mj and ice's excellent roleplay adventure

A quiet, pained noise escapes his throat as he's set down. It wasn't caused by Kaz, no, the other man's touch is… gentle. The room feels too bright, so Will shuts his eyes and notes the smells of the room. It's herbal. That slightly puts the man at ease. He can pull distinct smells from the air: lavender, chamomile, calendula, basil and other medicinal plants. There's hints of others he can't quite decipher. Maybe these are only native to wherever the men had taken Will. He hums faintly, bringing his hands up to his eyes to shade the last bit of light away.

The pain slowly begins to ebb away from his back, but his migraine stays raging in his temples. He tries to pinpoint the exact herbs and plants used in the salve, but he comes up short. It has to be something supernatural he concludes. For a brief beautiful moment, Will had forgotten of Kaz's presence. He was nearly at peace… But with the realization that he isn't alone sets him right back on edge. He should know better than to trust himself around the Snake.

As the healers complete their work on Will's back, his shoulders relax and the tension slowly leaves his neck. The salve feels heavenly. When they're done, a bandage is wrapped around his torso. The cloth slightly pulls on his skin, making him slightly uncomfortable, but it's nothing he won't get over quickly. "Thank you," he says quietly as the healers back away. His eyes are still closed, his hands clasped over them. His dark hair hangs around his face, some of it still caked in mug and leaves.

"I can-" Will starts, but as soon as he moves himself, another blinding, searing bolt of pain splits through his head. "Fuck-" He whispers. He peeks through his fingers, green eyes flicking up and down Kaz's strong body. He hates the way his heart jumps, hates the way his mind leaps, hates the way his thoughts try to convince Will that Kazimir is a safe place. He's not. Kaz is going to slaughter Will. It's only a matter of time.

"Fine," he bites again. "Don't make this any more miserable than it has to be."

Will's breath hitches in his throat as Kazimir lifts him off of the table. His mind swims, vision blurring and blackening in the corners. From the few glimpses Will catches of the castle, its beautiful. One day he would like to map it all out, find the nooks and crannies and secret passageways. For a fleeting moment, Will forgets he's a prisoner in the hands of the Snake.

The smell hits him instantly when they arrive in the washroom. It's still floral, but this time the smells are pungent and biting, unlike the soothing aromas of the infirmary. The perfumes cause his head to spin. He holds his breath waiting for the feeling to subside.

The thought of the other man seeing Will so exposed is near mortifying. "No, I have it handled," he quickly answers, softly shaking his head and hiding the pain that comes with it. It's just a bath. It shouldn't be difficult. Will is a perfectly capable human being. "I don't require your assistance."

When he's finally alone in the room, Will lets out a long sigh of relief. The room still too bright for him to open his eyes, Will reaches out with his magic, finding some vines crawling up one of the nearby walls and has them extend and weave together, effectively covering the window and any other sources of light. He cracks an eye open, testing the lighting, and then blinks them both open. The bathroom is gorgeous to say the least. From the glittering marble to the silver and gold features embedded with gems. Luxury, but not tacky. Will can respect that.

His back aches as he struggles to strip down. The water radiates comfortable warmth… The water back in his home was never warm. His mother always requested to use the warm water for her work. Will never had an issue with that. He can deal with borderline cold water if it brings more revenue in for his family.

As he slips into the warmth of the bath, the reality of his situation hits him. The Snake… oh, the Snake. Destiny is always so cruel to Will. He's loved the Snake in a million lifetimes, he's hated every second of it. He's been killed by the Snake at the end of every single one, but Will can't find it in his heart to hate him. Kazimir is destruction, is pain and massacre and agony… Yet, he can't hate him. And Will resents himself for that.

When he's done bathing, Will hoists himself from the bath with a wince. His arms feel like twigs during dry season, his back coated in lacerations and now wet bandages. That was a waste of gauze, he mutters internally. His hair drips into his eyes as he slowly slides from the bathtub. The towel is warm, fluffy… nice. He finds himself softly sighing as he pats himself clean, being extra weary of his wounds. It's only then, he notices, that he doesn't have any clothes to change into. His nostrils flare. He wraps the large towel around himself a little tighter. He could change right back into his pants, but those are filthy and his shirt is in tatters and currently in a different part of the castle.

"Kazimir," He says grudgingly after a few moments of ferocious internal debate. "I require clothing."

Will's face grows red at the mere thought. "I think not, you bastard!" He bites, hands balling into fists even though Kazimir is well on the other side of the door. "I'd rather preserve what dignity I have left." He shudders and groans, wrapping the towel further around his cooling body.

Will starts when Kaz knocks on the door, lost in his own thoughts for the past few minutes. He scrambles to ensure that he's properly covered, puffing out through his nose as the door opens. It lets in more light, causing Will to squint and turn away. He makes a point to not look at Kaz. "Thank you," he mutters quietly, praying that the other man didn't hear.

Once safely alone again, Will slowly gets to his feet - wincing at the pain that shoots through his ankles. The barbarian must've had a stronger grip on his ankle than he thought. He orders some of the vines on the walls to him, wrapping them around his feet and calves as braces. He breaks off the vines, watching as they slowly solidify into sturdy assistance. It's still painful, but at least it's a little more comfortable. Will drops the towel and slips into the provided shirt, noting thankfully that it's large and doesn't press against his wounds. The pants are also considerably loose, but at least they have a drawstring to keep them on his hips. He sweeps his drying hair from his face, wishing for a ribbon to tie it back, and pointedly avoids his reflection in the mirror.

And then Will slowly makes his way to the door, closing his eyes tight to brace for the light, and opens it.

Will hums, raising his hand to form a visor over his eyes. The migraine has dulled to a headache, but the throbbing at the base of his skull doesn't cease for even a moment. "I want to go home," he says quietly, thinking about his poor parents and their small businesses. If he hadn't been out in the forest so late… He could be in his bed drawing his plants in his sketchbook… His sketchbook. Panic flares through Will as he searches for his stachel. He didn't remember removing it to take a bath… He pats down his sides, even though he knows it won't be there. He feels his shoulders for the familiar strap of the bag, but comes up short. "Where is it?" He asks, mostly to himself.

"My-" Will starts, turning in a slow circle as if he would somehow find it slumped against the ornate walls. "My bag." He unintentionally tunes out Kaz's reasoning for his temporary and unwilling hostel. He can feel the panic lumping in his throat. Maybe it's just the day catching up to him. Just that morning he had his life wrecked by an old woman with a card deck. And then he was in the forest - after dark, just like the Mayor always warned to never do - and kidnapped by a group of barbaric fae. And now he's trapped in a disgustingly beautiful castle, a hostage to the Snake… The man he's doomed to love, the man he's destined to die to. "I need my bag," he says, voice verging on pleading. He hasn't slept in thirty hours.

"I had it-" Will says, slightly frantically. His headache is getting worse. "It was taken with me-" He tries his best to still his breath and to rack his mind. He remembers… He was on the floor, he was in pain, he was bleeding and facing the Snake with bared teeth. "It's still down in that main room."

"I can walk," Will is quick to protest. He'd rather not have Kaz carry him again. He needs to spare what little dignity he has left. Instinctively stepping away from Kaz as the Snake steps forward, Will turns his attention to trying to figure out which way is towards the throne room. He wasn't in the best of shape when he was carried up. A sigh escapes his nose. The palace is practically a labyrinth to him.