Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story. Nothing, you hear? I don't even
own myself, and I'm not even in the story! I OWN NOTHING! *clears throat*
And now, back to your regularly scheduled fanfic.
- - -
"Don't leave me, Char," Ella pleaded, her hand grasping her husband's. "Please, please, please don't leave me."
Char had been lying in bed for the past two days, unable or unwilling to dress, stand, or even sit up. For the most part, he and Ella had been alone, interrupted only by servants who brought in food neither of them ate, administered medicine that did no good, and straightened out Char's sheets now and again.
Sighing, Ella looked down at the untouched tray of food on Char's bedside table. "Are you hungry, Char? Or thirsty? Or... something?"
Chuckling as well as he could, Char lightly squeezed Ella's hand. "I know it must be hard for you, love, not being able to do anything for me. Trust me, just your presence is enough. I'll be okay. I'll not leave you now."
/Such optimism,/ Ella thought, though she thought it better not to say it aloud.
Char brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Ella almost smiled, until Char burst into a fit of harsh, horrid-sounding coughing. At best, Char's coughing sounded like a dog barking, or as though he had gotten a stone caught in his throat. Now it was at its worst. Ella winced reflexively, remembering her mother's coughing before she had died.
Coughing...
Was Char going to die?
/Don't be silly,/ she chastised herself automatically. /Just because your mother had a bad cough before she died doesn't mean Char's going to. Char's younger, and he's had enough medicine to keep all of Frell healthy./
She knew it was true, but she couldn't help worrying, all the same. What would happen if Char died? She'd have to rule the kingdom herself, for one thing, and that wasn't that half of it. To lose Char, his eyes, his companionship, his goodness...
"Ella?"
Ella jerked. "Do you need something?"
Char was grinning, not what Ella had expected from such an ill man. "Tell me a story?" he requested plaintively.
Despite her worry, Ella could not resist laughing. If Char's grin had been incongruous with his condition, this was doubly so. "Do you know, the last person to ask me that had just turned seven years old? The daughter of a nobleman who became restless at a banquet. I do believe, King Charmont, that you are longing for the security of childhood."
Char laughed, as he so often did when they spoke, but the laughter soon turned to coughing, bringing Ella's worries to the surface once more. Her mother had coughed when she laughed...
Char's coughing died down, and he managed another smile. "Please?"
Ella sighed. Even after her curse had been broken, Char always seemed to find a way of getting her to do what he wanted. If only he wasn't so wonderful.
"All right, but only this once," she relented, trying to sound annoyed and not entirely succeeding. "What sort of story?"
Char shrugged. "Anything. Just to pass the time."
Ella's story was the same one she had told the nobleman's daughter, about a wizard who accidentally turned a king into a squirrel and had to keep the squirrel-king secret while he tried to change it back into a human. Char laughed many times, and he never coughed, something that brought Ella great relief. At least Char's illness wasn't exactly like her mother's.
"Another?" he asked when she had finished.
"I said it was only this once," Ella replied, knowing full well that he would have her telling stories until the sun came up if he wanted to, but not wanting to feel that she had gone down without a fight.
"I'm tired," said Char, yawning. "Blow out the candle. I'll have another one in the morning," he teased.
"You will not," Ella insisted, but all the same she pulled the covers up to his chin and kissed him softly. A few tears formed in her eyes as they kissed. Suppose this was the last time she got to kiss him?
Concern came into Char's eyes as they broke their kiss. "Are you crying?"
Ella shook her head, although this was futile, as tears were already running down her cheeks. Char lifted his arm with a great deal of effort and brushed a few tears away. "Tell me."
Ella held his hand against her face, and all the worries she had been restraining burst forth, like a flood from behind a stone wall. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid to rule this country alone. I'm afraid that you're going to die. I'm afraid of not being with you."
"Shhh." Char stroked her cheek with his fingertips, his other hand grasping her free hand. "Calm down, Ella. I'll try my hardest not to die, I swear it. Even if I do die, you won't be doomed to solitude forever. You'll have friends, and my memory to keep you company."
He smiled, a faint smile to be sure, but so close to the vital, almost childish Char she knew that she had to smile back. "You better just not die on me before I've had a chance to say goodbye."
"That I won't do." Char closed his eyes, the smile still on his lips. "But I really must sleep now."
Ella bent down and kissed his cheek. "Good night, love. Sweet dreams."
- - -
"Don't leave me, Char," Ella pleaded, her hand grasping her husband's. "Please, please, please don't leave me."
Char had been lying in bed for the past two days, unable or unwilling to dress, stand, or even sit up. For the most part, he and Ella had been alone, interrupted only by servants who brought in food neither of them ate, administered medicine that did no good, and straightened out Char's sheets now and again.
Sighing, Ella looked down at the untouched tray of food on Char's bedside table. "Are you hungry, Char? Or thirsty? Or... something?"
Chuckling as well as he could, Char lightly squeezed Ella's hand. "I know it must be hard for you, love, not being able to do anything for me. Trust me, just your presence is enough. I'll be okay. I'll not leave you now."
/Such optimism,/ Ella thought, though she thought it better not to say it aloud.
Char brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Ella almost smiled, until Char burst into a fit of harsh, horrid-sounding coughing. At best, Char's coughing sounded like a dog barking, or as though he had gotten a stone caught in his throat. Now it was at its worst. Ella winced reflexively, remembering her mother's coughing before she had died.
Coughing...
Was Char going to die?
/Don't be silly,/ she chastised herself automatically. /Just because your mother had a bad cough before she died doesn't mean Char's going to. Char's younger, and he's had enough medicine to keep all of Frell healthy./
She knew it was true, but she couldn't help worrying, all the same. What would happen if Char died? She'd have to rule the kingdom herself, for one thing, and that wasn't that half of it. To lose Char, his eyes, his companionship, his goodness...
"Ella?"
Ella jerked. "Do you need something?"
Char was grinning, not what Ella had expected from such an ill man. "Tell me a story?" he requested plaintively.
Despite her worry, Ella could not resist laughing. If Char's grin had been incongruous with his condition, this was doubly so. "Do you know, the last person to ask me that had just turned seven years old? The daughter of a nobleman who became restless at a banquet. I do believe, King Charmont, that you are longing for the security of childhood."
Char laughed, as he so often did when they spoke, but the laughter soon turned to coughing, bringing Ella's worries to the surface once more. Her mother had coughed when she laughed...
Char's coughing died down, and he managed another smile. "Please?"
Ella sighed. Even after her curse had been broken, Char always seemed to find a way of getting her to do what he wanted. If only he wasn't so wonderful.
"All right, but only this once," she relented, trying to sound annoyed and not entirely succeeding. "What sort of story?"
Char shrugged. "Anything. Just to pass the time."
Ella's story was the same one she had told the nobleman's daughter, about a wizard who accidentally turned a king into a squirrel and had to keep the squirrel-king secret while he tried to change it back into a human. Char laughed many times, and he never coughed, something that brought Ella great relief. At least Char's illness wasn't exactly like her mother's.
"Another?" he asked when she had finished.
"I said it was only this once," Ella replied, knowing full well that he would have her telling stories until the sun came up if he wanted to, but not wanting to feel that she had gone down without a fight.
"I'm tired," said Char, yawning. "Blow out the candle. I'll have another one in the morning," he teased.
"You will not," Ella insisted, but all the same she pulled the covers up to his chin and kissed him softly. A few tears formed in her eyes as they kissed. Suppose this was the last time she got to kiss him?
Concern came into Char's eyes as they broke their kiss. "Are you crying?"
Ella shook her head, although this was futile, as tears were already running down her cheeks. Char lifted his arm with a great deal of effort and brushed a few tears away. "Tell me."
Ella held his hand against her face, and all the worries she had been restraining burst forth, like a flood from behind a stone wall. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid to rule this country alone. I'm afraid that you're going to die. I'm afraid of not being with you."
"Shhh." Char stroked her cheek with his fingertips, his other hand grasping her free hand. "Calm down, Ella. I'll try my hardest not to die, I swear it. Even if I do die, you won't be doomed to solitude forever. You'll have friends, and my memory to keep you company."
He smiled, a faint smile to be sure, but so close to the vital, almost childish Char she knew that she had to smile back. "You better just not die on me before I've had a chance to say goodbye."
"That I won't do." Char closed his eyes, the smile still on his lips. "But I really must sleep now."
Ella bent down and kissed his cheek. "Good night, love. Sweet dreams."