eggbowl | In my blood...

[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...

[for his part, Zhongli at least attempts not to hover too much. Dohalim can feed himself, clearly, and he no doubt held humiliated enough for getting to this space, he thinks...

So, he settles there to watch, only ensuring the bowl isn't tipped and nothing is spilled in turn. When Dohalim speaks, there's a small smile given. Plucking up a towel, he leans in to gently wipe away any sweat from his visible skin.]

Alright. You should lie down, then; is there someone you trust to be able to find herbs with a description and drawing? That would mean I could watch over you... else I should take a few minutes to find them myself.

[a dreamer's concoction... how long has it been? Too long, even if he's confident in being able to handle all of this.]

[Dohalim does consider his options; on one hand, if he were to send someone else out, it may take a longer time to gather ingredients for medicine, but on the other hand, being separated from Zhongli for any extended period of time violently pulls on his anxiety. they are connected through their bond still, maybe it'll be enough.

both choices are hard to choose from. Dohalim lets out a soft sigh as he gently moves the bowl towards the deity so he could lie back down again]

If... If you promise to come back quickly...

[Dohalim isn't sure if this is the right choice, to let Zhongli go, but he's too tired to continue to weigh out the pros and cons of making these decisions]

As quickly as I can. If things haven't changed too much, they won't be hard to find.

[taking the bowl to set aside, Zhongli shifts to ensure the lord is covered with his blankets. Fingers brush through his hair in gentle, fond motions before he leans down to press a kiss to the younger man's forehead.]

I'll respond to any tug at our bond, even when I've left the city.

[The base of it is already available amid the castle's herbs and spices - is really just the catalyst he needs to collect personally. Not more than a half hour's work, he thinks, as long as the plants are as plentiful as he recalls. And when he's back, Zhongli will settle in next to Dohalim to prepare it, not wanting to keep him isolated any longer than absolutely necessary.]

[it's the longest half an hour of his life. as soon as Zhongli leaves, Dohalim can feel a chill settle over him; is it because of his fever? or is it the darkness threatening to swallow him whole, now that the deity isn't with him? he doesn't know. it's hard to ignore, as it nips at him, as those whispers ring loudly in his ears, telling him intrusive thoughts. he weakly tugs at his and Zhongli's bond, desperate to remind himself that he's still with him even though they're apart physically.

a mirror in the corner of the room catches his gaze as he stares at his sickly reflection, his face half hidden under the covers as he curls up on his side. it only brings more shame that he allowed himself to fall to illness like this; he could get up and smash it--

when Zhongli does return to his side, Dohalim is quick to reach up and grasp at any part of him. his breathing is haggard by the time the deity comes back, as Dohalim fights the fever and the corruption. sweat beads his brow, his hair sticking to his forehead, and he feels hot again, but it doesn't stop him from curling up into Zhongli's side]

[every weak tug is responded to immediately with a warmth, wrapping around their connection and offering a sturdy base for him to bury himself in - metaphorically, of course. he's quick to gather everything, and quick to give the instructions to a servant to prepare. it'll need to be lit at the right time, but the incense is easy enough to make, at least.

moreover, he doesn't want to leave Dohalim for too long. it already feels like it's been too long by the time he returns and the Renan is grasping for him; cool hands move to position him in Zhongli's lap, letting him settle as he likes. after that, he reaches for the bowl of water and towels to help clean up the mess, murmuring a soft apology for leaving him.]

Someone will bring what we need soon. Do you think you can have some more water while we wait?

[he's nannying the other, he knows. he can't help it, really.]

[the coolness of Zhongli's touch, and the damp cloth only gets Dohalim to lean into it, sighing softly that the deity is back with him. how pathetic... that he can't be separated from him for even a short period of time before he grows erratically desperate for his presence.

water sounds like a good idea, but he isn't sure if he can muster enough strength to drink any of it. he's just so tired and sick, hot and cold at the same time. Dohalim just wants to sleep, but he can't even allow himself that rest, not yet. not until he can get that assurance that he'll be without nightmares for the rest of the night.

but even still...

Dohalim shakes his head slightly, as he presses himself more against Zhongli. despite how warm he is, he just needs that comfort, those cool hands, his presence]

'M tired...

[he almost sounds like a child, which only brings about more shame. whining like this when he has no one to blame but himself for putting himself in this position. Zhongli had even warned him, told him not to push himself, and yet, he still did. but... the fact that Zhongli is here, taking care of him...]

[The protesting brings a small smile to Zhongli's face, his fingers threading through Dohalim's hair. It's not really a big deal to him, after all - protecting him, caring for him, it all comes surprisingly naturally to the deity.]

Just a little longer and you can rest easy. Here... try to drink for me. It's alright if it's too much, but it still help if you can.

[He'll hold the water for Dohalim this time, tilting it just enough to bring a little to the man's lips. It won't be long before the servant gets back, he thinks, and then Dohalim can finally rest.]

[Dohalim scrunches his nose at the thought of needing someone's help to hold up a cup for him to drink out of. but it's too enticing as he sips from it, warm body relishing at the cool liquid trickling down his throat as he drinks. it's only a few short sips before he reaches up to gently nudge Zhongli's hand away. resting his head on the deity's shoulder, he lets his eyes slip half closed, struggling to keep them open all the way.

the servant comes soon after, with everything needed in tow. he gives Dohalim a sympathetic glance, as he lays everything out for Zhongli, before swiftly taking his leave. he wants his lord to rest and overcome this illness quickly, after all, and rest won't come if he's there.

before the servant leaves, Dohalim glances up at him; too weak to say much, he offers a warm smile and a slight nod, before tucking his face into Zhongli's neck. the fear of being seen in a compromising position still tugs at him, but he's so exhausted that he doesn't care much of what he looks like, at the moment]

[Zhongli gives an apologetic smile in turn; if he's this weak, it's just how it has to be. After a few sips he sets the cup aside and shifts to let Dohalim settle in, tracing idle circles at the small of his back.

When the servant arrives and leaves the prepared ingredients, Zhongli offers a small smile and a murmur of thanks. His soothing gestures are still largely hidden by their positions, and of course this man would never say anything about their state... but Zhongli would understand the hesitation.]

You'll like the scent of this, I hope. It's not too sweet, and should be relaxing.

[thankfully, he can handle the rest of the work one-handed. Deft fingers set the powdered incense in a small burner, lighting it without hesitation. The scent is indeed relaxing, a mix of soothing herbs with something slightly sweet and spicy. Zhongli takes in a slow breath of it exhaling in a soft sigh.]

[as soon as the incense is lit and the aroma permeates the air, Dohalim takes a deep breath in, letting the calm scent wash over him. it's pleasant, sure, but he fails to see how this will help with the nightmares. it's calming enough to put him to sleep, but is that enough?]

This... Will help...?

[there's an apprehension in his voice that's wary that this will work. it's not that Dohalim doesn't believe in the medicinal powers of some herbs; with his command of both the earth and plants that grow upon it, he'd be a fool not to, but he's so sure he's tried most everything to stop the nightmares, short of taking narcotics. even alcohol has lost its effect on his dreams. that, in and of itself should be alarming already]

What if it doesn't...

[a very real fear. if this doesn't work, then what will? he'd hoped that Zhongli's presence, it would help with the horrid dreams, but that didn't work, so if this doesn't, either, then... what more could they do? he can't keep this up; even if he wasn't sick, he's just still so tired...]

[Zhongli fixes him with an almost bemused look, just the faintest bit exasperated.]

Do you not trust me, Dohalim?

[he knows that isn't why the Renan is worried, and he's quick to return to those soothing motions and touches again. how to explain...]

It will work. You have my word on that matter. If something more is needed thereafter, then we shall work with that when it arises... but this much, I can promise.

It will allow me to remove anything that may have latched on to your astral energy in your exhaustion and pain, and allow you a comfortable night's rest.

[he can't just erase the nightmares, based on events as they are, but he can stop anything from preying upon them and bringing them forth. corruption wants for strength, so he suspects it isn't the core of this mess... though if it is, then he can at least stem its tide directly, for a time.]

[Dohalim lets out a soft sound, shifting in Zhongli's lap to loosely wrap an arm around his waist. he shouldn't have said that; of course he trusts Zhongli. he wouldn't be here in bed with him if he didn't. there's a small part of him that tells him that, perhaps he shouldn't put so much trust in someone again so soon after the insurrection against him, but... he'd been here with him ever since. despite what the corruption wants to tell him Zhongli... hasn't really left. even through their bond, he stays]

...Apologies. Of course I trust you...

[there's a hint of remorse in doubting him, but Zhongli doesn't sound angry. Dohalim listens to his words, the idea of whatever it is that the deity can do soothing him. he hopes this will help, and he hopes that they don't have to resort to other measures for him to get peaceful rest]

Just let yourself rest, then.

[fingers draw softly through the young man's hair, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to the top of his head.]

I shall be with you, even in your deepest rest. I've no intention of letting you continue to suffer where I can assist.

[it doesn't explain that much, but he doesn't really have the words for how to explain it either. without showing him the way he can share in dreams... this is really all there is. hopefully his presence will help the other drift off sooner than later, so that he can find and gently enter his subconscious.]

[there's still doubt in his mind that this won't work, that he'll wake up soon after falling asleep, with the dregs of his nightmares following him in wakefulness. it's happened time and time again that this is all he knows, this is all he believes. so for someone to say that they can stop the nightmares, that they can offer him a restful sleep... it almost sounds too good to be true.

and yet, Dohalim wants to believe it. he wants to have that restful sleep. he's so tired... with how swiftly this illness had fallen on him, he's sure that if he continues on this path, he won't last for much longer.

Zhongli's words almost go unheard, as the hand in his hair slowly coaxes him to sleep. he can't stay up anymore, he just can't. eyelids are heavy as they flutter closed; with the touches, the warmth and the incense filling his room, sleep comes to him once more.

and he's back in the grotto, ankle deep in the silvery substance, eyes staring out at the lake. he's still, like a statue, even though he can feel the compelling pull of walking deeper into it]

[once his body slumps to the gentle slack of sleep, Zhongli exhales a soft sigh. his astral energy is so twisted up, even before he's found that connection to delve deeper into it. how much can he help with this? his abilities aren't what they were... but it should be enough.

it should be enough, especially with Dohalim's draw to him. as he steps through the veil of sleep into the realm of dreams, he can feel his body change, tail flicking behind him with each step. his hair is longer, too, a form he hasn't taken for so long... but it's that form that he needs to show the Renan anyway. the gentle proof that he is not of mankind, robed in white and adorned with lines of gold over swaths of black skin and scale.

regret, he thinks, lords over this place. it blankets the realm in a hazy whisper, one the deity dispels around him with every step.]

You seem lost in thought, Lord Dohalim.

[even his voice is different, resonant and rippling in the space; though there's also a good chance Dohalim won't really register it as strange at all. it's powerful and commanding, and as his hand sweeps across the scenery, it begins to shimmer and shift. rippling silver recedes, rises into the air in small motes that dissipate after a moment, until what lies beneath the Renan's feet is nothing more than fresh grass. silence, forcible and insistent, is unwound into the soft sound of a faraway bustling, not unlike Viscint itself on a particularly average day. everything is a slow process, from the way the veritable wellspring of tragedy and regret is turned and returned to the 'realm' to the way it all seems to become a warm, welcoming feeling.

dreams, after all, are simply intent, and the two were intertwined even before the admixture of herbs and spices meant to give him fuller control here. sadness may exist, and he certainly cannot pretend to cure it in the real world, but here... here it is so distant as to be unimaginable, suddenly. the pull of it toward depths unknown, toward some unspoken and ill-considered attempt at recompense.

more still... the deity's arm movement wasn't to simply break the pall of those feelings. it's a hand, delicate and gentle, extended as an invitation, with a picnic basket cradled in his other arm. this is not the Elde Menancia Dohalim knows in the real world, nor does it allow even the slightest interruption from his own fears, doubts, and regrets. at least here, he can offer the man a little more self-assurance.]

Shall we have a walk? I've prepared a small basket for lunch. I'm sure you've been overworking yourself again, after all.

[Zhongli's voice pulls a gentle shiver from Dohalim, affected more by its powerful baritone breaking through deafening silence than anything. it sounds like the earth itself, ancient but not at the same time. he dwells on it for a moment, before the silver liquid recedes from his feet, rises to the air and dissipates into nothingness. none of this is odd to him, but he does watch with a curious gaze, shoulders relaxing at the lack of pulling him deeper and heaviness in his heart; he lets out a soft breath]

Mm... There is always much to think about.

[he looks back down onto the ground, the lush grass thriving under his bare feet. it feels... nice. refreshing, but warm. he feels a connection to the earth itself, and its unwavering pulse; there's a particular vein of it that leads to Zhongli himself. as Dohalim brings his attention to him, eyes flick to the tail behind the man; he ponders on it for a moment, before smiling softly and taking his hand gently into his. Zhongli is a familiar presence, one that Dohalim can't deny]

But I suppose a break from thinking and working may be in order. A walk and lunch do sound rather appealing, right now.

[and he would like to explore this space, now that he has more access to it. now that he doesn't have a lake to cross]

It's rather beautiful in here, don't you think? The sun's rays illuminate the space just right, and everything looks so verdant.

Indeed, the needs of a country are ever evolving, after all.

[Zhongli inclines his head, just the same as always, and pulls Dohalim a little closer. It's presumptuous, assuming the Renan would have any interest in him, but... they're connected, after all. That fact is clear, a thrum of astral energy shared between them.]

Ah, good. Here I was afraid I would have to drag you with me ere the people start to worry. Why don't you lead? I'm quite content to see what unfolds at the end of the walk.

[His hand gently squeezes the Renan's then, exhaling a hum.]

Yes, you're quite correct. It always is, even if it grows a little unruly from time to time. We can only perceive so much of how the seeds we plant for the future grow, no?

[from here, he's content to leave it to Dohalim's mind to populate the space. Verdant greens and the tranquility of earth are easy, but what accomplishments have been suffocating under heavy emotions he wouldn't presume to know, let alone guide.]

You are correct. However...

[Dohalim tilts his head down, eyes trained on the ground for a moment a perfect red rose grows at his feet; without letting go of Zhongli's hand, he kneels down to pluck it, and stands as he examines it. there isn't a single blemish, and the hue is a deep red, the short stem thornless. he brings it up to smell it, humming softly]

We can always nurture it into what we can only hope is the right direction. And with how much Elde Menancia is thriving... I suppose I could say that there's at least something I'm doing right.

[reaching up, he tucks the rose stem behind Zhongli's ear, letting his fingers brush against soft onyx hair. Dohalim's words are that of a confidence he doesn't show in reality, but it's gentle and soft spoken and there.

he leads Zhongli deeper into the grotto, stretches of vibrant plant life seemingly growing from the ground around them as they pass. perhaps... perhaps this is his accomplishment, letting the earth thrive, letting the natural resources of the land live rather than be used for selfish purposes. he'd spent so much of his time and energy to bring Menancia to its current glory, for both Renans and Dahnans to enjoy.

in the distance seems to be a giant willow tree, its branches creating a veil yet letting just the right amount of light through. the grass around it seems kempt, the perfect place for a picnic]

Shall we settle down over there? I've felt hungry ever since you've mentioned lunch.

Edited 2022-11-15 16:39 (UTC)

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