(Author's note: The prompt is "I might be a teeny tiny bit sick, but I am fine.", requested by TheSchneckenhouse from tumblr. After some though, I decided to go with Artorias and his endless stomach, which wasn't that endless this time ^^)
Artorias sat in front of breakfast and didn't feel like eating.
How strange, he normally could always eat. He had what Ornstein called an endless stomach. He could just eat whatever and how much he wanted and never got sick. At least it had never happened in the past.
However, right in this moment, he looked at his oatmeal and felt downright nauseous at the thought of putting it into his body. Had it finally happened? Had Artorias managed to get sick by eating too much?
Laying his spoon down, Artorias thought back to yesterday. What had he eaten? His usual three bowls of oatmeal at breakfast, then on his morning patrol he would get some steamed eggs at the usual place, on his way back to the palace he would normally have a cinnamon roll from the marketplace, then during lunch they had been served roasted chicken with dumpling and Artorias did have his fair share of the meal, especially of the dumplings, then his afternoon tea where he had eaten a whole box of cookies. During dinner they had been served roasted boar from the hunting groups with mushrooms and before bed Artorias had eaten his usual snack in the form of three apples.
Alright, maybe the whole box of cookies had been too much. Artorias had woken up with a tummy ache, but thought that he could get easily rid of it by visiting the privy, and while he had felt better for a little while, once he had sat down to take in his breakfast, his tummy ache had returned. Together with the nausea that now had settled within him.
It wasn't too bad though. He still would be able to work today, he just shouldn't eat anything to give his stomach some time to settle.
However, of course his odd behaviour got noted by his peers and best friends.
"Artorias… aren't you eating anything this morning?", Ornstein asked, who slowly and methodically ate. Ornstein always would eat like this, as if he wanted to sample every single bite and cherish the taste. It was common that everyone at the table had to wait for Ornstein.
"Oh… I am just not very hungry this morning.", Artorias said, pushing the bowl away from him.
"Artorias and NOT hungry?! Are you sick or what?", Ciaran chimed in, of course hitting the nail on the head. Artorias scowled at her, a rare look, he normally was always smiling, but Ciaran wasn't fazed by it at all.
"Hey, yesterday you ate the whole box of cookies during afternoon tea and didn't bat an eye.", she said, shovelling her own oatmeal into her mouth, "It's strange to see you refuse food. Finally got a tummy ache, huh?"
Ornstein frowned, first at Ciaran for her blunt words (which was completely normal, she never minced her words), then at Artorias.
"Artorias, if you don't feel well, you shouldn't-", he started, and was interrupted by Artorias right away.
"Ornstein, we both know that you still would command your troops with two broken legs, a ripped off arm and your innards spilled on the ground instead of laying down to heal, even if you are literally dying, I am fine."
"As the captain, it is my obligation to take care of my knights.", Ornstein murmured, "And as your friend I am simply worried…"
"I assure you, I am fine.", Artorias said, "I might have a teensy bit of a tummy ache, but it's fine. I can go on patrol today. It isn't like I am writhing in pain."
Artorias saw how Ornstein's gaze went to Ciaran who just shrugged. Then, Ornstein sighed.
"Well alright then, but if your condition worsens, you'll have to go to bed right away. This is an order."
"Understood, Captain.", Artorias said, being sure that he would be completely fine after a few hours passed. He just needed to give his stomach time to settle down.
Breakfast ended with not only Ornstein and Ciaran, but also a few silver knights giving Artorias confused stares when they noticed that he didn't eat anything at all. One or two even came up to him and offered him their remedies for a tummy ache. Artorias thanked them, but declined any help, he was fine, he just had eaten too much.
Ornstein was in charge of training the silver knights this morning, so Artorias would be on his own during morning patrol. He put on his armour, shouldered his sword and equipped his shield and was off.
He soon noticed that just sitting around was a lot easier than walking while having a tummy ache. His stomach stung. He also started to feel queasy again and opted to walk a bit slower today, he wouldn't be able to fight too well if he was too unwell. Hopefully today would be quiet.
As usual, Artorias' patrol took him to the marketplace. It was normally Artorias' favourite place to patrol. All the vendors knew him and he always would get extra food and he loved talking to so many people. Today, however, all the smells, especially of freshly prepared food, made his nausea only worse.
Artorias had to swallow down hard and kept his gaze to the ground, hoisting his cape up to cover his nose and mouth, so that the smells wouldn't faze him too much. It worked, until one of the vendors was talking to him.
"Sir Artorias, perfect timing. I tried out a new bread recipe, but I am unsure of the taste. Would you help me out?", she asked.
Artorias hesitated. He normally would never decline food, but with the state of his stomach today, it probably would be better if he wouldn't act as taste tester. He was about to tell the vendor, but then he saw her big sparkling eyes and her sweet smile and he couldn't help it, he couldn't decline to help anyone who looked at him like this.
"Sure, I will try it.", he said and took the loaf of bread, even though his stomach screamed in protest and his nose recoiled from the smell. Artorias took a deep breath and then bit into the loaf.
He barely registered the taste because for the first time in his life, he felt downright disgusted by having something edible in his mouth. His stomach seemed to revolt at the idea to put more food inside of it and so Artorias chewed on the loaf of bread until it was only a paste and then had to force himself to swallow it.
Once the bread was swallowed, his stomach stung even more. Artorias forced a smile however and said: "It was excellent. Like always. You can easily sell this with your other wares."
It was a white lie, but Artorias trusted this booth. The bread had always been excellent, he doubted this one was any different. It was a bummer that his tortured stomach didn't want to let him savour the food. The vendor widened her smile and said: "Thank you so much, Sir Artorias. I will ask for your opinion again."
Artorias waved and continued his patrol, making sure to leave the marketplace before anyone else could offer him food. Oh, his stomach ache had worsened a lot after trying this single bite of bread. As had his queasiness. He really had only felt a tiny bit unwell earlier, but now he wasn't too sure anymore.
However, he had let both Ciaran and Ornstein believe that he was fine, he couldn't just go back and lie down. Besides, the people in the city counted on him to protect them. Artorias would continue his knightly duties, even with a tummy ache.
Once Artorias had left the marketplace, his nausea got a little bit better, so he continued his patrol, but once noon came around, the smells of food were now prevalent everywhere. He could smell it coming from homes, smell it coming from the taverns and smell it from people who had gotten food that they now carried with them home.
Artorias had to flee into a dark alley, where he sat down, leaning his sword and shield against the wall, one hand on his stomach, the other in front of his mouth while he tried to swallow down the bile that had formed at the back of his throat.
"Only a teensy tiny tummy ache, huh?", Artorias startled at the voice, seemingly coming out nowhere. When he looked up, he could see Ciaran's mask, she herself was hidden under the roof of the house he leaned against.
"I told you I am fine. It's just the smell of food…", Artorias murmured. Ciaran didn't reply and when Artorias looked up the next time, she was gone. He shrugged and got up, he didn't feel like throwing up anymore, so he could continue his patrol.
Only five minutes into it, Ornstein turned up.
"Is knight training already over?", Artorias asked, cocking his head. Normally they would train a little bit into noon and then get food. Even the thought of food now made Artorias queasy, he regretted his train of thoughts.
"We stopped early today. Ciaran told me that you didn't look fine.", Ornstein said, scrutinizing Artorias's face, "Oh, you look really pallid even with that tan of yours. Are you sure you are fine?"
"Yes, I told you so.", Artorias said, snapped almost. How uncharacteristic of him. "Ah, I am sorry, I didn't want to…", he started and then trailed off. Ornstein didn't look hurt or anything, but Artorias could swear that he had a frown under his helmet. Ornstein always frowned. He loved to frown. He did this more than smiling. Artorias was the complete opposite.
"As your captain and friend, I have to insist on accompanying you on your patrol.", Ornstein said, "Just to make sure that you are truly healthy enough to work."
"Alright, Captain.", Artorias said, and then the two of them were off. In a sense, it helped that Ornstein was there. Ornstein wasn't a man of many words, so often Artorias would talk instead and he did it this time again. It helped him distract from his ache and his nausea, though every time he smelled food, he had to interrupt himself and swallow the accumulated saliva in his mouth.
It only worked for a short time however, then he had to stop. The smells from everywhere were too prevalent and he couldn't ignore the ache in his stomach as well as his nausea anymore. He stopped talking and hoped that Ornstein wouldn't ask. He didn't, but he also started a route that led back to the cathedral.
"Ornstein… are we already finished?", Artorias asked, hoping that Ornstein wouldn't force him into bed. Even though the thought sounded tempting. Why was he holding onto his pride? It was because he had told them he was fine. And because it was kind of embarrassing that he and his hole of a stomach managed to actually overeat and get sick from it.
"We are going back because you are clearly not well.", Ornstein said, tapping his fingers against his spear, "Artorias, you could have told us that you were feeling too unwell to work."
"But I was feeling fine. Well, almost fine.", Artorias admitted, "Ornstein, please, I can still work today, don't make me lie down. It is just a teensy stomach ache."
"A stomach ache teensy enough so that you refuse food, stop talking and didn't even notice the cat earlier.", Ornstein said, "We are going back."
Artorias gasped. He had overlooked a cat on his way?! He might have been sicker than he thought… Still…
"It's not that bad.", he kept insisting, "Can we at least patrol in the cathedral then? There isn't too much danger of a fight."
"If you insist.", Ornstein sighed, "I would prefer if you rest, but you are clearly stubborn as a mule today."
"You would be the same, Ornstein…", Artorias murmured and then stopped talking, that had been too many words in the last few minutes. Ornstein didn't prompt him to talk anymore. For once Artorias was glad that Ornstein was so quiet.
They entered the cathedral and Ornstein murmured: "You probably won't eat lunch today."
Artorias shook his head. That wasn't possible. He was too nauseous.
"Then let me pass the kitchen to get a quick snack.", Ornstein said, "I haven't had anything since breakfast."
It would have been more smart if Artorias wouldn't have eaten anything as well, but alas, the bread from before still seemed to sit like a rock in his ailing stomach. Artorias nodded and followed Ornstein. He could feel the glances of Ornstein on him. He knew that the moment he showed how ill he actually felt, Ornstein would send him to bed right away.
Artorias asked himself again why he didn't rest. It probably was his rivalry with Ornstein. As much as they were close friends, they also had been rivals since they both had been assigned to be Gwyn's most trusted knights. Most of the time their duels would be of the fighting kind, but they would have all kinds of different duels. An arm wrestling match (which Artorias won), an eating contest (which Artorias one), a painting contest (which Ornstein won), a cooking contest (which Artorias won by a mile), multiple races (which normally Ornstein won). Artorias felt that if he would lie down thanks to a little stomach ache while Ornstein had worked in far worse condition would be like admitting that he was weaker than him and give Ornstein another win.
Instead Artorias followed Ornstein, not saying anything, trying to not rub his stomach (which he wouldn't have felt much anyway through his armour, but the motion still helped). Ornstein led them straight to the kitchen. When he went inside to get his snack, Artorias had to hold his breath. The smell was downright revolting. He vowed right here and then to never eat that much at once ever again, because food never should feel like something that he wanted as far away from him as possible.
Artorias wasn't able to hold his breath forever and once he had to breathe in, the smell hit his stomach and it contracted from it. He couldn't fight the nausea back anymore. One hand clasped over his mouth while the saliva collected inside of it, indicating that he would have to throw up in the next few minutes. Or seconds, Artorias could already taste the bile.
He knew that he wasn't able to run towards the privy or back outside anymore, so he frantically searched for a place where he wouldn't make a mess on the floor. One of the many vases that stood around in Anor Londo came into view and Artorias decided that this was his best bet.
He ran towards it, removed his hood with his right hand and then bent over the vase to retch the bread he had eaten earlier and what felt like half of the stuff he had eaten yesterday into the vase.
Of course Ornstein had chosen this exact time to come out of the kitchen, staring at the puking Artorias, then tapping his foot.
"Only a teensy tiny stomach ache, huh?", he said, "You, Sir Artorias, are going to bed now."
Artorias, heavily breathing, looked up from the vase and murmured: "I think I underestimated just how much a stomach can hurt…" He really couldn't convince Ornstein anymore to let him continue work and he also didn't want anymore. He felt so bad, his stomach hurt so much and his nausea was only slightly gone.
He turned around to face Ornstein. "I am sorry, Captain, I should have listened to your orders."
"Well… you are right about me not taking a break when I should…", Ornstein said, "I have been a bad role model, so I can't be too mad at you. Still, let's get you into bed. I told Ciaran to get some medicine from Gwyndolin, so we can meet up with her and make sure that you feel better soon."
"Thank you…", Artorias said, "Never again will I eat that much." He planned to follow Ornstein, then turned around to look at the vase, "Uh, shouldn't we clean that up…?"
"The vase? Oh, don't worry, I will get someone that takes care of it. Besides, these things have seen worse things than someone vomiting into them."
"Worse things?", Artorias raised a brow.
"N-none of your business.", Ornstein said a little bit too fast, "Let's get you into bed finally."
"Alright, Captain.", Artorias said, following Ornstein to his bedroom where he finally could lay down and rest. Next time he would feel sick, he wouldn't make it into a contest. Probably.
(Author's note: Next one tomorrow and it is Dark Souls! Then I finally get a break from posting daily!)