Don't Complain (Avari)

[Warden Thrice]

He dreamed that he was flying. Strange, he’d never dreamed of something like that before. The sun was setting, making the sky a warm gold that wrapped and held him from above while below him stretched nothing but open sea, to eternity and beyond the horizon. He felt a thump and looked around lazily. Where had that come from? There was nothing but him, the sky and the sea. Another. No, wait, a tapping. The sky was darkening. Something rasped at the edge of his mind, pulling him from the light and into blackness. He blinked and rolled over, disoriented, and gave himself a few seconds to organize his thoughts. “I’m here,” he said softly, reaching towards Avari. He found her shoulders and place a hand on her forehead, hoping she wouldn’t hit him in defense. She was feverish. He moved his hand to her collar and spread his fingers to feel her breathing, which wasn’t much better. “You must needing to lay down. Resting.” He swept his hand until he found the waterskin, then held it against her head to cool her off a small amount. “There. Keeping it there will colding. And laying down, now, please.” He scurried over to the oranges and tailweed. “Are you hungry? Would you liking food?”

[Avari]

"Hungry...food?" Avari echoed weakly.

Slowly, the meaning of his question sank into her mind and she realized, with a dull feeling of dismay, that she wasn't sure of the answer. Only a day ago, the Konti would have seized upon the offer of food ravenously, but now she felt so unsettled and unwell that the initial thought of eating anything brought a feeble nausea. The cool leather of the waterskin on her forehead was comforting, though. It drove some of the feverish mists from her head like a shining ray of light, letting her think more clearly.

"No…no food," she demurred, her words slurring like a drunken woman's.

She tried to turn toward Eorar's voice, but against the darkness of his cavern home, bright spots danced before her eyes at the merest exertion. A curious light-headedness seized her, making Avari give up at once. Dizzily, she tried to think of anything that would help, but even at her clearest-minded, she had never known that much about medicine or healing.

"Some more water, please," she croaked out instead. "And whatever herbs or poultices or teas you have to take away this burning. Please," she added.

She lay back down as he'd instructed her, marveling inwardly at how preemptory the mild-mannered Charoda sounded when he was focused on the business of healing. When he spoke in that tone of voice, whether quietly or not, Avari wasn't about to argue with him, even if she'd had the energy. She knew the voice of authority when she heard it.

"Do what you think is best," she murmured with a rare display of meekness. "I know you want to make me better. Better than I ever have been. I know you want to help me. So, I...trust you." The words came harder than she'd expected. "Do whatever you think is best, Charoda."