[ I think there's a chance we'll have a Sage chapter this week or next week, I'm always too excited for hints every update cycle!! but honestly I love all of them <3 ]
Tw: symptoms similar to poisoning, mentions of throwing-up
Sage
You've seen Sage take plenty of punches and lose more fights than not. It isn't until Sage is wounded by a relic- the relic that used to be his own, no less- that you realise he's in genuine trouble.
While he can still talk, Sage knows he should admit this will be bad. But he can't bring himself to describe it to you, or frighten you by letting you visualise the way he's had to drag himself across the floor to reach the basin or a jug of water in the past.
Instead Sage gathers enough of his stamina to chuckle weakly and tell you- since he isn't dead from the relic's wound already, he'll be able to pull through. He realises immediately after that he shouldn't have tried to laugh, and holds back a coughing fit so that the words still sound slightly comforting to you.
But you realise something else that Sage perhaps didn't mean to say- all relics are dangerous in the wrong hands.
By the time you make it back to the inn, you've made the harrowing discovery that this isn't the type of injury you can heal him from. Sage already knew this long before you started trying, but he didn't want you to feel like you hadn't done all you could.
As Sage's condition worsens, he's reluctant to let you suffer for what he feels is his own fault. But when he has to stumble into a row of hedges outside to be ill, he also doesn't pull away when you're there to quietly help him off his knees (he does, however, curse and mutter that he wished he could've sprinted a bit further to spare you. You shake your head to shush him- he's still trembling and stiff from the panic of it, and you reach out and give him the gentlest hug regardless).
You hold a cup of water to Sage's mouth when he starts sweating and shivering feverishly in the hours that follow. Against your advice he grabs the cup and swallows too much, hissing sharply a moment later when he's nearly being sick into his cupped hand rather than ruining your bedroom. By willpower alone, he manages to keep the water down. In the next cup you give him, you infuse a herb which Sage once showed you, which seems to help.
At first, his eyes narrow in hostility every time you try to make him drink, his jaw gritted in a tight grimace as he turns his head away. He gives a low, warning growl when you don't back down, but you call his bluff, you know he isn't going to hurt you. You slip your hand behind his head so that he can drink without choking, and Sage's eyes darken, his lip curling dangerously toward his sharper teeth. Despite this show of antagonism, Sage surprises you by giving your wrist a small, grateful squeeze as you help him drink.
Just as Sage appears to drift to sleep, he sinks into a troubled dream, gasping and trembling beneath the thin blanket you've placed over him. You try to softly pull him out of it, but the dream only becomes more violent, Sage seems to be trying to claw his way out of the bed and you're worried he'll hurt himself while his wounds still haven't healed.
You try to gently sit atop him, pushing him down by the shoulders as Sage clumsily attempts to throw you off, breathing hard.
"Sage, Sage, it's okay, calm down," you try in a reassuring voice, it isn't easy to wrestle him even in his weakened state. "It's alright, you're okay..."
Sage's eyes suddenly open, he looks wildly up at you, his hair plastered to his face with sweat. His body slackens as the fight leaves him, his breathing raspy as his chest heaves up and down.
He takes your hand and presses the backs of your fingers shakily against his face as he recovers, his eyes closing as if his whole body aches. The outer corners of his eyes are wet, though Sage doesn't seem to realise it.
Sage is familiar enough with injuries to guess some of what's happened, though he didn't think it would get so bad that you'd have to intervene. As much as he selfishly wanted you by his side, he winces as he realises he was also probably yelling for you to get out of here. He's too ashamed to apologise to you, but he forces himself to say he knows it wouldn't have been easy for you to help him while he was deliriously shouting at you to leave.
Sage gruffly admits that not letting anyone see you in a tight spot is an instinct he learned growing up on the streets. He also says he knows what it feels like to see someone in pain and be powerless.
You're sincere when you tell him that you're just relieved he's okay. And... you're not sure if he'll want to hear this, but that wasn't what he said to you.
Sage's ears droop worridley, as if there are several more secrets he could've spilled that are far, far worse.
"Ah, I just mean-" you say, not meaning to rattle him, "...you didn't tell me to go. Actually, whenever you tried to talk... the only thing you asked was if I'd stay."
Sage pinches his nose, his expression unreadable. His brow furrows, before he quietly coughs and says he wishes he could hug you, but he knows he's a mess right now, even for him.
You gently lay next to him and gather him in your arms again regardless. His expression looks even more pained when you do, and he presses his face into the crook of your arm, not wanting to show you his face for a while.
You can tell he feels a bit better when his ears prick up a little, and he weakly grins and asks you... if this would be the first fight he's nearly won in his sleep.
When you ask why his relic wasn't able to kill him- if that were even the intention- Sage gives a cautious shrug and reminds you that relics choose their knight. Just because Elowen has Sage's relic, it doesn't mean she can wield its full power. A relic is something that has to be earned.
"Then maybe you can earn yours back," you say softly.
His free hand drifting to the hilt of his sword, Sage tries to smile. Not several nights past, you'd seen the same weapon buried in the back of one of his oldest friends, when Sage had tried to save you.
"Maybe," he whispers back.