middaeg | [Closed] Ain't No Grave Gonna Hold My Body Down...

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[Closed] Ain't No Grave Gonna Hold My Body Down...

Who: Edelgard, Hubert, Corrin, and possibly others later
When: Mid Feoveuer
Where: Edelgard's home
What: Edelgard's vampiric death
Warnings: Death, blood, potential mention of human experimentation, war and scarification.

Edelgard knew it was happening the moment the pains started. It was hardly unexpected, with how her changes had been progressing. This was simply the last thing, the final nail in her literal coffin, the actual death. It was early evening, she'd risen and bathed, dressed and eaten as per her normal routine. She was preparing to leave for a time, head out into the streets when the first stab of pain struck.

A great, wracking pulse of sheer agony ripped through her and she barked out a short cry that was quickly cut off as more pain tore through her. She staggered and dropped to the floor of her bedroom, clutching her chest and clawing at her shirt in a wordless scream ripped itself from her lips. Everything hurt, everything felt like it was on fire, and words failed her as panic set in.

She didn't want to die.

It was worse than all the nightmares she ever had. There was no creeping dread to her emotions now, no recognition of terror as some weakness that could be ignored, no melancholy. There was simply the sudden, desperate clawing for survival. War had failed to kill her, her many enemies had failed to kill her, a self-styled deity has failed to kill her, but random chance was a foe not even her tenacity and unyielding nature could overcome. Even knowing that she would rise again couldn't stop the blast of mind-numbing panic that shattered the calm composure of her thoughts. As her panic mounted, she thought of so many things, but everything flitted too quickly. Images of friends, of dreams, of a sun she'd never see again, but nothing made sense, it was all a jumble save for one thing.

It was selfish of her, maybe, but the only cogent thought she had as she writhed on the floor was a mental shriek to her Bonded.

Don't let me die alone...please...not alone...

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Something was wrong.

They'd been expecting this. Such sudden, immeasurable distress could only mean one thing. Hubert responded immediately, dropping the firewood in his hands all over the sitting room floor and slashing a gesture through the air. It's a sloppy casting, excessive magic spilling out it his haste, but that didn't matter. He vanished in a blink.

But not to Edelgard's location. The pitch black of his lab didn't even phase Hubert as he took one step, knowing precisely where and what to grab even in total blindness, and the only flash of illumination was his magic lighting for his next teleportation. The detour only took seconds. Hubert materialized in the center of Edelgard's room, a clay jar in hand, a few shreds of dark mist curling off his form.

"Lady Edelgard—" He's kneeling in another instant, jar set on the floor, arms curling under her shoulders and lifting her off the floor.

Time. Hubert knew not how much they had, but it was short. Fear and anxious tension boiled underneath his iron, single-minded focus, heart hammering harder than he would've liked. He hadn't expected this (his mind kept dodging the word "death") to onset so suddenly—perhaps a decline, like an illness or slow failing of the organs. This was—hearing Edelgard scream like this—

No. This would be fine. This happened to all Mirrorbound vampires. No one reported one failing to rise yet. It would work out, logically.

That line of thought did little to ease the invisible vice cinched around his chest.

Hubert would find Edelgard on the floor, curled in around herself, fingers clutching at her chest...specifically around her heart. Her whole body seems wracked with pain, all her blood feeling like it's practically on fire. This wouldn't be the first time she'd suffered such pains, but it's the fear that cuts her deepest. She's not allowed herself to be afraid of this, not since she'd arrived here...and after months of putting it off, it all comes crashing down, shattering her composure.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, eyes watery with tears, tears mingling with blood, Edelgard struggles to focus on Hubert.

"Hurts..." she groans, "Feels like...blood on fire..."

Goddess. Edelgard didn't deserve this, not after everything she's already suffered through.

Hubert might not be the strongest man, but he manages to lift his Bonded from the floor and carry her over to her bed. It's... strangely difficult to let go, to lay her down, Edelgard's unchecked fear threatening to mingle with his own and his will and determination the only buffer between the two. Now wasn't the time to let his emotions best him, try as they might.

Hubert couldn't afford to lose sight of the bigger picture, not for one precious second.

"I did not think to bring anything for pain—forgive me."

Would it even work, at this point? Would what he had in his stores help agony of this degree? If he left to retrieve it, would Edelgard still live when he returned? One task at a time. Focus on the big picture, what awaited her when she would wake again.

Hubert waves his hand at the clay jar, wasted magic curling off him as dark mist in his sloppy casting, and the container quickly floated over to the bed. He curls an arm under Edelgard's back, and props her up.

"You must drink. Can you manage that?"

Perhaps it was cruel to demand something of her, in this state. Hubert couldn't risk hesitating if their time was short.

She felt him, those long arms and longer legs bearing her from the floor. She didn't know what to make of it at first, the pain dulling her mind, but his words manage to bring her back. Edelgard croaks something soft, an acknowledgement that he was not at fault. He'd come as fast as possible, she knew, and the pain would be temporary. She could bear that, at least.

She shifts, some sense of control coming back as she's set down and now finally off of the floor. The bedding is soft enough to help some, and the twitching of her legs subsides, for now.

"...Yes..." she mumbles, reaching a shaking hand up for the clay jar. Her eyes focus for a moment on it before darting up to Hubert.

"What is it?" she murmurs, not unwilling, just unsure, and unable to determine the contents in her current state.

Hubert meets his Bonded's gaze steadily, trying his utmost to project that through their link. Oh, had he a third hand to dry the mess of bloodied tears from her face. His thumb flicks up to break the enchanted wax that preserves the contents, and the cork falls carelessly aside.

"Monsters' blood. From Bonded individuals."

The best Hubert could offer her. There was more, but not much; most of what he'd managed to acquire was unbonded and poor in magic, and even that lacked in quantity compared to the animals' blood. Still, if it came to that, the animal blood was better than nothing.

Hubert's hand never left the jar, supporting it from the bottom should her trembling grip fail, but he would let her guide it.

"As much as you can take."

She took a drink, and then another, hesitant and slow sips. She was cogent enough to not want to spill anything, and she knew the quantity was limited. Unfortunate, that, but it was the best he could offer.

It helped. It helped a little. The blood seeping through her burned a little less, but still she ached. Still she knew she was not going to survive this night.

"...Thank you..." she murmurs again as the blood buys her a little more strength, a little more of herself. Reaching to take the cup, her hands no longer shaking quite so hard, she turns her gaze up to him.

"This is it. I know that. But...I think I have some time."

She takes another mouthful, hands more steady with each swallow, until the jar is drained completely. She feels a bit of a glutton, knowing the cost of such, but it helps, so she will cling to that.

He patiently doesn't rush Edelgard, even if the whole process feels so horribly slow underneath the urgency racing through him. His hand moves tentatively away from the jar at first, until her grip was surely steady.

Time. A blessing in a way, but as much as Hubert wanted to field his preparations, he could only hope her pain wouldn't be cruelly drawn out. More time or not, he couldn't take it for granted. Keep moving forward, one thing at time.

"I see. I have more things to retrieve, then. It should hardly take me a minute—two, at most. Here."

Hubert takes back the empty jar before helping Edelgard settle back against her pillows, sitting up. A slight pause, and then presses his handkerchief into her hand. Good—the trembling seemed to be subsiding, some.

"Do you need—" Read: want, "—me to bring you anything else?"

She leans back at his touch, settling herself against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling for a moment or two. Pallid fingers squeeze around the handkerchief and a faint smile finally quirks at the corners of her lips.

She can feel Corrin and Azura hurrying closer. She knows, perhaps, that this will be a traumatic experience for them, just as it is for Hubert. But something that she can make up to all three of them later. For now...

"A warm, wet cloth. Corrin and Azura are on their way. I would like to look presentable."

Her cheeks do still have blood splattered on them, but the crying has stopped, even if the pain has not. It's manageable, for now.

"And anything you can bring me to dull the ache without dulling my mind. It hurts, but I have no doubt it will get worse. I just don't want to part even temporarily with my mind in shambles."

"Of course," is all Hubert says. He wanted to say more. He didn't want to leave her alone. But that didn't matter, not right now, not with so much left to do.

Hubert steps away and vanishes in dim flash with the empty jar. To his study; to Leslie's room; to his lab; to the kitchen. All sharp, abrupt flickers of magic as he jumped from room to room, putting his exercises from earlier months to practice. It's roughly 50 seconds before he materializes in Edelgard's room again, arm laden with three more jars of varying sizes and a stack of shallow bowls—but he quickly sets them down before vanishing again.

Teleporting short distances to familiarized locations was ordinarily a simple spell, but so rapidly like this and with increasing numbers of objects was nothing short of a strain. To his room, then the lab and the kitchen once more, a little longer this time; it's another thirty seconds before Hubert returns in a purple flash, more of those misty wisps curling off his form and sweat beading at his temple. A pouch is at his belt now that very faintly clicks, and a few tin vials as well.

"I can't promise the medication I have will be effective," Hubert murmurs as he hands his liege a small bowl with a damp rag. "...I've also suggested that Leslie head to Gloucester's for the time being."

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