A feverish heat spread across the lords' body. Sluggishly he lost his balance from his legs, clutching his frail hands onto the balcony's metal bars.
"Ughh" – the softness in his voice was nearly in audible. His panting was near silent, he gasped for air as tiredness and pain engulfed his frail being.
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Eliwood had become sickly over the past few months, his health only degrading by now. Every day was unpredictable how he fared. Some blessed days his sickness wouldn't tire him so harshly or the pain he felt from head to toe wouldn't feel like his inner body was being squeezed and burned from within.
He had sent his trusty guards, Marcus and Lowen, off with his son and wife, Roy and Ninian, to Ostia. Eliwood had deceived them with a lie to send them off to Ostia. He had spoken to Roy that he wanted him to not only visit Ostia, but to have Marquess Hector show him the neighboring kingdoms and villages to build a connection with the vast continent of Elibe. Eliwood had sent a letter to Hector, informing him of his son and wife's soon arrival. He urged his dear wife to tag along with Roy as he had work to do, being Marquess of Pherae it was a given. However, he needn't his wife to know he was becoming ill nor his beloved son.
His illness had barely begun to spark up in those days, he did not wish for his family or friends to worry for his health, instead he preferred to send them off on a "trip", hoping he'd recover by the time their yearlong visit was over, and make out nothing had ever happened.
Lance was his caretaker for now. This was not his position of course, but the young soldier was very fond of Eliwood. The lord took part in the grand battle of Nergal after all. His story hit home and all across Elibe, possibly the news even traveled to further too far away kingdoms.
Lance was a young child when he heard about the events of the three amazing lords, Eliwood, Hector and Lyndis. The man that ruled over Pherae, one of the many greatest heroes that took part in bringing down Nergal sparkled in the young boy. Eliwood was and still is a man worthy of his respect. Even if now the lord's physical appearance did not reflect those stories now. The man was thin and malnourished from the months of the illness taking its toll on him. Even with the thick layers of clothing he wore to hide his appearance, it did not cover up his visible features such as his face, neck and hands.
Lance made it his duty to check in on him every hour, making sure he had eaten something that day, bathed and everything in between. He wasn't going to let this illness claim his life while his family was away and still hadn't received word what was going on. Eliwood was in the wrong to have kept such things away from family, but his nature had not changed since his younger days. He would not let other worry for him. He'd rather carry around his own weight than share it with others. Despite Eliwood keeping this a secret from friends outside of the castle, Lance couldn't accept Eliwood's wishes to keep quiet.
Lance stood behind his bedroom doors. He let out a small sigh in boredom, he was to be guarding the hallways of the castle, but Pherae was fairly peaceful in this time. Time was slow and veteran soldiers enjoyed this time of peace and quiet.
The green haired soldier's eyes dart to the side of him, listening in carefully to a small noise he had heard.
"…Lord Eliwood?" – he questioned
Silence.
"Eliwood" – he announced, pressing his forehead onto the wooden door.
Still, silence.
The young man lifted his hand up to knocked on the door. Slowly he opened the door, peering into the large bedroom. There, he saw Eliwood's silhouette kneeling on the ground behind the porches curtain window glassed doors. Lance felt his heart drop in fear.
"Lord Eliwood!" – he yelled, running up to the porch. Pushing aside the doors, he knelt down beside him, grabbing hold of his arm and placing a firm hand on his back.
Eliwood grabbed hold of Lance's hand, using whatever strength remained in him to squeeze the boys hand. His eyes gleamed with falling tears. With a lowly grunt the man fell onto Lance's lap, passing out cold.
The following morning
Eliwood cracked open his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. He heard rowdy chatter downstairs. A mixture of laughter and casual talking. He let his head lazily fall to the left of him where a small table had his daily medications, a lamp and of course a small meal ready for him to eat.
His room was always kept darken so it was hard to tell if he woke during the morning, afternoon or evening.
"Lance…" – he called groaning after calling him. He sunk the weight of his head further down on his pillow. His body felt heavy and hot. He sat up, taking off his thick blanket and seeing from where he was laying dark colored from his sweat. He felt uncomfortable drenched in sweat but also craved more heat.
Lance made it to his room a few minutes after he had called him. He came with another plate of food, most likely stew of some sort.
"Ah- Eliwood you're up." – Lance sat on a chair near his bed and handed him the bowl of soup.
There were over 3 full bowls of the same soup on his table, all chilled by now and some harden stale bread on the side. Smelling the aroma of food alone for Eliwood made him want to gag. He wasn't hungry nor has he felt hungry for weeks now. But he knew he had to eat whether he wanted to or not if he wanted to live. His food was tasteless to him and unappealing. Eliwood simply stared down at the bowl of soup in his hand. He twirled and picked at the pieces of shredded beef in it. He was disinterested.
Lance frowned that Eliwood's appetite was nonexistent. It was almost trying to feed a child that didn't like their food. If he couldn't get him to eat when he woke he would continue to try. But even then, he could see Eliwood would try to eat what he could. It would be all in vain if he ended up throwing up his food after a half an hour.
The green haired young man stared down at his hands, fiddling with them as if he was nervous or filled with anxiety. Eliwood let out a sigh, placing down his bowl of soup on the table. He smiled at the young man in front of him.
"Good day Lance. Is…something on your mind?" – He asked, taking note of his behavior.
"Eliwood...there's something I need to address to you, although, you may not be pleased…" – He said picking up his eyes to look at Eliwood.
Eliwood cocked his head slightly in bewilderedness "Hm?"
"Lord Eliwood, I had to inform your son and wife of your state. This simply won't do. They have the right to know." – Lance's face was firm when speaking to Eliwood.
Eliwood closed his eyes and rubbed the side of his face letting his hand slide down to the side of his cheek and sighed. "Very well…It was…only a matter of time. I suppose I won't recover. It's been…how long has it been Lance?"
"About six months my lord…"
"Mm."
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Weeks had passed and Eliwood still showed no signs of recovery. Ninian spent day and night caring for him. It was a tiresome job but she did it with utmost pleasure. Roy had taken over his father's place as marquees of Pherae. He had no idea what he was doing, he was still too young to fully understand the complexity of it all. Hector had promised his best friend he would show his son the ropes of being marquess. Though it would take time for Roy to learn. His father still urged his son to come talk to him about any problems or questions he faced. He wanted his son to know he's still present and still his father. Eliwood would do anything to help his son, it pained him to see his son mirroring his own life. Taking up the crown at such a young age. He only wished and prayed to the gods he wouldn't have to die so soon.