The Strangers in the Palace (Closed)(Fantasy)

Arquis quietly watched them. When they were done, he took the towel, put it aside, and handed him the clothes that he’d picked out. He paused to cup their cheek for just a moment. His thumb gently swept over their temple, wiping away a remaining water droplet. Then, with a soft smile, he backed away.

“I am going to fetch your tea, my dear. Please do feel free to get into bed during my absence. You look drained.”

As soon as he went to the bedroom door, however, he was startled to find someone outside. It was the woman from earlier, the one with the sword. She was holding a tea tray with cups, a kettle, and a pitcher of water. There was also a small basket of plain napkins.

“Honey chamomile,” she said, which was barely an explanation. She thrust the tray his way.

He blinked. “Ah, pardon me?”

“Lovey sent it. Honey said it’s for the bard. Said he was sick.”

“I see. Thank you very much, Pretty.”

She grunted and shut the door as soon as he took the tray. He heard her footsteps fade as she walked away. Slowly, as to not slosh the tea, he set the tray down on the bedside table and waited for his partner.

Once Arquis was out of the room, Rin changed into his fresh clothes, setting the towel aside, and then headed out to the bedroom. He gave Arquis a faint smile. "That was fast." they said softly, taking a deep breath and sitting down on the bed. His hair was still damp, and a few drops of water still clung to their skin. "Thank you, darling." they pressed a soft kiss to Arquis's cheek, his skin warm with fever.

Arquis sighed at the kiss and resisted the urge to pull them closer. Instead, he stood, going to fix them a cup. The teacups were small, white, and painted with tiny purple flowers. They felt cheap but sturdy. He filled one about halfway to the brim and gently carried it over.

“I ran,” he teased, voice low. Then, a small smile playing on his lips, he admitted, “Lovey asked Pretty to bring it. She was worried about you, as am I.”

He undid the blankets with his free hand and pulled them around Rin’s knees. After lifting them over his legs, he tugged them up to their chest. His smile grew as he tucked them in. It was something he’d done to Marsiquia when she’d been a toddler. She used to get scared of all sorts of things. Monsters in her wardrobe, criminals and thieves, massive storms, beasts in the woods. Part of it was Quirisa’s fault. She’d tell her younger sister all kinda of terrible tales because the girl would ask, and Arquis would have to deal with the consequences. Not that he’d minded. She’d been sweet and silly, the type of chubby-faced child that always wanted to make people laugh.

He snapped out of his thoughts and passed the teacup to his partner, making sure not to spill it. The last thing they needed was for him to have bouts of homesickness when they were really, truly sick.

He took the cup, taking a sip of the warm tea and closing his eyes as the warm drink helped soothe and warm them from the inside. "Ah. Well, thank you anyways." he replied in a soft tone, leaning close to Arquis with a faint hum. "I hope you don't mind that I'm going to go to sleep soon. Once I, ah, finish the tea."

“Of course I do not mind,” he assured them. “I will find something to do in the meantime.”

His mind began to run through a list of possibilities. Cooking and going on walks would both require him to leave the room, which was a bad idea. They didn’t have a harp at the inn. He was secretly glad for it, but that did make the list of available activities shorter. There wasn’t much to read besides the books that he’d brought, and he’d already read most of one the day prior while waiting for Honey to wake. He hadn’t taken along anything for his lessons; he seriously doubted the inn had any bookbinding tools. Writing letters was also out of the question. There was nobody that could receive them without risking their safety.

That reminded him. “Love, did your friend write you back while we were away?”

Rin blinked a few times, glancing over at the envelope that sat on the bedside table. "I don't know. Maybe." the envelope didn't physically change when letters went in and out of it; the only way to really check was to open it up. They reached out, picking up the envelope and opening it up. He pulled out the papers inside, unfolding them. "Yeah. He did." he didn't read it yet, but he didn't put the papers back in.

Arquis’s cleared his throat. “Excellent. Are you, ah, going to read what he sent?”

He really didn’t know much about Rin’s friend or old life. Really, all he knew were small details and some of their past with Lysander. While he knew it’d be rude to dig up anything they weren’t willing to share, he was pretty curious about Ari. And nervous. Would Ari approve of their relationship, or would he recognize that Rin was too good for him? Would they ever get the chance to meet? He imagined Ari—who in his mind was just a shadowy figure—coming to the Palace and meeting his sisters. Meeting Muria. Meeting Arquis, but not the genuine Arquis, who loved sweet things and painting and bubble baths. In his head, he met the stony-eyed, cool-faced, polite Arquis. Arquis de Vey. The rumored bloodthirsty nobleman with sharp claws beneath his gloves. The thought terrified him. How had Rin ever fallen for him, when he was like that?

Rin nodded faintly. "Yes." they set their mug down, opening up the pages and starting to read, silently. He didn't speak as he read, though their face twitched every now and again as they processed various information. Once he was done, he set the pages aside. "He's close." they said, slowly. "He's visiting family just a few days away, and he wants to know if he can come here. To visit." they looked at Arquis, taking another sip of the tea.

Arquis made sure to keep his face as still as possible. This was not his choice to make. Ari was not his friend. If his presence would help Rin feel better, then there was no logical reason why he shouldn’t come to visit. Of course, Arquis was quite terrified internally. He’d been expecting to meet Ari at some point in the distant future, not within the next few days. He hadn’t even brought nice clothes. What if he thought Arquis was messy or lazy? What if he thought Rin was better off without him?

“Well, can he?” Arquis asked carefully. No emotion showed in his expression.

Rin blinked at him. "If you're alright with it, I would like him to come. But if you would rather not have a stranger come while we're both so stressed, then I understand." he drank some more of his tea, quiet and tired and still wanting to get some more sleep. Their voice was soft, as was his gaze as they looked over at him.

“If you would like him to visit, then he shall visit,” Arquis responded. Their reply had caused a warm sensation to erupt in his chest, and he smiled despite himself. He lay down on the bed beside them and rested his hand over their heart. The angle required him to look up in order to see Rin; he did so, his blue eyes impossibly soft through his black lashes.

Seeing them unfortunately only made his spiral worse. Appearing untidy was the least of his worries. What if Ari found him weak? Arrogant? Tense? What if he thought he was heavy? Rin was so lovely, even in illness. They deserved a partner that was equally beautiful. Charming, elegant, extroverted.

None of these fears showed in his face. They would stay hidden. He was a mature adult with years of practice putting on performances. He was used to wearing masks, keeping it all inside.

Rin gave him another soft, quick little smile. "Alright. I'll write back later, then." they replied, setting the envelope and papers aside, and laying down. They snuggled up close to Arquis again, letting out a soft breath and pulling the blankets up close around the both of them. "Thank you, love."

There was that word again. He shivered slightly and clamped down on the giddy feeling that blossomed inside him. It wasn’t new. They’d said it before several times, and he used it frequently. Still. To be called someone’s love, to be reminded so casually of what he meant to them—it was a lot to handle.

“There is no need to thank me. I simply wish for you to recover, my dear.” That was the truth. He didn’t want praise for doing the bare minimum. What he really desired was for them to return to health. He hated to watch him suffer and struggle in the clutches of some unknown illness. It hurt in a way he didn’t even know was possible.

“Now, enough talking. Please do get some rest.”

He hummed very faintly, and snuggled close to Arquis again. "Alright." his voice was quiet, and he closed his eyes. It didn't take long for him to fall into the clutches of sleep, pressed close to Arquis with the blankets heaped up close around him.

(is Rin gonna have a fever dream or should I do a time skip?)

Arquis saw that they’d drifted off and, with a soft sigh, kissed him on the cheek. He stood carefully to avoid disturbing them and went to the drawing supplies that had been set aside. The subject of his next drawing was unknown. He wished to draw Rin again, but he hadn’t asked for permission. And besides, their body was mostly covered by blankets; he would only be able to draw his face.

His sisters were still on his mind. Almost nervously, he began to make a rough sketch of one of his few happy memories of the two of them. They were younger. Quirisa’s hair was still long, but it was messy as ever. Marsiquia was holding a tiny bouquet of white flowers, and she was laughing as she braided them into a crown. The two of them were on the back steps. He drew the shadows of each stair and overlapped them with his sisters’ shadows. His pencils scratched as he drew the lace of their dresses and the ruffles of their sleeves.

Every now and then, he looked over to check and make sure his partner was still asleep. He was quiet as he worked, but he still wanted to be careful.

(fever dream)

Rin slept mostly peacefully for a while, but soon began to shift and squirm, face pulling into a frown as hazy images pressed themselves into his mind. Most of it was some strange amalgamation of memory and imagination, his subconscious pulling memories from Lysander and combining them with images of both Arquis and Ari. His breath hitched, and his body curled in on itself, a sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Arquis didn’t notice the change. His work had absorbed him completely. He drew the small wisps of hair that framed Marsiquia’s face and the glimmer in her overjoyed eyes. He then added a bit of depth to the leafy bushes nearest to the steps. Nature was his specialty. While the sketch of his sisters turned out quite nice, he had to admit that the detailing in their surroundings—the subtle cracks in the stairs, the roots of the ivy crawling up the walls, the thin grass—looked even more realistic. He only wished he had his painting kit with him so that he could work in color.

It bothered him that his memory wasn’t perfect. Even scenes he remembered fondly, like this wonderful, sunny day, weren’t perfectly captured in his mind. He couldn’t recall the shoes Quirisa had been wearing or the jewels in Marsiquia’s necklace. His brow furrowed as he thought through the scene over and over again. No luck.

A faint, broken little sound pulled from his mouth, and they curled up even tighter, now in a fetal position as if trying to proteect himself, even in sleep. His breathing was shaky and close to sobs, his body trembling a little bit. They were caught in the grips of their nightmare, unable to get himself free from it. They were deep enough in that it was doubtful they could pull themself out, or even process the fact that it wasn't real.

The noise shook Arquis’s focus. The pencil dropped from his fingers and landed somewhere on the floor. He tossed the sketchbook to the side when he saw the state of his partner. It landed on the ground in a crumpled heap, the page creasing completely in half. He didn’t care. The art was far less important than Rin.

His hand squeezed their shoulder. Firmly yet not unkindly, he gave him a shake, trying to wake them. “Love, my love, you are having a nightmare. You must wake up. It is not real. It is just a nightmare.”

They looked dreadful. He wondered what they were dreaming about, though he wasn’t sure it would make much sense. Fever dreams were often nonsensical.

The shaking was enough to jar Rin awake, and their eyes flew open, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth as his gaze flashed up to Arquis. He was still trembling, blinking quickly as they tried to shake off the last vestiges of their dreams. "Arquis?" their voice was quiet, hesitant. Afraid.

Arquis nodded, then softly murmured, “Yes, my dear. It is just me. There is no one else around. We are at the inn, remember? In the bedroom.”

He cupped their cheek and instantly frowned. The bath hadn’t cooled him down at all. In fact, it seemed as if their fever had gotten slightly worse. Icy worry gripped his heart. It was fine, he told himself. They were fine. Fevers weren’t necessarily bad, unless they got too high. Their body was just fighting off the infection. Once it won, they’d be perfectly alright.

He replaced the frown with a gentle smile. “You were having a terrible nightmare, I believe. But there is no danger.”

He shivered faintly, pressing closer into Arquis. "I…" they swallowed faintly, taking a few deep breaths. He felt hot. And cold. And achy. He didn't like this. "Sorry." they breathed, leaning their forehead against their lover's shoulder. "I had…an awful dream." his voice trembled, arms reaching to hold onto Arquis.

Arquis nodded sympathetically. He returned his embrace, pulling them into his lap where the drawing pad had just been. There were still pencil shavings and tiny, rubbery bits of eraser on his pants. In a single, sweeping motion, he brushed them aside.

“I know, my love. It sounded absolutely horrid.” He was still curious as to what the nightmare had been about, but it likely wasn’t his place to ask. What he could instead do was try and make him feel better. The tea had gone cold. Taking another bath would be odd. He could perhaps get them a cool cloth for his forehead, but he had the feeling that leaving their side was a poor idea. They were in a fragile state.

“What do you need from me right now?” was what he settled on asking.

They were still shaking very slightly, though whether that was from the fever or the after-effects of the dream was anyone's guess. "I-I…I just…I just want to be, uhm, held?" they didn't know what else they could ask for or say. This was enough for them. He took a deep breath, staying pressed close to Arquis and just trying to breathe.

That was an easy enough request. Arquis kissed that spot right between their brows. He let his fingers skate up and down his back, using his nails to add just the slightest bit of pressure. There would be no scratch marks left behind. It wasn’t as if he was actually clawing at them, after all.

His anxiety was growing. Having a fever dream indicated that they were past the harmless point. Whatever Rin had, it wasn’t looking good. He still doubted that it would be lethal, but he had to admit that the possibility of it causing actual damage had skyrocketed. Too much higher and they could seize. Febrile seizures were no joke. If Honey had been correct and there weren’t any health professionals in The Cecilia Rouge, then Arquis might have to try and find a way to the nearest town. If only it wasn’t so cold outside. That would cause some serious issues.

“Would you like to talk about the dream?” he offered.

"I-I…" he took a few more breaths, still shivering a little. "It was just…Lysander, and…and you and Ari, but it wasn't…you were like him and I know you w-wouldn't actually do that, but…but…" but it had been such an awful, awful dream, and it was so hard for his feverish mind to make peace with.

Arquis’s chest tightened. Though he’d been expecting something bad, he hadn’t predicted that it would be about Lysander. Then again, they’d been talking about topics related to Rin’s past for the last few days. It was no wonder that he’d be on their mind.

“You are correct, love. I am not like him. I will not hurt you.” His words were firm yet not harsh. He needed to reinforce their point, but he didn’t want to frighten him. He let them linger in the air for just a moment before continuing, his speech much softer. “That does not, however, mean that your feelings are irrational. Fever dreams can be quite stressful.”

He lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from their brow, then paused, realizing that his fingers were shaking. Ah. He was apparently quite scared as well. Not because of the dream, but because there was something greatly unsettling about seeing his partner’s eyes so glassy and face so flushed. Surely there was something else he could do to help manage the damned illness. He settled on peeling away some of the blankets, leaving them with only the thinnest sheet. He also fetched him some of the water to keep him hydrated. And then he gave them a hug, because he knew that they valued those.

He leaned into Arquis, shivering harder when he took away the blankets. "I know." they whispered, sipping at the water when it was given to them. "'m cold." they finally said after a moment, pressing closer to Arquis and shivering again. He felt cold, but his body was like an oven, radiating heat from the fever, sweat soaking his brow and their cheeks flushing pink, eyes glassy and hazy with fever.

“My apologies, dearest one. I know it seems cruel, but I must insist that these stay off.” He gestured to the discarded blankets, then set his worried gaze back on Rin. “Your temperature has continued to rise. It is more than a mild concern. We must take precautions and attempt to reduce it.”

Seeing them so distressed was making his heart hurt. He felt like the most vile man alive for depriving them of comfort, even though he knew that comfort was dangerous. Their shivering was almost enough to make him cave. His lover was suffering, and there he was, unable to do a thing about it. He felt useless. He felt miserable. But most of all, he felt anxious. It was like waiting for an explosive to ignite. He could feel the heat of the match, and he knew that there was the potential for destruction. When the actual blast would occur, however, was unknown.

He got up from the bed to fetch that wet cloth he’d been thinking of. Soft, whispered praise spilled from his lips as he dabbed it along their damp skin. They had sweat through their shirt, he noticed. He let the cloth glide down over his neck.

They shivered again, curling up into himself in a little ball. He had definitely gotten worse since that morning, his fever rising and discomfort increasing with it. He sniffled faintly, still shivering a bit. "Arquis, I'm cold." he complained at the touch of the cloth, turning away from it and shaking his head a little bit. The fever was enough to blur everything over, reduce them to just a painful, shivering mess on the bed.