Qilby scrunched up his nose.
"Sleeping together?" He almost felt the need to remove his hood, believing some sort of noise obstruction had just occurred. "No, in all, er, solemn truth; I'm fine, Rushu, I don't require any protection." An uneasy grin spread across his dark lips, which seemed to both validate and invalidate his statement. Though Qilby, the immortal, could not help but flinch at the Shushu king's mighty booming laughter.
"I never said you needed my protection!" Called Rushu to the miniscule Eliatrope. "Is it so wrong, though, to want my new friend to be close to me?"
"Wellllll, no! I just..." Qilby glanced at the floor with a faltering twitch in his smile, and then his gaze returned to the bold giant before him. "You might crush me, ah? Isn't that a possibility? That would be a pain indescribable!" The immortal made mad and panicked gestures. "You don't wish to harm your, eh... New friend, do you?"
The blazing king fell into a moment of contemplation. Yes, it was true that Rushu, in his magnificent size, may crush the sleeping Eliatrope if he were to budge even an inch, but...
"That may be true, indeed...! But you have never seen me sleep, little Qilby!" Rushu's chest rose and fell in short, deep bellowing hoots. "I sleep like a great, snoring log!" Seeing the subtle sideways glance Qilby gave forced the king to retract his claim. "Well, I do not snore, I... Not too loudly, anyway," Rushu bashfully scratched at his beard and went on, "The point is that I solemn swear – "He patted his mighty hand against his chest -"That I would not squirm or move at all!" Qilby knew when he could not win, but he was no quitter.
"Rushu," he began, "My dear Rushu! I understand you completely, you see I would..." The traitor already began to back away slowly, leaving the hall of the Shushu king. "I would just like to eliminate any possibilities of such a horrid fate! Ehahaha, you know how it must be, something as small as I must be careful, and—"
"Is it lonely sleeping by yourself, little Qilby?"
Rushu's question froze the elder Eliatrope, sending ice down his spine – an ironic sensation, he noted, inspired by the fiery Shushu king. He spun around, nearly bouncing on his heel, and from the bloodshot look in his eyes, Rushu could tell that something may have snapped.
"'Is it lonely'?" He began, embarking on one of the many legendary spiels of his current life, "Is that what you just asked me? 'Is it lonely'?" Without waiting for confirmation from Rushu, he went on. "Well! Let me tell you the ways. You are perhaps as old as I, yes? How lonely must it be to watch your people come and go? To be born only to die?"
"It does not bother me, it is necessary." The king did not smile, as only general chaos seemed to excite him, not the cycle of life and death. "Life itself comes and goes, little flowe—"
"Is it lonely to wake up each morning, realizing you will outlive all your loved ones? Is it lonely to be immortal?"
"Not at all, immortality is quite plea—"
"Oh! Excuse me," Qilby paused, "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He laughed shakily, even disturbing the mighty Rushu. "You were not forced to relive one life, over and over, were you?"
"Qilbyyy—"
"Come on, old Rushu! Tell me! Is it lonely? Wouldn't it be? Wouldn't it be lonely, to see the same people dying before you, the same wars being fought, an—"
"Qilbyyy!—"
"—ame things happening every rotten same day, IS IT LONELY, TO—"
"Qilbyyy..."
"XPERIENCE THE SAME EVENTS, THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS OF TIMES, WITH NO HOPE OF REST OR REPRIEVE? Of course! It's so clearly different each time, because it's all with different people! Different eras, different inventions! Don't... Don't make me LAUGH! BUT MAYBE YOU KNOW NOT OF THESE THINGS!" The Eliatrope spread his arms wide, cackling. "I have had only a few days of TRUE novelty since the BEGINNING! The GREAT! BEGINNING! Is it lonely, you ask? It is SPECTACULARLY LONELY!"
"QILBY!"
The bellowing shout of Rushu echoed for a good ten seconds. The dizzying sound pushed Qilby to his knees as he clutched both hands around his head.
"... But it is a dull pain that I have become used to."
In the buzzing aftershock of his hysteria, Qilby hardly noticed the gigantic hand of the Shushu king gently, softly closing around him. The elder managed a distressed grunt as he was lifted off the ground and held in front of Rushu's face—too close! Now Qilby could feel the king's heaving breaths like gusts of wind.
"Qilby is... Lonely?" The look in Rushu's eyes was of almost childish disappointment – Qilby wondered if he would burst into tears if he spoke of anymore sorrow. But that fit had barely scratched the surface of his troubles.
"Y... Yes," Qilby sighed in a weary whisper, looking rather exasperated, "Qilby is lonely. Qilby is tired and lonely and... So damn bored of it all." He smiled a bit, indulging Rushu with a tone not unlike talking to a child. "Should I fear the coming changes?" The king's face scrunched up.
"You are not afraid. I see you. You do not tremble when you speak." Rushu pounded his free fist against his chest. "Qilby is a brave little flower. Qilby should be excited, not afraid." He grinned widely at the elder, for a moment mesmerized by his glowing eyes (much like a child is mesmerized by a butterfly) "Qilby will make great changes in his life. And Rushu is right behind him!" The Shushu king gave an almost obscenely silly wink. Qilby had little time to react to his ally's overwhelmingly comforting words; the butterflies in his stomach only multiplied as suddenly with a powerful quake, the king was lying on his back and holding the traitor above him like an infant. "We are in this together, my little flower. Now sleep."
Qilby was unsure what brought the flush of blood to his face – being held in the air as he was or being called such an embarrassing pet name.
"I... Yes. Sleep. I need sleep, that... That's what I need." His claw wriggled free from Rushu's grip, and he wearily grabbed at the king below him, who was just out of his reach. Rushu laughed again, deep and booming, as he lowered the warm, almost delirious Qilby onto his gently heaving chest.
"I won't move at all, I swear," announced the king in a soft whisper.
"Alright, alright," yawned Qilby as he stretched and curled up on his new (admittedly hard but comfortable) pillow, "I'm holding you up to that, you kno—"
But before he could say anything else, the king's hand closed on him again as a loud, rumbling snore echoed throughout the hall.