middleofsomewhere | Red Team Finale

After four gruelling days and nights trecking over a blizzard wrecked mountain range they finally seem to be coming to the point where the SCA is leading them. High up in the mountains, the blizzard is thick and keeping together will be difficult. It is easy to get lost, snowdrifts are high and often seeing past the end of their hand is a challenge.

But as the blizzard swirls it is possible to see three figures on the highest peak. It is hard to see through the storm but as they get closer it is clear that one of the figures at least, can see them.

“Icey you have managed to navigate my storm.” The voice is cold and doesn’t sound surprised at all. Despite the distance and the howling winds it is not hard to hear him, as if the wind was carrying the voice from him to you.

“Snow problem of course, you can’t stop me now.” There’s a rumble, a ripple that seems to move the earth itself, enough to knock them off their feet if they don’t brace themselves.

A moment later from all around them snowmen rise, wielding sharp icicles in both hands they stand between the red team and Professor Chill. Laughter echoes through the storm.

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He leans down burying his face in her hair. It was a risk. He knew it was. He just hoped he can contain it. It should have never looked so horribly as it did.

"I'm sorry." His voice is barely above a whisper. "I thought I can control it better."

Now. That. That's another piece of evidence grossly he miscalculated his action.

"It should have fallen off," he tries to explain. " The fabric. It melted instead of burning. I don't understand why."

It should have. Every fabric he knows, linen, wool, silk; every single one burns to ash. Not the thing their winter clothes are made of here. So it didn't burn. It absorbed the heat from the fire, melted and now it's giving it back. He can feel it burning his skin under that solid crust.

His own fire would do him no harm. Unless he was severely wounded or dying already. But this? This can.

"Do you still have the dagger I gave you?"

She frowns at it.

"It does not look like fabric at all, now." She touches it briefly and hisses. "And it is hot!"

A nod and she passes him the dagger - he may tolerate flames better than another, but he can still burn, as they already know.

[Obsidian blades can break if used without caution but they cut like nothing else. The dagger slices through layers of synthetics, all melded together now as they are. Whatever there was of the more natural fibers has burned away as he expected. The rest, a bigger portion, didn't.

The skin underneath is angry red and there are already blisters starting to form. That's nothing new. Simply being around the forge puts one in danger of getting a spot burn here and there. Too easily some of that too hot metal being worked on can end in the wrong places if one is not careful. He had dealt with burns before.

Another cut, parallel to the one before. He should be able to take the first piece off. His whole field of vision suddenly goes black for a moment when he pulls at it. Not exactly Balrog's whips but it doesn't have to. His nerves are already screaming as if he tried to rip off his skin along with the plastic. Which probably happened.
He takes a deep breath. Alright. That would need a horizontal cut too. Another breath. Not alright. The hand holding the dagger starts to tremble. Very not alright.

He looks up to Nerdanel.

I'm so sorry...]

I might need help with this.

[ She reaches over and steadies his hand ]

Hush, my dear. Let me.

[ She takes the knife ]

Lean on me, Feanaro. Let me help you.

[It was her voice that anchored him here when everything else was fire. It is her hand now that stops him from slipping away.]

Yes. Please.

[Two words. That is all he manages to say. He has no breath left for more. It is as if his spirit recoils from the pain. Rejecting the source of it in the process. As if it belonged to someone else. How feeble are the bonds that tie him to this new body?]

Stay with me, Feanaro.

[ She murmurs, bracing him, drawing him down to kneel with her in the snow ]

I will be as swift as I may.

[ Better to be quick than slow, she knows. It will hurt either way. Softly, she begins the charm that all parents learn, to soothe pain and calm nerves, a silly, almost meaningless jingle. And then, she draws a deep breath and cuts. They've dealt with burns before, but never anything like this. She cuts down with focus - the knife comes to her from her husband's hand - it knows him, and she stops when it tells her when it reaches him, moving in a single long cut to open the carapace ]

[The charm may not be the most potent spell. It doesn't have to. It matters who sings it. It helps. For once the icy wind that was such a hindrance this whole mission is a sudden and unexpected blessing. His arm looks awful but the wound cools rapidly once the plastic is removed.]

I think I have a medical kit in my backpack. [If he didn't forget to pack it.] There should a couple of bandages inside.

[This whole mission, more than anything showed one thing. They are stronger together.]

It's good that we're in a cold environment.

[ She agrees, practically. It's a simple enough job from there to douse his arm in water and wrap the bandages around the burns gently. He'll heal, and be well enough, in a few days after all. Nerdanel is always grateful that they heal well ]

Red Team Finale

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cw: burn injury, i can tone it down if it's too explicit

I've dealt with worse at work XD

um, of course, silly me

<3 <3 <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 but wrap?

yus <3