Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Awakening, its characters, story, etc. This story is for enjoyment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Eleven: In Sickness and in Health - Your man no doubt enjoys your intoxicating presence, but he is still likely to have doubts in some areas. For there will come a day when the man you love will experience illness or injury. Be available to take care of and/or assist him during these times. Make it very clear by your actions that not only are you ready for the long haul, but you are committed to him regardless of what trials life throws his way.
Cordelia sat on the ground beside Robin's cot, sighing quietly as she took in her friend's appearance. Except for the dark bruises along her jawline, she was deathly pale. Multiple, thick blankets were tucked in around her body so that only her face was exposed. She knew that beneath them was plethora of other wounds, including a heavily bandaged shoulder, now reset and anchored in place to aid the healing process.
She wasn't actually supposed to be here; as concerned as everyone was, Libra and the other medics insisted that the sick and injured unit needed rest above all else and should not be disturbed. The War Monk had only allowed her entry because she had no intention of waking Robin, or any of the others. She just needed to get something off her chest, but thought it might be better for both of them if she didn't actually hear her.
Cordelia closed her eyes and tried to smile. "Robin..." she began, but paused, wondering how to proceed. She shook her head.
"I guess the first thing I should tell you is that I'm glad you are okay. And not just you; the rumor going around camp is that you did everything in your power to protect your team and bring them home alive. And even though they still have a long way towards recovery, they WILL make it... thanks to you. You kept your promise to me."
She exhaled dejectedly and tugged at her skirt, looking at her lap. "Robin... the real reason I'm here is to... I... um, well... it's about Chrom." She chuckled bitterly. "You should know... he's worried about you. You should have seen how distressed he was when he heard you scream... you know, when the clerics reset your dislocated shoulder. He cannot stand to see you in pain, because he cares about you... because he is in love with you."
Cordelia closed her eyes to try to prevent herself from crying, sighing once again. "He loves you so much. I expect he'll propose to you once you're feeling better." Then she opened her eyes and allowed the tears to come. "It's... it's difficult. I want to be happy for you, for both of you; I do. And maybe deep inside, some part of me is. After all you've done for us, you deserve it... probably more than anyone. And yet..." She returned her gaze to the tactician's face. "It's not fair. I've been in love with him for so long. I think I've always known that it wasn't meant to be, but I hoped... And then you show up and..." Her breath hitched and the tears came harder and faster. "It hurts, more than I thought it would. And I want to blame you; I almost want to hate you, but... But I don't. I truly don't."
She choked and hugged herself, rocking a little on her heels. "Still, I cannot help but compare myself to you... and wonder what it is that I am missing. What is so wrong with me that Chrom... what am I lacking that he would hold it against me, that he should refuse to glance my way for even a moment? Why doesn't he love me?"
She was falling into hysterics, wallowing in self-pity. She loathed herself for it; she found it repulsive in others, and even more so when she recognized it in her own reflection. She breathed deeply and composed herself, wiping her eyes shamefully. She came to a decision then, the only one available to her. "I'm sorry. I truly am. I just... I needed to talk it out, and pretend that someone was listening, for I do not have the courage to confess such things otherwise, especially to you. But I promise... I will, once and for all, rid myself of these foolish fantasies." She smiled again, sadly but sincerely. She reached over and stroked Robin's cold cheek with the back of her knuckles affectionately. "I wish you and Chrom all the happiness in the world. I will swallow my pain, and my love... and I will serve you both faithfully, always."
She didn't feel any better, not really, but she had said her piece, given her speech of surrender. There was nothing left for it but to allow time to apply its slow, healing salve to her wounded heart.
Cordelia stood up and bowed to her future queen. She watched her a moment more, wordlessly praying for a full and speedy revival. Then she headed towards the exit, but stopped when a flash of movement caught her eye.
It was Libra, checking in on his other patients. He had been here the whole time, but had kindly pretended not to notice her outbursts or interrupt her private "conversation" with Robin. She watched as he readjusted Maribelle's blankets; she had kicked them off during fits of restless sleep. He refilled an empty cup of water and set it on the ground next to Panne within reaching distance. He also used a Mend staff on Gaius, bathing the room temporarily in a soft green glow, expediting the healing process.
Finally, he paused beside a squirming Lon'qu, checking his temperature. Of the entire unit, he had suffered the most life threatening injuries and had come closest to death. The War Monk's eyes looked troubled as he fetched a bucket, setting it down nearby. He then poured some ice water in a bowl and knelt beside the Assassin.
Cordelia hadn't given much thought to him, or any of the others. She'd been so wrapped up in her own problems that she had almost completely forgotten about them. The shame of it disgusted her, and she immediately resolved to rectify it.
She stepped lightly over to Libra, who was using a washcloth to cool Lon'qu's fevered head. "How is he?" she whispered once she was close enough, standing on the other side of her partner. She looked him over, observing his disturbed slumber and sweaty hairline with worry.
Libra tried to reassure her with a half smile, but it was hesitant. "He is very strong. Lesser men would have embraced death by now," he answered ambiguously.
"Were his wounds so grievous that they are beyond even the power of an Elixir to heal?" she asked.
The holy man moistened the cloth in the bowl of water. "His injuries were VERY serious, but they are on the mend. It is the poison that most concerns me."
Cordelia knelt down as well, sitting seiza. "Poison?" she inquired. She hadn't heard anything about that before, though it was likely she simply missed it during her preoccupation.
He nodded, again tapping the wet towel to random points on Lon'qu's face. "Yes. Except for Robin and Panne, they were all infected with a cursed substance. Tharja managed to concoct something of an antidote, but it was not fully effective. It merely prevented the poison from spreading any further. She was required to devise a unique hex to contain it in the digestive system. From there, their bodies must fight it and expel it on its own. In doing so, it has slowed their overall restoration and made them very ill."
He glanced over his shoulder at the nearby Sages. "But all is not lost, yet. Both Maribelle and Miriel have already reacted accordingly and are getting better, as is Gaius. As for Lon'qu, he now has a fever. While not usually a good thing, it is a sign that he is combating the toxin. The same thing happened to the others as well. If all goes as planned, he should soon waken..."
"And then what?"
Libra gestured to the nearby bucket. "And then he'll vomit, hopefully ejecting the poison."
The Dark Flier grimaced. "How awful," she mumbled, gagging at the mere thought. Being stomach sick was never fun by any means, but to have to induce it for medical purposes must be doubly horrid.
"True, but necessary," he replied. His countenance sobered once more. "But... as I've said, his wounds were nearly fatal. I fear they will reopen if we are not careful."
Cordelia gazed down at Lon'qu with pity, feeling utterly helpless and wishing there was something she could do to ease his pain.
As though reading her mind, Libra smiled at her. "Cordelia, might I trouble you to stay and lend a hand?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really? But what could I possibly do to help? I am not a cleric."
"No," the monk agreed with a little chuckle. "However, you are a friend. I know that watching another in such a state as this is not pleasant, but I am certain that your presence will comfort him. I did allow Donnel and Ricken to be here when their loved ones needed them. Lon'qu does not have the same luxury. But as his comrade, at least, he may yet draw strength from you."
"I..." Cordelia hesitated. It wasn't that she didn't want to. She did, very much. It was simply that she did not feel ready to face him just yet, after recent events. It was selfish and stupid, she thought, but it did give her pause all the same.
"It's alright. You'd needn't if it makes you uncomfortable. I can summon Olivia instead. She and Lon'qu have some history and are relatively close. I'm sure that she would be happy to oblige..."
"NO! I mean..." She turned red, ashamed and uncertain of her outburst. "I-it's okay. I'll do it," she mumbled.
She could swear that he was smirking when he said, "Very well." He gave her the damp cloth and passed the bowl of cold water. "Then I will inform my wife that her assistance will not be required. If you will excuse me for just a moment..." He stood up and strode gracefully towards the exit.
Cordelia sputtered, nearly dropping the water on her partner. "Wait... your wife? Do you mean Olivia? You two are married?"
His only response was a sheepish grin and a light blush of his own. Then he disappeared to the outside, leaving her dumbstruck.
'That sneaky... was he trying to make me jealous?' she wondered. She wasn't sure what startled her more: learning that the pious priest had a devious side, the fact that he and Olivia were apparently married, or that she had indeed felt a spark of envy at the thought of another woman tending to her stricken friend.
Yes... friend... for that was all that he was. Her heart was too injured and defensive to consider anything else.
"Ng..."
Cordelia gasped, nearly forgetting her purpose. She carefully set the water bowl on the ground beside her and moistened the hand towel. She wrung it out and began lightly dabbing Lon'qu's heated brow, her initial shy flush at doing so fading to compassionate worry.
He was really burning up. After wrapping him snugly to combat hypothermia, some of his blankets had now been removed to cool his increasing temperature. The dark blue robe he'd been dressed in was hanging a bit loose, allowing her to see that most of his chest was wrapped in heavy bandages, some of which needed to be changed. And from the agitated way he was tossing and turning, he was either in pain or having a nightmare.
"Shh... it's okay. I'm here," she told him softly, hoping that he could hear her. She continued to wipe his face, re-wetting the cloth as needed. He unconsciously leaned in to her touch, calming a little.
Libra returned shortly and monitored her efforts for a moment. "I'm going to check on Robin for a bit," he informed her. "Call me over if he shows signs of waking."
Cordelia hummed in acknowledgment. When he walked away, she glanced over her shoulder, verifying that he was indeed preoccupied with the tactician. Seeing that he was, she turned back and bit her lip, debating with herself. She kept the cloth pressed to Lon'qu's far cheek, moving his head so she could see his face better. Her other hand hovered over his forehead briefly. Eventually, she let herself brush back the brown locks that were sticking to his skin, running her hands soothingly through his damp hair a few times.
She was about to pull her hand away, but was startled when it was suddenly held tightly by bandaged fingers. "Lon'qu?" she said, trying not to blush and wondering how he managed to move so fast in his current state. "Lon'qu, can you hear me?"
His breathing was ragged and weak. His fingers squeezed hers, but his deep brown eyes remained clenched shut. When he finally did open them, they were hazy and unfocused.
"Lon'qu..." Remembering her instructions, she twisted around. "Libra, he's coming to." Then she leaned in to meet her friend's cloudy gaze. "It's alright. I'm right here," she repeated.
She froze when he let go of her hand and reached up to touch her face, cupping her cheek instead. "Ke... 'ri..." he moaned.
Cordelia forced herself to get over her shock and embarrassment and lightly gripped the wrist by her neck. "Lon'qu?"
Even now, he didn't seem to comprehend where he was or to whom he was speaking. There was anguish in his face and tears gathered in his eyes, mixing with the fever-induced sweat. "Ke'ri," he said again. "I'm sorry. I'm... I'm so sorry, Ke'ri."
Before she could ask who or what he was talking about, Libra came around to the other side, scrutinizing him. "Lon'qu, do you hear me?" he inquired as well. "Do you know where you are?"
The wounded Assassin followed the voice and shifted his head to face him, looking confused. He did not answer though; he must have moved too quickly and triggered the stomach sickness. His face blanched and he started gagging.
Libra lunged for the bucket. "Here we go. Let's get him up!" he warned. He set the pail in Lon'qu's lap as both of them gently but swiftly braced his upper body and pulled him into a sitting position.
Even in a delusional state, he knew what to do. He hugged the bucket and curled over it. He began retching, his whole body shaking from the exertion.
Libra set one hand on the pail to help hold it, while the other was firmly on his shoulder to make sure he didn't move too much. Cordelia did the same on the other side, keeping one arm steady around his upper arm and shoulder, but she used her free hand to rub his back in a way that she hoped was reassuring. She turned her face a little to try and filter out the foul smell of bile and what she presumed was the poison, resting her head against his upper back.
Lon'qu threw up for the better part of the next hour, stopping at random intervals when his stomach settled and to catch his breath. During each respite, he would lay back down. Libra took the pail and emptied its contents outside somewhere while Cordelia went back to cooling his head, occasionally rubbing his belly in circular motions as well. When the War Monk returned, he would coax his patient into taking a few sips of water to re-hydrate, and then the cycle would repeat again. Eventually, the outbursts grew less frequent and labored, and he appeared to be drifting back to sleep.
"Looks like he's over the worst of it," Libra mumbled. He re-checked his temperature and examined the covered wounds. "But I'm going to have to change his dressings." He smiled at his assistant. "Thank you for your help. I am certain that Lon'qu appreciates it as well."
Cordelia assumed that the thanks doubled as a dismissal, but she didn't move just yet. She simply continued her ministrations, stroking Lon'qu's hair absently while wiping away the last traces of sweat from his pale face. Libra stood and went to gather fresh wrappings, a staff, and some balm for the wounds.
He was breathing much easier now, and he wasn't squirming around so much. She supposed it would be wise to leave and let him rest, but something stopped her. For some reason, it felt like fear anchoring her there. Fear of what, she didn't know. Perhaps it was the notion that if she left now, she might return only to find him gone, succumbing to death in the night. Or that he might think less of her if she left him alone when he needed her, knowing quite well how much pain isolation could inflict.
Then again, maybe it was something else entirely, something she refused to recognize or name.
Before she could make up her mind, a raspy voice murmured, "Cordelia..."
"Hmm?" She almost didn't realize that it was Lon'qu who had spoken, or that his voice was less manic. She inclined closer so that he wouldn't have to strain his throat to talk, noting with relief that his tired eyes seemed clearer than before, and he recognized her. "It's okay, Lon'qu. Everything's going to be alright. Libra will change your bandages and give you something if you're in pain. For now, try to get some rest, okay?"
He gazed at her pleadingly, fighting to stay awake, as though he too was afraid of something. "Stay?" he mumbled, conserving his energy by using fewer words.
"Oh... I..." She bit her lip and blushed, withdrawing her hands from his face nervously. She certainly wanted to, but it might not be the best thing for him, or for her. "You need to rest," she reiterated, shaking her head against her own wishes.
He shifted a bit, so that he could reach out to her. She instinctively took his hand in both of hers without thought. "Please... please stay..." he implored, eyes boring into hers.
Her heart ached to see him like this. He was always so strong, so self assured, save for the issue with women. He did not reveal any vulnerability willingly or easily, and probably would not now if he was in his right state of mind. Nonetheless, pride and even joy stirred within her at the idea that any version of Lon'qu would trust her enough to request her help and presence while he was weak.
Cordelia smiled and squeezed his hand. "As you wish. If you promise to rest and relax, I will stay by your side until you fall asleep. Agreed?"
His chapped lips quirked upward for a fraction of a second, and he nodded slowly.
Feeling emboldened, she resumed running her fingers through his hair, even going so far as to start humming softly.
He stared at her blearily, his expression unreadable for the most part, but he did not resist or pull away. He just blinked slowly, eyes gradually falling shut at her touch. "Cordelia..." he slurred, on the verge of sleep. "Thank you..."
A pleasant warmth settled in her chest, partially making its way up to her cheeks. "You are most welcome, Lon'qu."
Thanks again!
