eiattu_pride | (no subject)

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."

A low shriek of fury escapes her as she's scooped up; the guards shuffle amongst themselves and pretend not to hear.

Once on their bed, it takes her a moment to extricate herself from the tangle that her blankets turned into, and then her head emerges. "What am I supposed to do now that I'm in here?" she demands, untangling her legs. "Twiddle my thumbs? Take up knitting? I am," she snatches a tissue off the bedside table and angrily blows her nose, "feeling better."

"Knitting wouldn't be a bad idea," he retorts.

"And if you get up now, you're giving yourself any time to heal. You'll be worse off again by night. Trust me."

He reaches over, and lightly pokes her shoulder.

"You want anything, or should I go back to work?"

He isn't taking her seriously, and for a second, she seethes.

She smacks his hand away, and then she is calm, her face set stubbornly, when she says, "Rial, I'm not sitting in here and doing nothing. Not when we're in the middle of trying to locate the Priamsta's base of operations, not when there are a million and one administratorial duties to take care of, and certainly not when I am perfectly capable of pulling my own weight."

"Perfectly capable."

There's a skeptical snort.

"I'll believe that when you're perfectly capable of eating - oh, and walking more then a few feet on your own. Go back to sleep, I've got things under control. And you're not helping."

"I got out there fine, didn't I?" she shoots back, stung, ignoring the way that her voice is cutting in and out in protest. "Kriff, I want to do something. I can't just lie here and stare at the ceiling. I'm not some fragile little frilly princess."

"So learn to knit."

He throws his hands up in frustration.

"Sleep. Dream interesting dreams. Get better. Watch a holo. I don't care."

He gets up, running his hands through his hair. "I'm going for a walk."

"Fine," she says sharply, settled back against the wall with her knees drawn up and her arms folded over her chest. "That's kriffing fine."