Amnesia, Daniel/Alexander, NC-17 Part One of Two
Title: Dreams Still Follow Storylines
Pairing: Daniel/Alexander
Summary: Based on THIS prompt from amnesiakink. Daniel takes too much laudanum and Alexander has to take care of him.
Warnings: Drug use, explicit sexual content.
Author: blacktofade
Words: 7,211 / 15,721
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Read in one post at AO3. Fulfils the sleepy/unconscious square for THIS kinkbingo card. Please feel free to point out any mistakes/offer concrit.
Disclaimer: I am not associated with Amnesia or any of their affiliates. I don't mean any harm, this is all made up.
The rings around his eyes seem to deepen with each night that passes without allowing him the slightest rest. He sees them every time he passes a looking glass, reminding him of his sleep-deprived state and how unstable he feels, his hands shaking and head thrumming. It eats away at his concentration and he doesn’t even realise Alexander’s speaking until he clears his throat loudly, startling Daniel from his thoughts.
“Are you well, Daniel?” Alexander asks as he cleans his fingers on his serviette. Daniel swallows his mouthful of chicken carefully, before wiping his mouth and answering.
“Of course,” he lies, not wishing to put upon Alexander’s already ample generosity with unnecessary requests. “What would make you think otherwise?”
Alexander sips at his wine, keeping the glass perched precariously between steepled fingers, his gaze never wavering from Daniel’s face.
“If you are not sleeping well, you need only say. This is a large castle with far more strange creaks and noises found in any other home. I remember staying with my Aunt here when I was younger and I never slept a wink without a glass of whiskey before retiring for the night. Of course, it takes more than that to have the same effects these days.”
Daniel smiles politely at the anecdote, entirely unable to picture Alexander as a young boy, and drops his gaze to the tabletop to gather his thoughts. Before he can find the right words to speak, Alexander saves him the trouble.
“I shall leave a small dose of laudanum in the guestroom, which you may help yourself to if you so wish.”
Daniel is truly grateful for the hospitality and he has no difficulty sounding genuine when he lifts his eyes and murmurs a soft, “Thank you.”
Alexander tilts his glass slightly in response and subtly switches the conversation to a lighter subject before Daniel even has the chance to realise.
*
The bottle sits innocuously on the bedside as promised when he retires to his quarters for the night. He shuts and locks the door before slipping into his nightclothes and padding softly to the bed, where the overstuffed pillows and thick duvet welcome him with open arms. He unstoppers the medicine and tips the bitter liquid into his mouth, swallowing quickly to keep the taste from sticking to his tongue. He sets the empty phial where he found it and crawls under the sheets, thankful for the heated coals in the bed-warmer Alexander must have slipped under the covers earlier. He has about enough time to lean over and extinguish his candle before the mix of exhaustion and laudanum hits him and his head seems to melt straight into his pillows as he finally falls fast asleep.
*
“You seem rested, Daniel,” Alexander says casually, placing another large tome on the desk, allowing Daniel to tug it closer and glance at the title. He opens it, flipping through the first few pages, as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “I take it the laudanum agreed with you.”
“I couldn’t have asked for a better night’s sleep,” Daniel replies, finally looking up, and Alexander offers a faint smile before responding.
“I am glad to hear it. Shall I leave more at your bedside for tonight?”
Daniel shakes his head negatively, hair falling out of place once more.
“Thank you, Baron, but it is not necessary. I have heard tales of addiction and as much as I would like to continue sleeping well, I fear for my health in the long run.”
“I see. Of course,” is Alexander’s only reply as they turn back to the task at hand, the topic falling out of their reach.
*
As Daniel predicts, he doesn’t sleep at all that night, nor the following, for as long as it takes for the dark circles around his eyes to return. This time, when Alexander notices them, he is not as forgiving and seems almost agitated by the sight before him.
“I cannot allow your lack of rest to interfere with our work, Daniel,” he says as they sit sipping brandy in front of a large hearth. “It is not my place to pry, but when my attempts to keep you safe are in jeopardy, I cannot sit idly by.”
Daniel bows his head in shame, knowing the Baron is right; he almost killed their most recent convict today, all because of a careless mistake he would never have made if entirely well-rested.
“Forgive me,” he replies quietly. “It will not happen again.”
When he finds the small bottle of laudanum waiting for him that night, he takes it without ever thinking twice and although he wakes late the next morning, Alexander seems anything but angry.
*
Alexander eventually stops asking if Daniel would like more laudanum, the medication already there at Daniel’s bedside each and every night.
He takes it, now used to the unique taste, and slides into bed, ready for the feeling of tiredness to weigh down his limbs and tip him over into sleep. However, as he lies there, nothing happens, and it is almost as though he hasn’t taken anything at all. He leans across to hold the bottle up in the beam of moonlight that shines through his window, double-checking the label to make sure it’s truly laudanum that he took, but the word is there before his face, and he is no closer to understanding. It sets it back down on the low table and rolls onto his side, shutting his eyes and hoping that it will help.
Yet hours roll by, the clock down the hall, chiming midnight, one, two, three, and by the time it strikes four o’clock, he is beyond exasperated. He kicks off the covers and slips from the bed, tugging on his trousers underneath his nightshirt before leaving his room and making his way down the hall to the study, where he knows there will be plenty of books to distract him until a more reasonable hour.
Surprisingly, when he steps through the doorway of one of the rooms, he finds a candle already burning brightly, Alexander sitting on one of the settees, a book in hand, reading quietly.
“Daniel?” he says sounding almost surprised.
Daniel stands frozen for a long moment, cursing his decision to not dress properly before he can finally bring himself to answer, the truth spilling out of him before he can stop it.
“I could not sleep.”
“Did you not take the laudanum again?”
“No, I did,” he admits, stepping further into the room and trailing his fingertips over the spines of the books on a shelf to take his mind off Alexander’s steady gaze. “It just didn’t seem to work.”
Alexander hums quietly in thought before turning his attention back to the book in his hands.
“You are welcome to join me here. Shall I call for tea?”
Daniel finds the text he’s been looking for and tugs it free, glancing over his shoulder at Alexander.
“No, no,” he insists. “Unless you wish for some yourself, I am content to just read.”
Alexander lightly touches the cushion beside him and Daniel doesn’t hesitate before walking over and taking a seat, trying to be unobtrusive as he looks over to see the title of Alexander’s reading choice. Daniel’s surprised to find that it’s a spiritual text about the power of one’s soul, but can’t bring himself to comment; he’s sure Alexander has his reasons and it’s not his place to question.
Without thinking, Daniel curls his legs up beside him, flipping open his book and beginning to read. He feels the tingling of Alexander’s gaze on him, but remains focused, the words drawing him in until everything else slips away.
*
The circles return after another three sleepless nights, but on the fourth, a second phial of laudanum appears alongside the first, as though Alexander already knows its effects are weakening on him.
It takes Daniel a fifth night of no rest before he finally succumbs and downs them in quick succession. He doesn’t even make it under the covers before he passes out this time.
*
When Daniel wakes, it takes him a moment to realise that he’s not in the guestroom, but instead sprawled across the tabletop in Alexander’s library. There’s no moisture in his throat and his tongue is stuck firmly to the roof of his mouth. He lets out a faint noise of discomfort and rubs groggily at his face before finally sitting up and assessing the damage. It seems he’s used a large botanical text as a pillow as he feels an imprint of the book’s spine down the length of his cheek. He’s only in his nightshirt and his feet are far from warm.
“Ah, you are awake,” comes a smooth, steady voice from behind and Daniel turns his head to find Alexander lingering in the doorway, holding a tray with enough tea and assorted of breakfast foods for two. He knows the deep shame he feels colours his face, but he can do nothing to help it.
“Begging your pardon, Baron Brennenburg,” he begins, voice deeper and rougher with sleep than he expects it to be. “I, myself, am unsure how I came to be here in this state.”
Surprisingly, Alexander doesn’t appear to be angry, rather he lets out a quiet sigh that sounds rather much like regret.
“I fear it is I who should be asking for forgiveness, Daniel,” Alexander says, stepping closer and setting the tray near Daniel’s thigh as Daniel swings his bare legs over the side of the table, letting them hang uselessly. “Foolishly, I did not warn you this might happen as a result of a doubled dose of laudanum. If I had, this unfortunate situation may have been avoided.”
Regrettably, it doesn’t help take away any of Daniel’s embarrassment, the burn of a deep flush still tingling across his cheeks.
“Excuse me,” he mutters faintly with the hopes that he can sink through the floor into the guestroom and change quick enough to trick his mind into believing Alexander never saw him in such a state of undress.
“I took the liberty,” Alexander says quickly, stopping Daniel from leaving the room with a hand around his wrist, “of bringing you a dressing gown. I had hoped we could eat together before I have to take a trip into town this morning.”
As much as Daniel wishes he could deny him and take the time to bathe and dress, he cannot, there’s not enough time, and so he takes the proffered cover, slipping it over his shoulders and tying the material belt tightly around his waist. There is no doubt in his mind that the clothing belongs to Alexander himself, the hem almost touching the floor, much longer than it would be if it had been tailored to suit Daniel instead. What takes Daniel by surprise is the scent that reaches his nose as he folds back the collar carefully, pulling his hair out of the way. It is unmistakeably Alexander’s soap, the same faint perfume that greets Daniel each morning when Alexander passes him at the breakfast table.
Without thinking, he lets his hands slide into the pockets, finding a loose coin and a folded piece of paper, which he has to refrain from immediately pulling out and reading to sate his curiosity.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, slipping into a seat at the desk and taking the steaming cup Alexander offers him. He blows into once before taking a tentative sip, trying not to burn his tongue as he swallows the first soothing mouthful; it’s made just the way he always prepares it himself in the mornings: one sugar and just a splash of milk. When he glances over the rim, he finds Alexander watching him, though he blinks and looks away when Daniel catches him, reaching over for a plate of pastries instead.
“You are feeling no after-effects, I take it?”
“Not so far.”
He watches as Alexander cleanly cuts through a soft croissant and carefully spreads a thin layer of butter.
“You are sure you remember nothing of how you ended up here?”
Daniel takes another warming mouthful of tea as he thinks, keeping his cool fingers wrapped around the heated china.
“I remember taking the laudanum and getting into bed, but nothing beyond that.”
He watches Alexander chew slowly, noting his glassy eyes as though he’s deep in thought.
“You are not hurt anywhere, are you? This castle is not the safest place for sleepwalkers.”
Alexander’s concern takes him by surprise and he lowers his eyes as the Baron’s attention turns back to him, his gaze once more clear and bright. He shakes his head negatively; he doesn’t feel pain anywhere, there’s just the ache down the side of his face from an unforgiving pillow.
“Do you remember dreaming at all?”
Daniel shakes his head negatively again, watching Alexander wipe his fingers on a serviette and wash his mouthful down with a sip of his own tea.
“Let us see if it happens again tonight,” he says, standing and passing over his plate that still has half a croissant on it. He sets it front of Daniel and gently touches his shoulder. “I cannot stay a moment longer or I shall be late for my scheduled engagement in town. Take the day to relax; some time off will not harm our progress.”
Daniel nods silently and finds himself unable to blink and look away as Alexander leaves, shooting one last brief glance back at Daniel over his shoulder.
*
When night falls, Daniel finds himself apprehensive about taking the doubled dose of laudanum, but eventually swallows the medicine down knowing it’s what Alexander wants of him. Unfortunately, when he wakes just as the grandfather clock chimes two in the morning, he discovers he has once more ventured from the guestroom and he’s crouched beneath a low side table, knees drawn up, as though he’s hiding from someone or something. He lets out a soft curse of embarrassment and tries his best to slip noiselessly from undercover; however, it seems nothing in his life can be simple as he accidentally knocks his shoulder into the table, before he’s able to clear the edge. He glances behind just in time to see a vase wobble precariously on the surface, before it tips and plummets to the floor, shattering into pieces upon contact.
He winces at the noise and stumbles a few steps back into the banister, gripping the wood with drug-weakened fingers, unable to do anything more than stare at the mess. There’s a faint click and the unmistakeable squeak of a turning handle as the door to Daniel’s right slowly opens, revealing Alexander, robe thrown on haphazardly, tiredness and confusion clear in his expression.
“Daniel?” he asks around a half-stifled yawn. “Is everything okay?”
Daniel blinks, gaze moving from Alexander to the broken vase and back again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I woke up under the table and - ”
He cuts himself off as shame rises high in the throat and sits heavily on his tongue; he swallows thickly.
Alexander ties the cloth belt around his waist and steps forward, looking anything but angry.
“You’ve made progress,” he begins, losing Daniel completely until he clarifies. “At least you weren’t on the table this time.”
Daniel doesn’t know if he should laugh or not and ends up letting out a hiccough instead.
“Come,” Alexander continues, taking a hold of Daniel’s arm gently and easing him away from the banister, leading him back in the direction of the guestroom. “What’s done is done. There’s no need to dwell on the past. It was not the prettiest of vases in any case.”
Daniel stumbles slightly, but Alexander keeps him upright, one hand on his elbow, the other quickly wrapping around his waist, long fingers pressing into his hip until he gets his footing once more. By the time they reach the staircase leading up to the guestroom, Daniel feels as though he could fall asleep at any moment, his feet dragging and head lolling forward.
“Stay awake, Daniel,” Alexander orders, shifting Daniel’s weight, letting him lean against his side as they begin to climb the stairs. Daniel only just manages to let out a faint noise of agreement, legs feeling like lead as he lifts them, following Alexander’s slow lead. His head rests comfortably on Alexander’s shoulder, his nose gently brushing the curve of his neck, and the smell of his hair is slightly intoxicating. He sighs in contentment, breathing warmly against Alexander’s skin, and the arm around his waist momentarily tightens, holding him in place.
“Alexander,” he murmurs, voice barely louder than a breath and Alexander hums in question.
“Yes, Daniel?”
Daniel opens his mouth to respond, but his lips graze across Alexander’s throat and he knows it would be so easy to dip his head down and find out if he tastes exactly as he smells. Unfortunately, Alexander shifts his grip on Daniel, fingers pinching the skin on his side, causing him to fidget and move away, hissing in pain.
“Forgive me,” Alexander drawls, softening his touch immediately, drawing Daniel back to his side, helping him through another doorway. Distantly, he realises that they’re in the parlour attached to the guestroom, heat emanating from the still-burning fire, and it’s only a few more shuffling steps before they enter the bedroom.
The space is dark until Alexander sets him on the edge of the mattress and lights a candle on the bedside. He crouches down in front of Daniel and leans in, gently prising one closed eye open, his other hand resting heavy and warm upon Daniel’s thigh. Daniel lets out a noise of annoyance, trying to bat the fingers away from his face, and eventually Alexander concedes.
“’m fine,” he mumbles, finally meeting Alexander’s gaze. “I just need to go back to sleep.”
Alexander hums, but Daniel can’t tell if it means he agrees or not, so instead of talking further, he slumps back against the pillows and kicks the covers down so he can crawl under them. Alexander stands at his side, tugging the hem of Daniel’s nightshirt down over his thighs where it’s ridden up before pulling the sheets and thick duvet over Daniel’s body, helping to tuck him back in.
“Don’t let me sleepwalk again,” he says, trying to touch Alexander on the shoulder as he leans over, but only succeeding in tangling his fingers in his hair. Alexander grunts, gripping Daniel’s wrist tightly to stop him from making it worse while he carefully unravels loose strands from around his knuckles. “Sorry,” he apologises, watching with half-closed eyes, but Alexander doesn’t seem to be at all annoyed with him, just sets Daniel’s now-free hand back on the bed and pulls away.
“It’s not sleepwalking,” Alexander says at last, smoothing out the blankets under his hands. “It’s a side effect of the laudanum.
“Comforting,” Daniel replies, already half-asleep, face turned away from the light of the candle, hand cradled on his pillow, smelling faintly of Alexander’s soap. He hears Alexander’s faint laugh and feels fingers carefully brushing hair away from his temple, but can’t muster the energy to respond before he’s finally tugged under the rolling wave of unconsciousness.
*
The morning brings fresh snow and Daniel stands at the guestroom’s widow overlooking Brennenburg forest, fingertips presses against the cool glass, his breath fogging up the pane until he has to wipe the condensation away. When he first spots movement, he thinks it’s a deer stumbling out of the woods in search of edible foliage, however, the longer he watches the figure, the clearer it becomes and he eventually realises it’s a person - more specifically, Alexander. He has no idea why the Baron would be venturing outside, especially in such weather, but he appears to be content, slowly strolling until he reaches a small wooden bench, which he wipes off and eventually sits upon.
It only takes Daniel a few minutes to dress in clothes that he hopes will keep him warm long enough to hold a conversation with Alexander. As an afterthought, he grabs a scarf hanging by the door and ties it snugly around his neck before making his way down to the front entrance. The wind whips cool air straight into his face as he pushes open the door and steps outside; he tugs the scarf up over his mouth and nose and his breath keeps him warmer, even as his eyes water.
He follows Alexander’s footprints in the snow, easily finding the man exactly where he saw him from his window and he doesn’t appear at all surprised.
“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” he begins, voice muffled from behind the woollen warmth.
“Not at all,” he replies and Daniel takes a seat next to him, shifting against the remnants of snow beneath him. “I was just wondering when you’d make your way downstairs. After last night, I should think you’d like to catch up on as much sleep as possible.”
“Last night?”
Alexander laughs, his breath clouding up in front of them.
“I’m just glad you woke up, as I hardly think the floor under that table would have made you feel at all well rested this morning had you not.”
“I’m sorry?” Daniel asks, genuinely confused. He doesn’t remember a thing about the night before, especially nothing Alexander seems to be hinting at.
“You don’t remember? You accidentally knocked a vase over which woke me. You seemed entirely disorientated so I helped you back to your room, where you promptly fell back asleep.”
Not even the cold can fight off the burning of his face as he flushes with shame and rubs at his skin with shaking fingers.
“Oh god,” he says quietly. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
“Daniel, you must stop apologising for events you cannot change.”
Daniel almost apologises again, but catches himself at the last second.
“Let me repay you for the vase; it’s the least I can do.”
Alexander waves his hand to dismiss the notion.
“I have lost count of how many vases I own. I certainly won’t notice one less.”
Alexander’s kindness is far greater than he’d ever thought it could be and it’s with a nod that he holds his hand out; Alexander shakes it firmly, his own palm warm and dry against his own.
“Thank you,” he says, meaning every word. “For everything.”
“It is not a problem, Daniel. However, what is a problem is the fact that you cannot remember. You are certain you remember nothing? It may just be an effect of the laudanum.”
Daniel takes a moment to think, trying to recall anything from the night, but nothing comes to mind. He shakes his head slowly with disappointment.
“I don’t remember a thing.”
“You responded to conversations last night, though, which means you were not entirely unaware. Perhaps the medication is a mild amnesiac.”
The idea disturbs Daniel more than he thinks, his mind jumping to an image of him attempting to leap from his window and never even knowing. Perhaps the Baron would hear his anguished cries and come to his room to find Daniel’s nightgown billowing in the night breeze as he threatens to let go of the sill and plummet to his death to avoid The Shadow. Daniel would never know unless Alexander told him the next morning. If he ever decided to, that is.
Daniel shivers, not at all from the cold, but Alexander fidgets with the collar of Daniel’s coat and stands, tugging gently for Daniel to follow.
“Let us return inside where it is warmer. It is much easier to think when one can feel their feet.”
Daniel smiles politely, but can’t help but fall into his thoughts as they slowly head back to the castle, his mind a whorl of worry.
*
Daniel almost doesn’t take his medication that night, still full of anxiety over what he might do while drugged and unconscious, but exhaustion from working with convicts all afternoon gives him no choice than to unstopper the bottles and down the contents. He collapses into bed and half-heartedly attempts to draw the blankets up, but loses the motivation when his arms turn to lead and he doesn’t have the strength to lift them anymore.
When he wakes, the first beginnings of light are seeping into the castle and he’s standing in the main entrance, the front door slightly ajar letting in the cold for no apparent reason. He’s still only in his nightshirt, his legs and arms entirely bare to the wind’s chill as he finally shuts the door and rubs his palms together to attempt to restore feeling to them. He doesn’t realises there’s anything wrong until he tries taking a step and almost falls face-first to the floor.
There’s a faint puddle of water around his bare feet and his toes are splotched with red and white marks. Nothing seems to be different until he lifts one foot and realises he can’t feel it at all. For a second he thinks his skin is burning hot, as it tingles and prickles uncomfortably, but when he bends down and touches them, they’re icy. A noise of pained shock escapes his lips and he tries his best to hobble further away from the door as cold air still seems to worm its way under it.
It’s unnerving to walk and not feel it, the numb sensation reaching up to his ankles where it itches ceaselessly and he wants nothing more than to sit on the stone floor and scratch at his skin. However, he can see the stairs from where he is and he slowly drags himself towards them with careful steps. He doesn’t know how he’ll climb them, but by the time he reaches the bottom step, the top stair creak and he looks up to find Alexander making his way down.
“Daniel?” he calls out and relief floods through Daniel without warning.
“I’m here,” he replies, and he knows his voice is shaking audibly because the noise of footsteps quickens and Alexander’s at his side before his words can stop echoing around the room.
“What happened?”
“I woke up just inside the entranceway; I think I was outside in the snow without my shoes, but I don’t know how long I was out there. It hurts, Alexander,” he admits, panic rising in his chest, and Alexander slides an arm around his waist, propping him up before he can even think to protest out of modesty.
“We need to warm them up,” he says quickly, easily helping Daniel up the stairs and leading him back towards the guestroom. “It does not look like frostbite, yet, but we must make haste.”
Daniel grips Alexander’s shoulder and tries to keep as much weight off his feet as possible as he’s not sure how long they’ll hold out. Alexander doesn’t seem to mind, or if he does, he never mentions it, his pace quick and steady. He nudges the bedroom door open with his elbow and helps Daniel slide into bed, settling his feet and gingerly checking to feel how cold they actually are.
“Wait here,” he tells him as though Daniel even has a choice, while he moves to scoop a small shovel-full of glowing coals from the burnt-out fire and empties them into a nearby bed-warmer. He brings it over and slips it under the covers beside Daniel’s feet; Daniel can’t feel the warmth yet, but he knows it will help.
The rest of his body begins to shake with cold now as it seeps under his skin and Alexander sheds his own dressing gown, throwing it over Daniel’s chest and Daniel finds himself tucking his arms into the spaces that are still warm from Alexander’s own body heat. It’s a small comfort, but it makes him feel a little better nonetheless.
“I know it will hurt,” Alexander begins worryingly, “but we must warm your feet up.”
Daniel nods once, hoping the remnants of laudanum will take the edge off as Alexander leans over and gently clasps one of his feet between his palms. He begins to rub, transferring his own warmth across and, almost immediately, it starts to sting. He wants nothing more than to pull away and suffer alone, but instead, he bites hit bottom lip with enough pressure that he tastes blood, and lets Alexander continue.
He alternates from foot to foot, carefully rubbing each toe individually, palms cupping around the balls of his feet, and eventually, Daniel begins to feel the soft sensation of Alexander’s skin against his own.
“It’s working,” Daniel says between chattering teeth and Alexander glances up, something akin to appeasement on his face; he continues rubbing and Daniel presses his feet into the steady grip. When the stinging finally abates and the tingling begins, Alexander slips Daniel’s legs under the covers, keeping the heated coals close by to let them spread warmth the rest of the way.
“Stay still for just a moment longer,” Alexander requests quietly as he walks to the door and disappears from sight.
When he returns, he’s holding a length of bandage that makes Daniel’s eyes widen in surprise.
“There’s really no need,” he explains, holding up his hands and attempting to wave him away. “They’ll be fine now.”
“I have a salve to keep the skin from drying out and to keep the pain away for now.”
He raises a small pot up and Daniel finds himself leaning back into his pillows in submission, his will to argue vanishing as exhaustion curls around him and leaves him wanting nothing more than to return to sleep. Alexander seems to take his silence for permission as he reaches under the blankets for Daniel’s feet, gently coating each sole in a layer of cool gel before wrapping them, fastening the bandages with small pins that keep the cloth snug. Once done, he returns Daniel’s feet back to the warmth and sits back, wiping his sticky hands on the edge of the robe still draped over Daniel.
“You will be okay,” he murmurs and Daniel doesn’t know if Alexander just wants to say it out loud or for Daniel’s benefit, so he just nods as though it’s a question.
“Thank you,” he says and realises Alexander must be truly sick of hearing him apologise as he’s said it so much recently.
Alexander tips his head and moves away from the bed, taking a step back.
“I shall leave you to rest. Do not hesitate to ring for help should you require assistance.”
“Your robe,” Daniel says quickly, but Alexander waves a hand.
“You could use the extra warmth,” he explains as he finally tugs the sheets up over Daniel’s waist and settles them carefully. Daniel wants to clarify that it’s his feet that are damaged and not his hands; he can tuck himself in without help, but never says a word, just watches as Alexander takes the candle from the bedside and walks to the door.
“Sleep well,” he says as he slips out the door and leaves Daniel blinking in the low light, fingers tangled in the soft fabric of Alexander’s robe, the one that still smells exactly as Daniel remembers it.
*
He dreams fitfully in what’s left of the night, his mind creating scenarios where he’s still outside, stuck in the cold snow, his feet aching as frostbite sets in, blistering his skin and leaving him limping and crying out for help. He wakes only once, breathing hard, fingers gripping tight, and knuckles smarting from the pressure. He’s vaguely aware of a palm rubbing soothingly down the side of his face, but he falls back asleep before it can truly register.
This time when he dreams, he’s curled up safe and warm, the heat of another body pinned against his side, lips grazing his temple. He presses closer, limbs loose and slotting easily into the spaces between them, his nose nudging under the harsh bones of a jaw, the tip of it heating up against warmer skin. He sighs happily and doesn’t even flinch when he recognises Alexander’s scent.
*
It’s dark when Daniel stretches and blinks blearily around the room, muffling a yawn with a handful of covers. He doesn’t know why he’s woken up until the door across from him clicks shut and a shadowy figure moves closer.
“I hope I did not disturb you,” comes Alexander’s voice and Daniel relaxes further into the mattress. “I just wanted to leave some tea at your side.”
There’s a gentle tap on his bedside and then the hiss of a match as Alexander lights a candle. The flickering glow reveals a small tray with a teacup and a plate of assorted cheeses and meats on it; there’s also a thick slice of bread and a tiny saucer of butter to spread upon it.
“You’ve been asleep for some time,” he explains and Daniel finally realises that the lack of light outside means he’s slept through the entire day. “I thought you might like something to eat.”
“Forgive me,” Daniel begins, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Let me dress quickly and we shall dine together downstairs. I did not mean to be rude.”
His feet hit the floor and as he tries to stand, pain flairs so furiously that he reaches out for Alexander’s help before he can even think not to.
“Oh!” he exhales, fingers digging into the soft fabric of Alexander’s jacket.
Alexander grips him tightly under the arms and carefully lowers him back down to the bed, looking faintly worried as Daniel stares at his toes in confusion.
“What happened to my feet?” Daniel demands, moving his legs and trying to stop the throbbing pain across his soles.
“You don’t remember again?”
“No, no, no,” Daniel repeats, voice getting quieter as he continues, while Alexander rests his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles against his collarbone.
“It’s okay, Daniel. It just seems you wanted to go for a midnight stroll, but forgot to put on shoes.”
Daniel drops his face to his hands and sighs heavily.
“It’s getting worse, Alexander. It can’t continue like this. It will affect my work more than if I don’t sleep, at this rate. Perhaps tonight I shall go without the drugs.”
Alexander looks disapproving.
“You know how that will end, Daniel; it is not worth it. I will remain here instead and watch over you to make sure you stay in this room.”
“I cannot ask you to - to babysit, Alexander” he spits, shame coiling low in his stomach. “Perhaps it would be more proactive to just bind my wrists to the bed each night?”
The comment seems to slide over Alexander and only the corner of his mouth quirks up to let Daniel know that he actually heard it.
“Being tied up is never good for blood flow; you wouldn’t be able to use your hands in the mornings if you were.”
“Just lock the door so I can’t escape,” Daniel says, trying to think of anything to soothe the dull ache of humiliation.
“There is a latch on the inside, so even if I locked it, you would still be able to leave whenever you wanted.” Alexander squeezes Daniel’s shoulder gently as though to comfort, but there’s nothing but dry heat and more embarrassment. “I shall stay for only one night, just to make sure it is nothing we can’t fix another way.”
“Just one night?”
“Is that not what I said?”
Daniel mumbles quietly, but Alexander pats his arm and steps back, lifting the almost-forgotten tray from the bedside and setting it on Daniel’s lap.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, eyes focussed on his cup of tea.
“I will return once you are done to clear the mess away.”
The door clicks shut behind Alexander’s back and it fills Daniel with dread. It seems there’s nothing he can do to change Alexander’s mind.
*
Daniel thinks it might not be as bad as he first thought when Alexander settles at the desk with a large volume on herbal remedies, his attention turned away from Daniel who had visions of Alexander sitting on a chair at his bedside and staring at him until he fell asleep. His feet still throb softly, most of the pain already fading, but there’s hardly any apprehension as he reaches over for his medication and swallows the double dose before burrowing down into the covers and shutting his eyes.
“Goodnight,” he whispers, the effects already curling around his body.
“Let us hope it is,” comes Alexander’s low reply before the laudanum knocks him out and sends him spiralling into his dreams.
*
When he blinks and peers around, finding himself in a room he’s never been in before, he wonders if somehow he’s managed to slip past Alexander’s watchful gaze, but when a hand curls over his shoulder and gently turns him around, it’s Alexander himself that steps forward.
“Alexander?” he questions, trying his best to pinpoint whereabouts in the castle they are. By the robe hanging on the back of the closet door and the personal effects scattered across the desk, he guesses they must be in Alexander’s own room. “Forgive me if I have trespassed, I believe the medication has once more got the best of me.”
Alexander never says a word, but his palm smoothes down over the sleeve of Daniel’s nightshirt, his skin warm through the thin material.
“I do not blame you,” he continues without thought, “I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for how I managed to leave even with you watching over. I only hope that I was not violent.”
Remaining silent, Alexander moves closer, forcing Daniel to take a step back, the backs of his knees abruptly meeting the soft edge of a mattress. He automatically sits as he loses his balance, a soft noise of surprise leaving him suddenly. It seems to apparently be what Alexander wants, as he crouches on one knee in front of Daniel, carefully picking up his bandaged right foot. Daniel blinks away his shock at the tender touch and forces himself to keep still, to not pull away.
“You needn’t worry,” he begins, trying to distract himself from the fact that Alexander’s fingers just seem to be dragging over his skin, massaging lightly without any sort of true medicinal purpose. “They no longer hurt. I’m sure the bandages can be removed now, but I can do it myself later.”
Finally, Alexander seems to respond to his words, as he carefully unfastens the pin keeping the bindings tight and slowly unwraps Daniel’s foot. He lifts Daniel’s leg, Daniel tugging futilely at the hem of his nightshirt as it rides up, almost exposing himself to the Baron; Alexander’s eyes briefly flicker towards the movement, his gaze dark and unreadable, but before Daniel can dwell on it, they shift to focus on his sole once more. A warm thumb rubs over his skin as though checking for pain or any lasting blisters and an involuntary shiver runs down his spine.
“You are cold?” Alexander asks, breaking the one-sided conversation at long last.
“No,” Daniel admits, shaking his head and swallowing down his embarrassment. “My foot is just sensitive.”
“Ah,” is Alexander’s only response.
He fully expects Alexander to let go of his leg and move onto the other bandage, yet, instead, he continues staring at his foot, pressing light touches over it as though entirely spellbound by the sight.
“Alexander?” he asks tentatively, trying to pull away from his grasp, but Alexander holds on tightly. Alexander finally meets his gaze, but instead of apologising, he dips his head and presses his lips to the gentle arch of Daniel’s foot. Daniel doesn’t move, in fear of accidentally kicking Alexander in the face, but he does let out a loud noise of shock, trying to imagine in which scenario the present events would ever be normal; no answer comes to mind.
He wants to say something, anything, to break the silence between them, but his tongue feels heavy and awkward in his mouth. Alexander drags his lips to the ball of his foot, breath soft and even against his skin, and his toes curl unexpectedly. Alexander notices the movement, his free hand coming up to gently unfurl them, his touch relaxing, albeit surprising. Daniel exhales, the noise loud in the quiet room, and Alexander never stops watching him, even as he slides his mouth over the top of his foot, pressing a kiss briefly to his ankle, before moving higher up Daniel’s leg. He twitches when Alexander’s lips tickle the skin on the inside of his knee and glances quickly at the hand Alexander raises.
Fingers wind into his hair and Daniel stops breathing as Alexander kneels up and grazes his shocked, open mouth with his own. Alexander pulls away, eyes dancing over Daniel’s face as though to gauge his reaction, but Daniel is entirely stunned. The Baron has never given any hint to his feelings before now and it all seems so sudden.
“You shouldn’t,” he murmurs, not quite meeting Alexander’s steady gaze. The fingers in his hair slide free, settling instead on the nape of his neck, rubbing soothingly against his skin.
“It is okay, Daniel. Is this not what you want?”
He flushes and wholly blames Alexander’s voice, the deep, rumbling tone that vibrates across his body and leaves him leaning forward unconsciously, because when Alexander shifts, moving forward once again to close the space between them, Daniel doesn’t try to stop him. His lips are warm against Daniel’s own as he kisses gently, seeming to take only what Daniel is willing to give. Before he can catch himself, he opens his mouth, letting Alexander deepen it, pressing them together harder until the faint stubble on Alexander’s face begins to rub Daniel’s skin raw. It burns and tingles and Daniel can’t breathe, but he’ll be okay as long as Alexander doesn’t stop, yet as he brings his hand up to cup Alexander’s jaw, something inside him jars unexpectedly and he finds himself slipping away.
He bolts upright in bed, sheets pooling in his lap as he tries to catch his breath, his lips thrumming and face prickling. He’s back in the safety of his room, where it’s warm and familiar. Yet as he brings his shaking fingers up to his mouth, he swears he can still taste Alexander there.
“Daniel?” comes Alexander’s voice and he startles, the noise too much, too soon. He curls onto his side, tugging the covers back over him, and smothering his heavy gasps with his pillow until his heart rate slows and a strange euphoria, possibly a side effect of the laudanum, numbs his trembling body. He tries his best not to think about the fact that when he moves his feet, he’s sure there are no longer bandages protecting his skin.
“Just a dream,” he explains, voice sounding raw and slightly broken even to his own ears, because that’s all it was: just a dream. He shuts his eyes and repeats it to himself: just a dream, just a dream, nothing more, nothing less.
*
PART TWO >>
Pairing: Daniel/Alexander
Summary: Based on THIS prompt from amnesiakink. Daniel takes too much laudanum and Alexander has to take care of him.
Warnings: Drug use, explicit sexual content.
Author: blacktofade
Words: 7,211 / 15,721
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Read in one post at AO3. Fulfils the sleepy/unconscious square for THIS kinkbingo card. Please feel free to point out any mistakes/offer concrit.
Disclaimer: I am not associated with Amnesia or any of their affiliates. I don't mean any harm, this is all made up.
The rings around his eyes seem to deepen with each night that passes without allowing him the slightest rest. He sees them every time he passes a looking glass, reminding him of his sleep-deprived state and how unstable he feels, his hands shaking and head thrumming. It eats away at his concentration and he doesn’t even realise Alexander’s speaking until he clears his throat loudly, startling Daniel from his thoughts.
“Are you well, Daniel?” Alexander asks as he cleans his fingers on his serviette. Daniel swallows his mouthful of chicken carefully, before wiping his mouth and answering.
“Of course,” he lies, not wishing to put upon Alexander’s already ample generosity with unnecessary requests. “What would make you think otherwise?”
Alexander sips at his wine, keeping the glass perched precariously between steepled fingers, his gaze never wavering from Daniel’s face.
“If you are not sleeping well, you need only say. This is a large castle with far more strange creaks and noises found in any other home. I remember staying with my Aunt here when I was younger and I never slept a wink without a glass of whiskey before retiring for the night. Of course, it takes more than that to have the same effects these days.”
Daniel smiles politely at the anecdote, entirely unable to picture Alexander as a young boy, and drops his gaze to the tabletop to gather his thoughts. Before he can find the right words to speak, Alexander saves him the trouble.
“I shall leave a small dose of laudanum in the guestroom, which you may help yourself to if you so wish.”
Daniel is truly grateful for the hospitality and he has no difficulty sounding genuine when he lifts his eyes and murmurs a soft, “Thank you.”
Alexander tilts his glass slightly in response and subtly switches the conversation to a lighter subject before Daniel even has the chance to realise.
*
The bottle sits innocuously on the bedside as promised when he retires to his quarters for the night. He shuts and locks the door before slipping into his nightclothes and padding softly to the bed, where the overstuffed pillows and thick duvet welcome him with open arms. He unstoppers the medicine and tips the bitter liquid into his mouth, swallowing quickly to keep the taste from sticking to his tongue. He sets the empty phial where he found it and crawls under the sheets, thankful for the heated coals in the bed-warmer Alexander must have slipped under the covers earlier. He has about enough time to lean over and extinguish his candle before the mix of exhaustion and laudanum hits him and his head seems to melt straight into his pillows as he finally falls fast asleep.
*
“You seem rested, Daniel,” Alexander says casually, placing another large tome on the desk, allowing Daniel to tug it closer and glance at the title. He opens it, flipping through the first few pages, as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “I take it the laudanum agreed with you.”
“I couldn’t have asked for a better night’s sleep,” Daniel replies, finally looking up, and Alexander offers a faint smile before responding.
“I am glad to hear it. Shall I leave more at your bedside for tonight?”
Daniel shakes his head negatively, hair falling out of place once more.
“Thank you, Baron, but it is not necessary. I have heard tales of addiction and as much as I would like to continue sleeping well, I fear for my health in the long run.”
“I see. Of course,” is Alexander’s only reply as they turn back to the task at hand, the topic falling out of their reach.
*
As Daniel predicts, he doesn’t sleep at all that night, nor the following, for as long as it takes for the dark circles around his eyes to return. This time, when Alexander notices them, he is not as forgiving and seems almost agitated by the sight before him.
“I cannot allow your lack of rest to interfere with our work, Daniel,” he says as they sit sipping brandy in front of a large hearth. “It is not my place to pry, but when my attempts to keep you safe are in jeopardy, I cannot sit idly by.”
Daniel bows his head in shame, knowing the Baron is right; he almost killed their most recent convict today, all because of a careless mistake he would never have made if entirely well-rested.
“Forgive me,” he replies quietly. “It will not happen again.”
When he finds the small bottle of laudanum waiting for him that night, he takes it without ever thinking twice and although he wakes late the next morning, Alexander seems anything but angry.
*
Alexander eventually stops asking if Daniel would like more laudanum, the medication already there at Daniel’s bedside each and every night.
He takes it, now used to the unique taste, and slides into bed, ready for the feeling of tiredness to weigh down his limbs and tip him over into sleep. However, as he lies there, nothing happens, and it is almost as though he hasn’t taken anything at all. He leans across to hold the bottle up in the beam of moonlight that shines through his window, double-checking the label to make sure it’s truly laudanum that he took, but the word is there before his face, and he is no closer to understanding. It sets it back down on the low table and rolls onto his side, shutting his eyes and hoping that it will help.
Yet hours roll by, the clock down the hall, chiming midnight, one, two, three, and by the time it strikes four o’clock, he is beyond exasperated. He kicks off the covers and slips from the bed, tugging on his trousers underneath his nightshirt before leaving his room and making his way down the hall to the study, where he knows there will be plenty of books to distract him until a more reasonable hour.
Surprisingly, when he steps through the doorway of one of the rooms, he finds a candle already burning brightly, Alexander sitting on one of the settees, a book in hand, reading quietly.
“Daniel?” he says sounding almost surprised.
Daniel stands frozen for a long moment, cursing his decision to not dress properly before he can finally bring himself to answer, the truth spilling out of him before he can stop it.
“I could not sleep.”
“Did you not take the laudanum again?”
“No, I did,” he admits, stepping further into the room and trailing his fingertips over the spines of the books on a shelf to take his mind off Alexander’s steady gaze. “It just didn’t seem to work.”
Alexander hums quietly in thought before turning his attention back to the book in his hands.
“You are welcome to join me here. Shall I call for tea?”
Daniel finds the text he’s been looking for and tugs it free, glancing over his shoulder at Alexander.
“No, no,” he insists. “Unless you wish for some yourself, I am content to just read.”
Alexander lightly touches the cushion beside him and Daniel doesn’t hesitate before walking over and taking a seat, trying to be unobtrusive as he looks over to see the title of Alexander’s reading choice. Daniel’s surprised to find that it’s a spiritual text about the power of one’s soul, but can’t bring himself to comment; he’s sure Alexander has his reasons and it’s not his place to question.
Without thinking, Daniel curls his legs up beside him, flipping open his book and beginning to read. He feels the tingling of Alexander’s gaze on him, but remains focused, the words drawing him in until everything else slips away.
*
The circles return after another three sleepless nights, but on the fourth, a second phial of laudanum appears alongside the first, as though Alexander already knows its effects are weakening on him.
It takes Daniel a fifth night of no rest before he finally succumbs and downs them in quick succession. He doesn’t even make it under the covers before he passes out this time.
*
When Daniel wakes, it takes him a moment to realise that he’s not in the guestroom, but instead sprawled across the tabletop in Alexander’s library. There’s no moisture in his throat and his tongue is stuck firmly to the roof of his mouth. He lets out a faint noise of discomfort and rubs groggily at his face before finally sitting up and assessing the damage. It seems he’s used a large botanical text as a pillow as he feels an imprint of the book’s spine down the length of his cheek. He’s only in his nightshirt and his feet are far from warm.
“Ah, you are awake,” comes a smooth, steady voice from behind and Daniel turns his head to find Alexander lingering in the doorway, holding a tray with enough tea and assorted of breakfast foods for two. He knows the deep shame he feels colours his face, but he can do nothing to help it.
“Begging your pardon, Baron Brennenburg,” he begins, voice deeper and rougher with sleep than he expects it to be. “I, myself, am unsure how I came to be here in this state.”
Surprisingly, Alexander doesn’t appear to be angry, rather he lets out a quiet sigh that sounds rather much like regret.
“I fear it is I who should be asking for forgiveness, Daniel,” Alexander says, stepping closer and setting the tray near Daniel’s thigh as Daniel swings his bare legs over the side of the table, letting them hang uselessly. “Foolishly, I did not warn you this might happen as a result of a doubled dose of laudanum. If I had, this unfortunate situation may have been avoided.”
Regrettably, it doesn’t help take away any of Daniel’s embarrassment, the burn of a deep flush still tingling across his cheeks.
“Excuse me,” he mutters faintly with the hopes that he can sink through the floor into the guestroom and change quick enough to trick his mind into believing Alexander never saw him in such a state of undress.
“I took the liberty,” Alexander says quickly, stopping Daniel from leaving the room with a hand around his wrist, “of bringing you a dressing gown. I had hoped we could eat together before I have to take a trip into town this morning.”
As much as Daniel wishes he could deny him and take the time to bathe and dress, he cannot, there’s not enough time, and so he takes the proffered cover, slipping it over his shoulders and tying the material belt tightly around his waist. There is no doubt in his mind that the clothing belongs to Alexander himself, the hem almost touching the floor, much longer than it would be if it had been tailored to suit Daniel instead. What takes Daniel by surprise is the scent that reaches his nose as he folds back the collar carefully, pulling his hair out of the way. It is unmistakeably Alexander’s soap, the same faint perfume that greets Daniel each morning when Alexander passes him at the breakfast table.
Without thinking, he lets his hands slide into the pockets, finding a loose coin and a folded piece of paper, which he has to refrain from immediately pulling out and reading to sate his curiosity.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, slipping into a seat at the desk and taking the steaming cup Alexander offers him. He blows into once before taking a tentative sip, trying not to burn his tongue as he swallows the first soothing mouthful; it’s made just the way he always prepares it himself in the mornings: one sugar and just a splash of milk. When he glances over the rim, he finds Alexander watching him, though he blinks and looks away when Daniel catches him, reaching over for a plate of pastries instead.
“You are feeling no after-effects, I take it?”
“Not so far.”
He watches as Alexander cleanly cuts through a soft croissant and carefully spreads a thin layer of butter.
“You are sure you remember nothing of how you ended up here?”
Daniel takes another warming mouthful of tea as he thinks, keeping his cool fingers wrapped around the heated china.
“I remember taking the laudanum and getting into bed, but nothing beyond that.”
He watches Alexander chew slowly, noting his glassy eyes as though he’s deep in thought.
“You are not hurt anywhere, are you? This castle is not the safest place for sleepwalkers.”
Alexander’s concern takes him by surprise and he lowers his eyes as the Baron’s attention turns back to him, his gaze once more clear and bright. He shakes his head negatively; he doesn’t feel pain anywhere, there’s just the ache down the side of his face from an unforgiving pillow.
“Do you remember dreaming at all?”
Daniel shakes his head negatively again, watching Alexander wipe his fingers on a serviette and wash his mouthful down with a sip of his own tea.
“Let us see if it happens again tonight,” he says, standing and passing over his plate that still has half a croissant on it. He sets it front of Daniel and gently touches his shoulder. “I cannot stay a moment longer or I shall be late for my scheduled engagement in town. Take the day to relax; some time off will not harm our progress.”
Daniel nods silently and finds himself unable to blink and look away as Alexander leaves, shooting one last brief glance back at Daniel over his shoulder.
*
When night falls, Daniel finds himself apprehensive about taking the doubled dose of laudanum, but eventually swallows the medicine down knowing it’s what Alexander wants of him. Unfortunately, when he wakes just as the grandfather clock chimes two in the morning, he discovers he has once more ventured from the guestroom and he’s crouched beneath a low side table, knees drawn up, as though he’s hiding from someone or something. He lets out a soft curse of embarrassment and tries his best to slip noiselessly from undercover; however, it seems nothing in his life can be simple as he accidentally knocks his shoulder into the table, before he’s able to clear the edge. He glances behind just in time to see a vase wobble precariously on the surface, before it tips and plummets to the floor, shattering into pieces upon contact.
He winces at the noise and stumbles a few steps back into the banister, gripping the wood with drug-weakened fingers, unable to do anything more than stare at the mess. There’s a faint click and the unmistakeable squeak of a turning handle as the door to Daniel’s right slowly opens, revealing Alexander, robe thrown on haphazardly, tiredness and confusion clear in his expression.
“Daniel?” he asks around a half-stifled yawn. “Is everything okay?”
Daniel blinks, gaze moving from Alexander to the broken vase and back again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I woke up under the table and - ”
He cuts himself off as shame rises high in the throat and sits heavily on his tongue; he swallows thickly.
Alexander ties the cloth belt around his waist and steps forward, looking anything but angry.
“You’ve made progress,” he begins, losing Daniel completely until he clarifies. “At least you weren’t on the table this time.”
Daniel doesn’t know if he should laugh or not and ends up letting out a hiccough instead.
“Come,” Alexander continues, taking a hold of Daniel’s arm gently and easing him away from the banister, leading him back in the direction of the guestroom. “What’s done is done. There’s no need to dwell on the past. It was not the prettiest of vases in any case.”
Daniel stumbles slightly, but Alexander keeps him upright, one hand on his elbow, the other quickly wrapping around his waist, long fingers pressing into his hip until he gets his footing once more. By the time they reach the staircase leading up to the guestroom, Daniel feels as though he could fall asleep at any moment, his feet dragging and head lolling forward.
“Stay awake, Daniel,” Alexander orders, shifting Daniel’s weight, letting him lean against his side as they begin to climb the stairs. Daniel only just manages to let out a faint noise of agreement, legs feeling like lead as he lifts them, following Alexander’s slow lead. His head rests comfortably on Alexander’s shoulder, his nose gently brushing the curve of his neck, and the smell of his hair is slightly intoxicating. He sighs in contentment, breathing warmly against Alexander’s skin, and the arm around his waist momentarily tightens, holding him in place.
“Alexander,” he murmurs, voice barely louder than a breath and Alexander hums in question.
“Yes, Daniel?”
Daniel opens his mouth to respond, but his lips graze across Alexander’s throat and he knows it would be so easy to dip his head down and find out if he tastes exactly as he smells. Unfortunately, Alexander shifts his grip on Daniel, fingers pinching the skin on his side, causing him to fidget and move away, hissing in pain.
“Forgive me,” Alexander drawls, softening his touch immediately, drawing Daniel back to his side, helping him through another doorway. Distantly, he realises that they’re in the parlour attached to the guestroom, heat emanating from the still-burning fire, and it’s only a few more shuffling steps before they enter the bedroom.
The space is dark until Alexander sets him on the edge of the mattress and lights a candle on the bedside. He crouches down in front of Daniel and leans in, gently prising one closed eye open, his other hand resting heavy and warm upon Daniel’s thigh. Daniel lets out a noise of annoyance, trying to bat the fingers away from his face, and eventually Alexander concedes.
“’m fine,” he mumbles, finally meeting Alexander’s gaze. “I just need to go back to sleep.”
Alexander hums, but Daniel can’t tell if it means he agrees or not, so instead of talking further, he slumps back against the pillows and kicks the covers down so he can crawl under them. Alexander stands at his side, tugging the hem of Daniel’s nightshirt down over his thighs where it’s ridden up before pulling the sheets and thick duvet over Daniel’s body, helping to tuck him back in.
“Don’t let me sleepwalk again,” he says, trying to touch Alexander on the shoulder as he leans over, but only succeeding in tangling his fingers in his hair. Alexander grunts, gripping Daniel’s wrist tightly to stop him from making it worse while he carefully unravels loose strands from around his knuckles. “Sorry,” he apologises, watching with half-closed eyes, but Alexander doesn’t seem to be at all annoyed with him, just sets Daniel’s now-free hand back on the bed and pulls away.
“It’s not sleepwalking,” Alexander says at last, smoothing out the blankets under his hands. “It’s a side effect of the laudanum.
“Comforting,” Daniel replies, already half-asleep, face turned away from the light of the candle, hand cradled on his pillow, smelling faintly of Alexander’s soap. He hears Alexander’s faint laugh and feels fingers carefully brushing hair away from his temple, but can’t muster the energy to respond before he’s finally tugged under the rolling wave of unconsciousness.
*
The morning brings fresh snow and Daniel stands at the guestroom’s widow overlooking Brennenburg forest, fingertips presses against the cool glass, his breath fogging up the pane until he has to wipe the condensation away. When he first spots movement, he thinks it’s a deer stumbling out of the woods in search of edible foliage, however, the longer he watches the figure, the clearer it becomes and he eventually realises it’s a person - more specifically, Alexander. He has no idea why the Baron would be venturing outside, especially in such weather, but he appears to be content, slowly strolling until he reaches a small wooden bench, which he wipes off and eventually sits upon.
It only takes Daniel a few minutes to dress in clothes that he hopes will keep him warm long enough to hold a conversation with Alexander. As an afterthought, he grabs a scarf hanging by the door and ties it snugly around his neck before making his way down to the front entrance. The wind whips cool air straight into his face as he pushes open the door and steps outside; he tugs the scarf up over his mouth and nose and his breath keeps him warmer, even as his eyes water.
He follows Alexander’s footprints in the snow, easily finding the man exactly where he saw him from his window and he doesn’t appear at all surprised.
“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” he begins, voice muffled from behind the woollen warmth.
“Not at all,” he replies and Daniel takes a seat next to him, shifting against the remnants of snow beneath him. “I was just wondering when you’d make your way downstairs. After last night, I should think you’d like to catch up on as much sleep as possible.”
“Last night?”
Alexander laughs, his breath clouding up in front of them.
“I’m just glad you woke up, as I hardly think the floor under that table would have made you feel at all well rested this morning had you not.”
“I’m sorry?” Daniel asks, genuinely confused. He doesn’t remember a thing about the night before, especially nothing Alexander seems to be hinting at.
“You don’t remember? You accidentally knocked a vase over which woke me. You seemed entirely disorientated so I helped you back to your room, where you promptly fell back asleep.”
Not even the cold can fight off the burning of his face as he flushes with shame and rubs at his skin with shaking fingers.
“Oh god,” he says quietly. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
“Daniel, you must stop apologising for events you cannot change.”
Daniel almost apologises again, but catches himself at the last second.
“Let me repay you for the vase; it’s the least I can do.”
Alexander waves his hand to dismiss the notion.
“I have lost count of how many vases I own. I certainly won’t notice one less.”
Alexander’s kindness is far greater than he’d ever thought it could be and it’s with a nod that he holds his hand out; Alexander shakes it firmly, his own palm warm and dry against his own.
“Thank you,” he says, meaning every word. “For everything.”
“It is not a problem, Daniel. However, what is a problem is the fact that you cannot remember. You are certain you remember nothing? It may just be an effect of the laudanum.”
Daniel takes a moment to think, trying to recall anything from the night, but nothing comes to mind. He shakes his head slowly with disappointment.
“I don’t remember a thing.”
“You responded to conversations last night, though, which means you were not entirely unaware. Perhaps the medication is a mild amnesiac.”
The idea disturbs Daniel more than he thinks, his mind jumping to an image of him attempting to leap from his window and never even knowing. Perhaps the Baron would hear his anguished cries and come to his room to find Daniel’s nightgown billowing in the night breeze as he threatens to let go of the sill and plummet to his death to avoid The Shadow. Daniel would never know unless Alexander told him the next morning. If he ever decided to, that is.
Daniel shivers, not at all from the cold, but Alexander fidgets with the collar of Daniel’s coat and stands, tugging gently for Daniel to follow.
“Let us return inside where it is warmer. It is much easier to think when one can feel their feet.”
Daniel smiles politely, but can’t help but fall into his thoughts as they slowly head back to the castle, his mind a whorl of worry.
*
Daniel almost doesn’t take his medication that night, still full of anxiety over what he might do while drugged and unconscious, but exhaustion from working with convicts all afternoon gives him no choice than to unstopper the bottles and down the contents. He collapses into bed and half-heartedly attempts to draw the blankets up, but loses the motivation when his arms turn to lead and he doesn’t have the strength to lift them anymore.
When he wakes, the first beginnings of light are seeping into the castle and he’s standing in the main entrance, the front door slightly ajar letting in the cold for no apparent reason. He’s still only in his nightshirt, his legs and arms entirely bare to the wind’s chill as he finally shuts the door and rubs his palms together to attempt to restore feeling to them. He doesn’t realises there’s anything wrong until he tries taking a step and almost falls face-first to the floor.
There’s a faint puddle of water around his bare feet and his toes are splotched with red and white marks. Nothing seems to be different until he lifts one foot and realises he can’t feel it at all. For a second he thinks his skin is burning hot, as it tingles and prickles uncomfortably, but when he bends down and touches them, they’re icy. A noise of pained shock escapes his lips and he tries his best to hobble further away from the door as cold air still seems to worm its way under it.
It’s unnerving to walk and not feel it, the numb sensation reaching up to his ankles where it itches ceaselessly and he wants nothing more than to sit on the stone floor and scratch at his skin. However, he can see the stairs from where he is and he slowly drags himself towards them with careful steps. He doesn’t know how he’ll climb them, but by the time he reaches the bottom step, the top stair creak and he looks up to find Alexander making his way down.
“Daniel?” he calls out and relief floods through Daniel without warning.
“I’m here,” he replies, and he knows his voice is shaking audibly because the noise of footsteps quickens and Alexander’s at his side before his words can stop echoing around the room.
“What happened?”
“I woke up just inside the entranceway; I think I was outside in the snow without my shoes, but I don’t know how long I was out there. It hurts, Alexander,” he admits, panic rising in his chest, and Alexander slides an arm around his waist, propping him up before he can even think to protest out of modesty.
“We need to warm them up,” he says quickly, easily helping Daniel up the stairs and leading him back towards the guestroom. “It does not look like frostbite, yet, but we must make haste.”
Daniel grips Alexander’s shoulder and tries to keep as much weight off his feet as possible as he’s not sure how long they’ll hold out. Alexander doesn’t seem to mind, or if he does, he never mentions it, his pace quick and steady. He nudges the bedroom door open with his elbow and helps Daniel slide into bed, settling his feet and gingerly checking to feel how cold they actually are.
“Wait here,” he tells him as though Daniel even has a choice, while he moves to scoop a small shovel-full of glowing coals from the burnt-out fire and empties them into a nearby bed-warmer. He brings it over and slips it under the covers beside Daniel’s feet; Daniel can’t feel the warmth yet, but he knows it will help.
The rest of his body begins to shake with cold now as it seeps under his skin and Alexander sheds his own dressing gown, throwing it over Daniel’s chest and Daniel finds himself tucking his arms into the spaces that are still warm from Alexander’s own body heat. It’s a small comfort, but it makes him feel a little better nonetheless.
“I know it will hurt,” Alexander begins worryingly, “but we must warm your feet up.”
Daniel nods once, hoping the remnants of laudanum will take the edge off as Alexander leans over and gently clasps one of his feet between his palms. He begins to rub, transferring his own warmth across and, almost immediately, it starts to sting. He wants nothing more than to pull away and suffer alone, but instead, he bites hit bottom lip with enough pressure that he tastes blood, and lets Alexander continue.
He alternates from foot to foot, carefully rubbing each toe individually, palms cupping around the balls of his feet, and eventually, Daniel begins to feel the soft sensation of Alexander’s skin against his own.
“It’s working,” Daniel says between chattering teeth and Alexander glances up, something akin to appeasement on his face; he continues rubbing and Daniel presses his feet into the steady grip. When the stinging finally abates and the tingling begins, Alexander slips Daniel’s legs under the covers, keeping the heated coals close by to let them spread warmth the rest of the way.
“Stay still for just a moment longer,” Alexander requests quietly as he walks to the door and disappears from sight.
When he returns, he’s holding a length of bandage that makes Daniel’s eyes widen in surprise.
“There’s really no need,” he explains, holding up his hands and attempting to wave him away. “They’ll be fine now.”
“I have a salve to keep the skin from drying out and to keep the pain away for now.”
He raises a small pot up and Daniel finds himself leaning back into his pillows in submission, his will to argue vanishing as exhaustion curls around him and leaves him wanting nothing more than to return to sleep. Alexander seems to take his silence for permission as he reaches under the blankets for Daniel’s feet, gently coating each sole in a layer of cool gel before wrapping them, fastening the bandages with small pins that keep the cloth snug. Once done, he returns Daniel’s feet back to the warmth and sits back, wiping his sticky hands on the edge of the robe still draped over Daniel.
“You will be okay,” he murmurs and Daniel doesn’t know if Alexander just wants to say it out loud or for Daniel’s benefit, so he just nods as though it’s a question.
“Thank you,” he says and realises Alexander must be truly sick of hearing him apologise as he’s said it so much recently.
Alexander tips his head and moves away from the bed, taking a step back.
“I shall leave you to rest. Do not hesitate to ring for help should you require assistance.”
“Your robe,” Daniel says quickly, but Alexander waves a hand.
“You could use the extra warmth,” he explains as he finally tugs the sheets up over Daniel’s waist and settles them carefully. Daniel wants to clarify that it’s his feet that are damaged and not his hands; he can tuck himself in without help, but never says a word, just watches as Alexander takes the candle from the bedside and walks to the door.
“Sleep well,” he says as he slips out the door and leaves Daniel blinking in the low light, fingers tangled in the soft fabric of Alexander’s robe, the one that still smells exactly as Daniel remembers it.
*
He dreams fitfully in what’s left of the night, his mind creating scenarios where he’s still outside, stuck in the cold snow, his feet aching as frostbite sets in, blistering his skin and leaving him limping and crying out for help. He wakes only once, breathing hard, fingers gripping tight, and knuckles smarting from the pressure. He’s vaguely aware of a palm rubbing soothingly down the side of his face, but he falls back asleep before it can truly register.
This time when he dreams, he’s curled up safe and warm, the heat of another body pinned against his side, lips grazing his temple. He presses closer, limbs loose and slotting easily into the spaces between them, his nose nudging under the harsh bones of a jaw, the tip of it heating up against warmer skin. He sighs happily and doesn’t even flinch when he recognises Alexander’s scent.
*
It’s dark when Daniel stretches and blinks blearily around the room, muffling a yawn with a handful of covers. He doesn’t know why he’s woken up until the door across from him clicks shut and a shadowy figure moves closer.
“I hope I did not disturb you,” comes Alexander’s voice and Daniel relaxes further into the mattress. “I just wanted to leave some tea at your side.”
There’s a gentle tap on his bedside and then the hiss of a match as Alexander lights a candle. The flickering glow reveals a small tray with a teacup and a plate of assorted cheeses and meats on it; there’s also a thick slice of bread and a tiny saucer of butter to spread upon it.
“You’ve been asleep for some time,” he explains and Daniel finally realises that the lack of light outside means he’s slept through the entire day. “I thought you might like something to eat.”
“Forgive me,” Daniel begins, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Let me dress quickly and we shall dine together downstairs. I did not mean to be rude.”
His feet hit the floor and as he tries to stand, pain flairs so furiously that he reaches out for Alexander’s help before he can even think not to.
“Oh!” he exhales, fingers digging into the soft fabric of Alexander’s jacket.
Alexander grips him tightly under the arms and carefully lowers him back down to the bed, looking faintly worried as Daniel stares at his toes in confusion.
“What happened to my feet?” Daniel demands, moving his legs and trying to stop the throbbing pain across his soles.
“You don’t remember again?”
“No, no, no,” Daniel repeats, voice getting quieter as he continues, while Alexander rests his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles against his collarbone.
“It’s okay, Daniel. It just seems you wanted to go for a midnight stroll, but forgot to put on shoes.”
Daniel drops his face to his hands and sighs heavily.
“It’s getting worse, Alexander. It can’t continue like this. It will affect my work more than if I don’t sleep, at this rate. Perhaps tonight I shall go without the drugs.”
Alexander looks disapproving.
“You know how that will end, Daniel; it is not worth it. I will remain here instead and watch over you to make sure you stay in this room.”
“I cannot ask you to - to babysit, Alexander” he spits, shame coiling low in his stomach. “Perhaps it would be more proactive to just bind my wrists to the bed each night?”
The comment seems to slide over Alexander and only the corner of his mouth quirks up to let Daniel know that he actually heard it.
“Being tied up is never good for blood flow; you wouldn’t be able to use your hands in the mornings if you were.”
“Just lock the door so I can’t escape,” Daniel says, trying to think of anything to soothe the dull ache of humiliation.
“There is a latch on the inside, so even if I locked it, you would still be able to leave whenever you wanted.” Alexander squeezes Daniel’s shoulder gently as though to comfort, but there’s nothing but dry heat and more embarrassment. “I shall stay for only one night, just to make sure it is nothing we can’t fix another way.”
“Just one night?”
“Is that not what I said?”
Daniel mumbles quietly, but Alexander pats his arm and steps back, lifting the almost-forgotten tray from the bedside and setting it on Daniel’s lap.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, eyes focussed on his cup of tea.
“I will return once you are done to clear the mess away.”
The door clicks shut behind Alexander’s back and it fills Daniel with dread. It seems there’s nothing he can do to change Alexander’s mind.
*
Daniel thinks it might not be as bad as he first thought when Alexander settles at the desk with a large volume on herbal remedies, his attention turned away from Daniel who had visions of Alexander sitting on a chair at his bedside and staring at him until he fell asleep. His feet still throb softly, most of the pain already fading, but there’s hardly any apprehension as he reaches over for his medication and swallows the double dose before burrowing down into the covers and shutting his eyes.
“Goodnight,” he whispers, the effects already curling around his body.
“Let us hope it is,” comes Alexander’s low reply before the laudanum knocks him out and sends him spiralling into his dreams.
*
When he blinks and peers around, finding himself in a room he’s never been in before, he wonders if somehow he’s managed to slip past Alexander’s watchful gaze, but when a hand curls over his shoulder and gently turns him around, it’s Alexander himself that steps forward.
“Alexander?” he questions, trying his best to pinpoint whereabouts in the castle they are. By the robe hanging on the back of the closet door and the personal effects scattered across the desk, he guesses they must be in Alexander’s own room. “Forgive me if I have trespassed, I believe the medication has once more got the best of me.”
Alexander never says a word, but his palm smoothes down over the sleeve of Daniel’s nightshirt, his skin warm through the thin material.
“I do not blame you,” he continues without thought, “I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for how I managed to leave even with you watching over. I only hope that I was not violent.”
Remaining silent, Alexander moves closer, forcing Daniel to take a step back, the backs of his knees abruptly meeting the soft edge of a mattress. He automatically sits as he loses his balance, a soft noise of surprise leaving him suddenly. It seems to apparently be what Alexander wants, as he crouches on one knee in front of Daniel, carefully picking up his bandaged right foot. Daniel blinks away his shock at the tender touch and forces himself to keep still, to not pull away.
“You needn’t worry,” he begins, trying to distract himself from the fact that Alexander’s fingers just seem to be dragging over his skin, massaging lightly without any sort of true medicinal purpose. “They no longer hurt. I’m sure the bandages can be removed now, but I can do it myself later.”
Finally, Alexander seems to respond to his words, as he carefully unfastens the pin keeping the bindings tight and slowly unwraps Daniel’s foot. He lifts Daniel’s leg, Daniel tugging futilely at the hem of his nightshirt as it rides up, almost exposing himself to the Baron; Alexander’s eyes briefly flicker towards the movement, his gaze dark and unreadable, but before Daniel can dwell on it, they shift to focus on his sole once more. A warm thumb rubs over his skin as though checking for pain or any lasting blisters and an involuntary shiver runs down his spine.
“You are cold?” Alexander asks, breaking the one-sided conversation at long last.
“No,” Daniel admits, shaking his head and swallowing down his embarrassment. “My foot is just sensitive.”
“Ah,” is Alexander’s only response.
He fully expects Alexander to let go of his leg and move onto the other bandage, yet, instead, he continues staring at his foot, pressing light touches over it as though entirely spellbound by the sight.
“Alexander?” he asks tentatively, trying to pull away from his grasp, but Alexander holds on tightly. Alexander finally meets his gaze, but instead of apologising, he dips his head and presses his lips to the gentle arch of Daniel’s foot. Daniel doesn’t move, in fear of accidentally kicking Alexander in the face, but he does let out a loud noise of shock, trying to imagine in which scenario the present events would ever be normal; no answer comes to mind.
He wants to say something, anything, to break the silence between them, but his tongue feels heavy and awkward in his mouth. Alexander drags his lips to the ball of his foot, breath soft and even against his skin, and his toes curl unexpectedly. Alexander notices the movement, his free hand coming up to gently unfurl them, his touch relaxing, albeit surprising. Daniel exhales, the noise loud in the quiet room, and Alexander never stops watching him, even as he slides his mouth over the top of his foot, pressing a kiss briefly to his ankle, before moving higher up Daniel’s leg. He twitches when Alexander’s lips tickle the skin on the inside of his knee and glances quickly at the hand Alexander raises.
Fingers wind into his hair and Daniel stops breathing as Alexander kneels up and grazes his shocked, open mouth with his own. Alexander pulls away, eyes dancing over Daniel’s face as though to gauge his reaction, but Daniel is entirely stunned. The Baron has never given any hint to his feelings before now and it all seems so sudden.
“You shouldn’t,” he murmurs, not quite meeting Alexander’s steady gaze. The fingers in his hair slide free, settling instead on the nape of his neck, rubbing soothingly against his skin.
“It is okay, Daniel. Is this not what you want?”
He flushes and wholly blames Alexander’s voice, the deep, rumbling tone that vibrates across his body and leaves him leaning forward unconsciously, because when Alexander shifts, moving forward once again to close the space between them, Daniel doesn’t try to stop him. His lips are warm against Daniel’s own as he kisses gently, seeming to take only what Daniel is willing to give. Before he can catch himself, he opens his mouth, letting Alexander deepen it, pressing them together harder until the faint stubble on Alexander’s face begins to rub Daniel’s skin raw. It burns and tingles and Daniel can’t breathe, but he’ll be okay as long as Alexander doesn’t stop, yet as he brings his hand up to cup Alexander’s jaw, something inside him jars unexpectedly and he finds himself slipping away.
He bolts upright in bed, sheets pooling in his lap as he tries to catch his breath, his lips thrumming and face prickling. He’s back in the safety of his room, where it’s warm and familiar. Yet as he brings his shaking fingers up to his mouth, he swears he can still taste Alexander there.
“Daniel?” comes Alexander’s voice and he startles, the noise too much, too soon. He curls onto his side, tugging the covers back over him, and smothering his heavy gasps with his pillow until his heart rate slows and a strange euphoria, possibly a side effect of the laudanum, numbs his trembling body. He tries his best not to think about the fact that when he moves his feet, he’s sure there are no longer bandages protecting his skin.
“Just a dream,” he explains, voice sounding raw and slightly broken even to his own ears, because that’s all it was: just a dream. He shuts his eyes and repeats it to himself: just a dream, just a dream, nothing more, nothing less.
*
PART TWO >>