First Officer's Log, Supplemental
There has been an altercation between Vaarsuvius and Mr. Bitterleaf, which I intercepted before anyone was hurt. Vaarsuvius has disappeared further into the ruins, which are likely to be heavily trapped and infested with the undead. I have decided to investigate, after hearing what seems to be a disturbance up ahead. Hopefully, I shall be able to offer assistance before the situation becomes too dangerous.
Spock followed Vaarsuvius' path further into the tomb, a Dancing Lights spell the only illumination. He finally found the elf in another burial chamber, surrounded by its undead denizens. There were dozens of cuts on the elf's face from their spears. Despite the ankle pinned by a misplaced rock, scattered bones indicated that Vaarsuvius had fought back quite well, but a lucky grapple attempt by a skeleton had put a stop to that. Spock drew his phaser and fired, neatly disintegrating the skeleton and drawing the attention of the rest of the horde.
He tried to fire again, but there was no response. Between the dimensional travel and week of neglect, much of the charge seemed to have drained. He dropped the useless device, calculations of the odds dashing through his mind unbidden. A spell would be his best option, but he only had a few remaining. If he misfired even once.…
"Fireball!" The whole swarm was engulfed by flames, and light flooded the cavern. Spock blinked a bit. Vaarsuvius was sitting up, looking cross and tired. Blackwing fluttered over.
"Impressive," Spock remarked, making his way across the slightly smoldering remains. "I am sorry if I startled you, Vaarsuvius. Perhaps it was not logical for me to come myself. You are far more experienced than I."
"Not at all. You provided an excellent distraction. I was not able to use some of my more powerful spells with them so close." There was a slightly pregnant pause. Blackwing nudged Vaarsuvius with his beak. "I apologize for my behavior early," Vaarsuvius said at last, sounding more cross than apologetic. "It was idiotic of me."
"Perhaps not the best choice, no," he remarked, pushing the rock aside and kneeling down to examine the elf. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"No." Another pause, another nudge from Blackwing. "You were correct in what you said. I cannot allow myself to lose control. I will eventually do something extremely regrettable." Vaarsuvius looked down, seeming almost ashamed. "No – I have already done something I regret."
"I have been told I am not particularly skilled as a confidant, but if you do wish to tell me…"
A shake of the head. "I would prefer not to mention it."
'Very well then. You are sure you are unharmed?" He moved his hand delicately across the elf's face, feeling for any wounds. It paused momentarily at Vaarsuvius' ear. The elf trembled a bit. "They are surprisingly different in shape," Spock remarked.
"Yes…" The usual verbosity was gone, as delicate hand held delicate ear. Their faces were very close together, for a moment that seemed to last an eternity.
And then, someone leaned a little closer…
The kiss lasted only a second or so, until both of them moved back, as if they were startled that the other reciprocated. Blackwing crowed quietly. An attitude of abject embarrassment seemed to suddenly permeate the scene.
Vaarsuvius broke the silence this time, thankful the dim light hid what might have been a blush. "I apolgize for having taken any liberties – I was not thinking – my ears are… unusually sensitive."
"I do not believe you need to apologize. I would certainly not characterize your response as unpleasant." He changed the subject quickly. "Your ankle appears to be injured. Do you need any assistance? I could carry you if you cannot support your weight."
"It does not work like that," snapped Vaarsuvius. "As long as my hitpoints remain, I am perfectly capable of walk – urgh." The elf staggered painfully. "Perhaps a little support would not be amiss.”
Arm in arm, they headed for the mouth of the tomb.