eggbowl | In my blood...

[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)

[As Zhongli listens, he can get a small sense of what Dohalim might have been, setting aside all the things that have weighted him down. The deity now knows there are a plethora of other issues that bury all of the man's positive feelings, but unwrapping those here would be similarly impossible.

Besides, he's not equipped for that. Someone else, maybe, but...]

A thriving world is an indicator of many things, most of them positive, yes. But as you know, I'm of the belief that the land thrives must while you've faced adversity. [He inclines his head to let Dohalim place the rose; its red is a pop of color against the rest of him, and once it's set, the stem grows to gently sweep his hair back into a ponytail.] As you may be aware, in fact, I'm still getting used to things other than adversity and history.

[they're not things he'll know from history, but more... intrinsically, as their connection provides a sort of sharing of history. Every brief glimpse, up until there's so much quiet, is usually a memory of battle. Even more curiously, they seem related only to the stone and earth, with very little reference to plants at all.

Nonetheless, he does smile when the willow stands before them, nodding agreement.]

A wonderful choice, I think. Let us settle there. [and when they get there, he'll swiftly unfold the square blanket for them both, uncovering the top of the basket so that the young Renan can peek if he so chooses. It's a dream, of course, so what's inside is anyone's guess - but no doubt tasty nonetheless. The one thing that is there, separate from the food, is a peculiar earthen tea set. The tea inside is still piping hot, lovely and fragrant.] would you like to do the honors while I pour the tea? I'm only a little peckish, myself.

[a dream that Zhongli is lucid and aware enough that he knows it's as such, but for Dohalim, it's as if this is happening in reality. as he settles down on the blanket, he looks into the basket while Zhongli pulls out the tea set and tea]

I would love to.

[he pulls out a box of sliced baguette that he sets down on the blanket, as well as small containers of what seems to be like a pate of sorts and some caviar, as well as a small jar of grainy mustard. a small meal by Dohalim's standards, but judging by thelook on his face and the small smile on his lips, he looks more than pleased with the spread laid out in front of him]

Rappig pate and caviar. You shouldn't have.

[it doesn't take long for him to pick up the butter knife, and spreading some of the pate on a piece of bread, before offering it to Zhongli. no caviar is offered; he's aware of the man's aversion to seafood, for some reason.

the atmosphere around them is tranquil; Dohalim looks up through the branches, as beams of sunlight peek through the lush veil. it's perfectly warm, and the earthy scent around them only adds to the experience. he hadn't realised that there's this oasis hidden past the lake... he's not sure why he hadn't just traversed it, despite a very vague feeling in the back of his mind as he thinks about it, but he perishes the thought quickly, looking back down at Zhongli]

I'm glad you could join me for lunch.

Of course I should have. If I don't spoil you a little, who will?

[Zhongli exhales a chuckle as he pours them both tea, setting the cups on their saucers next to the plates. A small meal is a meal nonetheless, of course, and the day seems too young to suggest anything heavy and rich. Something like that, anyway. The deity takes the proffered bread delicately, shifting and wrapping his tail more comfortably over his waist such that the tuft at its end can trail off into the grass.]

It is my pleasure to join you, and it warms my heart that you're pleased with my presence.

[privately, he's intrigued by the man's dreamscape. Much of it was started by the deity's actions, but what comes into being is ultimately the result of Dohalim's deep subconscious. The things he can't grasp in daily life, things he buried under trauma and circumstance and expectation. The oasis is so soon past the lake of his inaction, his regret... it's a brilliant and warm space that wholly suggests the young man's true self is still there, still holding on.

Honestly, he doesn't know if he's qualified to help pull him out of his pain, but Zhongli doesn't want to lose Dohalim. The thought is far too painful.]

You did seem quite lost in thought, earlier; perhaps it would help to talk it through? Although I'm hardly one to complain at simply keeping company.

[Dohalim stops midway from lifting the baguette to his mouth when Zhongli asks the question, before he lowers it on the small plate he has in his other hand. what had he been thinking about...? before Zhongli had shown up, he was standing in the lake...

it slowly comes back to him, but not as a sweeping darkness that threatens to plunge this dreamscape into the hell it usually does. it comes back to him only as a thought, one Dohalim ponders on. he remembers the whispers trying to lead him into the lake, and the temptation to take that first step, before Zhongli...]

Solitude. A deafening silence broken by whispers of regret. The lake...

[his voice takes on the nuance he usually speaks with in his wakefulness, when they're alone together; soft, but heavy with emotion. with Zhongli's appearance, he'd momentarily forgotten what that lake represented. but now that he thinks back on it, he felt a coldness nip at him as he stared into that lake of silver.

Dohalim shivers slightly, before shaking his head]

I'm not sure how to explain it. My thoughts were both quiet and loud at the same time, yet incoherent. It was... Strange. Unnerving. Heavy.

A difficult thing to see past, I understand.

[Zhongli smiles quietly, his voice soft with understanding. after all, learning to live with one's choices and mistakes...]

It sounds like confusion and emotions warring with one another, to me. The things we cannot change often weigh the heaviest, I think. Having to hold them, to live for them, and continue to move on even when it's exhausting.

[setting his teacup down, Zhongli does allow himself a bite of food. he speaks of these things as simple facts, things he himself has been through. the misfortune of it is truly that he doesn't know how to actually help Dohalim through this. he can offer his thoughts and suggestions as the man makes statements, but other than that...]

Mm... Perhaps.

[Dohalim can say that he's a little confused. more of the fact that there are so many feelings that are currently muted; guilt and remorse, anger at himself, a despondency in regards to his own life. said feelings creep up on him, feeling them nip, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. it had been blissful when Zhongli showed up here, but now that they're talking of such things, all Dohalim can wish for is to go back to that bliss.

at least the lake hadn't come back.

Dohalim taps the side of his plate, thinking for a moment, before speaking again]

The question is, how does one keep moving when they're too tired to?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject