Work Text:
Neuvillette lay in bed, his messy silver hair damp and clinging to his forehead on this drizzly morning, his cheeks flushed with the telltale heat of a fever…
The Iudex of Fontaine, usually so impenetrable, looked uncharacteristically small, his violet eyes half-lidded as he let out a soft, pitiful groan. The room was dim, curtains drawn to soothe his sensitivity to the sun, and the air carried the faint scent of lavender from a diffuser a certain someone had insisted on setting up.
“Furina…” Neuvillette’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, as he reached out a shaky hand toward the figure bustling at his bedside.
Furina, clad in a frilly apron she’d donned for the occasion, spun around with a dramatic flourish, nearly knocking over a tray of supplies. “It’s alright, my dearest dragon. Your Hydro Archon—well, former Hydro Archon…” A slip of the tongue, even though it’s been months. “…is here!” Her voice was bright, but her heterochromatic eyes softened with concern as she took in his flushed face. She perched on the edge of the bed, pressing a cool, damp cloth to his forehead. “You’re burning up, Neuvillette. Honestly, how does a Dragon Sovereign even catch a fever?”
He managed a weak chuckle, though it dissolved into a cough. “Even dragons… are not immune to the whims of nature.”
“Hmm, I suppose...” Furina adjusted the cloth, her fingers brushing gently against his skin. She reached for a glass on the nightstand, filled with sparkling, pristine water sourced from Fontaine’s finest springs with a sprig of mint— her Neuvillette’s favorite. “Drink a bit more. I went to three different vendors to get this fancy water, you know. Only the best for my Iudex.”
And Neuvillette’s lips curved into a faint smile as he took the glass, his hands unsteady. So she steadied it for him, guiding it to his lips with a caremark theatrics set aside for now. He sipped slowly, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat... “You went to such lengths?” He murmured, gentle wonder and gratitude lacing his words.
“Of course I did!” Furina puffed out her chest, though her cheeks were pink. “I know how picky you are about your water. If I brought you anything less, you’d probably lecture the room on the nuances of mineral composition, fever or no fever.”
He chuckled again, softer this time, and set the glass down with her help. Then, with a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he reached for her, his arms wrapping around her waist. “Stay… please,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with that rare, breathy growl.
The fever had stripped away his usual restraint, leaving only the clingy dragon beneath...
Furina’s heart fluttered, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she slid onto the bed beside him, letting him nestle against her. His head rested on her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her neck as he sighed in her vanilla scent. “You’re such a big baby when you’re sick,” she teased, running her fingers through his hair. “A sweet, cuddly dragon. Who would’ve thought?”
“Only with you,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her. His arms tightened slightly, as if afraid she’d slip away. “It’s… safe with you.”
Furina’s teasing smile softened into something tender, cooing as he begin a soft, gravely purr. She adjusted the blankets around him, ensuring he was snug, and pressed a gentle kiss to his fever-warmed forehead. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. But you have to promise to drink more water and take your medicine, okay? No stubbornness!”
He nodded faintly, his fins limp against the pillow, already half-asleep in her embrace. “Anything for you, Furina.”
She stayed there, holding him as his breathing evened out, the fever’s grip loosening under her care until the rain outside grew silent. She hummed a delicate tune, one of Fontaine’s old lullabies from a play long ago, and glanced at the tray she’d prepared: more water, a bowl of cooling soup, and a small vial of medicine. She’d make sure he took every dose, drank every glass, and rested until he was back to his dignified self.
For now, though, she was content to be his anchor, his comfort, his home. “Get better soon, my dragon,” she whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “I need you to keep Fontaine’s skies clear… and to keep me company, too.”
Neuvillette’s only response was a little relaxed sigh, his fevered warmth mingling with her steady presence as they drifted into a quiet, healing peace.