iwasmore | for Cremisius

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for Cremisius

Noah was so much busier in Darrow at night than he had been back home. Without Ronan around, he occasionally kept Gansey company when he was alone with his insomnia. He had Al to look after, to try and keep him from having nightmares. He checked on Ronan to make sure he wasn't having any nightmares - or dreaming anything dangerous into the world. He didn't check on Ronan when he was at Adam's, though, giving them privacy in case they wanted it. He didn't check on Blue, because she was a girl, and it seemed impolite to show up in her bedroom in the middle of the night.

And then, there was Krem. Noah wasn't trying to be creepy, but he wanted to peek in to check and make sure he was okay. The common theme among everyone here was being displaced, and that alone was enough to cause poor sleep, or even nightmares. And Cremisius had also been a solider, and Noah could imagine that came with it's own set of problems.

The first night Noah checked in on Cremisius, he appeared to be sleeping just fine. Prunam was even curled at the bottom of the bed near his feet. Noah left a small handful of glitter that had been left over from Adam's birthday party on the bedside table and disappeared. The second night, Cremisius was awake, sitting up in bed and looking pensive. Noah wanted to say something, but felt to shy just showing up, and left. The third night, Noah came in the middle of an awful nightmare. Cremisius was making a pained sound, curled in on himself, and Noah could see he mind conjuring blood and the bodies of friends, strewn among rubble and smoke. He tossed, one hand clutching at his chest even in sleep, and Noah's own unbeating, useless heart gave a pang of sympathy, because even if he was no longer alive he could still feel.

Noah joined Krem in bed, too worried to spare a thought for whether he'd want him there or not, too worried to even remember to go corporeal, and stroked his hair in soft, soothing motions. Shh, he whispered, trying to calm Krem's nightmares from growing worse. He didn't have any magic to change thoughts or stop nightmares, but he always hoped his cool touch would soothe and interrupt; like his family dog, when he was a child. Sadie would sometimes woof and growl in her dreams, and if Noah put a gentle hand on her stomach, or stroked her back, the dreams would calm without her truly coming awake, and she'd sleep soundly.

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Krem smiled and wandered shortly to the kitchen. He brought down two mugs, though he looked at Noah a little questioningly. Did ghosts drink coffee? If Noah could get high, could he enjoy caffeine?

He ran the Keurig machine for himself, though, leaning against the counter and running his fingers along some of the bruises on his body. His face flushed, eyes a little pleasantly vacant.

Noah didn't drink coffee, but he didn't say so. Instead, he watched Krem; the curve of his back, the profile of his face, the movements of his hands.

Noah moved closer without walking there, wanting to be touching Krem still. He loosely looped his arms around Krem's middle, chest to Krem's back, leaning down to kiss his hair, his shoulder. He nuzzled affectionately.

"Thank you."

Krem leaned back into him, pressing against his chest though it chilled him. He left the spare mug on the counter and picked up the mug he'd now filled with coffee, holding it in both hands.

"Shouldn't I be thanking you? Pulling me out of nightmares and keeping me rather inappropriately distracted..." He smiled a little. "You're welcome, though."

"I'm a ghost," Noah said, and he could say more, he wanted to say more, but he thought it was explanation enough. He didn't want to start a pity party, or think about it too much, the improbability of him being with someone in any capacity. Maybe if he didn't say anything, Krem wouldn't realize that he could do so much better.

"And I liked distracting you," he added, hiding a smile in Krem's hair. "Though I wish it could have just been for no reason, that you only had nice dreams."

"I know you're a ghost." He took one of his coffee-warmed hands and reached down, covering over of Noah's hands on his stomach. It didn't drive back the chill of him, but it evened out, for a moment. It was odd, he thought, in the same way that it had been odd to become used to Cole--it was just a thing that you did, he supposed, once you realized that this thing, this person meant you no ill will. Noah meant him no harm, and if anything, wanted the exact opposite.

That was a strange and exhilarating thing. He could feel Noah's smile in his hair, and he smiled as well, sipping his coffee. "I haven't had only nice dreams in years. This is a nice alternative."

Noah shivered when Krem's hand covered his, as if Krem was the cold one. But it was more than that. He felt too much, it was too much affection. Time didn't mean anything to him, but he found himself thinking that if he could, he'd like to stay in that moment.

"I'll come every night," he said, and his voice felt squeezed, hard to speak. "It's...sometimes I'm not here. But I'll try, so I can keep you company."

Krem thought about that for a moment. It wasn't that he didn't want Noah to be there, or that he minded him not being there while he was in the suite. But it seemed tricky, that he would have to just suppose that Noah was there.

"Maybe," he said softly. "Maybe not every night. You have friends here. I don't want to take you away from them."

Suddenly, he felt very guilty for that, wondering if he was taking Noah away from them. He didn't know how Noah was tied up with Adam and Ronan and the others he hadn't met yet. He sipped his coffee and leaned into Noah and tucked this moment, this time that he had Noah, though, safely into a spot where it was safe, and protected, and just his.

Noah rubbed his cheek, frowning. "Sorry, I just hate to think of you in pain," he said, voice faint, everything feeling faint and disappearing, slipping away like it was never real.

"They sleep. Al has nightmares, Ronan has nightmares," he said, distantly. "Sometimes I keep them company." But they didn't like to kiss him, and Ronan had Adam. Noah had always thought he had all of them, in a way. He didn't realize how much he didn't, how there was more. And it was different here, and he was leaving for good eventually, and he knew it. He tried not to think about that, though, fingers digging into his cheek. He thought about Krem instead, and how he was okay right now.

Krem set his mug down for a moment and turned to face him. He was trying, very hard, to not be embarrassed about his body again. Noah had seen him, touched him, just minutes before. It wasn't different.

He touched Noah's fingers, rather than his cheek. There was something surreal about the smudge on his cheek, in the half-light of the kitchen. He leaned in, brushing his lips on Noah's gently.

"I'll be happy to have you here, when you come and check on me."

Noah snapped back into the moment and smiled, like he hadn't been slipping at all. "Hi-- sorry." He looked confused, and then slowly relaxed, curling his fingers around Krem's and letting his hand drop from his face.

"I can't actually decide when I'll be somewhere, a lot of the time," he said sadly. "I've been trying, though. And I'm trying not to be...weird." He heard all of them in the back of his mind;

You're been creepy.

Stop being creepy.

Noah, that's creepy.

"I won't come every night. I scared you, I'm sorry. I promise I'm not haunting you." He lifted his other hand to the back of his head a moment, then let that drop too.

Krem slowly laced their fingers together. He marveled at it for a moment, just the act of it. Then, softly, he said, "No, you didn't scare me. It's just all a lot, all at once. Not just you."

He kept hold of Noah's hand and used the other one to pick up his coffee again, sipping it. He didn't untangle their fingers. It was very soothing, somehow. Maybe Noah was a bit of Compassion or Hope, and he just didn't know it.

"This is the first time I've ever been alone. And that's lonesome. But it also means I can do alone things. So just. Let me know when you're here, even if I can't see you, if you can?"

"I will," Noah promised, looking down at their hands. He wondered what alone things Krem liked. He could remember some things he used to like; skateboarding and collecting concert posters and video games. Now, he didn't know what he liked. Being with his friends. Cats.

His eyes flicked up. "Why weren't you ever alone before?"

"Oh," he said softly and, without taking his hand out of Noah's, he got up onto the counter to sit there. He spread his knees wide enough to make room for Noah. "I lived with my folks and extended family, and then in the barracks, and then with the Chief and the Chargers traveling around so much. Wasn't ever by myself."

Noah moved between Krem's legs, gazing up at him with a warm smile. He put an arm around Krem's waist and tucked himself against his body, resting his cheek against Krem's chest. "Do you miss it?" he asked, laying his palm on Krem's knee, tracing the shape of it with his thumb.

Krem rest his chin on Noah's head. He thought of drinking with Dorian; he thought of the dull ache in his heart where the Chargers and the Iron Bull belonged and where they were not because they were not here.

"I miss a lot of things," he said after a long, quite moment. "But things change a lot. I haven't been back to Tevinter, where I'm from originally, since I was nineteen. It's been...nine years, coming up."

"Tevinter," Noah echoed, trying the word out. It didn't sound right without Krem's accent, but he still wanted to remember it. It sounded like something out of a storybook, but then, so did Cremisius Aclassi. Some fairy tale prince.

"Why so long? Because you were busy as a soldier?"

Krem shook his head, chin still against Noah's hair. He thought about how many times he'd told the story of leaving Tevinter, or had it told for him. It seemed a silly story, now, somehow. He turned his mug around on the counter, by his hip.

"No, I was only a soldier for a little more than a year. Just after my seventeenth birthday until just before I turned nineteen. I had to leave, because someone found out I'd lied about...all this." He gestured vaguely at his body, then shrugged. "It's a punishable offense, lying on public records. So it was the gallows. Or slavery, if I let them say I was mad."

"Oh my god." Noah wanted to look up, to see Krem's face, but Krem was resting his head on Noah's hair and Noah was too endeared to move away from it. His hand tightened on Krem's kneecap, though, and the other, around his waist, absently stroked the small of his back.

"Well you're here and alive, and it was nine years ago, so I assume you got away? Or...were you a slave?" He desperately hoped not, that Krem had instead escaped before he even had the chance to be put through that. He was small and clever enough to, Noah liked to think.

The squeezing was reassuring, comfortable. There was no halfhearted condolence. He sighed a little, and smiled, tilting his head down to kiss Noah's head.

"Yeah, I got away." He was quiet again, for a moment, then said, "I ran for the border, and a tribune found me. Knew I was defecting from the military, not why. Thought they'd make an example of me. Things got ugly. The Chief--the Iron Bull--found me, stepped in. Lost a damned eye. Saved my life. Worked for him ever since."

Noah knew what stilted sentences meant, it meant that there was so much more behind them that couldn't be contained in words. Noah tilted his face to the side, pressing a kiss to Krem's collarbone in an attempt at comfort. His fingers trailed lightly along Krem's back, mapping an idle line.

"He must be a good man. You'd been with him for nine years? Almost a decade."

That also meant Krem was nearly thirty. The realization should have bothered him, maybe, but it was nothing more than a passing thought. Age didn't mean much when time didn't.

"He is," Krem said, very quietly, because his mind was becoming troubled again. The Iron Bull was a good man. The Iron Bull had saved him, gotten him out, spent nearly a decade building him into the man he'd become.

He tried to think of placid thoughts, not wanting to upset Noah with his own upsetting thoughts.

Noah wasn't sure what was happening, but he could tell Krem's thoughts were becoming anxious. Paired with him trying to force them down, his turmoil was putting Noah on edge. Noah turned to face Krem, growing his body to reach Krem's face so he could kiss him. He cupped Krem's face with his chilly hands, trying to bring him back to the present.

"Shh, it's okay, Cremisius. You're okay. You're safe," he said in a gentle voice, kissing him again, and once more.

"Sorry," he murmured, and again as Noah kissed him. "I don't mean to upset you. It's--it's complicated. I just--"

He heaved a sigh and leaned his forehead against Noah's. "It's good your friends are here. That must be nice, I'd think. Adam's a good kind, and Ronan must be better with people he likes. I can only guess what your other friends are like, too. They must be good kinds, too."

"Don't apologize," Noah said. He'd only been upset because Krem had been, only wanted to stop it from getting worse.

Noah's hands moved from Krem's cheeks, and he ran his fingers through Krem's hair, then linked his fingers behind Krem's neck to keep him close. "They are," he said dubiously, wondering if Krem was implying that his weren't. Also, a small part of him wondered at the reference to Ronan, and at what context Krem had met him. "Aren't some of your friends here?"

Krem sighed, closing his eyes. He focused on the coolness of his fingers, and it managed to keep the darker thoughts at bay. He kept his eyes closed, and nodded a little bit. "They are," he said. "But they're not the friends-like-family sort. They're...associates. Compatriots. We were thrust together by unusual circumstances, and we still are."

for Cremisius

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