eiattu_pride | (no subject)

Finally, both boots are off and Rial glances up, frowning at the look on her face.

Reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, "You okay?"

A minute or two of deep breathing and then she says, mouth twisted into a rough approximation of a wry smile, "Might want to have a bucket or a bowl nearby, just in case."

There's a moment, and then Rial gets up, opens the door, and beckons to one of the guards. Makes his request and returns, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'd try sleeping, if I were you."

The attempt at a smile vanishes almost as fast as it'd appeared, and sleeping sounds like a pretty good idea right about now.

She doesn't bother to pull back the covers; just curls up on top of the blankets and closes her eyes where she is.

Rial stays there, for the time being, cross-legged on the side of the bed, one hand resting on her shoulder.

Guarding.

A guard brings a bowl from the kitchen, and it turns out to have been a wise investment. Plourr's in and out of the 'fresher several more times, and by the last one, everything's getting blurry and hot, and she has a vague memory of being lifted up.

* * *

It's the next day before a princess emerges from the bedroom; mid-afternoon, to be specific. Her hair is wild and she's wrapped in a blanket like it's some strange form of ceremonial dress, her bare feet silent on the cold floor. Flushed with fever still, if less deathly pale, she leans against the doorjamb and she watches the three guards talking quietly amongst themselves, and she watches Rial.

He doesn't notice her, at first, running his fingers through his hair with one hand as his other waves a stylus in the air with vaguely threatening movements.

The guards notice, though, and shut up.

Rial hasn't clued in yet.

He seems to be taking his anger out on them. And the walls. And the kitchen, judging by the multiple empty mugs around him.

Plourr's eyes fall on Rial and Rial alone, and maybe she's about to say something or to cross the room, but the loud couple of coughs that escape her ruin any possible chance at stealth.

Yep, he noticed that.

Turns around and frowns, getting up. "Plourr..."

"Morning," she says, and if her voice is a croak, they just won't speak of it.

"Go back to bed."

And that is the voice of one tired, at-the-end-of-his-rope count.

"Good morning--" She catches sight of a chrono, politely covering a yawn with a corner of blanket. "Afternoon t'you, too, Rial."

Rial glances at the chrono as well, frowning.

"It's afternoon already?"

" 'Parently." She settles in more comfortably against the doorway, crossing her arms under the blankets.

"How're you feeling?"

Stretches, cracking his neck, and wanders over to her, dropping a light kiss to her cheek.

Her skin is hot under his lips, and not for the usual reasons. (She is careful not to breathe on him.) "Much better."

"Really?"

He doesn't believe her. Not one bit.

"Back to bed with you, my princess. Not doing yourself any good out here."

She sighs, resting her head against the doorframe. "I've just slept for at least fifteen standard hours. I--" Her creaky voice is interrupted by another fit of coughing. "I'm not going back to bed."

"That's what you think."

Rial takes another step forward.

"I'll pick you up, if I have to."

She doesn't back down, though she is looking up at him warily now. "I'm serious."

"I'm sure."

Another step. Arms reaching out.

Her arms cross more resolutely, though the combination of the mussed hair and the draped blankets detract from the look she's shooting him. "Rial, I mean it." Though she's starting to suspect that he does, too.

"Me," arms reaching out, getting into position to scoop her up and carry her back, "too."

As matter-of-factly as she can manage: "Rial, I don't need to go back to bed; I'm feeling better and the planet is i--"

And then he picks her up.

Hey. He warned her.

"The planet is in perfectly capable hands."

Walking through into her bedchamber, depositing her on her bed, "And you, lucky princess, get to stay in here."