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Elain had her arm leaned on the toilet lid, head drooping and body curled up. The towel she had hastily placed on the floor hardly helped the mess. Footsteps sounded in her bedroom, loud enough to be intentional, since everyone here was Fae. The following quiet signaled it was Azriel. A small feeling of relief bloomed in her, but it was all she could manage to feel besides the pain.
"Elain?" his voice called. She hadn't left the room in an alarming state, but she knew her smell still lingered, and she couldn't be seen.
A shadow poked out under her door. She blinked at it with weary eyes. Azriel knocked on the washroom door. She groaned in response.
He carefully pushed his way in, eyes going right to her. Pressed against the tub, hair hanging over her face as she leaned on the toilet.
"Elain, are you alright?"
She hardly felt like talking. Another wave of pain roiled through her, and she groaned before dropping her forehead to the toilet lid.
She felt strong arms wrap around her body, and lift her as if she weighed nothing.
"Are you sick? Did-" she heard him sniff as he both saw and smelled the blood beneath her. To Elain, it felt like an abnormal amount, but it was probably just enough to pass for 'miserable, but natural.'
"I'll get you to your bed. If that's okay." Her hair flipped away from her eyes, head tilting back as he gracefully moved them out of the bathroom. With the way she was laying and responding, she was probably being overdramatic, but Cauldron, she felt that bad.
He paused, shifted her into one strong arm like a baby and opened her towel closet. She leaned her head against his leather-covered shoulder. With a smooth whirl, he deposited a few cloth layers on her sofa and laid her down.
Her head fell back, and he quickly placed another pillow behind her neck. She moved her arms from their hanging position and covered her lower abdomen.
"Your cycle, right? I can get you a heated pad." He was already speaking to a shadow at the edge of the floor, assigning it to gather needed items.
His gloved hand brushed the hair back from her face. His skin was cool against hers. "Were you sick in there?"
"Felt like it," she grumbled hoarsely, making no effort to sit up. "But no. And I woke up to this." She weakly pointed her chin to her lap, and the blood staining her clothes.
In seconds, Az was holding a cup of water that she lifted and drank. He also had a warm rice sack that he gently placed on her abdomen, as if trying not to cause pain from the pressure. "Your back probably hurts too- sorry, we don't have many heated pads here, they're all at the House of Wind."
She knew from the look in his eyes that he was considering flying there from the River House. Shaking it off, perhaps because he knew she would need him, he asked instead, "Should I send for Madja? She isn't here, but I know she'll come."
"No need, this is normal," Elain replied, forcing resilience into her voice. The first and most recent time she'd gotten her cycle, she'd been recovering from the Cauldron's doing in the House. She'd rarely gotten out of bed anyway, had hardly cared enough to feel that pain.
But today, Gods, today was agony.
Azriel's eyes still seemed to read her pain. He looked worried and incredibly conscious of her state, but not fearful for anyone's life. At least there was that- she didn't wish to greatly alarm him.
"I'll get you something to eat. Can you stomach it? Have you had anything yet? Of course not...I'll be right back." He winnowed away into a shadow and came back not a minute later. Elain had shifted her legs up, all too aware of the towel she was bleeding onto.
He held out a simple snack bar, and another cup of water. Why he didn't just ask his shadows, she didn't know, and didn't care. She drank again and adjusted the heating pad, then munched on breakfast. She was feeling a little more cared for, and less nauseaus, but no less bloody. A glance down was all she needed to get his full attention.
"I'll get you a new nightgown."
Elain leaned up to help, but was hit by a harsh cramp. She felt like her uterus was a balloon being rapidly squeezed-
Her hand was in his. He was taking the squeeze of her fingers like it was next to nothing. She wondered if she was sweating.
She panted, then turned her head away, preferring to look at the wall instead of him as she asked. "The second drawer. Next to the bed." He padded over softly to retrieve a change of clothes.
____
Painted around Elain's drawer handles were all variety of flowers. The second drawer featured bluebells encircling the knob. Opening it, Azriel found a variety of pale nightgowns, thin and thick, strapped and sleeved. He knew it didn't matter what he brought her, but, wishing for her comfort, he chose a color that would mask the blood, with straps that might stop her from sweating any harder.
He set it next to Elain, still looking so weak and helpless, but starting to regain her color. He asked where she kept supplies, and set off to find linens in the servants' storage closet down the hall. Az supposed, with females' cycles only coming twice a year, that Elain hadn't experienced hers in the River House. It was a miracle she knew where to look- and that Azriel didn't have to spend time asking that could be spent at her side.
When he returned with a full package of supplies, (he knew how long the bleeding generally lasted, but how quickly would she go through them? Did he need to bring ten, or a hundred?) she was exactly where he'd left her.
"And- underwear," she told him. "First drawer."
He moved quickly to the dresser, located and opened the violet-painted drawer.
The first garments he saw were plain, white or pastel panties. He ignored the other side, with its camisoles and bralettes, and fished out the first thing he saw. Then closed the drawer as fast as possible.
He shut down the lingering image of it all quicker than he'd thought himself capable of. This task was more important.
He hesitated for a moment when she looked at him. "I can barely move," she said. So he would indeed need to remove her clothes himself.
Azriel swallowed and touched the short sleeve of her nightgown. Delicate, wilting, and slightly damp with sweat. "...May I?"
Elain nodded and closed her eyes. Too burdened by the whole of the experience to care about this small demand.
He pulled her arms through, lifted and replaced her heated pad, and pulled the gown out from under her till it came over her head.
He paused for just a second, holding the gown, which was stained in the front and back with bright red blood, then tossed it to a shadow. And he looked for just a moment at her near-naked body, as delicate and perfect as he imagined, but heavy with labored breathing and exhausted pain. He felt no unwanted emotions but that of relief, and overwhelming shock that she had allowed him to do such a thing. To change her clothes and expose herself, to trust him.
Halfway snapping out of it, he stepped forward and put the new nightgown on her, fumbling with the straps. Before he could pull it comfortably underneath her, he stopped.
"Your mate should be doing this." Perhaps he said it because he was about to take off and redress her underwear; an impropriety for someone like him to be executing. Perhaps it was because while holding the bloody nightgown, even though he knew it was simply from her cycle, and could slightly smell the other fluids and bodily substances among it, something like fear went through him. Or because he could almost feel the pain riding waves through Elain, his back and muscles clenching in an agony he told himself he could handle.
He was kneeling beside her by the sofa. She looked over and made eye contact with him, taking controlled breaths.
Perhaps it was because Azriel couldn't keep that irritating feeling at bay. How the sweat on her body, the loose straps of the rumpled nightgown, even the stinging scent of the blood dripping from between her legs paired with her exhausted face- it all bit into him with its own labored longing.
But she ground out, "My mate isn't here right now. You are, Azriel."
He had no words for what she sparked in him with her words. So he put one hand on her waist and one on her thigh to pull the garment off.
The knock barely finished before the bedroom door flew open. Madja rushed to Elain with an armful of supplies. She pulled vials of tonics out, five already lined up on a nearby table.
"I came as soon as you called," she said, dipping her chin to him before feeling Elain's forehead. "Can you rate your pain for me? When did it start? Have you had these before?"
Madja instructed Azriel to get her a warm wet cloth, then to prepare the clean underwear with liners. On his way to dampen the towel, Elain met his eyes above Madja's shoulder. Soft, brown, tired, but containing a message. They held surprise at the healer's arrival- when Elain had dismissed the summons. And along with it, gratitude, and a sort of gentle look he had not seen many make at him.
He gave her a soft smile in return.