Title: Robcina Week Day 2 - Sick Day

Description: Robin has a problem with overworking himself, even when doing so when it poses a danger to his own health. So what happens when this tendency causes him to become very ill?

Notes: Takes place during the Valm arc of Fire Emblem Awakening

Words: 2032

The first thing Robin became aware of was the burning haze that filled his head. His skin burned, face flushed, so hot that the rest of him felt deathly cold. He shivered uncontrollably, the involuntary movements bringing with him a slow, aching pain that crawled through his arms and legs. He could feel the heavy blankets draped over him, placed there in an attempt to keep the chills away.

He couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. His head was a fitful miasma of thoughts slipping in and out of focus, his fevered mind struggling to latch on to any single thing long enough to make sense of it. Another shiver-fit crashed over him. He could feel the sweat starting to drench him now, paradoxically feeling both boiling and freezing against his skin. He shivered again, lips parting in a soft moan of pain.

A cool rag was placed against his face, gently dabbing away the dripping sweat before being draped across his forehead. He felt his grimacing visage loosen, the cold of the soaking cloth pulling away some of the unbearable burning that suffused his head. He wondered at it, managing to string together enough thoughts long enough to realize another was caring for him. Yet this awareness lingered but mere moments before slipping away once more. His aching bone felt heavy, and with relief from the feverish heat that had awoken him so too did unconsciousness begin to claim him once more. He tried to open his eyes, managing only a blurry glimpse of the worried face of someone holding vigil over him. His mouth, cracked and dry, worked wordlessly. Then he slipped back into a fitful sleep.

. . . . .

For what seemed like an eternity he slipped in and out of partial consciousness, pulled out of sleep with the worsening of aches and fever only to drift back each time they subsided. Several times the wet cloth was replaced by another, and one or twice his head was propped up so that someone could bring a sip of water to his parched lips.

Only the dimming and later brightening of his surroundings marked the passage of time. So it was that a pale morning light stung at his eyes when the fever had lessened so that he could at last force his eyes open.

Even that felt like a great effort, his eyelids weighing as though they had been turned to lead. His head swam as he blinked through blurred vision and looked around. Such were the aches wracking his body that he yet couldn't muster the will to move much, merely staring straight up through unfocused vision. He was in a tent, morning light streaming through the seems to cast patterns on the roof.

How long was I out? Robin wondered. He grimaced, feeling the sluggishness of his thoughts. Come to think of it, he didn't remember returning to his tent. His last memories were of conducting his duties for the day in camp. He'd been feeling increasingly unwell that entire day, but It hadn't been anything too severe. What happened? Why-

"Robin. Good, I see you're finally awake," came a voice to his left.

With an effort, he turned his head, neck aching with the effort. Seated at his side was Lucina, a chair pulled up to his bed. Her hair hung in unkempt tangles, her eyes heavy-lidded with dark rings of shadow beneath. Her hands clasped over atop his left, which lay outside the covered. "I was so worried. After you collapsed, I feared the worst," she told him, relief plain in her voice.

"Collapsed?" Robin croaked. His throat hurt with each syllable. He tried to swallow, which only made things worse.

Hearing the hoarseness in his voice, Lucina reached over, pouring water from a pitcher into a cup that she brought to his lips. Only after she'd helped him take a sip did she respond. "Yes. It was in the middle of the last war meeting. You seemed unwell through the whole thing, but we were all alarmed when you passed out. I rushed you to the healers at once and discovered how ill you were. I have been looking after you ever since. With help, of course. Both Aunt Lissa as well as Libra have been in and out to administer proper healing."

Robin wracked his memories. Yes, he remembers the meeting now. He was giving a talk regarding the army's movements towards Valm's capital. The weather had been hampering their progress, as had the numerous bands of brigands preying on the chaos the war had unleashed. He'd suggested a route to avoid them, even if it would cost them another few days. Then his vision had blurred, forcing himself to steady himself against a table. Then…

…nothing. The memory ended.

"Sorry to worry you," Robin told her. "I'm fine though, really."

Lucina looked unconvinced by his words, a frown pulling at her lips. Then, after another long pregnant moment, she sighed, asking "Robin, why didn't you tell anyone you were not well?"

"I didn't want anyone to worry. Besides, it was nothing I couldn't deal with," he answered, knowing full well the lie in his words. Evidently, it hadn't been, given he'd collapsed mid duties.

Lucina sighed again, for now seemingly reluctantly to argue the point. "Just try to get some rest now, okay? You need to, if you are to fully recover your strength."

Robin nodded, accepting her instructions. "How long was I out for?" he asked, voicing the very question he'd wondered to himself after awakening

"Long enough to worry me," Lucina answers. She wrung her hands nervously, looking away. "How are you feeling?"

"Fever is less bad and the chills are gone. Still, everything aches and my throat is very sore. Hurts a bit to talk," Robin answered, wincing at even saying this much

Lucina dipped her head in affirmation. "If you are feeling up to it, I can make you some tea. Aunt Lissa suggested waiting awhile after you wake before eating anything, I'm afraid," Lucina told him.

"I- Yes, thank you," Robin said, having almost argued for the princess not to bother herself with it. But with the pain of his cracked throat, perhaps tea would do him some good.

Lucina got up from her seat, but instead of exiting the tent to head to the mess as expected, she moved to the far side just out of view. Robin tilted his head, managing to shift his position enough to get a clear view of where Lucina had gone. She was fiddling with a small wood-burning stove that had been brought into the tent. She must have set it up to help keep me warm, Robin realized. It had been particularly the past few days, a common occurrence this far north during the winter. Come to think of it, the cold certainly hadn't done him any favors in fighting off whatever illness he'd come down with.

At last, Lucina managed to ignite the fresh fuel and soon what had before just been embers was now a farm flame. With the stovetop heating and a kettle in place, Lucina turned back to him. "There, tea will only be a few moments," Lucina told him.

Robin nodded in thanks."I appreciate it… though… you still didn't tell me how long I was out," he noted.

There was a noticeable pause, Lucina's expression becoming one of hesitant worry as if fearing a response she knew would occur if she answered. "This… is the third day since your collapse."

A second ticked by. Then another, Robin's fever-addled brain proving sluggish to fully process her words.

Then at once he attempted to bolt upright, grabbing at his covers tangling him in his bed. He needed to get back to work at once. Three days, there was so much he needed––no, had––to do. His job was too important, too critical. "I need- what have I missed, have there been any attacks? What about those brigands lurking nearby? What about Valm's army, have they made any moves? I need to-" he spluttered frantically, mind racing as fresh vigor born of panic seemed momentarily smother the aches and pain of his illness.

Before he could so much as sit upright Lucina gripped his shoulders and, gently but firmly, pressed him back into the bed. "No, you do not. You are in no state to do anything right now," Lucina warned him.

"But I-" Robin tried to argue, only for Lucina to silence the protest with a stern look.

"Others can attend to your duties in your stead," Lucina assured him. She reached up, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. "See, you still have a fever, and pushing yourself will only leave you in worse shape. That's what got you in this mess in the first place. You should have taken some rest when you first began to feel unwell."

"I…" Robin started. He still found it difficult to speak, his thoughts unfocused through the burning heat in his head, and forcing words from his cracked, dry throat was equally problematic. "I couldn't rest. Everyone's counting on me. As tactician, taking a day off isn't something I can do, no matter how unwell I felt."

"And if you collapse in the middle of a battle, or you get yourself bedridden for weeks by over-exerting yourself, what then? How would that be helping anyone?" Lucina countered. "You've scolded me in the past for putting my own well-being behind that of everyone else's. Especially when doing so has been at risk to my own health." She squeezed his hand tightly. "You need to heed your own advice, Robin, you cannot keep putting your own well-being at risk for the sake of others. There is a difference between being selfless and foolish. Knowing where your limits are and when ignoring them will do others more harm than good is how to avoid the latter."

Robin frowned. A part of him wanted to argue, but how could he when her words had cut so true? He hated to admit it, but she was right, and he was ashamed of that.

"And what about you? You've been caring for me all this time, running yourself ragged on little sleep," he asked at length. This wasn't an accusation or a counter to her words, but an honest question. For if he was to concern himself with his own well-being, he needed to know Lucina would do the same.

"This is different," Lucina protested. She shook her head, giving his hand another squeeze. "I am doing this not out of obligation or duty, but because I wanted to be there for you. Is that so unreasonable?"

Robin slipped his other hand from the covers, placing it on top of hers, ignoring the aches that accompanied the movement. "No, it's not. I appreciate your concern, Lucina, I truly do." He smiled gently. "I will relent and get some rest. Just, promise me you'll do the same. I'd hate for you to get sick as well." Then his smile turned into a grin, adding "After all, if I'm bedridden, who'll look after you?"

"Fair enough. I will concede to that much," Lucina answered, returning the smile.

She opened her mouth to say something more, only for a shrill, hissing whistle to sound behind her. The kettle shrieked, steam pouring from its spout as the lid began to shake.

"Oh, tea is done, let me fetch you a cup. I have lemon and honey here. That should help lessen the discomfort of your sore throat, I think."

Moved from the bedside, Lucina busied herself with pouring him the cup of tea, while Robin settled himself back into his cot. Outside the wind had begun to pick up, whistling through the nearby landscape to bring even colder weather. Perhaps then, this wasn't so bad, to rest a bit inside where it was warm. As much as he'd rather be working, Lucina was right, getting himself even sicker or worse would do no one any good.

He was truly blessed then, to have someone there looking out for him. Or else he would have continued to be a fool.