Disclaimer: I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh GX
Title: Royal Decree
Characters: Juudai, Holy Elf
Word Count: 500||Status: One-shot
Genre: Hurt/Comfort||Rated: G
Challenge: Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, A95, write a paragraph with no more than 4 fullstops; Written for GX Flash Bingo, #010, sickness
Summary: Haou could not be sick. Holy Elf insisted that he was. Only one of them can be right.
"I'm not sick." Haou did not get sick. He didn't have time to get sick even if he could get sick. He had a world to rule and conquests to plan and battles to fight. He'd gotten all of his being sick out of the way before he'd come here. Not on purpose, of course, since he hadn't known that he would get into ruling the world, but that was what had to happen.
Holy Elf did not look impressed by his statement. She simply regarded him with her usual calm. "You have a cold."
The armored warlord started to protest once again, but his words ended up cut off by a sudden cough. Holy Elf said nothing this time, but pushed one of the potions she'd brought with her over to him. He eyed it with a bit of speculation, but didn't reach for it.
"It won't cure the cold. I don't think anyone has ever invented something that can cure a cold," the healer spoke matter of factly. "But it will ease the cough and clear your head so that you can continue with your work."
His golden-eyed stare pinned her. "You know what my work is." He hadn't even figured out how she'd made it past his guards and the Death Duelists. If he hadn't felt as low as he did – not that he was sick, of course – he would've had her thrown out already.
"Of course I know." She also didn't seem afraid of him. Haou didn't like that. Everyone should be afraid of him. It was safer for them if they were. And safer for him in the long run. "I am a healer, Haou-sama. I heal everyone, regardless of what else they do."
Haou thought there were things she wasn't saying. Perhaps hope that if he recovered, he would think twice about what he was doing.
He wouldn't. He'd thought about it a dozen times and always came back to the same decision that he could do nothing else. But as long as she wasn't pushing that on him, he would let it slide. For now.
Finally he picked up the cup of potion and tasted it. It's like cherry soda. He hadn't tasted soda of any kind since before ...before everything began to fall apart for him. In moments he'd finished the entire cup. His scratchy throat eased and he could breathe easier already.
"Here." She set four bottles with that same potion on the table. "Take one of these a day. I'll come back in a few days to see how you're doing."
Haou knew he could have her thrown into prison or just keep her to take care of his personal needs. He had the right, as the absolute monarch of this world.
What he did was inform the guards and the Death Duelists that Heather the Holy Elf had every right to come and go as she pleased wheresoever his rule extended.
When she returned, he'd recovered from his cold.
The End
Note: Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the story. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible.
