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Stefen rubbed Vanyel’s back as he struggled through another coughing fit, noting that Van’s ribs and backbone were becoming disturbingly prominent. Stef’s throat and chest ached in sympathy listening to the hacking cough and feeling the way it wracked Vanyel’s body. Two weeks of pneumonia had left him wrecked; body weakened by fever, chest and throat sore, and voice a gravelly croak from countless hours of coughing. With a groan, he leaned back against the pillows, closing his eyes and tiredly clutching his soiled handkerchief. Stefen transferred his hand from back to front, rubbing circles around Vanyel’s chest.
He gave Van a moment to rest before he asked, “Do you feel like eating something?”
Van looked at Stefen as if the very thought of food was anathema. He pressed on. “I know you’re not hungry, but some warm broth would make your throat feel better,” he cajoled. “And I can count your ribs. You need food.”
Van sighed, signaling defeat with a single nod of his head. Words were too much effort right now.
***
Jinni, the servant assigned to the Herald’s wing, brought up a kettle of the special broth Healer’s had concocted for invalids, made with beef bones cracked open to release the rich marrow, and supplemented with herbs and milk. She poured a mug full and set the rest of it by the fire, and brought it over to the bed, pressing it into Stefen’s hands.
“Cook’s had a pot of that going since this mornin’; should be good and strong, and there’s plenty more.”
Stefen gave her a distracted smile and thanked her; Van cracked open his eyes and smiled a silent thank you as well. She curtseyed and left, taking the basket of soiled handkerchiefs with her, and promising to have clean ones sent over.
“Here,” Stef said, and Van sat up, holding out his hands for the mug.
“Do you have it?” Stefen asked, his hand hovering just beneath it to catch should it slip. Vanyel managed to hold on to it, but he could only bring it up so far before his arms just stopped and trembled, the fragrant broth hovering just inches from his face. He glared at it in frustration, trying to compel strength back into his arms by sheer force of will. Stef used his palm to push the mug all the way up to Vanyel’s mouth, and he managed a few embarrassed sips before he whispered, “Enough,”
“For now,” Stefen said, setting the broth on the nightstand.
***
“I feel disgusting,” Vanyel said, his throat still raw, so his pronouncement was barely audible. Stef looked up from the desk and the letters he was sorting. Three weeks into his lifebonded’s bout with pneumonia, and he seemed to be getting slightly better. He was still weak as a kitten, but he wasn’t coughing as much, and his fever was going down.
“You’re not taking a bath when you still have pneumonia,” Stef said, exasperated with how completely thoughtless Van was being.
Van grumbled a bit and slunk down the mattress, folding his arms. Stef hid his smile and went back to reading their mail; when he looked back up at the bed a few moments later, Vanyel was asleep again.
***
“At least help me to shave,” Vanyel said plaintively. He scratched at the beard on his face, irritation plain.
Stefen sighed, worn down by the constant nagging, and finally willing to compromise. “All right. I suppose just getting your face wet for a little while won’t hurt you. I hope you have shears, though, because I certainly don’t.”
“In the kit under the bed,” he said.
***
“You sure you can manage this?” Stefen asked as Vanyel stumbled a little, leaning heavily against him.
They stood like that for a moment before Vanyel flopped back down on the bed, better judgment winning over his desire to scrub away weeks’ worth of sweat and sickness. He’d been able to sponge off a few times since his chest finally cleared, but gods, his skin was fair crawling with the need for a proper bath. But he knew he wasn’t capable of walking any sort of distance yet. With his luck, he’d fall on top of Stef and he’d end up with a sprained wrist, or worse.
Damn.
***
“You really didn’t have to do this,” Vanyel said, although he was extremely thankful Jinni had roped a couple of the strongest servants into hauling an old tub up to their room. Honestly he felt a little embarrassed by all the attention, and he hated to make so much extra work for the servants, but they cheerfully shrugged off his protests that they were doing too much.
And Jinni, bless her thoughtful heart, had even stripped the old bed linens and laid on a fresh set without his even asking, while the boys filled the tub. She winked knowingly at Stefen; ten years of working in the Herald’s wing of the palace had given her intimate knowledge of all the Heralds’ quirks.
Tub filled and servants gone, Stef helped him strip and make his way to the tub, and he sank into the water with a blissful sigh, dunking his head briefly before settling back and resting for a moment. Even the brief walk from the bed to the tub had been taxing. The water wasn’t half as hot as he normally liked it, since it had been hauled by the bucketful all the way from the kitchen, but he wasn’t going to complain. Maybe, though—he tested his mind, wondering if it would be too much effort for him to try heating the water with magic. Smiling when he saw there was enough ambient energy in the room to heat the water without using his own strength, he put his mind to work, and soon steam was rising from the surface and his skin was angry-red.
He felt fingers rubbing his scalp, and the scent of soap filled the room as Stefen meticulously scrubbed his hair. It was incredibly soothing, and his neck felt like it had turned into jelly with the way his head was lolling to the side.
“Rinse,” Stef said, and Vanyel closed his eyes and held his breathe as Stefen sluiced water over his head.
“Lean forward,” and Stef began scrubbing Van’s back. Vanyel rested his chin on his knees and let out a half sigh, half moan as the soap cleared away the film of sweat and filth he imagined was covering him. Stefen continued his methodic attentions, and even though what he was doing wasn’t sexual in any way, it was intimate in a way that Van knew he could never express in words. There’s almost no one else alive I’d let see me this vulnerable, Vanyel reflected, and no one I’d prefer over him.
Body completely scrubbed, Stef pulled a chair over and sat down next to the tub. He stroked a few strands of hair off of Vanyel’s forehead, and lazily let his fingers wander through the damp strands.
“Join me?” Van asked.
“Thank you, no, I’d prefer not to be boiled alive. And you’d better not have worn yourself out keeping that water hot,” he said, although there was no irritation in his words. The warmth and steam filling up the room was making them both feel more relaxed than they had in weeks, since before Van had even gotten sick.
Vanyel chuckled. Now that he was getting well, Van realized Stefen was rather adorable when he was mother-henning him.
“Thank you,” he said, making Stefen Feel his gratitude. “I know I can be…trying when I’m ill.”
He could hear the amusement in Stefen’s voice as he replied, “You certainly can.” Van felt the brush of Stefen’s lips on his forehead. And, unspoken but loud and clear nonetheless, You’re most welcome.