[ For Atem, it has always seemed like the wisest course of action to seek counsel from as many people as possible, hearing different perspectives and different pieces of advice. That remains the main reason why he has his priests and advisors at his disposal, but that also explains why he wishes to have Lunafreya nearby for as long as she wishes to stay.
Now, however, he's not thinking about that: he's thinking about how best to force himself into an upright position while contending with the stabbing sensation in his midsection. He hasn't taken stock of his injuries, but the fact remains that they are many. Some of them are more superficial: scrapes and cuts that will heal without too much difficulty. Others are deeper and more serious, and as he tries to push himself upright, the damaged skin that's barely holding together begins to open once more thanks to his efforts.
He can hear her urging him to remain still, to not move and risk re-injuring himself, but the notion that he's a leader and he must lead drowns her out. It isn't until the pain from his wounds protesting against the movement crests and the feeling of blood seeping out through the bandages that she's placed in order to further promote healing brings his attempts at movement to a halt.
His right hand drops to press limply against his side that's also bandaged, and if not for her supporting him, he'd most likely have fallen back onto the bed, unable to keep himself upright.
Clearly he won't be moving from this bed anytime soon, no matter what he wants or thinks he must do. At least in that way, her wishes that he remain still have been met.
His efforts to move have drained what little strength he had, and although he wishes to speak with her, to say something, he can't muster up the strength to even form words. If he could, however, as strange as it might seem, he'd make some comment about liking how it sounds when she says his name.
He might still, if he remembers all of this once he's recovered again. He knows better than anyone that there are roles they all have to play, and with those roles comes certain expectations for behavior, but truthfully, he wishes that there wasn't such a need for titles and formality.
And he certainly doesn't mind that her hands are still positioned where they are. ]
both is good
Now, however, he's not thinking about that: he's thinking about how best to force himself into an upright position while contending with the stabbing sensation in his midsection. He hasn't taken stock of his injuries, but the fact remains that they are many. Some of them are more superficial: scrapes and cuts that will heal without too much difficulty. Others are deeper and more serious, and as he tries to push himself upright, the damaged skin that's barely holding together begins to open once more thanks to his efforts.
He can hear her urging him to remain still, to not move and risk re-injuring himself, but the notion that he's a leader and he must lead drowns her out. It isn't until the pain from his wounds protesting against the movement crests and the feeling of blood seeping out through the bandages that she's placed in order to further promote healing brings his attempts at movement to a halt.
His right hand drops to press limply against his side that's also bandaged, and if not for her supporting him, he'd most likely have fallen back onto the bed, unable to keep himself upright.
Clearly he won't be moving from this bed anytime soon, no matter what he wants or thinks he must do. At least in that way, her wishes that he remain still have been met.
His efforts to move have drained what little strength he had, and although he wishes to speak with her, to say something, he can't muster up the strength to even form words. If he could, however, as strange as it might seem, he'd make some comment about liking how it sounds when she says his name.
He might still, if he remembers all of this once he's recovered again. He knows better than anyone that there are roles they all have to play, and with those roles comes certain expectations for behavior, but truthfully, he wishes that there wasn't such a need for titles and formality.
And he certainly doesn't mind that her hands are still positioned where they are. ]