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Keridan -> (DF) The Sweetest Medicine - A Warlic/Hero Fanfic (12/20/2016 17:34:46)
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quote:
Word Count: 4625
Book: 1
Characters: Warlic, Nythera (Briefly), The Hero - Gren, Draco - Solstice
Genre: M/M Romance
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Hello there! This is my first time delving into DragonFable Fanfic. I'm not at all caught up with lore, still stuck on Book 1 myself, though I'm finally going to cave and use a guide cause going on my own literally is a mess. However, I felt in the mood for something mushy, and I felt, why not try delving in the game that inspired me to get into writing in the first place?
I tried my best to read into lore before writing, and got a brief bit of info on Warlic's character, but I have no idea if I have him accurate. In any case, I hope to catch up with lore sooner rather than later, so hopefully my stories would be more accurate by then!
In any case, I really hope you enjoy! I look forward to receiving feedback!
There was no force in the world more extraordinary than magic. Magic encompassed everything, existed in even the most unassuming objects, be it in a dormant state or an active chaos. Its power was widespread, spanning across galaxies, across entire worlds. Its form took so many shapes, it was impossible to completely list all of them, for it seemed that, for every one branch of magic discovered, hundreds of others were yet to even be thought about.
Even with the many eons he had lived for, even with all of the worlds he had explored in his eternity of life, Warlic knew he hadn’t even scratched the surface of his studies with magic. He was widely considered the greatest mage in all of Lore, his power and abilities known, if not outright feared, throughout the land. Yet he could only admit in modest defeat, as great as his understanding of magic was, he knew his quest for knowledge would never end.
To have such an insurmountable feat presented in front of someone would surely have made the ordinary man give up; to turn back to their simple life and attempt something more within grasp. But the Blue Mage was not deterred, even with the impossibility of his desire. To admit defeat would teach nothing about patience and determination, to be satisfied with his status would cause stagnation of body, mind and soul.
With each variety of magic discovered, Warlic saw a small victory. A closer connection to the arcane power that flowed through him. With every thought of the possibilities of other magic branches, the urge to continue his arcane studies grew. He knew, ultimately, that he was more likely to perish from his immortal life over ever learning absolutely every aspect there was to magic; but he would go down as the being that understood magic to a far greater extent than any other living creature.
Within his infinite book, Warlic began to catalog a new section dedicated to the study of the power known as Chronomancy; the ability to control time itself. A branch of magic expanding to various other dimensions, yet not reaching some others at the same time. He wrote down its interactions with various other categories of magic, such as its strong sync with Ice magic and role in the formation of Magiscience. Each word written disappeared into the book, to be reviewed at a later date; knowledge consumed with thousands upon thousands of other categories, never to grace the eyes of simple men.
But his writing came to a halt when a voice yelled out, breaking the quiet of his tower walls with its sudden reverb. “Hey, old man, you have a visitor!” the voice of his apprentice, Nythera, called out from the entrance of the rift that connected Warlic’s tower to the outside world.
“One moment, Nythera,” the mage said back, far more gentle in tone than the half-dragon he took under his wing.
“Well, hurry it up! I don’t wanna catch the sniffles from lover boy over here!” once more, her voice carried in the brickwork of the tower, resounding out before all went quiet again.
“Sniffles?” that word caused the mage to ponder for a brief moment. Not so much the lover boy statement; he could guess without even needing to think out the person in question who Nythera was referring to. A mage of great, though untamed, potential, quickly raising to heroic fame ever since the Blue Mage helped him take that one step closer to achieving his destiny. And it was a feat the immortal mage was proud to have taken part in, in more than one way as time continued to march on.
With a few brisk and sure strokes of the quill, Warlic wrote down his train of thoughts before it eluded him for a later date, finishing the page before he closed the book and willed it away back to its secret area. One day, he would show this book to Nythera; but today was not that day, the book still so far from being even remotely complete.
Raising up from his seat, the mage took long, sure steps to the exit of his tower; the view of the rift becoming apparent, revealing the green trees of Lore on the other side. A quick evaluation of his robes to make sure they weren’t too horribly bundled from his prolonged seated position, a hand running through white hair, and a deep breath in and out later, Warlic took the step out into the open world. The sun made him squint his eyes, adjusting to the sudden brightness, but soon his sight returned to him to see two people standing just out of site from the rift’s entrance; his blue-haired, short-tempered apprentice and the taller—though not much so—blond man beside her, with a small, dark blue dragon snuggled comfortably in his arms.
And immediately, from first glances, the tired eyes and shaky hold on the dragon gave way to a state the guest tried his hardest to hide.
“Ah, hello Gren,” the Blue Mage greeted, face blank of any strong emotions at the moment. Approaching the man that suddenly seemed to spark to a tiny bit of life at the taller man’s presence, Warlic’s head turned to Nythera to address her briefly. “You are excused for now, Nythera. Thank you for notifying me.”
“Whatever,” the grumpy expression was clear on the apprentice’s face as she turned herself around and entered her own, smaller tent that lead back to her own home. The sooner she was away from the clearly lovesick and actually sick guest, the better; she couldn’t afford to get ill herself at this time, not when she had much to ponder on.
With the younger woman disappearing into the tent, the flap closing to keep to her privacy, Warlic’s gaze met with the shorter man’s sparkling eyes; but even with the clear joy the man known as Gren exuded, he couldn’t hide the aura of tired aching encompassing his being. A long sniff signaled the start of his comment. “Hey there, handso-” Gren started, beaming at the white-haired man, before breaking into a coughing fit with his attempt at a sing-song voice.
A frown painted Warlic’s face as he watched the man before him hack out for a good few seconds, before finally catching his breath. “You’re ill,” the Blue Mage stated first and foremost, the obvious elephant in the room.
“Nah, I’m fine! It’s just allergies!” Gren said after he cleared his throat, rubbing an eye of the tired droop. But a groan he attempted to hide, and the way the almost asleep baby dragon perked back to life with a concerned look adorning its features, clued Warlic in that it was clearly more than just that.
Taking a single step forward, Warlic gingerly placed his hand upon Gren’s forehead before the Ascendant could react, and laid his other upon the man’s shoulder to ensure he didn’t try pull away. The frown didn’t waver in the slightest when his hand was met with a potent warmth, not just from the forehead, but bleeding through the cloth on the lesser mage’s shoulder as well. Uncomfortable heat, and a shaky breath from the mage when he knew his lie didn’t have a chance to even be believed.
“Definitely ill, and not just a cold, either. Your temperature is too high for that,” Warlic’s voice was low, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked Gren straight into his eyes, purple brilliance meeting hazel depths.
“I’m fine, really, Warlic. Wouldn’t have come to see ya if I was that bad off!” Gren attempted to reassure, a hand raising up to lightly cup the hand of the the Blue Mage on his shoulder. Warlic’s skin was so much cooler in comparison to his own heated flesh.
Once more, Warlic was not swayed, simply giving a stern look as the hand on Gren’s forehead moved to cup his flushed cheek. “Gren, not to say I doubt your honesty, but you are the same man that once came to me nearly fainting from blood loss, yet still insisted you were right as rain.”
The already scarlet skin seemed to turn to an even deeper shade of red at the gentle gesture, Gren’s pupils growing larger as their eyes continued to intermingle. Lips parting for a split second before curling into a soft smile, Gren rubbed his cheek into the cupping hand, closing his eyes at the cool sensation of the Blue Mage’s flesh.
“What can I say? You’re a hard man to stay away from…” Gren practically purred, his voice soft and facial expression serene, in bliss at his lover’s delicate touch.
A light hum came from Warlic now, his thumb lightly grazing the soft cheek of the smaller man before him. But any attempt at a look of scolding failed; not just for the fact that Gren wasn’t paying attention to him, but because the look on the Ascendant’s face was far too beautiful to simply appear upset at. Even with skin a sickly pale with red tones dabbing features here and there, the man’s beauty couldn’t be lost on him.
Leaning forward now, the Blue Mage delicately pressed a kiss to the warm forehead, lips touching for a little over a second, before parting again briefly to press his forehead against Gren’s own. This made Gren flutter his eyes open again, the smile only growing more at the loving actions the more powerful man displayed.
“Flattering, my dear. But you should know by now, I would’ve understand not seeing your sweet face if it meant you were taking time to recover…” Warlic spoke, not in condemnation, but with hints of worry at his younger lover’s careless disregard of his own personal well being.
A squeeze of the hand still cupped over the Blue Mage’s own told Warlic there was a silent understanding. “I know… But I think I’d start getting withdrawals if I couldn’t see your own, handsome one for too long~” Gren said now, tongue cheekily poking from his smooth, pink lips.
Soft tsking sounded from Warlic, the position the two were in gradually drawing closer, until a light trill from the nearly forgotten dragon brought both men to their senses; they nearly squished the poor thing.
With that noted, Warlic parted their touching foreheads, but left the hand on the Ascendant’s shoulder; a connection still, but not one drowning in affection, lest little Solstice became forgotten again. His purple eyes now turn from soft to serious, his face not exactly a frown, but far more stern in appearance than it was moments before.
“I can’t let you wander off in your current state; you’ve probably aggravated that fever with moving around. And knowing you, if I left you to your own devices, you’d find trouble,” Warlic said flatly, but still, compassion fueled his voice. “Come with me. I’ll get you a blanket and some pillows, and brew up some tea to soothe your no doubt sore throat, given the light hoarseness I hear.”
A small giggle came from the blond man, but he simply obeyed the command, following the older man into the rift leading to his tower. “You baby me too much, Warlic~” he tried again for sing-song, but the light rasp failed to make it sound appealing.
“Someone has to, since you seem to refuse to,” the Blue Mage simply stated, continuing on ahead until the two were in the living room portion of Warlic’s half of the tower; one designated for the rare guests he did have every now and then. “Please, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”
“Oki-” a start again, cut short by another coughing fit. The light pat on Gren’s back from Warlic in encouragement to find rest over conversation signaled to him that it was probably best not to aggravate his voice any further with attempting to fake sounding pleasant anymore. With a groan, Gren plopping himself down on the couch, rubbing his eyes once again to relieve, if only ever so briefly, the fatigue clinging to them.
With a hum of satisfaction at the younger man positioning himself more comfortably, his dragon, Solstice making worried noises of its own in the lesser mage’s lap, the Blue Mage nodded and turned himself around to allocate a warm blanket and multitude of pillows to the sickly man. It was a simple matter of going to his bedroom and opening up the large, infinitely spacious wardrobe within his sleeping quarters to located the spare objects, and soon, he was back with a huge, folded quilt and two soft, fury feather pillows sitting atop.
The two pillows were placed at one arm of the couch for Gren to rest his head upon, while the quilt was draped gingerly over the smaller man and his beloved dragon. The shuffling under the fabric of the dragon moving out from underneath the quilt to once more seat itself atop the lesser mage’s lap, unobstructed from view, caused Warlic to let out a little chuckle.
“Now, for your tea. Lay down and rest your eyes, my dear. I shall be right back,” Warlic’s tone was still ever so gentle as he bent down once more to press a kiss to Gren’s forehead.
“Mmph,” was all the mage hummed, looking up tiredly at the Blue Mage before positioning himself and his dragon in a laying position, head practically sinking into the down of the pillow.
With his younger lover now thoroughly relaxed and settled, Warlic set off to the kitchen to begin his task of brewing forth some herbal tea, infused with healing magic to help speed along the recovery process. The task of creating tea was more tedious to the every man, lengthy and full of complicated steps, but thankfully, Warlic was not like the every man. Magic was at his fingertips, which greatly aided the creation progress.
Indeed, the numerous steps that usually took careful preparation was done within thirty minutes, the tea releasing a soothing aroma as a cupful was poured out for the sicker man. Placed gingerly atop a warming saucer to ensure the tea was always at a pleasant heat, Warlic finished up the tea with his own touch; a small amount of honey, for flavor, and a wave of the hand, infusing the liquid with the special healing properties.
With the tea done, Warlic relocated himself to the living room, finding to his pleasant surprise that the younger man had fallen asleep, instead of trying to force himself awake. Little Solstice had also joined their father in rest, the slow rise and fall of the two’s chests signifying to him a peaceful rest.
Smiling softly at the two resting figures, Warlic carefully sat the tea down atop the table, glad he predicted right to use the proper saucer to keep the tea warm until young Gren awakened. Once the tea was settled in place, the Blue Mage walked beside the arm of the couch that laid the lesser mage’s head, and gingerly parted a lock of the blond hair away from the relaxed face.
“Rest well, my dear.”
Hours passed, the day turning to darkness, the world beginning to settle in slumber. Warlic had been hard at work, continuing his documentations from earlier. Throughout the day, he had to pause and scold his apprentice for yelling whenever he had a visitor, lest she awoken the ill man from his slumber; thankfully, though, the worst Gren did was stir a little before promptly snoozing back into his deep slumber. The day was as busy as to be expected from a mage of Warlic’s caliber; various upcoming heroes visiting him for advice, on quests to forward their own names, the typical shebang.
It wasn’t until the fireflies finally came out that Warlic closed the flaps of his tent, signifying to anyone who decided to drop in at this odd hour that the Blue Mage was now wishing not to be disturbed. At this time, the older man decided now would be a good time to start on dinner; a nice minestrone soup sounded particularly appealing this night, and soon he was off to work preparing the ingredients for cooking.
Forty minutes in, the soup now bubbling atop the stove and the last of the vegetables added to the broth, was Warlic finally greeted with a small presence landing atop his counter and sounding out a light chirp.
“Well, hello there, little Solstice,” Warlic didn’t even need to look at the creature to know it was the dragon; the noises it made, plus the deep blue that caught the corner of the mage’s eyes was all the tell he needed.
“Hello yourself, infernal one,” the normally indecipherable language of the dragon sounded out clear to Warlic, due to his years of studying the draconic tongue without the need of possessing a Dragon Amulet, like Gren so did.
“Still hesitant of me, I see,” Warlic sighed as he placed the lid on top of the pot, letting the soup cook now.
“I will be hesitant for as long as I can feel those fires in your soul, aching for release,” Solstice responded, head turning as the Blue Mage walked over to seat himself at the kitchen table.
“You really need not to worry yourself, chaotic one. I’ve had my infernal half under control for millenias now, I do not anticipate losing control.”
“And Gren didn’t anticipate falling ill after visiting Dragsvard, but look at him now. Expectations do not meet reality in every circumstance.”
“True. But, with all due respect, I am no mere human like Gren is; I am more in tuned with my fate than he is at this point.”
“Spoken with true arrogance, infernal one.”
Another sigh, a pinch of his nose’s bridge as the Blue Mage settled his arm atop the table. “I do not wish to argue with you, chaotic one. I could bounce back at you your very own darker nature, but I choose not to. Not when Gren places such faith in you that you two will be a force for good.”
“There is a difference between you and I. Chaos does not equate to the evils your kind’s destructive nature entails. It simply mean I am an unpredictable force; you, however, are a dangerous entity in disguise, yearning to break free of that fragile form you’ve taken.”
Irritation was beginning to bubble in Warlic now, but he couldn’t deny that right the young dragon had to be weary of him. Indeed, something felt… off, as of recent with his form. He didn’t dare think on it, didn’t dare dwell on it, but part of him felt so distant, felt detached. But he figured, if it truly was something as sinister as losing control of his darker side, his sheer will would keep it in check for long enough to discover a way to make two halves whole again.
He had to. He couldn’t risk losing himself now, not when he felt he was finally recovering from what he did those two hundred years ago to his beloved Jaania.
“But, needless to say, I’m not here to scold you as much as I ended up doing so,” Solstice continued now, their tone taking a more reserved approach. “I came here to… grant you thanks, for helping with Gren. I always do worry when the boy falls ill; like you said, he’s not like you and I. He’s a human, so fragile even with his potential.”
“I did like any good samaritan would do, even if the circumstances of our relationship was different.”
“Oh, so you would’ve have kissed him still, then?”
“You know what I mean, little one.”
A lithe laugh came from the dragon, squeaky and adorable. “Of course, I only tease. I may be hesitant with your existance, Blue Mage, but do know I do not hate you. I am only cautious for my bond’s delicate heart. But, needless to say, he has put his utter faith and devotion to you; one I can only hope you’ll be able to uphold.”
“I do not plan on failing him, Solstice, if that is what you are going on about. While it’s true, a part of me still misses the girl I fell for all those years ago, I can safely say my heart belongs to Gren now.”
“That… isn’t exactly what I had thought of, but I suppose that’s good to hear, in any case,” Solstice said as they laid themselves upon the counter, blank yellow eyes unwavering on the mage.
Before Warlic could question the dragon further, a series of sneezes from the other room notified the two that the man in question had finally awoken. Raising up from his seat, Warlic gave one last look to the dragon before saying quietly, “We shall discuss this another day.”
The nod from the smaller creature was all the confirmation the Blue Mage needed before he left the room to join up with the ill man once more.
“Hello, Gren,” Warlic started, carefully watching the volume of his voice in the off chance that Gren awoken with a headache. “How are you feeling now that you’ve rested?”
“Like I could sleep another hour or twenty,” Gren croaked, his voice much more hoarse than it was earlier. He was seated up now, with the cup of tea from earlier now in his grip, taking ginger sips from it. “Thank you for the tea.”
“Of course, my dear. Dinner will be ready soon, as well; I will bring you out a bowl once it is done,” the Blue Mage said, seating himself beside the smaller man. Once again, his hand found its way to the man’s forehead, and he could only frown when it felt like the fever had gotten worse. “Good thing I enchanted the tea…”
“I’m not really that hungry, but thank you, nonetheless.”
“You should still try to eat, though. It’s not good for the recovery if your body doesn’t have nourishment,” was all Warlic said at that statement, withdrawing his hand away from the forehead.
Gren didn’t care to argue, simply nodding his head as he yawned and rubbed his eye once more. Not long after that, little Solstice rejoined with the two men, sitting himself once more upon Gren’s lap and purring all the while. “Oh, well there you are, Solstice! Were you pestering Warlic again, you naughty thing?”
“Who, me? Never!” the dragon replied jovially, as if the previous conversation in the kitchen never occurred.
Dinner was finished without any major events following it. While the soup cooked, the two men had talked about various events going on in both of their’s life; some more embarrassing than others, especially at the expense of one chaotic dragon. But the soup came out to be fantastic, bursting with flavor; at least, to Warlic, anyway. Gren was too sick at the moment to really appreciate the taste, but he could tell his body was already feeling the effects of getting filled up after eating nothing but some buttered toast all day. Though, Solstice admitted to the mage with his own little bowl that soup was “far better than expected.”
Warlic had eaten his dinner with the sick man, keeping him company all the while. When everyone was done, he took all of their bowls and headed once more in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess and putting away what remained of the soup for a later date. Once finished, Warlic was shocked to see Gren had rose up from the couch, his bag once more slung over his shoulder.
“Where are you going?” was Warlic’s first question as the man approached him with shaky steps, Solstice following behind in the air with a worried expression on their face.
“I think I’ve bothered you enough for one day. I’m heading back home. Thanks a bunch for letting me rest here for the day-”
“Stay.”
Slow blinks followed at the command, Gren looking up at the mage in surprise. “Pardon?”
“You’re far too ill to be leaving at this hour. I insist; stay for the night.”
“Really, Warlic, I’ll be fine! My house isn’t that far from the portal back to Falconreach, nothing bad should-”
“Gren, I think it would be wise to listen to the Blue Mage. You can barely keep yourself afoot, I don’t know if you’d be able to make the trek back to home,” Solstice piped up now, landing themself upon Gren’s shoulder.
“Aw, you too, Sol? Jeez, can’t win, can I…” Gren sighed, before smiling weakly at the little dragon perched upon him. “Good thing I have you two looking out for me, huh?”
With this, Gren once more turned to grace the older mage with the smile. “Alright, I’ll humor you, cutie pie. On one condition, though, if you’ll humor me in return…”
“Name your price.”
“I get to join you in your bed tonight. Get all snuggly snuggly.”
A snort and smirk of surprise from the Blue Mage made the smile on Gren’s features only broaden. “Well, how can I deny a lovely request like that? Of course, my dear; whatever makes your healing process that much easier on you.”
One little laugh later at his victory, Gren let his bag slip from his person back onto the ground as he walked up to embrace the taller mage. “Thank you, sweetheart~ I know I’ll sleep soundly knowing I’ll have my strong man next to me~”
A chuckle of his own escaped Warlic’s lips as he returned the gesture, resting his chin upon blond locks. “Well, don’t keep me waiting then. Get yourself comfy, my dear, I’ll be with you in one moment.”
With the break of the embrace, the two’s lips pressed for a quick kiss before Gren and Solstice wandered off into Warlic’s sleeping quarters. Warlic, as he said, remained behind just long enough to make sure his written works were secure and the light orbs were turned off throughout the tower; or at least, on his side, anyway. He didn’t dare go into the chaos that was Cysero’s half of the tower.
With everything situated, the tower becoming encased in shadows to ease one to sleep, Warlic made his way to the one light source that remained on; his bedroom. Once entered, he could see Gren was already curled up comfortably under the sheets, eyes closed and face serene, and Solstice laying atop of him once more, curled up like a cat.
The Blue Mage wasted no time stripping down out of his robes and slipping into something more comfortable, not feeling nervous to do so around his younger lover. The two had already intermingled with the body once before, they were not ignorant of how one another looked with the absence of clothing.
But it wasn’t long before the bed creaked with Warlic’s added weight, the light orb lamp on the stand beside the bed turned off, and his body tucked in underneath the blankets to join with Gren. Once Warlic was situated, he could feel the warmth of the body next to him intermingle, turning around to scoot closer to the Blue Mage.
A flushed face cuddled into the crevice of the throat, rubbing softly as the younger man adjusted to snuggle with his older lover. “Love you~” the hoarse voice attempted to sing song, but broke into another string of coughs as a result.
A couple of pats of the back later, with the coughing fit having died down, Warlic pressed his face into the soft locks as he breathed in deeply. The scent of strawberries was still present on the man’s hair; beautiful, just like he was.
“Love you too.”
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