jeminirising

[jeminirising]

fragments of a hazy morning on the sea

On a hazy morning in the town up north, embraced by wind and fog, an unwell lord and his wife share a tender moment. ☆ OCs: August, Ceridwen ★ CW: Vomiting/Emeto, Sickfic, Mentions of Overwork/Magic Usage ☆ Word Count: 709 ↓ read under the cut ! ↓

The Haaywyn fog this morning is thick. It curls in tendrils around the trembling limbs of dense forest; inevitably, rain looms on the horizon, dark and threatening. But life carries on.  Beneath the top floor of the central building, the town sounds lively as always. The market is bustling with activity, the waves are lapping the pier, and the birds persist in carrying a tune throughout the winds. Haaywyn is a town founded upon resilience and perseverance; no threat of bad weather, no thick, swirling mists, no chill nor heat has ever served to dismantle the thriving sense of community. Any other day, it would be comforting. Inspiring, even. Unfortunately, it is all far less charming when coupled with–and subsequently drowned out by–the sound of retching. “August, love. You need to breathe.” 

August barrels forward with another heave, doubling fully in half as he spits into the metal pail between his ankles. He spits. Sucks in a ragged, shaky attempt at a breath, and exhales it as a long, sick belch. He swears under his breath. Mumbles something akin to an apology. And then August is throwing up again, and Ceridwen can’t do anything but card her fingers through his ginger hair and hush him, other hand steadily trailing up and down the curve of his spine. “Uuugh,” August groans, spitting a few more times. “I’m trying to breathe. S’not working very well.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of tears at his waterline. Ceridwen can’t help but feel her heart clench for her husband; he looks awful.

“Well, you’re talking now. That’s an improvement, isn’t it?”

August burps. “Mmn– ‘scuse me. Don’t jinx me. Please.”

Ceridwen sighs. “Oh, my love,” she hums, reaching down for the bucket. “Are we done with this for now?”

August deliberates. He takes a long breath. Breathes it out twice as long. And then he nods, sort of hesitant, so Ceridwen doesn’t move it too far; just far enough to get it out of the way and out of his sight. Still, it’s just close enough to give him the comfort to attempt to get some sleep again. 

Ceridwen lays back, wrapping an arm gently around August’s shoulders and pulling him to lay down with her. Slowly, cautiously, he leans down to join her, resting his head on her chest. He listens to the thrum of her heartbeat and closes his eyes–he really is exhausted. She runs the tips of her nails under his shirt and along the warm skin of his back, feeling him breathe. “Still not feeling any better?”

August buries his face in her collarbone, and his voice comes out muffled. “Hardly,” he huffs. Ceridwen feels his throat bob, hears a gurgling work up his chest and fizzle out somewhere along the way. She clicks her tongue, pressing a kiss against his hair, soft against her neck. 

“Well maybe you should’ve thought about this before you went and overworked yourself. You know your mana reserves are unpredictable since–” 

“I know,” August cuts her off, a little too quick to speak. He clears his throat, and softer, says, “I’m sorry. I know.” 

“I know you do,” Ceridwen reminds, sounding a little terse in turn. Still, she continues to rub his back. She kisses him again. “My smart, strong, beautiful husband. I know you know when to take a break. But I also know that you’ll never choose to.”

Outside, rain starts to fall. A light drizzle pitters against the panes of their window, cracked open just enough to let the cold air in. August ignores the way his breath catches in his throat, and instead, he listens to the wind in the way he has not listened to his body; he gives into the rhythmic fall of rain in the way he so seldom gives into his own needs. And he sinks into Ceridwen’s touch like a lifeline, letting her ground him, letting her keep him there. Again, she kisses his head. And she lingers. “I love you for it, anyway. I love you.” 

August lets go of  a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The throbbing ache in his skull has dulled now to a buzzing hum. In her arms, all becomes tolerable. “I love you, too.”  

[jeminirising]

hello tumblr .ᐟ i am a newbie to the oc sickfic community & just wanted to make a little post to say hi :] you can call me N ! i am 18+ and i use he/him pronouns. i have a little collection of characters and their own little universe & i am just gonna be posting my silly thoughts and works about them here, so feel free to join up for the ride! asks & dms are always open. i'll write: ☆ emeto ★ scat ☆ eructo ★ eprocto ☆ omo or snz upon request ★ general sickfic & bellyache stuff ☆ and probably just some general fun tidbits or scenes about my characters & their world ! i'll make posts and pages and such for my characters & all that in the coming days! ᡣ𐭩