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Upon initially waking up, murkiness clouded Aeleus’s mind. Swimming through mud, or molasses, trying to parse whether his thoughts were rightside up or upside down. Only after he drew a slow, laborious breath did his physical senses return; dizziness, weakness, a dull knot in his side, and something mildly cool pressed across his forehead. Overall, it felt like he'd been run down by a trolley car and then backed up over. He suppressed a groan as he cracked open dry eyes, blinking away the blur and sleep to gauge his surroundings.
The ceiling light and standing lamp in the corner remained off, but the room was still illuminated sufficiently by light shining in through the undrawn windows, with the one to the left of his bed slightly cracked open, allowing the sounds of distant bustle from the town below to seep in. No breeze, or at least not one that he could feel on his clammy skin. And the window to his right was blocked by Ienzo seated in a chair with his lab coat draped over the back, cradling one of Aeleus's arms in his hands, head down to read the book sprawled open in his lap. One hand held Aeleus's wrist carefully, forcing his palm to angle upwards, while the other hand adjusted slightly further up the arm, thumb pressing into the muscle at the flat just barely an inch past the wrist. His gaze would flick between the book, to his hands to adjust the position—bend the wrist a little bit more, move the thumb a smidge down—and then back to the book.
As pressure applied to the arm again, the taught pain in Aeleus's side ebbed just enough for him to feel comfortable speaking. “What are you doing?”
Ienzo visibly jumped, head snapping up to look at Aeleus with wide eyes while a hand darted down to catch the jostled book. “Oh!” Once his book was quickly secured again, he rested his palm over Aeleus's arm where he was previously pressing. “Sorry, did that wake you?”
“No,” Aeleus rumbled groggily, and tried to sit up. His left side suddenly twisted horribly, as if the tissue beneath the thick scar began ripping apart at the seams. Muscle convulsing, he slammed a palm down to cover it and hissed loudly, teeth gnashing, dropping unceremoniously back into the bed. He took two deep, harsh breaths through his mouth before the pain dulled to something manageable, and he realized dimly that Ienzo was pressing on his arm again, blue eyes glazed with concern. “What happened?” He managed to choke out.
Ienzo stared silently for some seconds, inspecting Aeleus's face until convinced that the worst had subsided. “Dilan and I found you unconscious outside in the old fountain court. I wanted some input on a problem, but my call went to your voicemail, and when I came out front to find you Dilan said that you'd went on a patrol around the upper gardens hours ago.” As much as he tried to keep his voice level, Aeleus could still pick up on the slight tremor, signaling the exasperation and worry bubbling beneath the surface. “You were slumped against the wall in the shade with your arms clutching your stomach, burning up like you were sitting in direct sunlight.” A frown cut across his lips then, deciding that hiding his displeasure wasn't warranted anymore.
Aeleus mirrored his frown. He remembered now; trying to shove aside the agonizing pain spiking in his side and knotting up his organs, he forced himself to remain at his station, and only realized his grave error upon successfully maneuvering the rubble and making it down the stairs to the dried up fountains. He knew his body was about to give, so he sought out a cool place to shelter from the beating sun and ride out his suffering. The plan was to hobble back to the gates eventually and decide from there whether it really was too much to handle for once—he never expected to outright pass out.
“Suffering in silence like this helps no-one,” Ienzo said sternly, voice raising an octave. “You should have told one of us, or taken an early break. What if you were hurt further? Do you believe it to be some kind of punishment to take a day off, or is it instead that you must stay on guard at every waking moment? Because willingly pushing your body to its limits and then falling apart from it isn't atonement, Aeleus.”
The words cut deep, almost as deep as the wound that felled him, but the ache it produced was of a different brand. It had been some time since he was last reprimanded like that, and though the firm expression and sharp tone invoked the familiar image of Zexion, the emotion behind it was decidedly that of hurt rather than mimicked anger. Aeleus averted his eyes.
Ienzo was right. He was also astonishingly hypocritical, given his self-appointed work schedule, but that wasn't here nor there. What mattered was that despite his best intentions, in his stubbornness, Aeleus had messed up.
As if sensing the guilt—not that it would've been hard, the way it was surely rolling off him—he heard Ienzo sigh audibly. Fingertips brushed against the bone of his jaw, the tap compelling him to return his gaze, blinking through the mist forming in his vision from a mix of fatigue and pain and self-frustration. While still clearly upset, both Ienzo's expression and his voice had lost its edge. “I'm angry because I want you to be healthy. But we can use this as a lesson to that end. Both of us know now where those limits lie when you're experiencing complications, assuming this is the first time you've over-exerted yourself in such a state. So when your scar begins to act up, for the sake of your ability to keep us safe in the long-term, I expect you to call out now.”
Aeleus's heart squeezed, and it took him a couple moments to fight through the tightening of his throat so he could reply with, “...I'm sorry.”
Ienzo smiled then, the worry lines of his brow softening out. “You're forgiven, so long as you don't make this a new habit.”
The fingers lingered on Aeleus's face, cool against his clammy skin. He fought the urge to lean in and seek the palm, convinced wholly and utterly that it would be soothing to the touch regardless of temperature. Before his fever-addled brain could conjure up the phantom feeling of the soft hand cupping his cheek, the muscles in his side and stomach spasmed again, and he grimaced. It was so sudden he almost missed Ienzo's offer.
“Are you able to try sitting up slowly again? The tea may help.”
Tea?
He glanced towards the bedside table, finally noticing the cup sitting in the center, wrapped in a foam cozy and covered with a white cap to keep it warm. The sight only made his chest clench harder. With a small nod he maneuvered his left arm against the bed, trying to not lament the loss of touch against both his face and his wrist as Ienzo pulled away to find a spare bookmark. He waited with grit teeth as Ienzo rummaged around the pile of books stacked on the floor beside his chair and huffed upon failing to find anything not already in use. Instead he snatched a pen from his lab coat pocket, set the butt of it inside towards the edge of the pages so as to not leave the cover jutting open, then closed the book carefully and set it with the rest. Once Aeleus's shoulder and back were supported, he carefully sat himself up against the pillows. The cloth slipped from his forehead and Ienzo caught it, turning the chair enough so he could lean around to the opposite end of the bedside table, out of view; from the gentle splashing and clinking of metal, Aeleus figured that there must be a bucket of ice water there to refresh the cloth when it grew too warm.
“It's a different blend, meant to relax the body. We had a couple bags leftover from the sample package the Committee gifted.” Ienzo explained as Aeleus set the lid aside and went to take a careful sip.
Sweeter than he was used to, smooth, almost delicate. He didn't dislike it. Another sip, the warmth spreading down through his throat and chest. The effect was instant the moment it hit his stomach, he could practically feel the knotted muscle unravelling and falling slack. While basking in the effects however, an aftertaste bloomed in his mouth, tangy and somewhat bitter, not overwhelmingly so, but starkly reminiscent of what would linger when drinking a Hi-Potion—
His eyes widened. Hi-Potion costs were outside the range of their meager budget, and the one and a half that remained within the castle were meant to be reserved only for emergencies.
Before he could even open his mouth, Ienzo had read him, as always, and cut him off. “Yes, I added two teaspoons of a Hi-Potion. It wasn't from our reserves, I bought a small quantity for my own purposes, and this, I would say, counts. Tea is nice for easing symptoms, but it alone won't heal wounds.”
Aeleus stared at Ienzo owlishly as the scientist squeezed excess water from the cloth. Then he stared into the tea, catching just the faintest tell-tale sparkles in the light. Last he was aware, Ienzo had barely enough funds on him to purchase lunch. Surely he didn't spend all he had on a small sample of Hi-Potion? He didn't seem at all bothered to use it on Aeleus either, rather than what he intentionally bought it for, almost as though this had been what it was for all along.
The idea, however true it may have been, made his heart flip. He took another, longer sip before he could dwell on whether it was out of gratitude, grief, or something else entirely.
“Oh, I never did explain what I was doing with your arm, did I?” Ienzo said abruptly, prompting Aeleus to look over, thoughts successfully stashed away for later questioning and curiosity re-piqued.
“You did not.”
“I was skimming through books for information on how to treat both muscle cramps and nausea, and came across acupressure.” He gestured, then set the cloth on the table when he realized that the movements were flicking water droplets about. “Initially I gave it a cursory glance and moved on, but came back to it after checking off the more obvious remedies.”
The books beside the chair. Aeleus's eyes dropped to try and parse their titles, some stacked too haphazardly to see the spines, but others were medical textbooks and basic care paperbacks, some he even recognized from a few days prior while they reshuffled the shelves in the library.
When Ienzo reached for his right arm, Aeleus let him take it. “Apparently, there's a point on the inner arm that, when massaged, helps relieve nausea and sickness induced by other, harsher forms of medical treatment. There are other points I was intending on trying too, but you woke up.” To demonstrate, he turned the arm over to expose the inside, then laid three fingers over the wrist and his thumb where it had been before, and pressed the thumb down. “About here. I...I'm not sure if I was doing it correctly. You didn't appear any more relieved than before I tried.”
An airy little laugh escaped Ienzo, and when he sheepishly looked back up, Aeleus felt like his ribcage was about to explode, warmth across his cheeks spreading anew, except it was wonderful and far from sickly this time. It was all so much, the little tiny gestures this man went out of his way for just in the mere hope that it would help ease his suffering.
He'd been so bullheaded with his duties, and Ienzo had already forgiven him for it.
Had he less control of himself in that moment, the glassiness in his eyes would've actually broken and spilled. Instead he inhaled slowly and held back, too choked up to even force the words out that it helped, it truly did. He let Ienzo set his arm onto the sheet and take the cup from him, let him ease Aeleus onto his back and reapply the much colder cloth, let him brush damp thumbs across his cheek as he could only stare back up.
“Take it easy today, Aeleus. You deserve time to rest,” Ienzo murmured, and moved the thumbs to brush against Aeleus's eyelids, gently guiding them shut.