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Venom

Summary:

When Morven gets bitten by a venomous snake, Willowfine nurses her through her fever.

Notes:

Prompt: 5. Bedside Vigil
Also written for day one of June of Doom 2026, using the alternate prompt: Bite

Written as a pre-relationship situation, but could also easily be read as platonic.

Work Text:

“F-Fucking snake,” Morven muttered for perhaps the tenth time, her voice quivering as she trembled head-to-toe with violent muscle cramps and shivers from the high fever that had overcome her.  She was barely conscious, and Willowfine was still amazed that Morven hadn’t passed out. All Morven could do was curl up on her side, a poultice strapped to the red, angry bite marks on her ankle to reduce the swelling and numb the pain as much as possible.

She hadn’t been pleased when Willowfine explained she couldn’t cure her without an antivenom, instead only able to nurse Morven through the reaction. At least it wasn’t fatal to humans, because it would have killed her by now if it was. It was just a case of waiting for her body to get the venom out of her system. But that didn’t mean Morven was having a good time.

However, Willowfine wasn’t going to let Morven suffer through this alone. She’d been beside Morven’s bedroll for four hours by now, checking her over, offering water and a herbal concoction that might help the cramps, changing her poultice, or otherwise just keeping her company. And for all she complained about the team and wanting to be alone normally, Morven hadn’t once told her to piss off, letting Willowfine stay here.

But Morven jerked away when Willowfine pressed a damp cloth against her flushed, sweaty forehead, sucking in a sharp breath between chattering teeth. Given her high fever, it must have felt like ice against her skin.

“Get off me!” she snapped, but it was hard to sound threatening when she trembled so much. And despite her protests, Morven didn’t fire any magic at Willowfine, either unable to because of the venom, or deep down, aware that Willowfine wasn’t trying to hurt her.

(Willowfine very much hoped it was the latter.)

“I need to get your fever down. Please stay still, Morven,” Willowfine said, skilled at keeping calm even when her patients got upset or aggressive. Agrimonia had once praised her bedside manner, and Willowfine had originally brushed the compliment off. But when Morven Hellwain of all people stopped fighting and just let Willowfine hold the cold compress to her skin, she wondered if Agrimonia had been right.

“Fine…” Morven muttered, but she didn’t sound too grumpy. A sigh escaped her, soothed by the cool cloth.

Willowfine smiled, glad Morven was accepting her help.