Almalexia. (arithmeticks) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-12-08 20:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, almalexia lliryn, lionel baines |
We'll cast some light and you'll be alright.
Who: Almalexia Lliryn & Lionel Banes.
What: Recovery and relief.
Where: Lex's quarters.
When: Backdated to Friday.
Rating: G.
Status: Complete!
The noise drifting into Lionel’s small room had changed over the past few days. A backdrop of harsh coughs, low moaning, and grave whispers had been replaced by one of laughter, tears of joy, and grateful prayers to Faram. He had only joined the ranks an hour ago; Miles had come and gone with fresh clothes, looking visibly relieved to see Lionel back among the healthy and whole. I feel better than I have in weeks, he’d told his brother, stretching his limbs like a cat. So once a mage had given him the go ahead to leave, he had scurried off to Almalexia’s room. One hand nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he knocked, twice. There was a good chance she wasn’t there—there was still so much work to be done, the church mages were flitting around like sparrows. “Lex?” It was just his luck that the mage in question had been caught between shifts. They all required rest at some point or another it had been said, and Lex herself had been sent on her way earlier to do just that. She had protested, of course, and politely pointed out that her skills were obviously still needed in a number of important capacities--fortunately, none had listened to her prattle. Off she went, exhausted and agitated, to try and catch at least a small nap in her quarters. She had eventually dozed off at her desk, still dressed in her mage’s robes, and it was like this that she awoke from the knocking. Barely having heard her name called, Lex began to assume it was merely one of the other mages sending for her already, and she made her way gingerly toward to door. Once opened, she could only manage to gape. “Lionel?” Like any good Pharist, Lionel was no stranger to guilt and shame. The sight of a fatigued Lex standing in the doorway was enough to stir up his remorse about falling prey to the illness, chipping at his relief over being healed. He should’ve been around to help her—her and Amos both. “Hi,” he said, softly. Barely a beat passed before he pulled her into his arms, apologies spilling out before he could second guess himself. “Sorry for making you worry,” he murmured into her hair. “And I’m sorry for not being around to help.” Lionel stepped back, hands lingering on her shoulders, his expression painfully earnest. “And if you were sleeping, then there’s another thing I need to apologize for. You look exhausted.” Lex allowed herself to be pulled into the hug with nary a protest. She sighed against his chest and weakly returned the gesture. Exhaustion gave way to relief at the tangible realization that Lionel was here before her, healed at last, and no longer lingering at death’s door. No greater proof could be given to this (what seemed a nearly miraculous) fact--and it was for this that Lex offered a silent prayer to Faram in thanks. “It is of no consequence,” she said, looking up at him. There was much she could think to ask, such as how long he had been up and wandering about, if he felt any lingering symptoms, if she could do anything further to help him. Lex gave them all a thorough consideration, but in her current state, she merely shrugged her shoulders and continued to cling weakly to his shirt (in case she was dreaming all of this, and the apparition would suddenly dissipate). “You are well, truly?” Lionel nodded. “Fit as a fiddle, see?” He curled one of his hands into a fist and hit himself twice on the chest, beaming proudly. “I must admit, I am grateful Faram saw fit to spare me from this plague.” But he hadn’t spared everyone, had he? No, Lionel thought grimly. He would have to pray for their souls at this Sunday’s Mass. His eyes narrowed as he looked her over again, his mouth pressing into a straight line. “I hope you haven’t been working yourself to death, Almalexia,” he said solemnly, a near-perfect impression of the House of Faram’s Sister Bernadette. All that was missing was the crossed arms, but Lionel didn’t want to give up his hold on Lex’s shoulders. “You won’t be much help down there if you’re dead on your feet.” Lex tried for her best defiant expression, which fell far short of the usual steely gaze and ended up more of a tired squint. “As I have said to the others many times,” she argued, “I am quite capable of aiding others in my current state. It was against my wishes that they sent me back, of course.” One might suppose that, if able, she would have found some way to sneak back and do what she pleased. This seemed not to be the case, fortunately enough, as someone did catch wind of her insubordinate ways and had the guards posted keeping an eye out for small, bleary-eyed mages. At least she felt herself become slightly reinvigorated, in spirit at least, from supportive weight of Lionel’s hands on her shoulders. Affection, however small, seemed to alleviate some of her own private burdens. “What will you do now?” She searched his face with a hint of lingering concern (nothing unusual there, at least, but with her guard lowered by exhaustion it was easier to place). Lionel responded by steering the petite mage into her room, his expression mirroring hers. “First, I’m going to make sure you get the rest you obviously need.” She willingly let herself be guided back into her quarters, though Lionel knew her silent acquiescence was due to exhaustion and nothing more. One look at her untouched bed (with books stacked high, even) confirmed his suspicions. Frowning, he maneuvered past Lex and began relocating the books to any clear surface within reach—her desk, the floor, the window sill. “Once you’re off to bed, I’ll see if Father Luscini has time to speak with me. And then I will do what I can to help out here. So, the sooner you’re asleep…” The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile as he trailed off. “Very well,” Lex agreed with a roll of her eyes, obviously too exhausted to put up a proper rebuttal. While she didn’t entirely agree that this was a necessary course of action, her current desire to war with Lionel over such a small detail was little to none. He had the upper hand at the moment, she supposed, and the mage began to shift out of her now wrinkled robes to the simple, drab clothing underneath. “I expect I shall join you in a short while, however,” she added, waiting for him to finish with his task (and making a mental note to reorganize her books later). Lex crossed her arms and attempted to mask her petulant expression--again, it proved far more difficult in her current state. She contemplated the effort of cautioning him not to overexert himself so soon after recovery. “Of course,” he said mildly, biting back the urge to tell her to take a long while. He took another long look at her—for Faram’s sake, how long had she been up?—before he leaned forward and pressed a swift kiss to her forehead. “Get some rest, Almalexia. Everything will still be in one piece when you wake up, including me.” |