Wanted to do the October prompt lists only to get sucked into RL issues and a SINGLE fic that quickly has gotten a little outta hand.
As a very slow writer the fact this fic is 6000 words and counting is a LOT. Especially considering this was supposed to be a short one shot. XD
Since I refuse to post on A03 until a fic is done to avoid unfinished works, despite having 3 chapters done I wont be posting there yet... but I'll give the first chapter here as a peek for you all!!
Hope you like it so far!
The Things I do for You. A SageCluse Sickfic.
Chapter 1.
There were advantages to being an immortal cookie. The obvious aside, one of the most useful of those advantages is the high resilience to illness.
Even a semi-immortal cookie would have this benefit to a lesser degree, and when times of great illness struck cookie kind it made it all the easier for them to rise up to aid the unfortunate mortals caught in it’s path.
Usually.
There were exceptions to every rule, an unfortunate fact that the Sage was loathing right now. Head heavy, joints aching and stiff as if rusted… this plague was an odd one that rather than feeding off of the dough and sugar of a cookie would feed off of their magic instead.
All cookies could fall prey to it, but those with strong magic would be hit all the worse…
And Sage was all magic. Bound deep to his very dough and soul… if he didn’t know better he’d think this was made to be a curse for him specifically.
However that wasn’t the case, as it had been spreading for a while now. News of it had first come from the far land of Crispa, the cookies that stubbornly remained even when their once leaders fell had written a desperate plea for help in finding a cure. Their healers could not heal it, and would instead find themselves falling to it, and more and more cookies were beginning to crumble.
It had only recently crossed the great divide that separated their lands, and even more recently came to his own home.
He'd foolishly assumed he’d be fine. Even most magical illnesses had no effect on him so he met the news with little more than a frown before continuing in his attempts to find a cure. At least this would make finding patients to study a little easier, he thought.
That was before the headaches began, and from there it only spiraled.
Now he was his primary research subject and guinea pig for attempts. Still forcing himself up and to his desk every morning despite how the world swam before his eyes and the pain in his dough, knowing they needed his help as was his duty.
“You look like shit.”
The low dry statement barely managed to breach the haze of sickness that he’d been battling with the past week. Still seated at his desk surrounded by letters and theories and failed test results as he had been since that morning.
And the day before, and before that, and before that….
“Mmmm, I apologize for my unsatisfactory appearance my dear Recluse…” Witches his voice sounded awful even to him. When was the last time he had a drink again? “However I have been quite distracted by important matters.”
Slowly, his body fighting the movement as he forced himself to sit up and give what he hoped was a bright smile even as it felt more like a grimace.
“As much as it pains me greatly to say it, I fear it may be best for your own safety if we were to postpone our debates until this plague has been dealt with.”
“No.”
To say Sage was surprised at the refusal was an understatement. Surely Truthless would take the opportunity to leave without worry of him spreading his ‘cruel seeds of despair he foolishly called truth’ in a heartbeat.
The fact he didn’t, that he was refusing to leave him despite his awful state warmed his heart and left his face burning at what that could possibly mean for his opinion of him…
Or perhaps that was just the fever talking…
“I don’t want you falling sick too though.” Sage actually whined, trying to swat the other away. “I know very well you are far from lacking in the magic department, and that is what this awful thing seems to like most in a cookie.”
“I will be fine. Stop your annoying fussing and stay still for once in your life.”
“That’s what I thought but look at me now!!!”
As if on queue harsh painful sounding coughs shook the scholars body. They didn’t let up until he sounded out of breath completely, a feat from a cookie who didn’t really need to breath if he didn’t want to, leaving him with just a miserable whimper of pain.
“Yes you look quite pathetic, and yet you continue to stupidly force yourself to keep working rather than rest.”
“I’m fine.” It wasn’t the most believable sounding with how it was more wheezed than spoken. “It’s just a slight slowdown.”
Sage could feel how the other’s eyes narrowed at him, but paid him no mind.
“Now I do insist you head back to your peak for now to avoid falling prey yourself, I have to get back to- Hey wait what are you??”
He wasn’t even allowed to finish what he was saying when the quill he’d been shakily holding was ripped from his grasp, his chair pulled back, and he was yanked out of it. Held aloft by magic like a fussy cat.
“If you keep lying saying you’re fine while looking like you faced off with a pack of cake hounds and lost after a week of all nighters, people are going to believe I had a hand in this.”
Sage could do little but look at the other with utter betrayal as he was floated away from his desk and out of his study towards his room. Limbs too tired to do much struggling.
“And as I have no interest in dealing with torches and pitch forks this century, especially not because your stubborn and self destructive ass refuses to take care of yourself. You have left me no choice but to force you into resting even if it requires me binding you to your bed myself.”
“Kinky.” Perhaps if he aggravated Truthless enough he’d give up on this and let him go back to work???
The unamused look he got didn’t make that idea seem very viable, not to mention the fog in his mind made it very hard to think of anything that could succeed right now.
“And if you’re going to insult my ass at least cap it off with a complement. It’s a pretty nice ass after all.”
Still nothing, yeah that plan wasn’t going to work.
Before long he was unceremoniously tossed onto his bed, thin blankets pulled tight over him before he could even try to get up.
“’Cluseyyyyy come onnnn!” he whined, wriggling weakly in his blanket prison. “I’m not in that bad a shape!”
The other just scoffed, summoning a glass of water from no where (wait that was one of his glasses, since when did he know his house enough to do that???) and shoving the straw in it into his mouth.
“Should I be touched that you seem to have suddenly become so devoted to deceit with all these lies you’re speaking? A far cry better from you’re usual filth.”
Unable to properly complain with the straw so ‘kindly’ shoved in his mouth, the scholar settles on a dramatic pout before taking a drink.
Oh witches it REALLY has been a while since I had something to drink hasn’t it.
Now that he was aware of just how thirsty he was the glass was emptied in a heartbeat. The sweet taste of the water finally wetting his parched throat so he could speak clearly…
Wait. Sweet? … Oh that bastard.
As if able to read his mind, Truthless smirked at him.
“I did say I’d force you if needed, and you’re too stubborn to just behave.”
The sleeping draught that had been added to his water was one of his own making, and so it was incredibly fast acting for the nights he actually wanted to sleep but couldn’t
He barely had time to open his mouth to curse the other before he was out.