In the end, the injuries had been much more extensive than he’d thought. The perpetrators had opted for poisoned weapons against Farena, leaving him with stab wounds that could not be healed with any magic. It was odd seeing him now, bandaged and bedridden like Leona had never seen him before. In spite of this, the other tried to play it off as if it was nothing, trying to reason he wasn’t in pain.
“No, it doesn’t hurt, it just feels like it does,” the other said as he sat up.
"Then it does hurt, idiot," he scolded as he pushed Farena back down to lay on the bed. Even the simple act made the sense of guilt resurface, his frown deepening before his gaze returned to the injuries littering the other's bodies. The one along his stomach seemed to be the worst one, a patch of dried blood evident despite the fresh dressing. How did it get this out of hand?
He sighed, rubbing his neck before taking the time to check each dressed wound so far. Luckily, it seemed the medics hadn't missed any of the other injuries, only a scrap on Farena's arm still exposed. Getting up, he tied up his hair in a messy ponytail, pushing a few strands out of the way before turning to the medical equipment on the side table. He took the bowl of salve from there, returning to Farena's side to apply it to the wound. He's careful, but even so, the sensation causes the other evident discomfort as he shifted in bed.
It was times like this he felt envy for his brother's gift. One of life and healing, instead of desiccation and destruction. A simple touch would be enough to cure the other's discomfort. Yes, it wouldn’t be as useful this time around, but who’s to say he wouldn’t use every bit of it to try and give the other some relief from any pain. He owed him as much. After all, this whole situation could have been avoided, couldn't it have?
His brother's voice snapped him from his thoughts, realizing he'd finished applying the salve, his fingers merely tracing an unscathed patch of skin. A part of him wanted to continue the touch, caress and hold the other to bring him some sort of comfort. He knows better than to do such things in the open. "...I...," he mumbled, pulling his hand away as if the touch burned.
Just as he made to say something else though, there was a knock at the door before it opened and the doctor peered in. "Ah, pardon the intrusion. I wanted to check how His Majesty is doing."
"...Right," was the only answer Leona gave as he swiftly got up from his seat and left the bowl on the table once more. He gave Farena a slight nod in goodbye before walking past the doctor and out the door. Behind him, he could hear the doctor's muffled voice, greeting Farena and beginning his examination.
He doesn't catch any of the words as he made it to his room, shutting and locking the door before finally letting out a shaky breath. He felt irate and nauseous, uncertain of how to silence the racing thoughts in his head. No. No, he wasn't thinking straight coming here. He should have stayed in school and let things calm down before visiting. It felt too overwhelming being here and seeing Farena like this. Everything felt too tense.
Taking another breath, he stepped deeper into his room and sat at the edge of the bed. Well, he could at least stay until Farena was up and about. Then, he'd leave for awhile...
Of course it hurts, but Farena has never been one to cry and complain. When they were younger, seeing his brother hurt made Leona cry twice as hard as when he hurt himself, so Farena taught himself to downplay any physical pain for the sake of his baby brother; often pretending it wasn’t a big deal so it wouldn’t scare him too much. It only took a few years for Leona to see through that charade, but by then it had become second nature to Farena, and to this day he doesn’t see the gain in making a big deal out of it. Pity can’t make wounds heal any faster.
Something’s off about Leona today; Farena noticed that as soon as he was up and present enough to make sense of his surroundings. His brother isn’t uncaring in general, even if he likes to pretend that nothing fazes him, but the way he’s stayed at Farena’s side since returning home, checking his wounds, like he’s suspecting the doctors of being careless, is unusual. Maybe there is nothing more to it than simple worry; after all, the attack was a shock to all of them. And yet, Farena can’t shake the feeling that something else is lingering in Leona’s mind. Unfortunately, his attempt to bring it up does not yield any fruit, as they are distracted before any kind of conversation can unfold.
There isn’t another chance to talk for the rest of the day and almost the entirety of the next. Leona doesn’t visit him again and the feeling that something is wrong only grows. By the time the sun begins to sink there’s finally a knock on Farena’s door - but it isn’t his brother.
While the court physicians are infamous for disagreeing on almost every diagnosis, they are unanimous in their advice that Farena should stay in bed for at least another week, and not move around too much, to prevent any tearing of wounds and spreading of residual poison. But surely when they said ‘no walking’ they meant longer distances than that between the king’s room and that of his brother. To his relief Farena doesn’t run into any of them on his way to Leona, which borders on a miracle considering how long it takes him compared to normally. The injuries he suffered aren’t that severe (by his defintion), but the poison the assassins used is still coursing through his system, making him dizzy and slow, and keeping his body from healing effectively. Even his magic is affected by it - not that it would be of great help in this situation.
Farena knocks twice and twice again - a rhythm Leona would recognize as his right away - and opens the door. Exhaustion makes him lean against the doorframe for a moment, his eyes scanning the room for his brother.
“I’ve been missing my nurse today,” Farena laments, forcing a tired smile on his face. He pushes off the doorframe and steps into the room, focuses on his breathing until he reaches the chaise longue by the balcony. He sinks down on it with a groan, his eyes lingering on the bed for a moment, which would have been closer but which he deliberately avoided.
He didn’t come here with an accusation. Just a thought - a question. An assumption he needs proven; a belief he wants.. confirmed. Bad things have been said about Leona for longer than Farena cares to remember. He tries to discourage them where he can, but his brother’s prolonged absence from the kingdom and his unwillingness to contribute to anything are not helping his cause. Farena knows him to be good, always has. He may have his dark sides, as all of them do, but he is not a villain. He would not betray his own.
“I’m glad you’re here.. and safe, Leona. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened.. if you’d been here.” Cheka’s cries still ring in his ears, the fear of losing him sits like ice in his bones. “Have you been to see Cheka? He was asking about you. Well, he’s always asking about you.”
