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Lord Eliwood being sick isn’t an unusual occurrence; it happens more often than any of them would like to admit, if only because they simply don’t want to see him suffer.
He’s their glue, after all. Lyn and Hector argue, Nils cries, Ninian silences herself; Eliwood is what holds them together. It’s unpleasant for all of them to see him in pain.
Lyn and Hector take turns bringing him food, glasses of water; Nils tags along with them, coming back to update Ninian on his condition—it seems he’s doing much worse than he normally is, refusing to eat and only occasionally drinking a sip of water, curled in on himself and unmoving in pain.
And then Hector steps out of Eliwood’s tent, holding another untouched meal, and Ninian can feel the frustration and concern radiating off of him in waves.
“Lord Hector, is—”
“He’s still not eating,” Hector grumbles, exhaling. The Ostian drags a hand down his face. Even without his armor on, he’s still a hulk of a man, yet typically not seen so concerned.
Ninian frowns. “I...see,” she murmurs, and she’s about to turn when Hector places a hand on her shoulder, exhaling.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says, and Ninian’s lips tighten into a firm line. Hector shuts his eyes, hand tracing down his forehead until his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, exhaling. “I think you should go in there and...I don’t know, comfort him?”
“Lord Hector—”
“Don’t take it the wrong way,” he repeats, exhaling, and Ninian cracks a smile.
That’s Lord Hector for you, always lighthearted, even in the worst of times.
(It makes sense why Eliwood and Lyn adore him.)
She feels somewhat inadequate entering his tent without at least some kind of meal or medicine to offer him, but she wasn’t handed any, and it’s apparent that he’s not eating anything anyway. He doesn’t even stir when she walks in—unusual for Lord Eliwood, always mindful of others and ever so aware of himself and his surroundings—and she bites her lower lip as she wanders over, debating whether or not to place herself at the foot of his bed.
“...my lord?” she murmurs quietly, as if speaking too loudly will cause him to fracture and break. That’s when he stirs, not even raising his head, but blinking his eyes open ever so slightly and mumbling something quietly. She clears her throat, staring down at her feet and messing with her hands. “I—um, Lord Hector told me that I should check on you, so I—”
“...thank you,” Eliwood says quietly. He gingerly pushes himself up, wrapping an arm around his stomach and wincing as he hunches over, other arm adjusting his legs as he shifts to a sitting position. “I’m sorry for worrying you—I wish I could have been up and leading the campaign today, but—”
“P-please don’t worry about it, my lord!” Ninian says quickly, rushing up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.
(Even through his thin nightshirt, he’s so warm, so much like his father, so—)
And then before she knows it, Eliwood’s free hand is draped over hers, fingers tracing lightly over her knuckles.
“Would you mind if I asked you to stay with me for a bit?” he says quietly, and suddenly his fingers are woven between hers, and she’s sure she’s red from head to toe. She nods and then seats herself on the bed beside him, taking his hand properly in hers and absentmindedly running her fingers over his palm as if trying to memorize every detail.
There’s a silence between them, comfortable but simultaneously heavy and full; he doesn’t seem to mind it, though, eyes fluttered shut, so she tries not to either, just tries to live in the moment.
(There will only be so many before she returns home, after all.)
It’s uncomfortable to just sit on the edge of the bed while he lays there, so she clears her throat again, looking down and trying not to make eye contact with him.
“U-um, please forgive me if this is a little forward,” she says, scooting onto the mattress, and then leaning down until she’s laying on her side, opposite from him with their faces mere inches apart, his hand still pressed against hers.
“I don’t mind,” he murmurs sleepily, and although she can still hear the pain tinting his voice, an easy smile graces his features, and she feels her cheeks heating up all over again.
Slowly, she watches him drift off to sleep, eyes already shut but hand progressively loosening hold on hers until it falls against his bed, fingers still half-curled; she closes her eyes as she listens to him breathe, even and unlabored in sleep, and soon finds herself drifting off to sleep as well.
~
When she wakes up, it’s around the middle of the night, and the rest of their group is silent; she wonders briefly if Lord Hector noticed she never left, and then shifts to move and return to her own tent before realizing she can’t—
—she traces her hand down to her waist, where Eliwood’s arms are wrapped around her, his head pressed lightly against her upper back, breath soft against her spine.
Ah. She must have rolled over in her sleep somehow, and then in his sleep, Eliwood must have unknowingly draped his arms around her, then.
(She certainly doesn’t mind, of course—she’s played out this scenario in her mind a hundred times, waking up by his side with nothing but sweet sleep separating them, but she’s not sure if he minds, and she would rather not take advantage of him in any manner, no matter how much she enjoys it.)
Slowly, she peels his arms away from her until she can scoot off the side of the bed, but as she does, Eliwood’s fingertips linger on hers for a moment longer, and she hears him mumble something behind her, frowning at the sudden absence beside him.
“...pardon, my lord?”
“Please don’t go,” he murmurs softly, and his fingers grasp for hers again. She moves a step back towards him, meeting his hand with hers again, and once again they are together, once again they are whole.
“I don’t want to bother you—”
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” he whispers back, and her heart melts as she takes a step towards him. Her spot beside him is inviting—she would be lying if she said otherwise—but—
“I won’t keep you if you’d rather go, but...”
“Oh no, my lord, I would much rather be here! But—”
“Then stay,” he says quietly, and Ninian exhales, smiling.
“...well, what am I supposed to do, my lord? Say no to the future marquess?”
His eyes are still shut, but he smiles then, almost a laugh, and wraps his arms around her once again, tucking his head over her shoulder as she shifts against him, back resting against his chest.
(So warm, so inviting, so much like she had imagined it would be.)
“My lord,” she whispers hesitantly, and she can feel him tense against her in response. “W-would you mind if I—” Then, she shakes her head, blushing furiously. “N-nevermind, Lord Eliwood. It would be too forward of me.”
“You can just ask,” he says gently. “I trust you.”
“May I—” she bites her lip then, trying to figure out the quickest way to leave if her question goes awry, and then exhales. Might as well just get it over with, she supposes. “...may I kiss you, Lord Eliwood?”
That certainly causes him to wake up. His eyes snap open, and she can hear him take a sharp inhale and not quite exhale after that. She scrunches her eyes shut and immediately withdraws her hands until they’re back by her side, already against the mattress to push herself up and go.
“M-my apologies, my lord! I’ll see myself ou—”
“N-no, Ninian, it’s fine!” he says, and she stops, heart pounding.
“My lord?”
“It’s—um—” he turns to the side and coughs, and Ninian wriggles around until she’s facing him, and like her, his cheeks are tomato-red, visible even despite the darkness. “I—” She can feel him shuffling before he finally huffs and places his hands against her cheeks, still flustered beyond belief. “Forgive me,” he says.
He gazes into her eyes for a moment, mouth slightly parted, before pressing his lips against hers, fingers tensing against the sides of her face. His lips are soft against hers, almost as if untouched by the sorrow and pain that had marked everywhere else on not just him but both of them, and what she had expected to be a short peck at best becomes something much deeper, much more intimate, something that makes her absolutely melt against him and want never to leave his side again.
Then, as soon as it happens, it’s over, and he’s looking away from her again, hands off of her cheeks, and although the distance between them is tiny, he suddenly feels so far away.
“S-sorry, that was just the only way I could think of to get how I felt out—”
“My lord,” she whispers, voice soft, and when he turns back to her, she kisses him again, the same way he had kissed her. only she throws an arm around the back of his neck until they’re pressed against each other, warm on the cool mattress, shielded from the even cooler night. When they pull away, she smiles, running a hand lightly through his hair as he settles against her chest, once again wrapping his arms around her waist. “Thank you. LIke you said, that’s the only way I could think to get my feelings out, either.”
“I appreciated it, to say the least,” he says with a laugh, and Ninian smiles. She pauses.
“...are you feeling any better than last night, my lord?” she asks softly. Eliwood exhales.
“Well, since I’m with you, most definitely, but physically...I’m not going to get better,” he responds quietly. “It’s been like this my entire life, and it’s only gotten worse. There are better days and there are worse days, but this is it,” he continues softly. “I wouldn’t blame you if it was too much.”
“It’s not too much,” she says softly, and she cranes her neck to give him a feather-light kiss on the top of his head, relishing in the way he relaxes against her. “I’ve gone through many things, Lord Eliwood. Being with you...may require a little more care than other people, but it certainly makes you no less worthy of love, or less worthy of having someone who will sit with you on days like today.”
“...thank you,” he says after a short pause. “...I love you, Ninian.”
“I love you too, my lord,” she responds softly, and they’re back to that comfortable silence, no longer heavy, but instead soft and pleasant and promising of better days, faced together.
And it stays like that, an unspoken promise hanging between them, until Ninian falls asleep; she’s the first to doze off this time, and Eliwood falls asleep listening to her rhythmic breathing, hands once again intertwined with hers, enveloped in warmth once more.