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He could smell the sickness in her, rotting, dangerous. She moaned, unable to sleep in the tossing belly of the ship, and though his hairs stood on edge he lay beside her. She was covered in sweat, pale skin shining, highlighting the darkened veins in her face. Her eyes were covered, oozing a thick purple liquid. She moaned again, and he huffed. He was beside her. He would protect her. Her hand, heavy, shaking, found the taut muscle of his shoulder, fingers stroking weakly.
"Thank you," she whispered, and he could only cock his head to the side in confusion. Why was she thanking him? Was this not his duty? Protect his family, that is what he'd been raised for. It was all he knew. But he could hear the love in her voice, and he leaned over to kiss her cheek gently. She laughed, though it sounded more like a sigh, and then coughed. She was coughing up the sickness, wet and rancid and nearly as black as smoke. Her mother came to her side, wet towels in hand. Carver hung back, watching the other passengers with careful eyes. Only once had someone insisted she be thrown overboard. They wouldn't allow that. He wouldn't allow that. The first to touch her was still bleeding where he'd struck them. The Hawkes were left to themselves after that. Love them. Protect them. It was his duty.
Leandra had gently turned her daughter onto her side, stroking her hair and pressing the wet towels to her face and neck. She spat weakly into the second rag her mother had pressed to her lips, and her hand reached out again. For him. And he took it, feeling the tension in her hand and arm slowly fade.
"Try to sleep, darling." Leandra said as he settled himself beside her, sharing his warmth. Her body was hot, the fever never wasting its time to set in, but she was shivering as he moved closer. "We'll be in Kirkwall before you know it." Leandra looked as if she wanted to smile, but her chin was trembling. She reached over and patted his head once, twice, and then she scratched just behind his ears. "Watch her for us, Littlest." she whispered. He huffed again, softly, and she and her son left to clean her rags of the sickness. Littlest Hawke kept watch over his mistress as she slept. Love her. Protect her.