The Strangers in the Palace (Closed)(Fantasy)

Stricken, Arquis shifted away. They looked worse up close, but he had to admit that he also didn’t look that well from further back. The intensity of their trembling was troubling. He set aside the washcloth and adjusted that singular sheet over them. If they were on the mend, he’d give him more, yet he seemed to be getting worse and worse. Luckily, it still didn’t seem that they had developed any other serious symptoms. They weren’t violently throwing up or breaking out in hives. Their throat sounded sore, but he hadn’t begun to wheeze.

“You say you are cold, but you are burning up,” he finally whispered in response. He sat beside him and placed his hand over their heart. His blue eyes were wide with worry.

“Love. My love. Rin.” Was their heartbeat slightly faint, or was he imagining that? “I know you do not wish to take any medicine, but… but it would help you feel better. I can tell that you are miserable.”

He coughed faintly, shaking his head. He was still curled up in that tight little ball on the bed. "No, don't wanna take anything." they protested, bundling the sheet closer as if it could help warm him. He pressed his face into the pillows, just trying to warm up still. That was one of the worst things about having a fever; how it tricked your body into thinking it was cold, that you needed more heat to make it better.

“I know,” Arquis sighed, “love, I know that. I am not going to force you to take anything, but I really do think you should consider it. There are some medicines that do not make you tired. They are purely meant to relieve symptoms. I advise that we find one to manage your fever.”

He moved so that he was laying down. His dark hair stood out against the pillowcase. A lock of it fell into his face as he tugged them closer and slipped his arms around him. Goodness, he could feel his heat through their clothes. They were burning like a radiator, and their shirt was drenched in sweat. The sensation wasn’t exactly pleasant, but Arquis didn’t dare back away.

“Please?” His voice cracked, and he wasn’t surprised to find that his gaze was growing blurry. “I am really starting to worry, Rin.”

He was still shivering, sniffling faintly and shaking his head a little bit. "Can't." he replied. "I can't, Arquis." the idea of taking any medicine terrified him and he knew maybe that was irrational, but they couldn't help it. They couldn't help the fear that swamped him whenever he thought of it.

Arquis pressed his face into their shoulder in teary-eyed defeat. He wasn’t mad at him. They were acting illogically, but then again, what had happened to them wasn’t logical. This fear of his was based in learned instinct. Knowing the reasoning behind it, however, didn’t solve the problem at hand.

“Then what, love, am I to do if you become gravely ill?” he croaked. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the panic out of his tone. “What if the baths and tea stop working, and you grow sicker still? What if medicine is the only cure? Will you continue to refuse it?”

His mind was heading down a dark path. He imagined Rin in his arms, withering away, their face gaunt and eyes unseeing. Their breath would grow slow and stale. His lips would dry, crack, and bleed. Their skin would turn ashen, their hair greasy. The mental picture made him tremble. He could handle a lot of things. He’d be there for them through sickness and health. But he couldn’t watch him die, if that was what it came to.

That was overly dramatic for the situation. Rin had likely just picked up an infection. They’d probably be better before the week’s end, even without medicine. Yet he couldn’t stop seeing them as weak and skeletal; couldn’t stop watching the life drain from him, stealing their musical voice and gorgeous grin.

Rin shook his head faintly, biting his lip for a moment. "I just…I…" he shuddered. "I…" they didn't know how to respond to the question, and he just shook his head again, pressing closer to Arquis with a faint sound. He was both cold and hot and trembling all over, and he just didn't feel good.

Arquis drew in a shuddering breath. He knew that he was being a bit unfair. They weren’t well, and there he was, peppering him with questions. If they didn’t already have a headache, he imagined he’d helped one develop. That was the last thing he wanted. He just couldn’t help it. The image of them flashed before his eyes again, and he quietly whimpered, shaking his head to rid himself of it.

“I am just so scared.” The first tear fell. Determined not to let another follow it, he squeezed his lids shut. They weren’t supposed to be taking care of him. He regained his composure and gave his partner a squeeze around the midsection.

“You should try and rest once more. Before you do, though, can we make a plan? Just-” The tears threatened to overflow. He forced them down. “Just in case something does go wrong. If you take a turn for the worse. Do I- what would you like me to do, if that happens? Fetch a healer? Write Ari? Both?”

"Sorry." they whispered. "I…uhm…write Ari. He knows who you are, I told him." they cleared his throat faintly, curling closer to Arquis again. "'m sorry, I-I'm just…I…" they didn't even know what he was saying now, just stammering and uncertain and a little bit afraid. He took a few deep breaths, coughing just a little bit at the end.

“Oh, love, I did not mean to frighten you,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss that soft spot under their ear once they’d finished coughing. What an awful partner he was being. “Everything will be alright. I have a tendency to get hysterical. You must forgive me for it, as it makes me think irrationally. You are going to be just fine.”

Though he wouldn’t mention it aloud, he was both startled and pleased that Ari knew about their relationship. He wondered what Rin had told him. All nice things, hopefully. He really wished to make a good first impression. The stranger was clearly a very important figure in his partner’s life, and if things were going to work out between the two of them, then he’d likely have to earn his favor. He only hoped that he wouldn’t have to do so while his lover was in a fragile state. As he’d said, he tended to get overly emotional, and he certainly wouldn’t leave a positive impression if he was an anxious wreck.

Rin let out a faint, slightly shaky little breath. "Yeah. Okay." he managed, clearing his throat again and pressing closer to Arquis. "I…I'm really tired, Arquis." he looked up at Arquis with hazy, glassy, feverish eyes. "But…but I don't…what if I have a dream again?" he was still frightened from that fever dream he had had.

Arquis didn’t want to lie to them. It was very possible that he might have another nightmare, given their fever and stress level. Telling them that, however, would only make them want to stay awake. He could see, hear, and feel how exhausted he felt. They needed sleep. They needed it badly. If he wasn’t going to take any medicine or try any other remedies, then they at least needed to get their energy up.

He hummed and nuzzled against their neck. “Your body is telling you that you need to rest. Listen to it, my love. I will be here when you wake, just as I will be here to comfort you if you have another bad dream.”

That was the truth. He wasn’t going to leave their side, not until he was better. It was like a reversal of the situation back at the Palace. Though nobody had commanded that he stay with Rin, he knew he couldn’t abandon them, not even for a second. The only logical exception was if they needed some space, which he’d give.

He nodded faintly. "I-I…okay." he whispered, leaning his face against Arquis's shoulder and taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes, just breathing and trying to drop off to sleep. He was exhausted, and felt ill, and he just wanted to sleep. It didn't take too long for him to surrender to the grasp of sleep, still pressed close to his lover.

Unlike Rin, Arquis did not fall asleep. It took quite a bit of willpower, but he managed to successfully keep himself awake. He supposed it helped that his nerves were so frayed. How could he rest when his partner was on top of him, their breath slightly labored and scratchy? How could he rest when they’d sounded so shaken? He hadn’t been lying when he’d promised to stay around in case they needed comforting. In fact, he stayed under them, one hand rubbing his hip in a gentle circle. He could feel their body heat again, even through his shirt.

He did for quite some time consider bending to grab Honey’s sketch pad, but in the end he decided against it. He’d had his fill of art for the day. Besides, the drawing was probably ruined, considering that it had a massive crease from his carelessness.

Rin stayed curled close to him, asleep. He didn't move much, just twitched every now and again, or shivered just a little bit, a faint tremble that would shake his body, then abate again. Sweat still shone on his skin, and his lips were faintly parted as he breathed.

(should I skip to later in the day when Rin wakes and is worse?)

(sure!)

Night eventually fell. It took quite some time, and Arquis was admittedly bored for most of it. He’d sat with Rin for about an hour after they’d drifted off. Once it seemed that he wasn’t going to have another nightmare, the nobleman carefully moved out from under them and went to collect the drawing pad. He smoothed out the fold in the page, but it was no use. The drawing of his sisters was too bent to finish. Feeling rather sad, he tore the page from the journal and set it aside on the nightstand. At least it could be a reminder, something to ward of homesickness.

Eventually, he put pencil to paper again, though this time it was to write. Words flowed out of him like water from a fountain. He wrote of Rin and Honey, of Sugar and his aunt. He wrote until his scarred hand throbbed and ached. Only then did he stop, get up, fetch some warm water, and soak his sore fingers. He used that time to get another cloth for his partner’s forehead; they couldn’t protest if they weren’t awake, and he made sure that they were not. Once he was finished with that, he went back to writing, wearing his chosen pencil down to a nub.

He didn’t realize it was actually night until someone came to the door. He’d been expecting Honey or Lovey, but it was one of the others: Divinity. Her lips pursed as she caught a glimpse of Rin. In her hands was sealed bowl of soup. He took it, thanked her, and went to wake his lover.

“My love, how are you feeling? Are you well enough to eat?” he asked gently.

Rin blinked hazily up at Arquis, clearing their throat faintly. "I…" he pushed himself upright, grimacing at the movement. "I guess so." their voice was soft and a bit scratchy. "As long as you eat too." their gaze flicked up to meet Arquis's as they took the bowl of soup. "Please. You haven't eaten much today."

Arquis bit his lip and exhaled. Getting upset would do them no good. He fluffed their pillow and helped prop him up against it. His expression looked pinched. The fact that he could still feel their heat without touching bare skin was distressing.

“You need to quit worrying about me,” he insisted, though he didn’t sound angry. “I am not the one that is ill.”

That wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the truth. He was ill. Not in the feverish, shaky, stomach-churning, head-aching way. His illness was deeper. It made his shirts hang off his frame, as if they were afraid to touch him. It carved angles in his face, dug hollows below his cheekbones. It took and took, stealing the softness from his stomach and leaving sharpened bones behind.

He reached over and tapped the lid of the bowl with a spoon that Divinity had given him. “You do not have to have much, but you must have some.”

"You have to eat too." Rin insisted, frowning just a little bit as they looked up at Arquis. He took the lid off of the bowl, swallowing faintly. "Please, Arquis." he coughed again, shaking his head for a moment in an attempt to clear it. They did take the spoon, eating some of the soup with it.

“I will,” he assured them, his mouth sour from the lie, “Later.”

Rin would be asleep later, he figured, and wouldn’t remember the conversation in the morning. But it wasn’t an issue. Him avoiding eating this time around wasn’t related to his problem. He was just too worried to have an appetite. That was all. It had nothing to do with what he’d eaten that morning, the way it’d made him feel. It was unrelated to the the tightening of his throat and the ache of his stomach. This was different.

He put on a soft, winsome smile and leaned forward to brush the hair from their face. “You did not answer my earlier question. How are you really feeling?”

Rin ate a bit of soup, looking up at Arquis. "I…not great." he replied slowly. He still felt awful, maybe even worse than earlier, but his head was a bit clearer. Likely it had been fogged and clouded because of the dream, but it still felt odd. Still didn't feel right. The soup didn't quite taste right either.

Arquis hummed, swept his hand under their chin, and stroked their jaw with his thumb. They were still very hot, but at the very least he seemed less panicked. That was good. There was a slight clarity in their bright, feverish eyes that had been missing beforehand. He hoped that meant that they were on the mend. Perhaps that meant he wouldn’t have to write Ari or seek help after all.

Even if they were possibly healing—which he wasn’t certain was the truth—that didn’t mean he could abandon his duties. Rin still needed to be treated with care. He smiled fondly.

“Oh, love. What feels badly? Is it your throat?”

He shrugged faintly. "I don't know. Everything." his body just ached and felt so sore, and his throat hurt, and so did his stomach, and he couldn't figure out if he was hot or cold or somewhere in between. They shivered faintly, drawing their arms into themself to try and warm up a little bit. He ate some more of the soup, closing their eyes for a moment.

“Ah. I do not envy you,” Arquis mumbled in response.

While they ate, he stood, collected one of the cloths from earlier, and took it into the bathroom. He re-dampened it and was about to return to the bed when an idea popped into his mind. Syeda, the doctor at the Palace, had given him something for his chest. Something to put on it to soothe his lungs and throat. If his memory was correct, it should still be in one of his bags. He stopped to check. Sure enough, the little tin was wrapped in a shirt at the bottom.

“This might help,” he said, approaching them. “It is not a medicine taken by mouth, just a lotion of sorts. There is still no pressure to use it, of course.”

He set it down next to their leg and gave his knee a gentle pat. Then, he leant in with the cloth. He dabbed away some more sweat.

Their gaze flicked to the lotion, and he nodded faintly. He wasn't sure how much more of the soup he could stand to eat; his stomach hurt, and they knew putting food in it would just make it more likely for him to throw up, and they really didn't want to throw up. That…would not be fun. They ate a bit more soup, then set it aside.

Arquis, not wanting to be a hypocrite, did not ask them to have any more. They were quite ill. It was a miracle that he’d eaten anything at all. They did also look a tiny bit nauseous, and he was worried that he’d be sick. That could easily lead to dehydration.

He made sure the bowl was over an arm’s length away before leaning forward. His touch was gentle as he cupped their cheek. Their skin was so warm. He lightly brushed the cloth over the spot he’d been holding, then set it aside as well. With a sort of reverence, he kissed the corner of his mouth, wishing he could go further but knowing it’d be an awful idea. They were certainly not in the mood, and besides, he still didn’t want to catch his illness. That’d be a disaster.

“Alright, love. Tell me what you need right now.” He drummed a nail on the lid of the tin. “This? Or would you prefer something else?”

He shook his head faintly. "I don't…I don't know." he mumbled, swallowing faintly and frowning. He didn't feel great, but he wasn't sure what to do to make it feel better. What he could do or have that would help with this awful ache in his stomach and in his body.

Arquis frowned. Something in the way they responded reminded him of how Honey had been acting: disoriented and uncertain. He felt a surge of protectiveness that mingled with the ever-present sense of worry. His mouth tasted of metal. He leaned forward and stroked his partner’s hair.

“You really do not feel well,” he murmured sympathetically. His hand instinctively dropped to find one of theirs, knitting their fingers together. He brought the two hands to rest over their stomach.

He shook his head a little bit. "No." he agreed. "I don't." he snuggled close to Arquis again, closing his eyes sleepily. They really didn't feel good, but he didn't know if he could sleep again. But what else could he do? He didn't know. They just felt so ill, and they didn't know how to fix it.