Who: Aegnor and Andreth (maybe Elrond) What: Freaking out because Andreth is sick. Where: Vinyamar When: After Fingolfin summons him home. Warnings | Status: TBD | in progress
She didn't know when he'd come back, or even really remember asking for him to. The morning had been a blur of events--or rather a lack thereof-- and the fever had forced her to remain abed in a shivering mess of weakness. She'd vommitted the remaining contents in her stomach hours before, but kept retching out dry heaves since then. She lay now, prone, in her bed shivering from her sickness but burning all the while with fever. It was a weird contradiction to be so hot and yet desire still another blanket. It made for a miserable evening and worse early morning, only made slightly better by the arrival of her love.
The King had ordered him home.
Andreth didn't want Aegnor to see her this way, but she couldn't deny that she wanted to see him. She opened her heavy eyes to look at him, and squeezed his hand in her own. He was elf-kind and therefore not prone to the disease and illnesses of Man, so Andreth had no worry that he would succumb to her own illness and was glad for it. It meant he could be close. If this was to be her last few hours or days then she wanted him near, though she certainly mourned she could not give him more. She had not considered herself so weak, and did not understand illness enough to think it was anything other than her own physical failings. What could she have done differently?
"It will pass," she said gently, trying to reassure him though she herself had no true.. knowledge if it would. She didn't really believe so, either.