As the morning sun rose gently over the limits of Kirkwall welcoming in a new day, Sebastian Vael arrived back at the Amell residence. He enjoyed taking a walk so early in the morning, when the city was starting to wake up. It was peaceful, he could enjoy the time to reflect on his life and the developments in the Free Marches. It was a chaotic time, and any peace he could manage to find was precious.
As he sneakily entered the manor through the service door, he met Orana, the elven servant of the household, in the kitchen, pouring hot water from the kettle into a mug.
"Is that what I think it is?" Sebastian asked, leaning on the counter.
Orana gasped and dropped the iron kettle. "Oh, no! What a mess I've made!"
The blonde woman dropped to her knees to wipe the boiled water from the floor, as Sebastian laughed softly and helped her.
"Maker! I am sorry, Your Majesty." She apologized profusely, alternating between wiping the floor and sloppily trying to bow in reverence. "Please, don't mind me, I'll have it cleaned quickly."
"Do not concern yourself with that." He dismissed the nerves of the servant. "Your mistress certainly is of need for you."
"Oh, no! The tea is going to turn cold!" The elf bemoaned. "It's elfroot! The vapours should be inhaled!"
The scent of the magical weed rose into Sebastian's nose, as does memories of his own elven nurse taking care of him while being sick in bed as a child.
Just as Orana went to take the tea, Sebastian reached out his hand. "I'll take care of it, Orana."
"Oh, no, Your Majesty!" She shook her head emphatically. "Mistress is too ill, and the medics do not know what is ailing her! You cannot put yourself at risk. What if you catch it?"
"I'll take my chances."
Orana, knowing she was not going to dissuade the prince of his intentions, handed Sebastian the mug, taken with a strong sense of fear of the consequences. "Mistress is in her bedroom."
"Thank you, Orana."
Sebastian quietly made his way upstairs. The manor was quiet, with all inhabitants in deep slumber as he tiptoed through the haunting halls of grey stone. Finally, he reaches the master bedroom, where he found Hawke's body sprawled across the bed.
The heavy duvet cover was on the floor while half of the white fine cotton sheet lay across of her body. On the nightstand was an empty cup and beside the bed, a basket serving as a trash disposal. Her mabari was loyally guarding the foot of her lit, perking up with the sound of his boots against the tapestry, but settling down as it identifies the intruder.
Marian's dark, greasy hair covered half of her face; her mouth opened as she breathed, sounding like a soft snore. Sebastian smiled to himself, wondering how she still managed to look so damn adorable while being under the weather.
He placed the cup on the nightstand as he kicked the trash basket with his foot, mentally reminding himself to clean that up later. He gently touched her face, warmth radiating on his hand.
Her eyes opened a jar as she groaned. "Hey you." Her voice was shot.
"Good morning, Hawke." He greeted with a smile. "Still not feeling well, I take it?"
"I feel fan-fucking-tastic." She chuckled. "I spent half the night unable to move my body without crying because of the chills. I also can't breathe through my nose and my head feels as if someone hit me with a club."
He placed a calloused hand on her forehead. She winced, as his hand was cooler than her body. "Well, you still have a fever so I'll go out to the apothecary and get you some medicine when the sun rises."
She gave him a small smile. "You're the best. Any news from the city? How's the Chantry going?"
"Nothing of great importance to report. The chant last evening was particularly repetitive. I found myself thinking of you the whole time."
"Oh? So you think of me when you hear of people being burned alive in a stake by an oppressive regime?" She said, in humour. "That's so romantic."
He laughed, his hands stroking her hair. "I was worried about you."
"Well, I'm worried about you getting sick so be careful not to get too close to me." She mumbled against his chest.
"I'll be fine."
"You say that now and then the next thing you know there's a tickle in your throat and then your throat hurts and suddenly every part of your body hurts."
He grabbed the cup. "Speaking of a sore throat, Orana made a special elfroot tea to help you. The city elves run the recipe around, I had it whenever I was sick as a lad, and I can guarantee it works like a charm."
She hummed as she weakly reached for the cup. "Oh, she's been so worried, she's roping even Bodahn into a paranoia. If you meet her before I do, please, thank her; and try to ease her concerns if you can."
"Of course, Hawke." He nodded. "Try to breathe in the vapours, will you?"
Marian did as her visitor oriented, and then took a sip of the tea, humming lowly in delight of the taste. "Perfect."
Sebastian stood up. "I'm going to call in the Chantry sisters, for a day leave. If you need anything, you let me know. I'll be around, probably in the sitting room."
"Petrice is not going to like it." She pointed out.
"I'm smarter than Petrice, I can work around her. You and your health are my priority." He reminded her, stroking lovingly her cheek. "Besides, the Maker shall find a way to continue His work without me for a day."
She smiled at him, his touch feeling cool against her skin. "I love you so much."
"I love you, too. Now, I shall go get your medicine and we will get you back to normal."
She smiled weakly as he kissed the top of her head. Just as he reached down to grab the trash, she held out her hand to stop him.
"If you ever want to find me attractive again, don't look or touch that basket!" She told him. "It's not a pretty sight in there."
He furrowed his eyebrows as he picked it up. "I've seen worse. Now, go back to bed."
Marian watched as Sebastian left the room, smiling ear to ear. What she did to deserve him, she may never know.