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Babylon 5 fic: Safeguard
After the cavalcade of pain in recent episodes, I had a need for some comfort.
Safeguard - 1200 wds, light hurt/comfort, slight AU of the hallway fight in 5x09.
Also posted on AO3.
The first thing Londo did as soon as they were safely back in his quarters -- G'Kar shepherding him in, closing the door behind them, checking the lock -- was pour himself a drink and toss down half of it.
His nerves were still jangling; he felt disconnected, jittery. Decades in the Centauri royal court had inured him to the ever-present threat of assassination attempts, or so he'd thought, and by now he had carried out more than one high-profile assassination himself. But knowing it in theory was not the same as watching a knife quivering point-first mere inches from his chest. And then it had done -- what?
"Do you want a drink?" he asked G'Kar.
There was no immediate answer. While Londo refilled his glass, G'Kar prowled around the room, looking into corners and checking the bedroom, all in a tense silence. He finally sank down in a chair with a soft sound, not a groan exactly, but it was that noise -- combined with the fact that he had gone down in a controlled collapse rather than sitting down normally -- that finally made Londo really notice him, pulling out of a dazed reverie.
"Are you all right?"
"Fine," G'Kar said tersely. He adjusted himself a little, and Londo became aware that G'Kar was holding his arm stiffly against his chest. A jarring bolt of alarm went through him, chasing more of the cobwebs from his brain along with the bracing effect of the drink.
"You are hurt. They stabbed you." Londo set his glass down. "Let me see it."
"I've had worse," G'Kar muttered.
"Yes, you are a fierce and terrible Narn, I know that already. Let me see anyway."
He crouched in front of G'Kar and reached for the layers of leather and flexible plate guarding his torso. G'Kar, after a moment, moving more slowly than usual, batted Londo's hands off and carefully unbuckled the various straps holding the sections in place. As his armor came away, it became clear that the knife had gone in at an angle under his arm, slipping between two plates. His loosely woven undershirt was saturated with blood.
"Great Maker, when were you going to mention this?"
"You are aware now, so consider it reported," G'Kar said with a flash of amusement in his mismatched eyes.
Londo found a small first-aid kit in the bathroom, and wet a hand towel in the sink. It turned out that with most of the blood wiped away, the blade had opened a long shallow cut against G'Kar's ribs. It didn't look too bad, particularly by Narn standards, but Londo noticed as he cleaned it that G'Kar was shivering, his skin tone having developed a grayish tinge that Londo did not like at all.
"There was likely poison on the blade." There probably had been poison on the blade thrown at his chest, as well; Vole's swift collapse suggested it. He wrenched his mind away from that memory and its implications. "You should see a physician immediately."
"Call me paranoid," G'Kar said dryly, "but I doubt that's a good idea."
He was right, given the court intrigue swirling around them. Londo grasped for solutions. It was likely that the glancing blow, combined with G'Kar's Narn constitution, meant that he hadn't gotten a dangerous dose. But it was a hell of a risk to take.
"I believe you mentioned a drink," G'Kar said, in a pointed tone.
"Here, hold this." Londo pressed G'Kar's hand over the folded, bloody cloth, wiped his own bloody hands, and went to pour a glass of brivari. He paused and then fetched something else from a drawer.
"What is that?" G'Kar asked sharply when Londo tipped two of the capsules into the glass of brivari, where they fizzed and vanished.
"It's ..." Londo grimaced. "It's a stimulant and neural cleanser to counteract the effects of overindulgence in drink. Don't look at me like that. It's useful. And most Centauri poisons used in court assassinations affect the nervous system, so a mild neural enhancer will help you shake it off."
"It's safe for Narns?"
"I'm reasonably sure." At G'Kar's expressive look, he clarified. "I brought it from Babylon 5, not here. Bought in the Zocalo. Usually anything unsafe for use by any of the common galactic races is labeled."
"I'm glad you're willing to trust my life to the labeling scruples of a random merchant in the Zocalo."
"And I'm glad you're willing to trust your life to your much-storied Narn healing abilities, but I'd like a little more insurance, myself!" Londo realized that he was starting to raise his voice, and reined himself in. He held out the glass. "I really do think it is safe for Narns. I would not give it to you otherwise. These are widely used by many species."
It should not have pleased him as much as it did that G'Kar took the glass without further complaint and drank. Then he made a face. "You Centauri have the worst taste in alcohol."
"This is twenty-year-old brivari, kept at the perfect temperature for all of that time. Most never have a chance to taste such a thing."
"They are the lucky ones. It is terrible."
"Shut up and drink it."
"Sickly sweet. Syrupy."
"You have an opportunity few will ever enjoy, and of course you must complain constantly." Londo crouched beside G'Kar's chair and peeled the blood-sticky cloth carefully from the cut, which was still seeping sluggishly, although it had stopped bleeding for the most part. He pressed seal-strips to the cut and winced at the clammy, bloody fabric around it. "Would you like something else to wear?"
"I doubt if your Centauri fripperies would be more comfortable."
Londo brought a spare robe from the bedroom anyway. He draped it over G'Kar, who pulled it close like a blanket; he was half-drowsing with his elbow on the arm of the chair, hand lightly curled around the mostly empty glass of brivari.
"You are well enough?" Londo asked. "Do you want to sleep, or talk?" He was too agitated to sleep himself, but if G'Kar wished to fall asleep in the chair, or on the couch beside it, he could go read; it was not such a great matter.
"Talk," G'Kar said.
"Oh, good." Londo poured more brivari and sank onto the couch beside the chair. G'Kar twisted his body slightly, turning to look at him without shifting position too much under the robe. Londo was no great judge of Narn skin tone, but G'Kar's looked better, more like his usual color than the grayish tint earlier. "We may have a concerning situation here. Shall I lay out for you everything that happened earlier, after we were separated?"
"Yes," G'Kar said. He sipped at the dregs of the brivari, made a face, and settled himself a little more comfortably in the chair, his shivering settling somewhat. "Let us talk of what happened after the door dropped down. You said the knife spun around in front of you?"
"Yes! I do not know why. I can think of some explanations, I suppose."
"I would like to hear them."
Londo waved a hand to dim the lights, and they talked into the night. G'Kar kept breathing, steady and slow, sometimes a bit sleepy, but answering him readily every time.
Safeguard - 1200 wds, light hurt/comfort, slight AU of the hallway fight in 5x09.
Also posted on AO3.
The first thing Londo did as soon as they were safely back in his quarters -- G'Kar shepherding him in, closing the door behind them, checking the lock -- was pour himself a drink and toss down half of it.
His nerves were still jangling; he felt disconnected, jittery. Decades in the Centauri royal court had inured him to the ever-present threat of assassination attempts, or so he'd thought, and by now he had carried out more than one high-profile assassination himself. But knowing it in theory was not the same as watching a knife quivering point-first mere inches from his chest. And then it had done -- what?
"Do you want a drink?" he asked G'Kar.
There was no immediate answer. While Londo refilled his glass, G'Kar prowled around the room, looking into corners and checking the bedroom, all in a tense silence. He finally sank down in a chair with a soft sound, not a groan exactly, but it was that noise -- combined with the fact that he had gone down in a controlled collapse rather than sitting down normally -- that finally made Londo really notice him, pulling out of a dazed reverie.
"Are you all right?"
"Fine," G'Kar said tersely. He adjusted himself a little, and Londo became aware that G'Kar was holding his arm stiffly against his chest. A jarring bolt of alarm went through him, chasing more of the cobwebs from his brain along with the bracing effect of the drink.
"You are hurt. They stabbed you." Londo set his glass down. "Let me see it."
"I've had worse," G'Kar muttered.
"Yes, you are a fierce and terrible Narn, I know that already. Let me see anyway."
He crouched in front of G'Kar and reached for the layers of leather and flexible plate guarding his torso. G'Kar, after a moment, moving more slowly than usual, batted Londo's hands off and carefully unbuckled the various straps holding the sections in place. As his armor came away, it became clear that the knife had gone in at an angle under his arm, slipping between two plates. His loosely woven undershirt was saturated with blood.
"Great Maker, when were you going to mention this?"
"You are aware now, so consider it reported," G'Kar said with a flash of amusement in his mismatched eyes.
Londo found a small first-aid kit in the bathroom, and wet a hand towel in the sink. It turned out that with most of the blood wiped away, the blade had opened a long shallow cut against G'Kar's ribs. It didn't look too bad, particularly by Narn standards, but Londo noticed as he cleaned it that G'Kar was shivering, his skin tone having developed a grayish tinge that Londo did not like at all.
"There was likely poison on the blade." There probably had been poison on the blade thrown at his chest, as well; Vole's swift collapse suggested it. He wrenched his mind away from that memory and its implications. "You should see a physician immediately."
"Call me paranoid," G'Kar said dryly, "but I doubt that's a good idea."
He was right, given the court intrigue swirling around them. Londo grasped for solutions. It was likely that the glancing blow, combined with G'Kar's Narn constitution, meant that he hadn't gotten a dangerous dose. But it was a hell of a risk to take.
"I believe you mentioned a drink," G'Kar said, in a pointed tone.
"Here, hold this." Londo pressed G'Kar's hand over the folded, bloody cloth, wiped his own bloody hands, and went to pour a glass of brivari. He paused and then fetched something else from a drawer.
"What is that?" G'Kar asked sharply when Londo tipped two of the capsules into the glass of brivari, where they fizzed and vanished.
"It's ..." Londo grimaced. "It's a stimulant and neural cleanser to counteract the effects of overindulgence in drink. Don't look at me like that. It's useful. And most Centauri poisons used in court assassinations affect the nervous system, so a mild neural enhancer will help you shake it off."
"It's safe for Narns?"
"I'm reasonably sure." At G'Kar's expressive look, he clarified. "I brought it from Babylon 5, not here. Bought in the Zocalo. Usually anything unsafe for use by any of the common galactic races is labeled."
"I'm glad you're willing to trust my life to the labeling scruples of a random merchant in the Zocalo."
"And I'm glad you're willing to trust your life to your much-storied Narn healing abilities, but I'd like a little more insurance, myself!" Londo realized that he was starting to raise his voice, and reined himself in. He held out the glass. "I really do think it is safe for Narns. I would not give it to you otherwise. These are widely used by many species."
It should not have pleased him as much as it did that G'Kar took the glass without further complaint and drank. Then he made a face. "You Centauri have the worst taste in alcohol."
"This is twenty-year-old brivari, kept at the perfect temperature for all of that time. Most never have a chance to taste such a thing."
"They are the lucky ones. It is terrible."
"Shut up and drink it."
"Sickly sweet. Syrupy."
"You have an opportunity few will ever enjoy, and of course you must complain constantly." Londo crouched beside G'Kar's chair and peeled the blood-sticky cloth carefully from the cut, which was still seeping sluggishly, although it had stopped bleeding for the most part. He pressed seal-strips to the cut and winced at the clammy, bloody fabric around it. "Would you like something else to wear?"
"I doubt if your Centauri fripperies would be more comfortable."
Londo brought a spare robe from the bedroom anyway. He draped it over G'Kar, who pulled it close like a blanket; he was half-drowsing with his elbow on the arm of the chair, hand lightly curled around the mostly empty glass of brivari.
"You are well enough?" Londo asked. "Do you want to sleep, or talk?" He was too agitated to sleep himself, but if G'Kar wished to fall asleep in the chair, or on the couch beside it, he could go read; it was not such a great matter.
"Talk," G'Kar said.
"Oh, good." Londo poured more brivari and sank onto the couch beside the chair. G'Kar twisted his body slightly, turning to look at him without shifting position too much under the robe. Londo was no great judge of Narn skin tone, but G'Kar's looked better, more like his usual color than the grayish tint earlier. "We may have a concerning situation here. Shall I lay out for you everything that happened earlier, after we were separated?"
"Yes," G'Kar said. He sipped at the dregs of the brivari, made a face, and settled himself a little more comfortably in the chair, his shivering settling somewhat. "Let us talk of what happened after the door dropped down. You said the knife spun around in front of you?"
"Yes! I do not know why. I can think of some explanations, I suppose."
"I would like to hear them."
Londo waved a hand to dim the lights, and they talked into the night. G'Kar kept breathing, steady and slow, sometimes a bit sleepy, but answering him readily every time.
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"Yes! I do not know why. I can think of some explanations, I suppose."
I was literally just thinking while out walking that Londo had to have told G'Kar what happened on the other side of the door, otherwise G'Kar would not have been able to discuss the factional situation in the palace with such certainty later on. So I am glad you drew out this detail in fic, although the hangover cure is also a favorite.
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:whisper: I loved Delenn but not her hairrrrr!
P.S.
Re: P.S.
(I've gotten used to Delenn's hair by this point in the show, but I absolutely cannot figure out how it works with her vestigial head thing. Those things are clearly attached to their heads, so how in the world does she brush or style it?)
Re: P.S.
She's an anime character. :) :) :)
:flees: