[Oswald sounds far away for a moment and it's like the whole world blurs and darkens, before coming back into focus. That can't be good. This isn't... This isn't good... Oswald is distressed and upset and he should fix that, he should...
Without even thinking, Edward reaches out to hold onto Oswald, to ground him. Which he realizes when he looks up slowly, quickly letting go. He'll just... he's getting blood on Oswald, that won't do.]
I-- Sorry, I... Yes. Perhaps we'd better...
[He tries to force himself back to his feet, but it doesn't go well. He's far too wobbly.]
[Edward looks pale, too pale, and Oswald's heart is in his throat as Edward releases him--and Oswald is grabbing for his cane, before grabbing at Edward again, trying to get him upright]
[He wants to protest. It's not exactly proper, leaning on his Prince like this. But suddenly it doesn't feel as if he has the strength for it. And he kind of... needs Oswald to stay upright...]
...Apologies, your highness...
[The least he can do is acknowledge how improperly he's behaving right now, obviously.]
Apo--[it's half sputtered, as Edward's leaning on him, incredulous] What could you even be apologizing for right now, Edward, I have no idea! [it's snapped, his temper starting to get the better of him] Just focus on walking, alright? We just have to get back--
I'm causing you trouble right now. And I got blood on you...
[Edward sounds a little distant as they keep walking. He's not really looking at Oswald, he's looking at the ground. The edges of his vision keep darkening and he tries to fight it off, but it's hard.]
You saved my life, you absolute--! [he cuts himself off with a snarl, noting somewhere that Edward sounds...off. He, too, is incredibly focused on the path ahead, his arm around Edward's waist, practically clinging, holding him up as best he can]
[Edward just falls silent. All his energy is focused now on just moving. One step at a time. Mercifully they weren't too far away from the village yet, but right now the distance feels impossible.
It doesn't take much longer before Edward's vision goes dark for a moment again and he stumbles forwards.]
[Edward stumbles. Oswald's arm tightens reflexively around his waist, other hand tightening on his cane, grunting as he bears the brunt of Edward's weight. His ankle, shin, knee protest loudly, sending pain shooting up his leg, and he gasps for a breath--but holds them steady]
Edward--[and Oswald's turning his head to look at him as best he can, heart in his throat]
[Edward looks... not great. Barely clinging to consciousness now, only through sheer force of will. It's a miracle he's still upright and probably says something about him that Oswald doesn't have time to unpack right now.
And right now, Edward barely even hears Oswald. It's all kind of fading into the background again and he's trying so, so hard to ignore the temptation of just lying down on the ground and letting himself sleep. He can't.
He doesn't quite remember why he can't, right now. But it's... it's important.]
[Edward looks like he's about seconds away from collapsing. They're close to the village, but just not close enough, and it's not like Oswald has any flares he could send out or if anyone would even get here in time if he did--Oswald's leg twists under him a bit and he hisses, dropping his cane and unwittingly sending them both to their knees. He barely manages to keep them both there and not going all the way to the ground. It's feeling more hopeless by the minute and he doesn't know what to do.
His magic sits, vibrating, just barely repressed at the edge of his consciousness. He can feel it reaching for Edward; grasping fingers that startle and surprise him. But then Oswald's eyes narrow, flicking briefly, panicked, over Edward's form. His magic has always drawn him towards poisoned rats, diseased creatures--the sick and the ill, wanting to sink itself into such things and twine itself around it with a need that Oswald has long repressed. It hadn't reached for Edward until now, but now it's stretching out its tendrils, especially towards that wound in his side--
Oswald sucks in a breath, shaky, before pressing his hand there] Just--hold still, Edward, I need to--[it's stilted, nervous, as he feels his magic seep out of him, work its way into whatever wound Edward sustained there, and wrap tightly around the infection, latching onto it like a hungry thing.]
[It's only a small drop to his knees, before even that buckles and he's down on the ground, but it feels like it takes a long time, somehow. The dirt is almost pleasant right now, compared to walking just moments before. He's still, somehow, managing to stay conscious... just about.
Not that it's helping him much. Staying awake is the only thing he's capable of doing now, anything else too arduous of a task to even think about.
And then there's... there's something on - no, in? - his side and it feels foreign and wrong and
[Now--now he just needs to take it out. His magic's got a hold of it, he can feel it, and now he just needs to...get it out. He tugs on it, slowly at first. His magic resists a little, having swelled with the addition of the poison. Oswald presses his mouth into a line, pulling with a little more force. Which...definitely is not going to feel good, but he has to get it out before his magic latches onto anything it shouldn't.] Hold on--hold on--[it's hissed through clenched teeth as he draws it out, tension in every part of him, hyper-focused on this]
[The wrong feeling gets worse and it takes a second before it registers, but oh
it's pain
that's pain that he's feeling.
It had blended in with the burning at first and he'd barely even noticed it anymore, because when everything hurts you almost don't notice it anymore. But this, this is sharp and fresh pain, cutting through the rest of it, making all the sensations clearer...
And Edward gasps, curling up, clutching at the ground as if that will help him any, but that feeling is all he can think about now and he needs it to stop...]
[Edward doubles over from the pain, fingers digging into the dirt, and Oswald's stomach twists, feeling guilt and fear suddenly wrap tight in his chest--] I'm sorry--I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's almost out, I promise--[half babbled, fingers trembling even as he presses his hand harder against Edward's side, soaked with his blood, pulling his magic further out and with it, that poison. He's almost got it, it's almost finished, just the last little bit--]
[It's been a long time since pain bothered him this much. It had just sort of become normal to him, at some point. Now it hits him as badly as it did the first few times he got hurt protecting Oswald. Or like it did back in training.
He doesn't hear Oswald's apologies. Doesn't even realize this is Oswald's doing, honestly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, whatever part of him is still even capable of thought thinks that, oh, he must be dying right now. That would explain it.
And despite himself, despite all of his training where he learned to just accept pain, he can't keep a pained whimper from escaping him.]
[it's that sound--that pained whimper, that undoes him. Oswald's pulling the last of his magic out, maybe a bit too quickly, but it's out, it's gone--and he can feel his magic practically devour its prize, satisfied, pleased. Oswald, on the other hand, feels sick. His hand presses, harder, against that wound, trying to stem the sudden slightly increased flow of blood, like he just opened it back up]
Come on--come on, Edward, it's out now, we have to get you to town--
Edward--Edward you have to get up! [it's almost frantic--desperate, because he can't have killed him, not again--and he's tightening his arm around Edward again, grabbing at his cane, and trying to push them both up to standing] Come on, we're so close--Edward!
[He feels... something trying to force him back up. And it's not conscious thought but instinct that takes over, pushing up further. It's... past his limit. Way past his limit.
However, Edward's good at forcing himself past his limit. He can't focus his eyes or his hearing or even his mind. He can't quite understand what's happening right now, the whole world just seeming like a dark blur.
But he can move. He can... he can move. He has to. Has to? Yes. It's important. Someone needs him to. Someone... Someone important.]
[Edward moves. One foot in front of the other and they're not even close to out of the woods but it's something--and Oswald's entire right leg from hip to ankle is on fire from pain but they have to keep going.
It's not too long but it honestly feels like forever before they reach the edge of the village--and the moment Oswald sees someone, he's calling out, hoarse, frantic]
[They get there. Somehow, they make it there. Edward only realizes as much, not even consciously, really, when they slow. And that's... that's as far as he can go. Whatever strength he somehow managed to force out evaporates, leaving his legs weak and he drops.
[Edward suddenly and abruptly becomes dead weight, and Oswald yelps as he goes down with him, not expecting it. He barely manages to catch them both, awkwardly collapsing onto the ground--at which point he's struggling to pull Edward the rest of the way into his lap, cradling him as shouts echo around him, help on its way--]
Hold on, Edward, just hold on, we made it, they're coming, okay? Please--[he's babbling at him, desperate almost, he can't lose him now--]
[Someone's talking. He realizes that suddenly, vaguely. Someone's... talking to him. And he reaches out, his hand ending up at Oswald's sleeve, as if he wants to confirm there's really someone there.
And everything just... fades out, slowly, as consciousness finally leaves him.
Somehow, he lasted this long before passing out. Even while bleeding, burnt, and completely drained.]
[when Edward wakes, eventually-- at least enough to have any faculties--he'll find himself in a bed. Also he'll probably be in a solid amount of pain.
But better in a bed than dead, right???
Once he manages to get a look around the room, he'll find Oswald asleep with his head resting on his folded arms at the edge of the mattress. He looks almost paler than normal and there are dark bruises around his eyes but aside from that, he's fine. Edward managed to protect him quite well, it seems]
[Honestly, he's surprised to wake up. From what little he remembers, it kind of seems like a miracle. A painful, painful miracle, because the second he comes back into awareness, all he can focus on is how much everything hurts.
He hisses loudly, louder than he wants, tightly gripping the... covers? So he's in a bed. And immediately, almost panicked, he looks around... and spots Oswald rather quickly.
There he is... He's okay. Oh thank goodness, he's okay. Immediately, the pain seems trivial. The only thing that matters is Oswald, after all. Now he just needs to... to get out of this bed, as soon as he can...
Slowly, despite the pain, he tries to prop himself up a little. Come on, Edward, this is nothing.]
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Without even thinking, Edward reaches out to hold onto Oswald, to ground him. Which he realizes when he looks up slowly, quickly letting go. He'll just... he's getting blood on Oswald, that won't do.]
I-- Sorry, I... Yes. Perhaps we'd better...
[He tries to force himself back to his feet, but it doesn't go well. He's far too wobbly.]
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Here, wait, lean on me--
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...Apologies, your highness...
[The least he can do is acknowledge how improperly he's behaving right now, obviously.]
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[Edward sounds a little distant as they keep walking. He's not really looking at Oswald, he's looking at the ground. The edges of his vision keep darkening and he tries to fight it off, but it's hard.]
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It doesn't take much longer before Edward's vision goes dark for a moment again and he stumbles forwards.]
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Edward--[and Oswald's turning his head to look at him as best he can, heart in his throat]
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And right now, Edward barely even hears Oswald. It's all kind of fading into the background again and he's trying so, so hard to ignore the temptation of just lying down on the ground and letting himself sleep. He can't.
He doesn't quite remember why he can't, right now. But it's... it's important.]
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His magic sits, vibrating, just barely repressed at the edge of his consciousness. He can feel it reaching for Edward; grasping fingers that startle and surprise him. But then Oswald's eyes narrow, flicking briefly, panicked, over Edward's form. His magic has always drawn him towards poisoned rats, diseased creatures--the sick and the ill, wanting to sink itself into such things and twine itself around it with a need that Oswald has long repressed. It hadn't reached for Edward until now, but now it's stretching out its tendrils, especially towards that wound in his side--
Oswald sucks in a breath, shaky, before pressing his hand there] Just--hold still, Edward, I need to--[it's stilted, nervous, as he feels his magic seep out of him, work its way into whatever wound Edward sustained there, and wrap tightly around the infection, latching onto it like a hungry thing.]
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Not that it's helping him much. Staying awake is the only thing he's capable of doing now, anything else too arduous of a task to even think about.
And then there's... there's something on - no, in? - his side and it feels foreign and wrong and
he doesn't know what it is
nor does he have the energy to think about it
he can only let whatever is happening... happen]
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it's pain
that's pain that he's feeling.
It had blended in with the burning at first and he'd barely even noticed it anymore, because when everything hurts you almost don't notice it anymore. But this, this is sharp and fresh pain, cutting through the rest of it, making all the sensations clearer...
And Edward gasps, curling up, clutching at the ground as if that will help him any, but that feeling is all he can think about now and he needs it to stop...]
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He doesn't hear Oswald's apologies. Doesn't even realize this is Oswald's doing, honestly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, whatever part of him is still even capable of thought thinks that, oh, he must be dying right now. That would explain it.
And despite himself, despite all of his training where he learned to just accept pain, he can't keep a pained whimper from escaping him.]
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Come on--come on, Edward, it's out now, we have to get you to town--
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lies there, on the ground.]
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However, Edward's good at forcing himself past his limit. He can't focus his eyes or his hearing or even his mind. He can't quite understand what's happening right now, the whole world just seeming like a dark blur.
But he can move. He can... he can move. He has to. Has to? Yes. It's important. Someone needs him to. Someone... Someone important.]
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It's not too long but it honestly feels like forever before they reach the edge of the village--and the moment Oswald sees someone, he's calling out, hoarse, frantic]
Help--help! We need a doctor, immediately! Help!
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There's no keeping him upright anymore, now.]
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Hold on, Edward, just hold on, we made it, they're coming, okay? Please--[he's babbling at him, desperate almost, he can't lose him now--]
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And everything just... fades out, slowly, as consciousness finally leaves him.
Somehow, he lasted this long before passing out. Even while bleeding, burnt, and completely drained.]
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But better in a bed than dead, right???
Once he manages to get a look around the room, he'll find Oswald asleep with his head resting on his folded arms at the edge of the mattress. He looks almost paler than normal and there are dark bruises around his eyes but aside from that, he's fine. Edward managed to protect him quite well, it seems]
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He hisses loudly, louder than he wants, tightly gripping the... covers? So he's in a bed. And immediately, almost panicked, he looks around... and spots Oswald rather quickly.
There he is... He's okay. Oh thank goodness, he's okay. Immediately, the pain seems trivial. The only thing that matters is Oswald, after all. Now he just needs to... to get out of this bed, as soon as he can...
Slowly, despite the pain, he tries to prop himself up a little. Come on, Edward, this is nothing.]
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