Lilies for the Funeral Pyre
Summary: Hanahaki Disease, or Leah’s Punishment as it is known in Elan Rid, is known for its beauty, as well as its devastating health affects. It is not an illness that should be taken lightly. Medical advancements have found no cure for it as of yet; most cases are fatal.
Robert Jones was doomed.
Pairing: Onesided Robert Jones/Lucas Dahmere
Rating: T
Words: 729
03/03/17
When was the last time Robert had let out such a deep, full-bellied laugh? Certainly not in recent memory. He vaguely recalls a time when Andrew had rushed into the living room, excitedly calling for Rebecca. The way she had screamed when she saw the Glasgow smile smeared on Andrew's face, just below his shimmering green panda eyes. Roberts abdomen was sore for days after that.
It had been a while indeed.
One hand clutches at his stomach, wrinkling his pristine uniform, and the other is pressed against his mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sound. He felt tears beginning to stream down his face and felt quite embarrassed that he be reduced to such an undignified state. Unfortunately, he does not believe he will be stopping anytime soon, not with Lucas egging him on from across the desk. Lucas, that pest! Here he was, signing documents to renew the age old Treaty—a matter of the utmost seriousness and an honor to have his signature on—and Lucas thought this was the perfect time to recount a rather undignified tale from his youth. He must remember to gift Lucas a raccoon pelt next time he visits. Perhaps he could present it over some drinks, see the way Lucas' face flushes red in embarrassment—
Roberts laughter suddenly gives way to a bought of coughing, and Lucas is quick to exit the room for water. As he leaves, Roberts cough subsides. He takes out his handkerchief in order to clean his hand, and promptly drops it. He feels his blood run cold, his vision tunnels, and suddenly the room seems off kilter.
Footsteps snap him out of it. He scrambles to open a drawer and conceal Leah's Punishment, slamming it closed before the door opens.
"If I'd've known you'd laugh so hard I'd've already had some wa—Rob? Are you alright?" Lucas hurries over and sets the glass down on the desk. He instinctively reaches out, thinks better of it, and sets his palms down onto the wood instead. He gazes down at Robert, brows drawn up in concern. Robert can't bring himself to look at Lucas.
"I'm fine," he manages, eyes fixedly pointed at the document before him. They should finish signing this, it is of the utmost importance.
"Robert you look ill. You're pale, sweating—Are you shaking?!" He places his hand on Robert's forehead, and Robert stands so quickly his chair squeals.
"On second thought, you are quite right. It seems I've come down with something," he flicks his gaze from the desk, to the document, to the door, avoiding Lucas all the while, "Continue what you are able without me. I think I am going to go rest until I feel more like myself. It's probably nothing, really." He gathers his things and heads for the door. He's not fast enough. Lucas is suddenly in front of him, worry written all over his face.
"Are you sure? Rob, I can go call for a doctor if you're feeling that sick." Lucas barely finishes his sentence before Robert feels another cough well up in his throat.
With a newfound sense of urgency, he sidesteps the General and rushes out of the room. He all but runs down the halls, turning corner and corner and going through doors and doors until he finds himself in the washroom. Only then does he allow himself to break.
He coughs violently, makes a mess of the sink. His abdomen will be ache for an entirely different reason, now, but he knows that will be nothing compared to the ache that will soon settle in his chest. As tears prick the corner of his eyes (a combination of shutting them so tightly, the cramping of his stomach, and his newfound knowledge) he remembers looking down at a pair of wooden crosses. He remembers thinking, 'If I ever come back, will these have deteriorated? Will they?' He remembers wiping his eyes, voice raw and being utterly alone.
It has been a while indeed.
He glares down at the sink in contempt and heartbreak. Leah's Punishment is an apt name for this, he supposes, for everything he's done until now. What worse punishment could there be than to simultaneously discover you're in love and yet aren't loved in return. He cleans out the petals, washes his face, and waits until his hands stop trembling.