It would take another day for the worst of it to take effect. For now he just was hot, sore, and cranky, and-


“Fjord, sweetheart, are you sure you want to take the floor?” Molly asked, and he blinked at the tiefling, sitting on the bed, eyes narrowed in concern. “If it helps, I promise I won’t molest you in your sleep.”


Fjord sniffed; his sense of smell always got stronger right before a heat, and the stench of mildew and rot was overpowering. Molly smelled… well, he knew what interest smelled like. But-


“Don’t think I won’t charm you for your own good,” Molly threatened. “And you look like shit.”
Fjord almost growled. Almost, because he never growled, because that would just be letting people think he was the monster they saw. He couldn’t do that.


He couldn’t be less than human, even if he was a half-orc.


“I’m fine-”


Molly sighed. “Have it your way-”


He didn’t feel it, this time, but was feeling so out of it he didn’t know if he would. Instead he just gave in and laid down on the bed without protest.


“Now, you have to tell me what’s going on,” Molly answered, sitting beside him. Cool fingers brushed his forehead, and he heard the tiefling swear under his breath. “You’re burning up.”


“Do I have to?” Fjord muttered. “It’s embarrassing.”


“You can be embarrassed once you’re well.” Fjord didn’t react when Molly gently brushed his hair off his face. “This isn’t normal. I really should be getting Jester-”


“No- no-” he didn’t want her to see. To know. He liked being her knight in shining armor, even if he was playing pretend. “It- this is.” He took a deep breath, let it hiss out. “It’s… it’s normal. I’m- please don’t tell anyone.”


Molly’s red eyes fixed on him. “I’m a master of secrets. I promise. Nothing leaves this room.”


“Fuck… I’m… starting my heat.” He could feel his body temperature still ratcheting up; his skin felt dry and tight, his stomach was churning as something inside him swelled and ripened. Getting ready to quicken. He prayed to anyone who would listen that the sweat and slick wouldn’t start until later. As much later as he could get.


There was silence for a few moments. “So, what Caleb said about half-orcs-”


“I lied.”


The fingers in his hair kept stroking. “I thought you had. You looked pretty spooked. I wasn’t sure about what, but, well, it wasn’t any of our business anyways.” He sighed. “So… what should we do for you?”


Fjord shuddered. His first fear had been that Molly would offer to ‘help’ him, like some of the other sailors had. Like Sabian had. That he would be taken out and humiliated when he was weak as a newborn kitten and his senses so swamped that he couldn’t tell what the fuck was happening.


“Most times,” and his accent wobbled, had a stomach churning moment because he couldn’t be sure - and hoped against hope he had kept his voice as Vandran’s- “Most times, I find a room with a sturdy door for a day or two, drink myself into a stupor or find a potion and try to sleep it out.”


“The smut books didn’t really cover this part,” Molly said softly. “So you want us to leave you to it? We can take an extra day. How aware are you?”


“Not a lot. Usually hurting too much.”


Molly’s eyes narrowed. “We can find something for the pain. But what about the whole, um-”


“Not keeping my legs closed, a little slut?” The Asylum nurse’s words echoed in his ears. Childhood bullies surrounded him, taunting and urging each other on as he struggled under- no. Not now. Don’t go there now. “Turning into a whore?”


Molly’s fingers tightened. “The hell? Who told you- your accent changed, Fjord. No, goddamnit. You aren’t bad for wanting sex, and just wanting sex doesn’t mean anyone has to right to-” He choked. Fjord thought he saw his other hand clench in the scratchy wool blanket. “That’s- I’m going to get something for you to drink. You’re burning up.”


Fjord closed his eyes; the mattress rocked and the door opened and closed. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, Molly was there again, urging him up so he could put a flagon to his lips.


“Drink up.”


Given how his stomach had churned, he was surprised to find himself able to drink most of it without throwing it back up. “Now- I made some excuses that you picked up something in the swamp.” Molly had put one of his hands behind Fjord’s back, and he was starting to shiver and lean into him; the warm radiating off Molly’s body drew him in. “Will you be okay by yourself?”


Fjord looked at him through bleary eyes. “Shouldn’t that charm spell have worn off by now?”


Molly bent his lips upward. “It would if I had ever cast it.”


Fjord flipped him off, curling in tight as he started to shake. “Fucking hell, Molly-” He looked over in time to see the small smile vanish off his face.


“Now, this can’t be-”


“One of the bad ones,” Fjord muttered. He hated when the shakes started. It usually meant a blur of the next day. “But it’s normal.”


More swearing. “Can I touch you? I mean, it would have been lovely to know that this was coming up so we could, possibly, have found a safe place and how to prepare and-”


“It’s late. Was due just before. The explosion.”


Molly pursed his lips. “All right. I’m glad you’ve kept talking to me.” He felt his warm body against his back, while lips that seemed impossibly cool were against his forehead. “This is awful. Can I take your clothes off, so I can get you into- no, that’s not coming out right. Can I put you into bed and get your armor off so you’ll be comfortable?”


Fjord tensed, braced himself, and nodded.


To his shock… Molly just helped him out of his armor. No unwelcome touches. No mockery. Just brisk, business-like actions and then Molly settling down beside him in the bed, sans boots and coat.


Usually the most clothing Molly, at best, would wear to sleep was his underwear-


“I’m not sleeping in the water, Fjord,” he said, drily. “But I’m not touching you unless you want to be touched, you understand?”


Fjord nodded. He was wrapped up in the blankets as Molly curled up next to him. “You need anything, let me know, okay?”


Another nod, and Molly settled down to sleep.


// The silence ached.


The lack of sound meant his mind was filling in the gaps; he thought he caught the sound of Beau calling his name, of Molly’s soft endearments in his ear. But nothing. Just empty, constant silence.


It almost wept when he could hear again.


His legs were a knotted mess as he was dragged out and marched to another set of cages, collapsing a few times before he was pulled to his feet and shoved somewhere else. He looked over to Jester and Yasha, both of them staring at him in the dark.


Around them were sobs, muffled cries, the smell of piss and fear.


They were there maybe a short time before one of their captors swung free the door, and looked at the three of them with speculation in her eyes.


“Well, bitches, who is going first?”


He hadn’t been able to act before, and he was exhausted- but he could do this. He struggled upwards to his knees, throwing himself bodily between his friends and their nightmare.


“Well. Always nice to have a volunteer.” //