destroy Mordremoth’s mind, we could still free Trahearne. And all sylvari.” Guilt is apparent in her eyes—she wants, no, needs to do right by her people, even just this once. She does not again utter her fear that the dragon's demise could mean the end for their people. She has voiced it well enough, and knows the commander agrees. It will be better this way, regardless of the consequences.

“Wonderful idea, however, there’s a major flaw in it,” pipes up Taimi from one of the other tables, looking at various implements and objects Kaushue could barely begin to describe.

“We don’t have the luxury of time to head back to the Grove and petition a critically injured tree.” Rytlock grunts, folding his arms over his chest.

Kaushue grits his teeth in anger, hands trembling as he balls them up. “Then we’re doomed, aren’t we? If Caithe is right, which, despite everything, I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt on, there is no other way to truly kill Mordremoth.” He spins on his heel and looks at his friends, sees their worry, their frustration, their anger. They are all in the same boat, but they are looking to him for the solution. He has nothing. Only doubt. “The Pact and our other allies are still fighting in Dragon's Stand as we speak, and if we can’t access the Dream, they will all die out there.” He says softly, more defeated than he has ever felt.

Braham begins to open his mouth, but is cut off abruptly.

“Woah there, big guy!” Cries out Taimi from behind them, leaping off her chair.

They all turn to look, and find Trahearne stirring, blearily looking around the room as if trying to find something. He does not try to pull against the restraints, so Kaushue motions for the others to lower their weapons.

“Commander…” The man weakly murmurs.

Aware it could be a trap, Kaushue approaches cautiously, looking down at his marshal. “Yes?” He asks, voice quiet and gentle.

“I heard your voice. My connection to the dragon,” he begins, pausing to wince momentarily, “it allows me to access the Dream…”

“Can you send us in?” Caithe asks without hesitation, briskly walking up to her brothers. “Like Mother was able to?”

“I believe so.” Trahearne takes a deep inhale, squeezing his eyes shut. “It is hard to resist, but if you can find Mordremoth in the Dream, then…”

Kaushue reaches out, taking one of Trahearne’s ragged hands in his own. He holds tight, squeezing him. “Send me in. I’m going to destroy Mordremoth.”

A hand tugs on his shoulder, and he pulls back to look at Caithe. Her expression is grim, but he can’t fathom why. They have their solution right there. “Kaushue, if you go in, you may never come back.” She says. “Mother was there to pull us back out in the past, but if we sever their connection, Trahearne may have no way of doing so for us.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I don’t care.”

“…Very well.”

A dark shade falls over the two, and they turn their eyes upwards to their larger, bulkier companions, faces both set in matching scowls.

“So you’re going on a suicide mission…” Rytlock starts—

“Without us?” —And Braham finishes.

Kaushue lets go of Trahearne’s hand to properly face his companions. Despite it all, he can only grin at them. “Well, one of you still has a legend in the making”, he pokes Braham in the chest, then turns to the charr, “and someone needs to make sure Logan is okay when he wakes up again.”

Braham smiles, even if he doesn’t quite like the idea of being left out, and Rytlock just grunts and shifts on his spot.

“Someone also needs to stay and protect Taimi in case the worst happens.” He glances over at her and she pouts slightly. “Not that I don’t trust her, but one asura versus a hulking great mordrem with the power of an elder dragon? The odds aren’t great.”

Braham heaves his weapons up once more, determination on his face. “Got it, boss.”

A cough to the side makes the commander turn his gaze. “Forgetting someone, are we?” Canach has his sword and shield out and at the ready.

“Sorry, didn’t think you were one for suicide missions.” Kaushue says with a small shrug.

“I’m not. I am, however, one for choosing my fate, and dead-but-free sounds preferable to being some miserable dragon’s little plaything.” He scowls, looking disgusted. “I have had quite much of being a plaything.”

“Then it’s decided,” Kaushue says, looking back to Trahearne. “As sylvari, we’ll settle what Mordremoth started—no matter what.”

Kaushue can’t help but flush a bit as Trahearne’s tale trails off, admitting he was hardly lucid enough to understand what had happened after the three had departed. Not that it particularly matters too much, the fact he is here and sat with Trahearne and Aurene more than enough evidence that they succeeded.

“I certainly hope I thanked them enough afterwards…” the commander mumbles to himself, feeling a bit sheepish. It is certainly a bit awkward to realise just how much danger he put everyone in.

“Well, Canach was very… prideful, in the aftermath. I suppose slaying an elder dragon does that to you.” Trahearne says with a soft chuckle. “I get the feeling from him he’s going to ask for some favour I can’t refuse thanks to him helping save me.”

A chuckle escapes the young sylvari too, only to then turn to hiccups, and then sobbing.

There is a moment before the commander feels Trahearne’s hands gently around him, pulling him against the other man’s chest and into the comfort of those familiar, crisp leaves, the smooth bark that pattern he’s come to know as well as his own. Trahearne’s arms are tight around him, comforting, protecting. One hand strokes his back in slow, gentle circles, the other carding through the dark leaves of his hair.

It is what Trahearne has done for him each and every time he failed at being strong enough to keep it together.

Aurene trills again in upset-sounding tones. Kaushue can only assume she is trying to alleviate his state when she tries to curl up tightly around him and Trahearne.

“Kaushue,” Trahearne whispers softly, “what’s wrong? I’ve hardly ever seen you so upset.”

How could he explain it? He doesn’t want to talk about the things he saw in his nightmare, hopes that if he keeps quiet then it will all just go away.

He doesn’t want to tell Trahearne about what he saw.

“I’m just,” he wails instead, “so glad you’re here.”

The other man’s gaze softens. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the nature of his lover’s nightmare. He’s had them too, or rather, ones like it. When Kaushue’s sister, Aileana, had come to him in private long ago and told him of what their brother Iowerth had shown her in Lychcroft Mere. It haunted him, followed him into his sleep and into his nightmares.

He shuts his eyes and buries his nose into the man’s leaves, thankful that at the very least Kaushue’s nightmare was just that. A nightmare.

They stay there like that until his sobs slowly ebb away into nothing more than sniffles. And when he eventually pulls back, Kaushue’s face is flushed. He winces at the mess he’d made of Trahearne’s leaves. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.

Trahearne shakes his head, “it hardly matters. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I do. Thank you, Trahearne.”

He looks up at his partner, and Trahearne only lets out a small breath, leaning in to give him the briefest of kisses. They both glow a little when they hear Aurene make curious, inquisitive noises from where she still cushioned them both like some sort of chair.

“Oh, that’s right, dragons… Right, right. Primordus, and Jormag…” Kaushue says, not realising how much time they’d let past while Trahearne jogged his memory.

The two stand slowly, and Aurene hops to her feet. She runs about their legs like a cat, albeit a cat perhaps a dozen sizes too large. She nuzzles the commander’s leg for a moment, almost purring in her array of noises.

“Like I said, it’s nothing major. Some minor magical disturbances, but no attacks or anything of the sort.” Trahearne says as they step down from the high platform where Aurene spends her days. “Taimi just wanted me to let you know, since we were both already here.”

Kaushue shakes his head a little, motioning to himself. “Sorry, still a bit dazed, although more’s coming back now. Why are you in Tarir?” He asks, nearly tripping over Aurene as she darts between his legs.

“Part of what I wasn’t lucid enough to understand, but the general idea is that they managed to… syphon the excess dragon magic that remained in me after Mordremoth’s death.” Trahearne frowns, like he still can’t quite grasp it. “I was unconscious for a very long time after you killed the dragon.”

“So they… sucked Mordremoth’s corruption out of you?” The commander joins Trahearne in his frown. It seems rather simple, but it probably was some ridiculous combination of Taimi’s incomprehensible work and the Exalted’s talents.

“Not quite, I don’t think. They managed to divert it to Aurene’s egg,” she trills at the mention of herself, rubbing against Trahearne’s leg too. “It was how she hatched. I think she thinks I’m her father. Or one of them at least.”

Kaushue flushes heavily at the implication.

"It's why Caithe isn't here right now, by the way," Trahearne looks over at him with a teasing grin, "said that Aurene needed some 'father-figure-daughter bonding time' alone. I suppose that's me while you're away."

The commander hides his luminous face behind his hands.

“Anyway," he continues, returning to his original point, "they wanted me to remain here for a time to make sure that none of Mordremoth’s magic lingered in me.” Trahearne says as he reaches down to scritch the hatchling’s chin once more. They have come to the exit of the egg chamber, and Kaushue also opts to fuss the girl before they move on.

They step out of the room, the large door shutting behind them. “What about the Pact, then?”

“Officially, Logan has been appointed Acting Marshal and is in charge of operating things while I am in ‘rehabilitation’.” Trahearne looks up, somewhat sombre. “The truth is that I want to pass the position to him permanently. Tyria isn’t trusting of us sylvari anymore, and he has the qualities that could bring back trust and support to the Pact.”

“I see.”

“I’m not fit to lead an army after what happened. Both in terms of confidence and physical health.” He continues as they walk, kicking up small stones and dirt along the path. “But our little guild, that’s a good fit for me, I think.”

Kaushue helps him along the rubble and up to the mushrooms, following him as they ascend towards the main area of the city. “If it helps at all, I think I prefer things this way.”

They land on the soft grass above and take the sight in around them—it never really gets old or familiar, the towering structures of gold with trees hanging high overhead. Sometimes it’s hard to believe such a grand city thrived for so long out here, unknown to most.

“I can’t say I miss never having enough time to spend just with you.” Trahearne says softly, reaching out for the commander’s hand. They fit together well, ice blue on verdant green

“I can’t either.” He leans into the other man for a few moments, uncaring that the Exalted wandering around could easily see them. Perhaps they wouldn’t be so pleased about PDA in the middle of their city, but if that’s the case then they scarce show it.

“Now,” he continues, looking back and forth between the four sets of golden steps, “if you can’t come back with me just yet, you can at least accompany me out of the city.”

Trahearne chuckles and allows himself to be pulled along by the younger sylvari. “Of course.”

#trammander #trahearne #fanfic #(( holds this closely to my heart

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