8888Dearie8888- Yay! The plight is over!...FOR NOW!
VioletDawn00- T.T I feel so bad for her
Mewtwo3642- T.T Me too
Imaginefun- XD I'm just good at invoking emotion from you, huh?
GigiandMad- Lol, actually Skullcap is an plant. It is used in medical herbalism to relieve headaches
Alrighty, onto the story! I'm personally kind of proud of this chapter ^^ Hope you all like it, too!
Dawn's first rays of light touched Death's face. He grimaced slightly, the light burning his eyes. He shut them, breathing deeply. He was suddenly aware of the sweltering body pressed against his, a gentle weight on his chest. Something soft tickled his skin. He sighed, long strands of hair fluttering against his lips. The scent of sickness was pungent, too sweet. It made him open his eyes again.
"Ophelia?" He whispered, his voice hoarse.
She nestled closer to him, burying her face in the smooth flesh of his chest. He reached over and ran a hand through her damp locks, causing her to stir more. An eye peeked at him.
"I must get up, Ophelia. How do you feel?" He inquired softly, frowning when he felt her burning forehead.
"H-horrible..." She croaked.
Death carefully sat up and she moved her head from his chest to the pillow. He swung himself out of bed, the air suddenly chilly after having her leaning against him all night. She shivered and he tucked her in, smoothing her hair once more.
"I'll go to the Apothecary and get medicine for you."
"No, p-please don't leave!" She pled, abruptly looking panicked. "I-if I'm alone, the monster will get me!"
His heart hurt. "You might die if I don't get you medicine. How about if I have someone watch you while I'm gone?"
She seemed reluctant, eyes fearful, but she finally consented. "C-can it be Nadine?"
"Of course." He smiled reassuringly at her before turning around.
He grabbed his robe, throwing it on. The fluid-like material was soothing, familiar as he went to the library to retrieve his mask. It was where he had placed it, on the table beside his armchair. He slipped it over his face and went to the large full body mirror in the room. He exhaled, fogging the surface of the mirror.
"'42-42-564...'" He mumbled.
The mirror trembled and Nadine appeared in its reflection. "Good morning, Nadine. I hope you slept well?" He didn't bother disguising his voice.
She nodded. He continued, "Ophelia has fallen ill and I must get her medicine. She doesn't want to be alone and I would like for you to come to Gallows Manor and protect her while I am out."
Another affirmative nod. "Excellent. Please come as soon as possible."
Nadine gave a salute and the mirror trembled again. Death's reflection returned. He went back to his bedroom, carefully peering in. Ophelia was sleeping once more, her slim figure rising and falling steadily with each little breath. He walked silently over to the nightstand to open one of the drawers. He pulled a coin purse out and counted how much gold he had, pleased to see he had more than enough to purchase the medicine she would need.
He didn't know much about illness, only that, if left untreated, could be fatal to humans. He himself had never suffered from sickness, all Shinigami possessed highly potent immune systems and bodies that filtered any diseases and poisons. True, the only symptom of disease Death could confidently recognize was a fever. He almost felt ashamed of his imcompetence. How was he supposed to protect Ophelia when he didn't even know what ailed her?
Ophelia gave a little whimper, a tear escaping from her closed eyelid. He tenderly wiped it away, studying the pearl. He hated to see her cry; it was one of the sights he couldn't bear. He rubbed the tear against his fingers.
A gentle knock came from the doorway. He looked up and saw Nadine standing there, her head bowed in respect.
"Come in." He whispered as he stood up, looking at Ophelia nervously when she tossed restlessly.
Nadine obeyed, taking his place at the chair. "Have you taken care of the funeral arrangements?"
She gave a grunt. Death nodded. "I'll return as soon as possible."
He whisked out of his room and house. The town was alive, still unaware of the loss of life last night. The children ran past, shrieking happily as they headed to the Academy. They greeted him buoyantly, alarmed when he didn't return their enthusiasm in his own salutation. He came to the building where the Apothecary was and opened the door, ducking under the small doorway.
The Apothecary, a stooped over old man, was humming mindlessly, seemingly alphabetizing his supplies. Death chose to watch him, amused when the old man dropped a bowl and uttered a withered curse. He bent over and picked it up, straightening up with a ruddy face. Then he noticed Death standing in the doorway, blocking out the morning light with his frame. He startled, placing a hand over his heart.
"L-Lord Death! Please don't startle me like that; my old heart can't take surprises, you know!" The old man chided, smiling nonetheless.
Death bowed his head with sheepish extenuation. "Forgive me, Apothecary, I did not mean to frighten you."
"Think nothing of it, my lord. Is there something you need?"
"Yes, last night Ophelia and her sister were attacked by an evil human. Her sister was killed and Ophelia has fallen ill. She shiver as though she is cold, but her skin is burning to the touch. She is lethargic and weak." He summarized.
The Apothecary turned around to face his supplies, moving through shelves, grabbing various items. "I see...has she been sick?"
"Yes and earlier she complained of her body aching." Death replied.
"Let me see...elderberry should do the trick...Yes, elderberry should definitely help, but it will not cure her."
Death frowned. "What do you mean?"
The Apothecary grabbed a couple branches of the elderberry. "She is suffering from grief. The only thing that can heal that is closure. Ophelia is fortunate; she is very accepting of the nature of death, so accepting her sister's death shouldn't take long. If I had to estimate, I'd say a week, two at the most. In the meantime, here." He held out the branches.
Death took them, eyeing the dark purple berries. They were small and he doubted their usefulness.
"She must eat five every six hours for the next few days. If things get worse, please return."
"Here." Death handed him several gold coins.
The Apothecary took them gratefully and bowed as low as he could. "Thank you for your business, Lord Death. I hope Ophelia feels better soon."
"As do I. Thank you for your service." Death returned the bow with a nod of his head and left the building.
Grief? Was it possible? It certainly was a concept foreign to him. He had never experienced it. He hadn't been there when his parents died, only knowing of Shi's death when the scythe appeared before him. He didn't even know when his mother had died. Ophelia's reaction was perplexing; he had never seen a human actually get physically ill from grief. After witnessing it wreaking havoc on her body, Death was terrified of it. Grief was like a poison, he realized, a poison he hoped wouldn't be lethal to Ophelia.
The fact grief was something unfamiliar to him scared him. He wished Eibon was there to explain to him in that calm, blase way he had about him. It was a trait of his old friend's he was envious of; the wizard could look at any situation and come up with the best decision, regardless of his own feelings. Death was emotional, impulsive, two things he still needed to work on.
Nadine was candidly sitting in the chair beside the bed still, looking as though she hadn't moved since she had gotten there. Ophelia was still sleeping, a damp cloth on her forehead. His partner looked up sharply when she heard him enter and stood up, bowing to him. She looked at the elderberries he was clutching like they were a lifeline.
"He said grief is what ails her. The only thing that can cure that is closure, but elderberry should help with her fever and other afflictions." He answered her unspoken question softly.
She blinked owlishly at him and jerked her head in the direction of the Academy. "Yes, you are dismissed."
She bowed once more and walked quietly out of the room, turning around once to glance worriedly at Ophelia. When he was certain she was gone, Death removed his mask and set the berries on his desk. He plucked five off and went to Ophelia's side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, carefully lifting her up. She gave a weak whine of protest, her sickly eyes opening.
"I need you to eat these; they'll make you feel better." He murmured, holding up one of the berries.
She parted her dry lips and he popped one in her mouth. She chewed slowly, her brow wrinkling with distaste. "I know they must taste awful, but I'll give you some tea with honey afterwards, alright?"
Seeming to perk up at the idea of tea, Ophelia willingly ate the remaining berries without complaint. He helped her lie back down again.
"I'll get the tea for you right away." He whisked out of the room and to the kitchen.
A boiling pot of water was already waiting for him and he sent a silent thanks to Nadine. He grabbed the last of his chamomile, stirring it in the mug of hot water. He went to the shelf where he kept his herbs and spices and grabbed the vial of honey. He spooned out some and stirred that into the tea as well.
It was almost amusing to him, how accommodating he was to do such a mundane thing for her. Had it been anyone else, he doubted he would show such kindness.
Death returned to the room with the steaming mug and set it on the night table. "Drink it slowly and carefully; it's very hot."
Ophelia sat up anemically, grabbing the mug. She held it in her hands for a few moments, eyes closed. "T-the warmth...it feels nice...L-like Bea..."
Her bottom lip trembled and she bit it. He sat beside her and rubbed her back soothingly. "I wish I could say I know how you feel, but I don't. I wasn't close to anyone in my family, but I wish I had been. I'm almost curious to experience the pain you are feeling because it would mean that person was precious to me."
She took a sip and winced when the scalding liquid burned her lips. She set the mug back down and pressed her lips against her necklace. "Y-you don't want to feel this...it hurts so much. It feels like a part of me has been ripped out."
He regarded the analogy quietly. "I'd take that pain as a good thing. You loved your sister very much. She died knowing that. She died protecting her big sister and I bet that knowledge made her happy."
Ophelia clasped her hands tightly in her lap, the tendons in her hands taut. Her eyes watered. "I'm her older sister; I should have been the one to protect her! I'll never forgive myself for this!"
Her body shook as a sob forced itself out of her chest. Death moved his hand up to her shoulder, gripping it firmly. "Ophelia, you must accept this. If you don't, you are giving yourself to madness. Life is filled with death. You understand that, I know you do, don't let the death of someone important to you cloud who you are."
She whimpered and looked up at him. She looked so tired and world-worn. He let himself frown with concern. Then, she did something that surprised him.
She smiled. Albeit the smile was weak and tiny, it was genuine.
"You're right," she said, "I'll just have her death make me stronger. So that I can protect the person precious to me."