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synthneon2021-09-28 04:38 pm
hobbitholmes) wrote in synthneon2021-09-28 04:38 pm
Entry tags:
· CALL ME OUT (AUTUMN) ·
🎃 AUTUMN
it's a highwayhighway to the dark
and a neon medusa
has got YOUR HEART
❚ TAG A MUSE'S TOP LEVEL or PICK ONE
❚ START A THREAD! TEXT, PROSE, IMAGE, ECT
❚ MARK IF PART OF A PSL, STARTING ONE, OR NSFW
CODE
wait, we left it?! (thank you, nursed back to health)
It had been a struggle enough to bring the Pharaoh to a point of stability to even be moved back to the palace. In the following weeks, she had hardly left his bed side as she continued to heal the near fatal damage done to his body. She could sense something else had still lingered with Atem. However, that could be addressed after he was well enough for his body to heal on its own. Her attention had to remain on healing him... even if the High Priest had grimly noted it might be only enough for the burial process.
She had hardly slept these last few weeks. Any slight movement he gave or sound he made awoke her instantly. This time was no different. Her head shot up, eyes wide despite the dark circles underneath them. She leaned forward from the side of the bed, one hand raising to barely rest on his arm.
He is awake.
The thought oddly enough brought tears of relief and joy to her eyes. Lunafreya lowers her head, letting her long blonde hair slip over her shoulders as she tries to compose herself. Instead, the emotions over take her. She leans forward, her other hand moving to hold herself up as she hovers above him to meet his gaze. A watery smile takes her face before she gently rests her head on his chest. Her hands move to embrace him as delicately as she can. ]
You are awake at last...
good point, no we're permanently stuck on this train. rip us
Still, he's in no condition to do anything at the moment, even as his eyes open more fully and he slowly begins his return to the living.
Someone is there with him; he can tell that much, and although his eyes are still adjusting to the light, he catches flashes of blonde hair as the person he can only assume is his caretaker and healer moves around him. He finds himself still unable to move, simply because his limbs still feel leaden and heavy, but even as Lunafreya rests herself against him and her hands lightly embrace him, he doesn't feel overly distressed by this. Her gestures are comforting, and as he's still trying to take control of his senses, comfort is exactly what he needs.
She speaks and he dimly registers the words, even if he doesn't fully hear them. His mind supplies the rest, and he understands that it's been a considerable amount of time since he'd been awake. He can't quite tell how long it's been, but it can't have been very brief.
Then he attempts to say something, to use a voice that's long been silent, and because of that, he only manages to get out a barely formed sound: ]
Wha- [ What happened? is what he means to say, but the words don't properly form. Movement is still difficult, but he manages to move his fingers just enough that they're just barely grasping onto Lunafreya's in what would have been a firm grip if he was strong enough.
She might not understand him, and even if she did, part of him realizes she might decline to give answers until he's stronger, but answers are what he wants most right now.
As always, he's already decided, even though his mind and thoughts are still very muddled, that his personal well-being has to come second to the state of his kingdom and his people. ]
or are we the conductors, h mmmmm
Lunafreya pauses at the half-word that escapes him. She can surmise what he had wished to say. She would not say they had an intimate understanding of one another, but certainly a deep one. Many in his court had often whispered if perhaps they were in a secret relationship. It was a thought she had entertained privately to herself, but, had settled on the notion of simply being a close confident. While a princess from another kingdom, she was foremost the Oracle, and there would be little reason that would be appealing to a king beyond council. He had the concerns of his kingdom - the politics and power that would come from the concept of a relationship or marriage - to put first. She dare not upset any potentials for the kingdom that she, in all honesty, was merely a guest in.
A guest that may have stayed longer than any would have liked.
She wonders if he recognizes her in his haze and a part of her hopes he does not. No soul should see her with her barriers of the mantle of Oracle down. It is a carefully crafted mask and half-performance she gives, and a delicate balance of pieces of her as well as her mantle. This small selfish act of embracing him has been daring enough. It might be better if he does not retain the memory of her brief lapse of judgement.
Lunafreya pushes herself to sit again with the intention of still remaining at his side. Her own exhaustion and feeling of her magic reservoir being low is pushed to the side at the relief he is awake. Although... she does let her fingers remain in his weak grasp.
If it helps him then she will do whatever is asked of her. ]
The war is won, heka. [ Though, the finer details will remain. ] Your Priests are attending to the kingdom as you recover. Please, leave it in their hands.
hmm indeed
As for Lunafreya and the role she plays and fills in his life, well- if he's being honest, he can't imagine not having her present through his day to day affairs. Others might disapprove and even look questioningly at the two of them, but he considers her one of his closest allies and someone who he has come to trust very much.
At the same time, however, if she ever wished to leave and return to her own home, he wouldn't prevent her from doing so.
And at the present moment, that haze is enough to keep him from identifying much of anything, let alone any differences in her appearance or how she carries herself. What he does know is that she's someone he's been in the presence of before. Perhaps it's a scent that she wears, but his mind is telling him that he knows her, even if his vision isn't quite clear enough to confirm that.
He dimly registers her speaking of a war, and his priests attending to the kingdom, and the combination of those words registers in his mind as only one thing: danger. Well, danger and a threat to the stability of the kingdom.
Perhaps it doesn't make sense, and what he attempts to do next must seem like sheer nonsense, but his fingers tighten just a fraction against hers and with his other hand, he tries desperately to push himself up into a sitting position, doing his best to ignore the way his barely healed injuries protest. If he can manage that much, then perhaps he can manage standing.
Regardless of how he feels, now is hardly the time for the ruler of Egypt to be lying down, not when there is so much that needs to be done. The priests are capable, of course, but they aren't Egypt's Pharaoh. It hardly matters that he feels far too weak to even move; strength is required here, and he must be able to summon the willpower to get back on his feet again.
Of course, he doesn't make it very far before the premature attempt to move aggravates his injuries. Perhaps he should have anticipated that, but his momentary determination to move from this bed spoke louder than the voice of reason. ]
deeply ponders- what if are are both?
She snapped from ther thoughts the moment he began to move. A swift breeze of panic grasps her as she gasps. In a moment she has her free hand on his other arm, guiding him to lay down again , while the other clutches onto his own. Her eyes instantly lock to his as she follows her own motion. Now, once again, she hovers above him. ]
No, your wounds are yet to fully heal...
[ The hand on his arm moves to rest on the side of his face in an attempt to guide him to look at her. Even if he cannot recognize her, perhaps he can understand the tone of her voice. After a shaky exhale, she tilts her head up enough to kiss his forehead. ]
You can't move - not yet. Not until you can sit with ease at the very least.
[ Formalities fall to the side as her worry grows and panic begins to set in. She can sense the deeper wounds re-agitating, threatening to worsen once again if he continues attempting to sit up. The hand holding onto his own wraps in a warm glow as her eyes close to focus on those wounds again. ]
Please, Atem.
[ She so rarely says it -- his name. Formalities, duties, the fact that Pharaohs are seen as the living embodiment and holder of divine will. The notion that saying his name, in her mind, implies a level of familiarity and companionship she had not been given permission to have. Thousands of small reasons she has always told herself to keep a level of formality of distance between them.
After all, she is only the Oracle. There is no need or use of her other than that.
Even knowing all that she does of her position and status... she finds that she has yet to move either of her hands. ]
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. ]
both it is /dons moogle crown and gives one
She guides him down to the bed as gently as she can. Her thumb gently brushes against his cheek bone before she forces herself to pull away. The ends of her mid-back length hair brush along him the moment she pushes her tired body from the bed to grab new bandages. While her family has the power to heal through magic? His wounds will still need to heal in traditional way - for both their sakes.
Moments later she returns to his side, pulling the skirt of her dress up in order to sit fully on the bed. She wishes she had the magical reservoir in her to ease him to sleep as she can only imagine the pain he is in. What little is left must go to healing his reopened wound. The new bandages are set to the side before she sets about working. She is as gentle as she can be in lifting the old bandages from the skin. An apologetic glance is spared down to him before her tear filled gaze settles back to his wound.
Her hands then raise to be merely centimeters from the bleeding wound and her eyes slip shut again to focus. Her hands are enveloped in a golden but warm glow. She channels it to him, attempting to help the skin reform into its' delicate state. A tingling sensation starts at the tips of her fingers. There is little mana to pull from now and her body is demanding she realize this. Finally, she relents, pulling her hands back to dip them in the bowl of water to the side. She cleans and dries them, then sets back to gently re-bandaging his wound.
Lunafreya simply sits there a moment. She slowly reaches out for his own hand then, fingers curling around his with a strong grip. Her eyes drift shut as her thumb brushes over his hand to give what comfort she can for the pain he must be in. Her other hand raises to the crown of his head, fingers gently brushing his hair to soothe him. It takes what little remains in her to remain upright and awake, hoping she might help calm him into a needed rest. ]
There is little else I can do for you right now... so please, rest. You can't lead - you can't govern - like this. You've saved your kingdom and those in the capital. Let those who remain govern until you can sit upright again.
[ Lunafreya's eyes close if only to keep tears at bay. ] I will be here - at your side - until you tire of me. I'll do what I can so you might return to your people.
[ Her head lowers as she bites her lip. She wishes nothing more for him to remain in this world with them -- with her. Seeing him in such state has only caused her to realize how much she treasures the idea of being in his court. Even if he values her presence for only the counsel and direction she provides. Though her feelings may not be returned? Being in a world that he is alive in is enough; being in his court and near him is enough.
Although, there a part of her remains that wishes for more. ]
aw yis moogle crown 8D
If he'd died in the fight, another would rise up to take his place, but at least he made sure that Zorc's threat was no longer an immediate issue, even if regrouping and picking up the pieces left behind still was something that needed to be done.
In the present, however, it feels as though his entire world has just exploded with pain. It's his own doing, of course, because he has pushed himself too far beyond his limits, and all he can do is lie there and wait for it to pass once more. If sleep would only claim him, it would relieve some of the strain, but it seems to still be eluding him.
He's aware of Lunafreya's efforts to heal the opened wound once more, and as it closes, some of his pain lessens, but he has a lot of ground to cover before he'll be able to sit up without help.
At the moment, words seem to have failed him, even as he lets her own words of advice and mild reproof sink in. Of course he's in no position to lead, and while he trusts his people and his advisors implicitly, the fact remains that enemies wait for situations like this so that they might use them to their advantage, rather like sharks in the water waiting for the right moment to strike. He can't even manage to leave his bed, so it isn't difficult for him to imagine that someone might use his weakness to pull control and the rule of Egypt away from him.
But those thoughts quickly vanish once he realizes how very upset she is. Surely it isn't mere upset at his foolish attempt to push himself before he was ready. He must have done something else wrong to have upset her this much. And it's with that thought in mind that he weakly attempts to squeeze her hand again, even if all he manages is a faint touch. It's hardly a reassuring gesture, but he desperately wants to pass on to her that he'll be all right, even if it might take some time for him to fully regain his strength.
There's an unspoken apology in his eyes too; an apology for upsetting her and causing her to worry about him. She needs rest as well; caring for him and expending the energy she has to heal him has clearly taken a lot out of her.
He can't put all of this into words, but he hopes that some of it is clear in the look he's giving her. ]
you can get a kupo crown :3 im just saying
A shake of her head at his apology. She leans down, gently resting her forehead to his. The notion feels natural to do. Surely he needs comfort and reassurances of his own. He has yet to rebuke her touch or try to roll away from her. A fleeting thought crosses her mind - maybe he wishes to be closer to her as well. The doubt of such a thought is quick to surface. There would be no reason for him to desire such a thing from her... or even with her. ]
You have nothing to apologize for, my dear Atem. Not one thing. [ Her voice is soft as to not cause him further discomfort. He must be in an excruciating amount of pain. ] You have done your duty as Pharoah ten-fold and saved both worlds. That is more than enough for now.
[ Her fingers move through the odd ways his hair lays as she tries to find something - anything - that can comfort him.
She pauses then, pressing her lips together. She should not speak the words that wish to leave her. There is no reason to burden him with her own feelings... or give the expectation that he should return them. She shakes her head yet again at her own foolishness. ]
Your recovery must be the most important thing now. Your people and your court still need you. They need their king to guide them forward.
[ ... I need you. ]
oh can you now... :3
That she's still with him is giving him comfort and the reassurance that he can rise above this, if only with time. Movement remains difficult, but he can at least manage to shake his head, if only barely. He believes he has a lot to apologize for, and that his condition is his own doing, his own fault. Even so, he'd do it again to save his people. The wounds he sustained and the difficulty he's having now are worth all of it.
Now he just has to find the strength to rally and stand, because he can't lead from his bed.
The feel of her fingers in his hair is enough to cause the barest ghost of a smile to crest his face, but it's very clearly strained. How can I guide them forward when I'm lying here like this?
And it's with that thought in mind that he places his hand against the bed, trying to provide himself with enough support to bring himself a little closer to her, ignoring how his wounds protest once again. He has to will himself to ignore the loud protests of discomfort coming from the hand he's using in a desperate effort to prop himself up. Not all of his injuries were life-threatening, which of course he's grateful for, but the fact remains that they are all significant enough to require a lengthy recovery time. Placing as much weight as he is on his hand is ill-advised, because he's still quite weak, but there's injuries present on said hand and forearm as well to further complicate things.
Nevertheless, in spite of what she, or those who might call themselves more practical than him, would say, experiencing pain is part of life, and sometimes it's worth it. ]
kupo coffer si si it's a whole outfit!
Lunafreya glances down at the hand he moves to push himself closer. Why? The pain he is in should not be worth the notion of being close to her. The desire and need to lead - bearing the mantle he has such a young age - is far more reasonable in her mind. No, it cannot be that he wishes to be close to her out of some grand gesture of affection. He must merely be seeking comfort from anyone willing to bestow it on him. There would be no reason for anything more coming from her... the Oracle and the Princess of Tenebrae.
Regardless of her own self doubts? If his needs are in her power to grant then she will do so. It pertains to her duty, yes, but she has found just how deeply she cares for him. The idea that he may not return from his battle with Zorc, and then the fear he may not live through his injuries was enough for her to realize how much she had denied her feelings.
She places a kiss to his forehead before easing herself down onto the bed beside him. The hand in his hair leaves to reach over and still the one he is using to push himself. Then, a shake of her head. She will come to him if being close is truly what he desires and needs in the moment. Her hand trails from his then to rest on the wound on his chest with the briefest of hesitation. It wraps in a warm glow, seeking not to heal, but to give comfort and ease his pain.
Lunafreya gently leans forward enough to press her forehead to his. All he ever need do is ask in anyway and she will find a way to make it reality. ]
You must be able to at least sit with some ease before you can attend to your court and countrymen. I can only do so much for your injuries. [ The sadness in her tone states she wishes she could heal him entirely. Even if then he'd have no more need of her outside of counsel.
Her head tilts just enough to kiss his cheek. She shakes at the small gesture, a mixture of nerves, excitement, and fear that he might push her away. ] If you must lead,I will find your Priests so you might speak with them here.
But, for this moment--[ She forces herself to raise her eyes to meet his violet ones. ]--lie here, with me.
no subject
Why is he doing this? For the comfort she gives, yes, but also because he's finally come to a realization. It's a strange time for it, of course, but there's something about going off to what could very well be one's death that clears up certain things. He's suspected that what he feels for her goes beyond mere gratitude for her support and counsel, but it's only now that he's realizing just what it is.
And it's that realization that's driving him to want to be close to her because he's come to care for her very much, perhaps even more than he's ever cared for anyone.
But even as he tries to process her words and absorb their meaning, and even as he contemplates shifting position so that he can reach out for her, it becomes clear that his body has reached its limit and can no longer sustain itself or the things he wishes to do. He dimly registers the kiss she brushed against his cheek, as well as the request to lie with her.
Well, it seems that she'll get her wish, as what little strength he has flees, and he sags back down onto the bed. But even as he falls back, he tries to keep his eyes open so that he might keep his gaze locked on hers. It's a losing effort, because all his senses are paradoxically in overdrive and yet flagging. The desire to stay awake and aware fights against the need to fall back into unconsciousness and give in to the weakness that still hovers over him.
He forces himself to reach out for her, as if trying to indicate without words that he needs her too. ]
no subject
Even if she is aware there might come a time when he tells her that he no longer needs her presence as they are.
Her other hand raises to gently brush the blonde strands of hair from his face. She will still be present once he wakes again... however long that might be. Although, she hopes it is not weeks at a time.
There are no more words to be said unless she is to repeat herself. Instead she simply holds his hand in hers and gently brushes his hair with the tips of her fingers with the other. ]
no subject
It isn't until some time has passed that a frown forms on his face and he shifts position as best as he can with her next to him. Lying still for as long as he has caused stiffness to set in, and his injuries are protesting against it.
Finally, sleep becomes impossible and his eyes snap open. He would sit up if only to change positions in hopes of easing some of the discomfort, but one brief moment of resting can't be enough to restore his strength.
So he settles for lying there, eyes looking up at the ceiling above him, not wishing to disturb Lunafreya, if she too has managed to fall asleep. ]
no subject
Lunafreya's head raises then. The sleep is evident in her eyes, and her other hand lifts to rub at them. She would not have him awake on his own in case there is something he might need. She pushes herself to sit up, using one arm to anchor herself so that she might look down at him. The other still remains on his hand. ]
What is wrong? [ She imagines it has something to do with his injuries or perhaps dreams. A shift in her posture happens so she can sit properly to attend to him. ] Is there something I might do to help?
no subject
Of course his injuries are making him uncomfortable, but on top of that is the feeling that he's not being the best leader that he could be. Still, no one should see him in this current state, so perhaps it's for the best, even if he feels as though he's only letting everyone down.
It isn't until he notices Lunafreya moving and waking up from her own sleep that he manages to pull himself out of his own thoughts again. He knows she's looking down at him, waiting for an answer to her questions, but he doesn't have them.
It takes him a moment, but he finally settles on what to say. ]
I- I couldn't sleep. [ That should be obvious, of course, and doesn't need to be said. But it isn't himself that he's thinking about right now. ]
You should rest; I won't keep you awake. [ He knows she expended a lot of energy healing him, and so she must be absolutely exhausted. If he has to, he'll find a way to leave this room so that she can get the sleep she needs. ]
silly luna, thinking she'll never have a chance at this again
That includes the Pharaoh of Egypt.
A gentle shake of her head. Then, she pulls her hand away only so that she might push herself closer to the headboard. Ever so carefully, her hands slip under his shoulders to move him up, just enough to slip behind him. Her hands ease him back down so his head would rest in her lap. If nothing else, she can give him companionship and comfort. Her reserves are too low to continue to heal him at the moment. Although, something tells her he would tell her to stop if she attempted again.
One hand raises to brush through his hair while the other gently moves down the side of his neck. Her fingers search for points where his muscles might be tense in order to try and alleviate some tightness that would cause him further discomfort. If the attention turns out to be unwanted? He will most certainly tell her. ]
And what if you need something? I doubt the guards would hear you with how far the doors are, Atem. [ Her voice is soft, but she hesitates in using the language she had before. It could be seen as too familiar -- too intimate. While she finds that her emotions and feelings for him run deeper... they may not be returned. ] Allow me to keep your company and try to ease you back to sleep. Both of us need the company for now.
[ As she is very much aware he will return to his duties as soon as he can. He will be surrounded by his Priests as they consult one another on how to piece the kingdom together. There is no doubt in her mind she will wander out into the public and aid those who are in need there. What little moment this is will most certainly be the only time they will have like this. ]
meanwhile atem's like, how can I keep her around longer?
So as far as he's concerned, while he has the title of Pharaoh, he's not any more important than anyone else.
But right here in this moment, especially when she's so close that he could practically lose himself in her presence and the subtle floral fragrance that he notices in the air when she's around, he's not thinking about anything but how he might ask her if she might consent to staying with him for a little while longer.
When her hands slip beneath his shoulders and she eases him down so that his head is pillowed in her lap, he doesn't resist. Her presence is comforting, and he can't remember the last time someone offered him comfort like this.
Even his muscles begin to unknot and relax beneath her touch. This, in its own way, is more healing than any magical spell. ]
I'm all right. [ It's not an answer to her question, but there's still a hint of stubbornness in his voice, even if most of it is covered over by the lingering weakness he still feels.
But then he smiles a small sort of smile even as he asks: ]
Is it all right if you stay? Surely you have other responsibilities besides looking after me. And- [ He pauses, looking down as if surveying himself and his current condition. ] Would you say that the worst is over?
[ It doesn't take a genius to know that it will take time for his strength to return, but what he's wondering is if he's out of the woods. At least he can speak again, although he can tell that even that requires expending energy. ]
i mean he could ask but....
Her eyes drift close as her fingers continue to work down his neck, then to the back of his neck. They move down to where the neck meets the shoulders. It is a gentle motion meant to ease the tension. His answer simply makes her eyebrows raise as she continues to work. ]
I see. [ The tone suggests that she does not believe him. In fact, she is very aware that his body is not fine.
However, the words she might have said catch in her throat at his question. Her eyes open to lock onto his again. The fingers still against his skin, the others twine themselves in his hair. ]
... the mortal danger is over, yes. [ Her voice is even softer than before--barely above a whisper. Lunafreya's gaze drifts to the side. A slight pink takes to her cheeks. ] Your recovery is all that I have tasked myself with since your victory.
[ Despite herself, she quiets then. She would tell him that there is no place she would rather be. Attending to him like this, speaking while he is awake? It brings a sense of contentment but also the feeling of fulfillment to her. She has done more than her station and acted in a way that her heart cries out for. Voicing all of this, however... he may not wish to hear it. Surely the feelings she has are not returned. There must be others he would wish to be with more, perhaps even another he has needed to court until the threat of Zorc appeared...
Her gaze lowers slightly with a look of sadness crossing her features. There would be no need of her to stay once he is able to move on his own again. He and his Priests will either take her counsel to live a different way with spirit monsters or they will not. The Oracle would have no reason to linger... and what is she if not the Oracle?
The fingers that stilled begin to move again as they had. Even if her thoughts wander away from her? She has still given herself the duty of caring for him through this ordeal and she will see it through. ]
oh he might very well do that..... eventually. when I'm finished being mean to him...
And what about the kingdom's recovery? [ That is his responsibility to see to, more so than hers or anyone else's, and from his position here, he can't even see the first steps he ought to take to achieve that.
The notion that he should be doing something, anything, to help with his kingdom's recovery has been a thought lurking in the back of his mind, and while he's felt the ripples of what could only be called distress because of his own inaction, they've stayed in the background thus far. But now that he's able to speak and think, those thoughts come more to the forefront.
He casts a glance at her, wishing that all he had to think about was how he could strive to keep her with him, going as far as to ask her to do so. It's something he desires, and he opens his mouth to finally give voice to it. ]
Lunafreya, I- [ His words abruptly break off, and one hand moves to grip his chest as if something there is suddenly causing trouble. His breaths also sound strained as if he has to fight to even draw just one.
Now, his gaze snaps to hers, but even if he could put into words a request for help, it doesn't seem to him (even in his sudden alarmed state) that there's very much she could do, if his guess about what is happening is correct. ]
D: Luna will protect her man
[ She must remind herself of that small fact. Her duty has brought her to this kingdom and her duty it should remain. Feelings, no matter how deep or how powerful, have no place in the court and certainly in politics. These moments where she might be Lunafreya and he Atem will certainly not continue past this time.
Her attention moves back to him as be speaks her full name and not her title. Then, that spike of fear and panic surges through her as he grabs his chest. She wastes no time in turning so she is at his side, still sitting in order for him to remain in her lap. Her hands move to his chest, fingers gently working under his hand to lay flat against his skin.
Eyes drift shut as she reaches our with her senses. What is causing him this sudden pain? A wound she can ease into healing? Something that lurks inside that she might comfort? ]
don't mind him, he's just going to glue himself to her side for a little while. forget propriety
It's only too true that they're able to just be themselves inside these walls, but when they go outside, all of that changes and they have to fall back into their respective roles.
The struggle between what he wants and what he feels he must do continues to pull on him, and that only contributes to his distress. It's not anything that can be healed as she did previously, and not a physical wound that's broken open, but something intangible and far more difficult to reach.
His fingers tighten against his chest, and inadvertently against her hands, as if trying desperately to wrench away the emotional upset that's threatening to suffocate him. But it can't be dislodged that way, however hard he tries.
It's a storm he'll have to ride out, if he can only call on the strength he needs for it. ]
she likes that ~~ also sneaks this in
Comfort, however, she can most certainly give.
The hand on his chest turns to hold his. She hesitates for only a moment before sliding her fingers between his -- stopping halfway in case he should wish to pull his hand away. Her head lowers to press a kiss to his forehead once more. Perhaps the notions are too bold and too familiar... but she can think of nothing else to help ease the surge of emotions in him. ]
You are Pharaoh, my dear. You represent Egypt in all her facets. If the land and people must recover... so must you. After you sleep I will send for your Priests.
good~ he likes it too
If this is how I represent Egypt, then no one should look at me. The internal response to her words bursts into the forefront of his mind, even as a counter-argument to that forms itself in protest. He won't be like this forever, or at least, he hopes that he won't. What he needs to do is give himself time to recover, as she's been saying all along, and then he can rise and resume his position as Egypt's Pharaoh.
But rather than calm settling in again, his agitation only seems to increase. This panicked reaction seems like foolishness even as it takes further hold of him, and if he could glare at himself with disgust, he would.
If she weren't there in the room with him, he'd just let his eyes travel up to the ceiling and remain there, staring at it while trying to find some way to calm himself. But she is present, and she's what he fixes his gaze on.
Even so, it feels like an eternity passes before his breathing finally evens out and returns to a more normal rate, and the tension that overtook him gives way, leaving him feeling as though all his bones have melted and he can do no more than simply lie there.
He does manage to give her hand a weak squeeze so that she at least knows he's still there with her. ]
these two just need to cuddle and kiss and get on with it
Perhaps he is only seeking the affection she gives so readily because he is injured. She tells herself this over and over in her mind as to not to be attached to this moment. Regardless, she finds herself doing just the opposite. She would press him closer, kiss him, tell him stories of her homeland and her family. She would simply be with him.... if she felt it was her place.
Instead she remains as she is with her fingers gently sliding up and down his own to bring him some form of comfort with her forehead pressed to his. ]
at least they're slowly moving in the right direction
might be doing better than their counterparts?
they certainly seem to be!
i'm shocked and yet thrilled at the same time, go guys go ;~;
(no subject)