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When Dimitri got sick, it always hit him like a wyvern rider had run straight into him, full force with axes swinging. He was curled up in bed, a mountain of tissues surrounding him, shivering like a wet dog. He hated getting sick, it meant he couldn't focus on important things, like rebuilding his kingdom and all of Fodlan after a bloody war. It had been two years since he had defeated Edelgard, and now it was his job to make sure the rest of the Adrestian Empire did not fall apart under him. Claude was helpful, bless him, but it was a lot of stress on the body and mind.
And that stress left him dreadfully sick, causing him to cancel all of his meetings to wallow in his own ineptitude.
The door would occasionally open for various attendants and guards, leaving him untouched food or various tinctures and vials of vulneraries in hopes that it would cure his illness. He ignored it all, deciding he just needed a good night's rest and to violently remove all of the phlegm from his body.
"Look at you." The door opened to reveal Felix, his closest advisor, looking down on him with a mixture of disgust and pity. Dimitri tried to respond but coughed violently instead, jolting him up. He was without a shirt, unable to find a happy medium between too-hot or too-cold. Felix sighed and sat next to him at his desk chair, making sure to avoid the diseased rags that surrounded him. "Wallowing in your own sickness."
"Yes, Felix," Dimitri grumbled, his voice thick. "Not much I can do but wallow." He fell back into bed, his scarred eye uncovered and his hair a greasy mess. He was a mess in general, Felix could tell that just from walking in the door. He shook his head.
"Get up. You need a bath, boar."
Dimitri sat up slowly, his nose cherry red as he rubbed it with the back of his forearm. "I just bathed the other day, I'm fine-"
"Shut up. You are filthy." It was times like this that Felix felt a gnawing fear in the back of his mind that all of this stress would cause him to regress, to lose sight of what the future held for them. And it was times like this that made Felix's determination to stay by Dimitri's side all the more important. Dimitri got up, dropping his blankets as little crumpled tissues fell from him, bouncing uselessly on the bed. He only had a pair of loose trousers on, hunched over and hugging his arms to his body. For the king of Faerghus, he looked surprisingly small like this.
"Lead the way, Felix." Felix entered the bath, Dimitri shedding his last layers of clothing and slipping into the tub as Felix filled it with scalding hot water. He flinched at the contact, but let himself slide in nonetheless. He forgot how hot Felix liked his bathwater, enough to turn his skin pink. It made sense considering the climate they lived in, but it did always seem excessive to Dimitri.
"Lean back." Dimitri did as he was told, Felix dumping a packet of dried herbs into the tub. His hands went into Dimitri's wild hair and massaged it slowly, the King sliding deeper and deeper into the water. The sharp scent of the rose and frankincense blend mixed with the steam of the water traveled into Dimitri's tortured sinuses and soothed them.
"I should ask you to do this more often." Dimitri hummed, Felix's deft fingers doing wonders on his scalp.
"You are ridiculous." Dimitri huffed a short laugh, craning his head up to kiss one of Felix's fingers. Once Felix was sure he had been sufficiently cleaned - Dimitri tried to get up twice only to have Felix slam him back into the tub with a messy splash that left him soaked - he got up and reached for a towel, wrapping it around himself and missing the heat of the water on his skin.
"Am I allowed back into bed yet, Felix?"
"Hold on." Felix stripped out of his now soaked jacket and trousers, leaving him in his smallclothes and damp, sleeveless turtleneck as he went to the bed and stripped the bed of their previously disease-covered sheets. "Come help me for a second." Dimitri had been in the process of drying himself off as he watched Felix clamber onto his bed and fuss with a fitted sheet, letting out a small laugh as he helped him with the furthest corners. Felix pulled a new comforter out of the closet and tossed it unceremoniously onto the bed, Dimitri now in proper nightclothes. "There. Now you can get in bed."
Dimitri had no earthly idea what he would do without Felix. He got into bed gingerly, taking another tissue and blowing all that had come loose from the steam into it. Felix made a face, turning to look at the array of untouched food on his desk. "You need to eat." He truly seemed to care for him, Dimitri's heart fluttering with affection. But the thought of food made his stomach feel heavy.
"I'm not very hungry." Dimitri wrapped himself in the covers again, another cough wracking his body. Felix leaned in and pressed the back of his hand against Dimitri's forehead, frowning and replacing it with a soft, lingering kiss.
"You're feverish. You need to eat." Dimitri hoped the blush was from his sickness and not from Felix's cracked lips grazing his forehead for too long. He took a bowl of soup, still warm from the last attendant, and swirled a spoon idly. "If you don't eat, I'll make you eat." He filled the spoon with liquid, holding it out for Dimitri. He felt silly, but it was nice to see just how much Felix cared about his health. He leaned in and took the spoonful of soup, warming his insides. This back and forth continued until Dimitri shook his head, Felix putting the bowl back and moving back to the bathroom. The tap ran as Felix mumbled to himself.
"Mercedes is out visiting her brother at the Empire the one week you come down with a fever … curse your luck, boar." The tap shut off and he came back, placing a soaked towel across Dimitri's forehead, a second resting along the back of his neck.
Felix could only ever do a basic healing spell, and he wasn't terribly good at it. He wasn't good at most magic, his spells had always been limited, but desperate times sometimes called for desperate measures. A well timed Thoron had saved them many times during the war. When Felix stretched out his hand, warm green energy collecting at his fingertips, Dimitri couldn't help but look up with awe. "It's not much, but maybe it'll help." The green lingered on his fingertips a few moments longer before jumping from his skin to Dimitri's, permeating the wet towel and seeping into him. Dimitri's eye slid shut as the magic tickled his senses, loosening his shoulders and quieting his pounding headache.
"Thank you, Felix."
"Quiet." Felix leaned forward, pushing the damp hair away from the compress. "I do not need your thanks. If I didn't nurse you back to health, nothing would get done." Dimitri hummed at his touch, unable to stop the smile growing on his face. Felix remained, feet up on his chair, watching Dimitri lay peacefully for a long stretch of time. He just watched, the occasional hand sneaking out to grab a tissue or a glass of water. Dimitri heaved himself up into a sitting position, reaching a hand out and touching Felix's knee.
"You don't have to stay, I would hate for you to come down with whatever I have."
Felix huffed and folded his arms. "Stubborn." He said, as if staying and keeping watch over his ill king was not the very definition of stubbornness. "I'm staying." Dimitri could only fall back into the pillows, pulling the covers to his chin and looking at him with one hazy blue eye.
"Well, if you don't care about getting sick, come keep me company."
Felix sighed, slipping into bed behind him and resting his cheek against the larger man's back. "You better get to sleep." His words were quiet, mostly muffled by the covers and Dimitri's body. Dimitri had been avoiding sleep, which was not aiding in his condition: sleep meant fever dreams. Many of the dreams of the past had slipped away, but the atrocities he had committed when everyone was gone, when he was alone; those haunted him still. He let his lid slide down, slowed his breathing, and hoped this would be enough for Felix to believe he had fallen asleep.
He waited, silently, as Felix's own breathing slowed and became more level, only drawing in long, deep breaths. Dimitri could only imagine how much work he needed to do for the day to cover for his illness. He drew his arms in and found himself drifting off, comfortable and warm in bed with him.
When he opened his eyes, all he saw was red. It was raining, his breathing was ragged, he had nothing but his bare hands to keep him safe. He was surrounded by guards, Cornelia's guards, after he had escaped from prison. He let out a roar and swiped, two men falling. The next two tried to jump on his back, arrows loosed from an unseen location. One stuck into his arm, another in his thigh. He felt nothing. He threw the men off him like they were children, grabbed one of their lances and speared them on it. There was something still attached to the lance, but his bloodied vision could not see more than the bodies ahead that needed to fall. More men came, infinitely more, and the bodies piled up as he slaughtered each and every one of them. He saw nothing, felt nothing, only a hunger that could never be sated.
He had stolen another lance and was facing off against a lone swordsman, standing in a readied stance. Dimitri charged, claw outreached, and grabbed the man, slamming him against the wall multiple times. He slid from the wall, adding to the red in his vision, before Dimitri sent the spear directly into his gut. In that moment, his vision cleared, some sense returned, and the face in front of him morphed and changed.
Glenn. Rodrigue. Felix.
He cried out, falling to a knee as more men piled on top of him. They were tying him up now, trying to contain him. He let out a series of violent screams, swiping this way and that. Every sense came crashing back in that moment. Everything hurt now: the sting of arrows littering his body, the axes trying and failing to crack his armor, the ropes harshly binding his arms and legs behind him. But none hurt more than the ever changing face in front of him, a man he had senselessly slaughtered, a man who he cared for, who cared for him, a man who he loved.
"Be quiet."
Suddenly, his eye shot open and he was back in bed, head stuffy and face damp with tears. Felix's arms had worked their way around his waist, hugging him close. "If you keep thrashing like that, you'll knock my head off." Felix grumbled, still half asleep. Dimitri rolled over in his grip, kissing all over his head and face as he held Felix close. Felix wriggled in his grip, looking up at him.
"Nightmares?"
"From when Cornelia captured me. I saw … I had hurt you." Dimitri's voice faltered, coughing violently as he held Felix.
"I'm here." Felix was soft, despite how he hid it from others. At times like this, when Dimitri was open and vulnerable, he seemed to understand it wasn't time for sharp words. It did take Felix an incredibly long time to hone this skill, but Dimitri appreciated it nonetheless. He stayed quiet and held him, Dimitri feeling the dream slip from his mind, replaced by thoughts of Felix. "You're pathetic," he started, Dimitri feeling a smile against his chest. "You can't even sleep right." They all had nightmares, he knew Felix wasn't chastising him in earnest.
"Did I wake you?"
"You donkey kicked me in the stomach."
Dimitri flushed, burying his head in Felix's hair. "I'm sorry." Felix didn't respond, only pulled him in closer. Dimitri held the other man, his closest advisor, his love. "What meetings do I have moved to tomorrow?" Felix grumbled against his chest and looked back up.
"None, if you still have a fever."
"But Felix-"
"But nothing." The sharpness had returned, his eyes narrowing. "You'll never get better if you keep overworking yourself." Dimitri sighed and nodded. He knew Felix was right, but there was so much that had to be done still. "If worse comes to worse, I'll bring Claude up and we can discuss the various unification tactics up here. Our courier system is still too slow."
"I told you, we need to start using Galatea's Pegasus knights." Dimitri felt himself drifting off again, idly playing with Felix's loose hair. "Close to the Leicester Alliance border, a little far from us, but Ingrid can get to us quickly." Felix frowned but made no argument.
"Go back to sleep. We'll talk more once you wake up."
"All right, Felix. Thank you." Dimitri pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, sniffling loudly. Felix buried his head in Dimitri's shoulder, that little smile hidden against his skin. He truly had no idea what he would do without Felix in his life, and he was thankful he wouldn't have to figure that out any time soon.