eggbowl | In my blood...

[the pet name almost goes over Dohalim's head; it's a language he's not familiar with. is it perhaps one that was lost to Renan rule? a shame... he would have to ask Zhongli about it when he's of sound mind to do so.

being pulled close and tucked into the deity provides a comfort that Dohalim hadn't realised he truly craved. it's warm, it's... safe. it feels safe, even with the constant threat of corruption nipping at him, threatening to pull him into the darkness again. maybe he really can let himself rest... even though the thought of doing so worries him. his mental constitutions are not the best right now, he'll admit this, so who's to say when he wakes, it'll be him who does so? what if he gets lost in that abyss, and he can't claw his way back out of it? thinking about it only makes Dohalim want to stay up even longer, as fear grips him. if it's not the nightmares, then it's these thoughts...

but no, Zhongli is here. he lifts an arm up to wrap around the other, his hand loosely clinging to the back of his shirt. he burrows into Zhongli's chest, forehead pressing against him as he breathes deeply]

Need nothing else... Just you. Only you.

[It's such a bad idea, really. Getting so... attached. Zhongli has always been so careful to keep a modicum of distance between himself and his charges... himself and everyone, really... but even before their contract, he had struggled with Dohalim. Without knowing why - he certainly didn't find an interest in previous Lords - he'd found himself returning to Elde Menancia time and again. Found himself keeping an eye on the young Lord, watching him grow. There's so much he should explain, but for his lofty vocabulary, he has no words.

But this... guiltily, he clings to this. Selfishly, he takes comfort in Dohalim's need for his presence, the way he clings to Zhongli and burrows in close.]

... then you shall have me. I won't leave you of my own will, Dohalim.

[closing his eyes, he nuzzles the top of Dohalim's head, stroking his hair in soothing motions. There really is so much he should say. Things he should make clear. But if he does... if he's wrong...]

[nodding, Dohalim only burrows in deeper, until he's curled up into as much of a ball as he can. warm and safe... even with the corruption in him, this is still safe. he wonders for a moment just how long that sense of safety will last, but it's quickly pushed aside, not wanting to taint this. so much is already tarnished, but that... he wants to keep that pure.

eyes flutter closed as loses the struggle to keep them open; the tension in his body starting to relax as he slowly slips into slumber. warm and safe, he just has to keep reminding himself of that. hopefully it'll be enough to keep the worst of the nightmares at bay.

though, his subconscious has a different idea; as soon as he falls asleep, he's plagued with them, this time of the silver lake under Viscint, with whispers reminding him that he's done this. he finds himself waist deep in the substance, hands emerging from under the surface, violently grabbing at him to pull him under. he fights, it, but they still cling to him; he begs and pleads for it to stop as he frantically apologies. but even then, as those hands reach higher, to grab his shoulders, to pull him down, does Dohalim succumb to it and plunges into the lake--

with a gasp, he wakes again, disoriented and confused, breathing heavy. he can feel a light sheen of sweat on his brow. the daze has him trying to gather himself again, to remind himself that he's here and not the corruption; though even that still clings to him and the nightmare.

as all of that weighs in his mind, there's one thing that Dohalim focuses on the most: is Zhongli still here...? he needs him. he needs him so desperately, right now]

[There's no resistance in that movement, Zhongli adjusting himself to envelop as much of Dohalim as he can. He rarely needs rest, so it's easy to stay here and watch over him too. Perhaps there's a short exchange with a servant, but nothing that should bring him away from Dohalim himself.

Which is a good thing, as it turns out. As the nightmares take hold, the deity remains there to give soothing gestures or hum a soft, relaxing song. He has no idea of any of it will help, but he tries. And by the time the Renan wakes, there's a soft furrow to his brow, hand coming to rest on his cheek.]

... I'm right here, Dohalim. Breathe slowly, it was just a nightmare.

[... it hurts, he's surprised to realise, not being able to really help. To just be here in a reactive sense. Still, with the sheen of sweat and the panic in Dohalim's body, Zhongli raises a hand to rest the back of it over his forehead, both to check his temperature and to offer a reminder that he is still here.]

[Dohalim wants to retort, say something about how this was not just a nightmare, that it felt real, that he could feel himself choking on the Hollowed people in that lake--

But he doesn't say anything of the sort, only making a soft sound at the unnatural coolness of Zhongli's hand on his forehead. Or, perhaps, is it him who feels warm? The dizzy exhaustion is still persistent; had he not slept long enough for it to dissipate? He usually doesn't get much sleep on the nights where his nightmares are the worst, and he's usually fine, but... maybe all of this is finally catching up with him.

The panic is still present, his heart thumping heavily in his chest. He tries to even out his breathing, but being pressed so close to Zhongli isn't helping much. Pushing himself away, he moves himself up onto his elbows. Eyes squeeze shut as he tries to calm himself down]

Dohalim.

[Zhongli doesn't stop the Renan from moving, simply shifting to sit up and place a hand on his thigh. he doesn't have the proclivity for healing artes that Dohalim does, but he offers some of his astral energy nonetheless, a soothing presence to hopefully help him relax even a little.]

Take your time. Focus on my voice. I'm right here, I won't go anywhere, and you are not alone.

[he'll need to catch one of the servants to bring him water and some hot broth, but that can wait.]

[focus... what little he already has trying to even out his breathing and pull himself away from the dregs of his nightmare is quickly waning, only making the situation worse. the hand on his thigh almost goes unnoticed, and Zhongli's voice amidst the rushing of blood in his ears nearly unheard. but as that astral energy seeps into him, it wraps around him like a comforting blanket. not nearly enough to completely push the panic away, but it does help in prying the claws of corruption away from him for the moment.

pushing himself up to sit, Dohalim hunches over, pressing his hands to his face as he tries to take a few deep breaths in. it's a struggle, to calm himself, and the dizziness really doesn't help. he's more aware of how warm he feels, now, how... sickly he feels. weak, hot, but cold at the same time. he detests the feeling, irritated with himself that he'd succumbed to this illness. he casts a small healing arte to try to alleviate the symptoms, but to no avail. a small sound slips from his lips as he tries again; it doesn't do much except make him feel even weaker for using what little energy he has at the moment]

Zhongli...

[it's all he can muster out before he tips, leaning heavily against the other. perhaps trying to use his artes while he's sick may not be the best idea... it seems he'll have to try to get over this the old fashioned way]

Don't risk further exhaustion, Dohalim...

[he's right there, at least, shifting to give the redhead a better place to lean. fingers brush his hair back, and he exhales a soft sigh.]

Of all the times to be reminded that plants were never my forte... you've a considerable fever, and you're obviously not feeling well. Rest on me for a time, and when you've managed to doze off, I will call a servant to bring something for this.

[maybe it would be less painful, honestly, if he just went with I told you so. instead, he's blatantly concerned, wiping away sweat without a second thought.]

[Dohalim shakes his head slightly, making another small sound. the idea of sleeping again only sends another pang of panic through him, but as he's too tired and weak,, Dohalim doesn't move to push himself up again, or deny that he's sick]

No sleep... I...

[he knows the nightmares will come back, he knows there's no escaping them. ever since those events, his nightmares have truly gotten so bad, that he finds himself waking up like this in the middle of the night. but it's not that he doesn't realise this is sustainable, either. he knows he should sleep, but... it's the anxiety of living out the same nightmare over and over again that compels him to want to stay up]

If you... Have something I can use to write...

[even talking is exhausting. but if he can manage to write, he can jot down some medicinal herbs found outside of the city]

[for a long moment, Zhongli is quiet, considering. there's a lot to do, more still to take care of, but until Dohalim can get some actual rest, he doesn't dare part for long.]

Alright. I won't push you toward it. But in turn... can you be a little patient for me?

[he doesn't explain immediately, stepping off to find the pen and pad he keeps with his clothes, settling down next to the Renan once more.]

If you think you can give me a little time, there is an herbal blend that I can concoct to help you rest. It will ensure, at least, that your dreams aren't nightmares.

[in actuality, it has more to do with Zhongli's presence affecting the dreamscape, but that's a lot of explaining he doesn't want to waste Dohalim's limited energy on. it'll still do effectively what he'd said, anyway.]

[Dohalim doesn't say anything for a moment, but he does nod. honestly, anything to stop the nightmares so he can, for once, get a decent night sleep, he'll wait as long as Zhongli needs. for all that the deity isn't well versed in plant life, the fact that he knows of a blend to help with the nightmares is impressive enough. he thought, himself, that he knew most medicinal blends for different ailments that Menancia has to offer, so he's curious to learn of this one.

picking up the pen, Dohalim quickly jots down different herbs to send someone out to fetch, some that can be found in the market, most that can be found in the wild. his writing is a lot messier than his usual pristine writing; it's rather difficult to hold the pen much less actually write, right now. but he manages to finish the list and slide it to Zhongli.

he's just so drowsy and dizzy, there's an ache in the back of his head and behind his eyes; the Renan brings a hand up to rub at his eyes as he leans back onto the other once more]

I... Would like to apologise...

[it's a small misunderstanding; plants aren't Zhongli's forte, but he's knowledgeable about them, for the most part. some are newer than his travels offer information on, but even so, it's true.

his gaze scans the paper, taking in the information before it's folded and tucked away. he's already planning out a route when weight leans back onto him.]

... Apologise? [Zhongli glances to Dohalim, reaching to brush his fingertips along a fever-warmed cheek. really...] What do you have to apologise for?

[leaning in, he presses his lips to the redhead's forehead, exhaling a soft hum.]

[Dohalim brings a hand up to gently touch the back of Zhongli's; it's weak, and shaky, indicative of how this illness is taking a toll on him. he lets out a soft sigh at the kiss to his forehead, his eyes fluttering closed. he does have to wonder if he'll be okay to let Zhongli at least fetch someone to get something to alleviate some of this, but with the nerves still frayed from moments before, and just not wanting to be without the other's presence, Dohalim doesn't say anything just yet to let him go.

but the least he could do is apologise for being so stubborn]

I should have... Taken your advice. Perhaps I did feel this coming on, but... I chose to ignore it... Chose to put everything else ahead of my own health.

[he drops his hand into his lap, unable to keep it up]

I should've... I should've given myself rest at the first sign of exhaustion. But... I suppose I feared falling asleep... That I would submerse myself into anything to stave off the need for it.

... You are, after all, endlessly stubborn. It's nothing to apologise for. Not really. If not now, it would catch up another time. You're forgiven, shǎguā. I'm sure you'll be more careful for me in future.

[as Dohalim's hand drops back into his lap, Zhongli shifts to urge him to lay back again.]

It's not unreasonable, either. I can only imagine, of course, but at least this is something I can help you with. If you can stay here a moment, I can flag someone down to bring you some water for now, at least.

[the rest, and leaving for that matter, can come later.]

[this time, Dohalim doesn't fight Zhongli as he's nudged back down into his bed; in fact he lets himself be guided down. more for the fact that he can barely keep himself up, and while he feels incredibly hot, he still feels just as cold as he burrows himself under the duvet. he curls himself up into a ball, clutching the blanket closer to him, trying to ignore the sweat forming on his brow again. he... yes, maybe water will help a little, he supposes, but to let Zhongli leave his side for even a moment...

Dohalim shivers slightly at the thought, but he nods, peeking up at the deity through his hair, and just over the edge of his duvet]

Water... Water would be good.

[he abhors how soft his voice sounds, right now. he doesn't like sounding this weak, but... he has no one to blame but himself. he put himself in this situation, so he'll just... have to deal with the consequences. it doesn't help that the illness is feeding that corruption as it takes advantage of his weakened mental constitution; his only saving grace is that he feels too weak to act on those urges]

Alright. I'll call for someone to bring some, then. Don't worry, I won't leave the room.

[for all the young man thinks himself somehow weak, Zhongli can't help but think it's some small measure of providence. At least this way, he can't just keep moving on like nothing is wrong, and maybe... maybe he can get a little space in Dohalim's mind.

The thought of losing him is remarkably unpleasant, really. He sets it aside as he rights himself, brushing the redhead's hair back one more time before turning to the entrance. It's not hard to catch the attention of one of the patrolling guards or servants, and he keeps one hand on the doorframe as if some kind of promise that he's not going any farther - not that he's more than just leaned out the door a bit.

There may be things to be done still, true, but his people love Dohalim. Zhongli suspects they'll be quick about it, bringing water and some towels, plus a bowl to wet them. The deity would hardly take that from them, given how little they can do on an everyday basis to show appreciation for their lord's kindness.]

[there's a chill that settles over Dohalim as Zhongli stands, the warm spot where he was just sitting rapidly cooling down. it seems like that chill settles into his bones as he lets out another shiver, before pulling the blankets even closer, if that's possible.

if Zhongli were to tell him about the love his citizens have for him, Dohalim would vehemently disagree; it's only been days since his rampage through the city and palace, and still, he can't imagine why those who have followed him continue to do so. if only they knew just how cursed he is, undeserving of their devotion... just like he's undeserving of Zhongli. he knows this. he tells himself this often. and yet... he yearns for him, wants him, needs him to stay by his side.

through half lidded, tired eyes, he watches Zhongli, as if to make sure he doesn't leave. just the very sight of him leaning out the doorway is enough to incite even more of that anxiety for that wretched corruption to twist. he reaches through their bond to try to push away those invasive thoughts, to cling onto the fact that Zhongli is still here]

[The response to Dohalim's mental reach is immediate. Zhongli returns it, wrapping the secure strength of his astral energy around the more fragile, sickness-laden energy of his companion. He doesn't mind it at all, and when he's finished his conversation with a decisive nod, he turns back to the lord himself.]

Someone will be by shortly. I've instructed them to bring a mild broth as well; it will be good to keep you fed so that this passes with less effort.

[lifting the covers, the deity slides into the bed and gently leans Dohalim against him.]

You must be feeling quite uncomfortable... I hope I can provide even a little relief for you.

[uncomfortable is a bit of an understatement, really. he feels miserable, both physically and mentally, and the gentle hold Zhongli has on their bond only provides the smallest of comforts. but as the deity pulls him close, Dohalim lets out a soft sigh, almost burrowing into the other; the chill is still there, but Zhongli's body heat does help just a little.

the thought of someone walking in on them like this worries him again; what would the court think of him, curled up into the side of someone like this? what rumours would spread like wildfire? would they think he's just galivanting around with Zhongli, so shortly after his rampage? would his citizens think he was ignoring them for his own selfish need?

he should push Zhongli away, tell him that it's fine to leave him alone. but it's not, it's not fine. he hasn't been fine for a long time, he thinks, and the fact that it's all come to a head so violently just reminds him of how fragile he really is. how emotional he really is. and for the corruption to cling to that, to toy with his emotions and his anxieties and drive him to do awful things... just why? why must it be like this, why must he continue to go on like this?

Dohalim curls up even more, as if to try to hide himself and his shame from Zhongli. he lets out another sigh, more shaky this time; an arm wraps around the other's waist, his hand clinging to his back. the deity's energy wrapped around their bond, at least, helps with the corruption trying to claw at it]

[Zhongli watches just out of the corner of his eye, guessing at some of the things floating through the Renan's mind at least. In the wake of them, he just continues to be there, firm and unafraid, stroking the man's hair in an idle rhythm.

There are always risks, of course. Always those who would misunderstand what's going on, but the chances of them being one to arrive are slim. So he thinks, anyway. Water and broth send a particular message, after all, and it's anything but neglecting his citizens.

Still, even if he knew the exact train of Dohalim's thoughts, there's not much he could say. Instead he's just there, warm hands around the redhead's torso, weight comfortably leaned against the bed frame. And with nothing else... he hums. It's a soft and soothing tune, even if it's not something Dohalim will have heard before. Not quite Dahnan - not modern anyway - and sweetly lilting. He hasn't relied on this tune in a long time, but it's one that can help soothe even rampaging beasts. Certainly something.]

[it's not a tune Dohalim is familiar with, but then again, he hadn't heard much in the field of Dahnan music. yet another thing erased from Dahnan culture by his own people. though, as he listens to it, he can feel himself relaxing; is it because music had always had that effect on him, or is it the song itself? whatever it may be, he can feel himself uncurling ever so slightly, and the tense muscles in his shoulders sagging.

if Zhongli were to pay attention, he can probably feel light tapping against his back from Dohalim's fingers, as if following his tune, as if playing it out on an invisible fret. it's a habit of his he just can't seem to shake, it seems, despite not even touching his violin for years, even to go as far as encasing it to be put on display.

but the tune does soothe him, and helps push away the darkness. not enough to put him to sleep just yet, but at least he's just a little relaxed.

minutes go by before a couple of servants come by again, , one holding towels and a bowl of water, and one with a pitcher of water, a glass and some broth. the both of them glance at the two men in Dohalim's bed, but make the wise decision on not commenting on them. instead, they set everything up by the bedside table, before hastily making their way out of the room to give them some privacy.

from the moment Dohalim hears them both walk in, the tension in his shoulders return, as if expecting them to say something, to make some sort of off handed comment on his choices, just anything about the current situation he finds himself in with Zhongli. and even though no such comment comes, he still can't shake the nervousness of it all. even his fingers have stopped their tapping, as they cling to the deity's back again]

[Zhongli's humming comes to an end when the servants arrive, as he turns to thanking them for bringing what he'd requested. Under the blanket, the gentle stroking over Dohalim's skin continues, and he shows no such hesitation when facing the possibility of comment. For him, even, it's probably obvious that they're glad someone is taking care of him...]

Will you try to have some broth, Dohalim?

[It's a request, but even before he has an answer he'll be urging the man up. At the very least, he'd like to have him drink some water.]

Edited 2022-10-01 15:25 (UTC)

[all Dohalim has time for before he's moved is a small sound of protest that slips from his lips, before heavily leaning on Zhongli, head tilting to rest on his shoulder. with this sudden fever and illness hitting him, he's not particularly hungry, but he really should eat something... he just has to wonder if he has enough strength to feed himself. he can't expect the other to feed him like an infant, after all]

Just... A little.

[hopefully enough to show Zhongli the effort he's putting into. his body is just so tired, but with his mind's refusal to sleep for the moment, this is the most he can do, for the time being.

groaning softly, he reaches up to press his face against his hand, half to wipe the sheen of sweat from his brow, and half to provide some sort of comfort to his flushed face. his hand does feel a little cooler, which helps a minuscule amount, but at least it's something]

Just a little.

[an agreement and an acquiescence, as Dohalim leans on him. Zhongli shifts with great care, lifting the bowl of broth to bring it close. There's no push to rush him, no chance of leaning on the indignity of being spoonfed before he's been given a chance to even try; just the quiet, patient gaze of someone who has no doubt been through this time and again.

When Dohalim's finished providing himself a little relief from the heat, Zhongli brushes his hair back.]

Slowly, now.

[Dohalim leans into Zhongli's touch, sighing softly at the much cooler touch against his skin, before turning his attention to the broth. the fragrance is that of a signature consummé the palace chef makes him from time to time; even if he wasn't ill, Dohalim would appreciate it as part of a meal all on its own. it would be a tragedy if it were to go to waste, so he does hope he can eat most of it before he has to stop.

it's a slow process, but he's just glad he can actually lift the spoon to his lips and sip the broth, letting the warmth spread through him despite his fever and prickling sweat on his brow and back of his neck. what an inconvenience... Dohalim really is beating himself up about this entire thing, wondering why he was so stubborn as to not heed Zhongli's warnings of pushing himself. well, not really wondering; Dohalim is aware of just how stubborn he can be, but he'd been able to push himself further in the past, and he'd been fine. perhaps it really is the physical and mental exhaustion of the past few days that's really caught up, and coupled with the corruption in him, is it really a surprise?

he just really feels ashamed that he's succumbed to this so easily and swiftly. he'd been completely fine earlier in the day, so for this illness to peak so suddenly... Dohalim just hopes he'll get better just as quickly.

he manages to finish most of the broth before he rests the spoon inside of the bowl, letting out a soft sigh. by now, he's leaning heavily against Zhongli again; it's a miracle that Dohalim hadn't spilled any of the consummé on him with how awkward the angle is]

I think I'm done...

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