Ricken awoke with a start, out of breath, tears welling in his eyes, his entire body shaking. It was a night terror, obviously. There was blood, gore, and death, he could recall that much. The details had already slipped his mind, and the terror that had once gripped him seemed pointless now. He tried to slow his heart rate, get a real grasp on reality... But that's when he realized...

He stared down at his bedding. He didn't know what to do. He had these dreams before, yes. But this… no, this never happened. He knew that others were up at this hour so he could not just simply go out and hang his blankets and sleep wear. He cursed himself for going to bed so early, and also wishing others did not go to bed so late. His frown deepened the more he dwelled upon it. He balled his fist up in his blanket. He knew he should go air out everything... Everyone would see... The idea alone was enough to make his cheeks burn. Only children wet the bed. He was not a child, he has reminded everyone that time and time again. For this to happen was just embarrassing. It made his efforts seem all for not.

He took a deep breath and slowly peeled off the blanket that was over him. It was still warm, and that realization only made the boy shutter. He held his breath and stepped away from the damp bed. He slowly slipped off his pants and small clothes, being sure not touch the wet patches before tossing them to the bed and going to find new pants. In the dark it was difficult to do. Once he was done he turned back to the pile of tainted fabrics.

He grimaced to himself, sure his eyes had adjusted but the wet spots were near impossible to see. He did not want to touch his shameful mess. His wet bedding. It was so damn childish. With a deep breath he gathered the sheets in his arms, praying none the warm wet liquid that was soaked deep into the sheets would touch him.

He peeked out of the tent scanning for any souls who may have still been up at the ungodly hour. No one, in sight at least. Ricken sighed in relief, slipping out of the tent. He would just have to air it all out on the back of his tent and bring it in before sun rise. Staying up so late... All night... The idea alone made the tired boy's stomach twist. He wantmageo stay in top notch condition to prove himself to be a strong mage, an adult. Not a child. Not some child who wet the goddamn bed.

He made sure to keep quiet, even to the extent of tiptoeing around until he felt he was safe behind his tent. Quickly, he went to spread everything out. Soon he had set his blankets out and now for his pants...

"Ricken, what are you doin' up so late?" A familiar cheerful voice chimed, shooting a shiver up Ricken's spine. He spun and stared at Henry. He opened his mouth to speak, however no words left his lips. Upon seeing his friend's face a flood of memories of his night terror hit him like a tsunami wave would a beach. He felt himself go pale, begin to shake. He no longer knew if it was from being caught with pee drenched bedding or from the bits of the horrific dream he was just been reminded of.

"Hm? What's wrong, Ricken? It looks like you have just seen a ghost! Nya ha!"

Ricken couldn't help but wonder if Henry noticed the wet bed sheets. He took a deep breath, breaking his stare away from the other mage, "Why are you up..? G-go to bed." He said, trying to shift his attention to the matter at hand rather than a dream that was no more than the war taking a toll on his mental health.

"I asked you first."

Ricken frowned, his cheeks burning. Was Henry just playing dumb? Or did he want to embarrass the young mage more by saying it. Ricken stayed quiet, shuffling his feet slightly. He still couldn't force his eyes to Henry's.

After quite an agonizing moment Henry spoke again, this time with realisation in his voice. Still, it was not without cheer, "Oh, I get it," Henry said, pointing at the pants and small cloths Ricken had yet to spread out to dry, "You had an accident. Whoopsies!" He laughed a bit.

Ricken pouted, he couldn't help but feel mocked even if he knew Henry was just… like that. Still, he gave a frustrated sigh and mustered up the calmest, quietest voice he could, "Could… You not say that so loud," he asked, glancing down at the clothing still in his grasp, "And could you maybe not tell anyone?"

Henry didn't hesitate to nod and give a simple, "Uh-huh."

"Thanks," Ricken said, turning his back to his friend to air out the rest of his little mess.

"Where are you gonna sleep now?" Henry inquired, giving a glance over at everything, "And can't you just use wind magic to dry it?"

Ricken had to admit, he hadn't thought of that. He thought over it before shaking his head, "I'd probably just lose it… Blow it way off into the forest or something," He grumbled, "Plus what if it hits another tent and wakes the others up? And… sleeping. I don't think I can anymore. I have to be up to put all this back, right?" He asked, spreading out the last of the wet articles and turned back to his friend. Skittishly crossing his arms and flattening his hands to his side. He knew how red his cheeks must have still been, he felt as if Henry could feel the heat radiating off them from where he stood. It was such a contrast with the cold, dry night air. Still, Henry seemed to pay no mind to any of that. He stayed surprisingly nonchalant about all of this, Ricken didn't know if it bothered him or pleased him. He knew Henry—despite how joking and childish he seemed—wouldn't purposely do anything to torment him. Sure, Henry was remarkably dense when it came to reading human emotion and social situations so accidental torment was a common occurrence, however that little fact was only more confusing to the young mage. No one should be so casual about this.

"Nya ha! You're funny, you couldn't stay up all night," Henry retained his less than quiet voice, only making Ricken pout again. "You fall asleep mid read—and once when you were really tired mid walk!"

Ricken sighed, which seemed to be something he did a lot of around Henry, "But I had a couple hours of sleep already, I'll be fine. Plus, I don't trust myself to wake before day break… I really don't want everyone in camp to know."

"Hmm.." Henry tapped his chin in thought, "I could just take 'em down."

"You have to sleep too."

"Yeah, but I would hex myself to wake up at whatever time!" Henry chimed, "Sure, the effect might not go away for a few days… Buuut you know, the early bird gets the worm! Or rather the goodies the crows pick off the battlefield… hehe…"

Ricken decided against asking about the crows, just thinking out it made his stomach turn and his nose scrunch up. He tried to shake the idea, "Would you really do that for me…?"

"Yeah! Of course! Friends do that kinda stuff for each other, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Ricken said, forcing a smile. Still, that forced smile was short lived, "That begs the question… Where would I sleep for the rest of the night?"

"My tent," Henry said nearly instantly after Ricken finished his sentence.

Ricken finally glanced up at him, giving a sceptical look. Still, Henry's merry smile didn't fade. "What if I…" His eyes flicked away, his voice dropping to a near inaudible volume, "Wet the bed again?"

"Don't be silly! You've already emptied your bladder, I think I'm safe." Henry said with another laugh. Of course, the comment only made Ricken squirm more, and at this point he was sure his face was glowing red it felt so hot. Again, it seemed as if no mind was paid to Ricken's uncomfortable mannerisms. Henry simply began to head back to his tent, humming a fairly delightful tune to himself. Hesitantly, Ricken brought himself to follow. His eyes flickering left and right like some sort of paranoid maniac for any other people that may have overheard them.

He had never been in Henry's tent before. Normally, they would go study magic in the barracks or the forest alongside small animals. Perhaps once or twice in Ricken's tent. He half expected there to be evil charms and the bones for their enemies littering the ground. Perhaps some shrine worshipping some demonic entity. Honestly, he was expecting no less than a room alike some ritualistic sacrifice cult room. However, upon entering he was surprised to see it wasn't nearly as bad as he imagined. It was a normal tent with a normal place to sleep, a pile of tomes, a half melted lit candle, and a bag with questionable content in the corner. Ricken tried not to think too much of the bag and its possible contents.

"I thought your tent would be a lot more… evil layery," Ricken sincerely remarked, only earning a giggle in response. Henry made his way to his mess of blankets he called a bed, scooting as far over to the tent wall as possible and patting the spot beside him. The bed was so small… Of course, it was only made for one. And despite both the boys being fairly small it would still be a tight squeeze to fit them both. Perhaps it would even for them into a cuddling situation. Ricken tried to dispel the thought, even if it was a rather pleasing one, and crawled his way into bed beside his best friend.

Ricken lay, curled up. His back to Henry who hadn't moved from laying on his back. He daydreamed of his friend rolling to his side and wrapping his arms around him. Whisper sweet words to him and embarrass him. Make his cheeks burn a bright rosy pink and his heart skip a beat. Make him squirm and giggle...

Ricken shook his head, nonsense. All of it. It was stupid. Henry hadn't moved and it was all stupid fantasy. However, a stupid fantasy he couldn't get out of his head.

He sighed to himself, disappointed and embarrassed by his own thoughts. This was his best friend he was thinking about. For god sakes, they were sharing the bed. These were hardly things that should be crossing his mind. However, it was better than the alternative. The nightmare he had been seemingly cursed with upon befriending Henry.

"Hmm?" Henry answered to Ricken's sigh.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

Ricken paused, having to come up with something quickly, "My nightmare," his voice was unsure and as soon as his excuse left his mouth he wanted to just put his foot in his mouth.

"Hmm..." Ricken could feel Henry shift his position, probably to face him, "Wonna tell me about it? Maybe its a hex."

Ricken pressed his lips together before shrugging and moving to face his fellow mage, "Well it's just... You just... I have to watch you die, and its so gory and I can't do anything about it. I'm just so useless and all I can do is watch and… just there is a battle axe and it gets inbedded in.. your..." he paused, "I know that sounds like probably... A normal... Happy dream for you. It's scary to me."

Henry frowned, but it wasn't long until a smile reappeared on his pale face, "Ah.. Don't worry! I won't die as long as you don't want me to!"

Ricken forced a smile, "Right..."

Henry let his smile fade for a moment before rolling back onto his back. Even with his lackluster judgment of human emotion he could tell Ricken remained unconvinced. Slowly and softly he patted his chest, "sleep here."

"What?" Ricken asked both skeptically and shocked.

"Ya know, put your head on my chest and sleep." Henry chuckled slightly, "You're dreaming of me dying, right? So if you can hear my heartbeat in your dream you'll know its just a dream and you can wake up or change your dream. Like lucid dreaming or whatever nya ha."

Ricken thought it would be a bit weird to just jump at the offer. However he was very eager to. He hesitated to act as if he was wagering his options before muttering what was to pose as a defeated sigh, "I don't think that's how all this works, but fine. Its worth a shot."

Ricken awkwardly shuffle closer to Henry. He was unsure of how to go about this. Unsure if he was only supposed to put his head there or if he was allowed to rest an arm on him too. Before he could figure it out he felt Henry's arms wrap around him and pull him on to his chest. Ricken was flustered, his heart was beating too fast to even hear Henry's. And Henry did not move his arms, they stayed around the boy, keeping him close. Ricken tensed up.

"You comfy?" Henry asked, pulling Ricken back to reality.

"I.. This... This is really close." Was all he manages to say. He felt stupid for pointing out such an obvious fact.

"Well yeah! You have to hear my heart, silly! You couldnt hear it from all the way over there… Unless I pulled it out… But that would defeat the purpose," He laughed a bit. To Ricken it both sounded and felt weird. He nearly wanted to ask Henry to stop, but kept quiet.

"This is cuddling, Henry," Ricken honestly didn't know why he kept fighting it, or pointing out such idiotic things. He liked this, being close. Having Henry's arms around him. It felt right. It made him feel safe.

"I guess it is, nya ha ha!" Henry said, as I playful and uncaring as ever. Still, he pulled the younger mage close. It was subtle, but it was enough to show Ricken that Henry was fully aware that fact... Cuddling so close while preparing to fall asleep wasn't something friends did, the statement even more true when it came to boys. Ricken smiled, slowly moving to adjust himself into a comfortable position. The young mage hesitantly laced his legs around Henry's. Henry made no comment and just let the boy curl up as close as he could.

Their actions said enough. Really, words seemed trivial, even for the oh so talkative Henry. Frankly, the simplistic, yet greatly trusting act of sleeping was about the only thing that could be said more.

To no ones surprise the sound of Henry's heartbeat and the feeling of his arms holding the other close did warn away all the terrible night terrors. If anything it brought an array of pleasant dreams.

Although Henry had forgotten to place that 'wake up' hex, the two still got up in time to take away the evidence of Ricken's accident the night prior... Of course, only due to an equally embarrassing more-and dare one say-more grown up incident that too required a new pair of pants on Ricken's part.

Perhaps his dreams ended up a bit too pleasant.