[Edward... shifts, a little. He doesn't try to sit up or anything, but he carefully adjusts his pillow so that his head is angled in a way where he can keep an eye on Oswald without having to lift his head up.
It's all he can do. It's not enough, but it helps.]
[.....okay, yes, that's alright at least.] Good. Now get some rest, and if you feel yourself falling asleep, please don't try and fight it. I'm going to have some light soup sent up in a bit.
[And Edward is just... going to lie there. Watching over Oswald as best he can.
Which isn't as much as he'd like. Edward's trying hard to stay awake, but he's a little bit in and out of consciousness right now. He's... He's trying.]
[it takes a bit for Oswald to wake--he's always been a heavy sleeper and an even slower waker, and now is no exception. He sits up, slowly, rubbing at his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He's dressed in a pair of pajamas, and blearily pushes to his feet to shuffle over towards Edward, sitting in the chair that's been pulled up to the side of the bed.
He doesn't bother to stifle a yawn, even as he glances down at Edward to see if he's awake or asleep]
[Looks like Edward has... not quite, but almost drifted off. Enough that he's not very aware that Oswald's up and awake, eyes mostly, but not entirely, closed.
Someone's been trying to force himself to stay awake.
[Edward's eyes blink open at that and he turns his head.]
Ah-- Your Highness... [He almost tries to sit up, instinctively, but he remembers himself just in time to just... shift, instead.] I didn't realize you were awake...
[asldkfhsodihfs] I--I feel like this is something I should've known, Edward! [his voice cracks, and he's looking increasingly upset] That's--and now this happened--I thought you were going to die, and you're telling me that you've been hurt worse than that?!
[Oswald...fumbles. Sputters a bit.] Well, yes, but--! [how does he even put this into words] But nothing like this has happened before! [he swallows, then, because if Edward has had worse, then--] At least...not that anyone's told me. Or that I've seen! Or that you've told me!
[and for a moment, Oswald can't do anything but stare at him. He didn't want him to worry. Sweet, almost, if it wasn't so incredibly mind boggling now. And horrifying, even. Terrifying. Infuriating.]
...you didn't want me to worry. [deadpan, almost] You...you didn't want me to worry?! [escalating now, and he can feel his magic starting to buzz under his skin, restless as he gets worked up,] You almost died now and you've had worse before? Meaning you've almost died before! [his voice rises up the octave in his distress] And what if you had?! Would I ever even have known?! [and there--his voice cracks and breaks, and he can feel his magic clawing at his fingertips, starting to seep out of him, perhaps to start crawling along the floorboards---and Oswald sucks in a breath, yanking it back, burying his face in his hands and taking deep lungfuls of air, trying to calm himself, to get it back under control]
[Edward is quiet, even as Oswald gets more and more worked up. There's a small part of him, inside, that immediately shrinks and cowers at the raised voice. A fear of anger that never quite leaves him.
But the rest of him stays calm, so it doesn't show, other than Edward averting his eyes briefly.]
...I don't know. That would have been up to the castle staff to inform you of, I imagine. [Out of his hands. Things are different, now. But now if anything happens to him, Oswald will know immediately.] I am sorry, your Highness. I didn't mean to cause you any distress...
Edward would've just disappeared with no explanation. Just stopped being in the castle one day and Oswald would've assumed he'd just quit. That he was done with his job and wanted to do something else. He can just imagine it and it's something that's so incredibly plausible and as such, also incredibly distressing. His magic wraps around his throat like a vice, wanting to crawl out from his mouth and expand outward like a scream; he feels too small for his body, like he can't contain whatever it is that's bubbling inside him, he can't--]
You would've just disappeared--[his voice, strangled still, muffled by his hands, and he can feel black spilling out onto his palms but they're pressed to his face and Oswald sucks in a breath, drawing it back inside himself, control, control, and he's shaking with it, pushing unsteadily to his feet, stumbling for the bathroom. He slams the door once he's inside leaning against it, forehead pressed against the flat planks, fingers digging into the wood--black curling at the tips and into claws, raking down and gauging lines in their wake as he sinks to the floor, trembling still]
[But Oswald is going, he's walking, heading for the bathroom. And Edward blinks, staring at the door. He hadn't thought this would be so upsetting to him. And it shouldn't be, really. If Edward had died, then... that would have just meant he was doing his job right, but wasn't quite good enough. There would have been someone else, surely.
...He hopes, anyway.
Really, the reason doesn't matter. Right now, Oswald is upset. Very, very upset. Anything going on with Edward just seems inconsequential.
Edward takes a deep breath... and he pushes himself up. The pain is unimportant right now. He's moving slowly, at least, so he hopefully doesn't cause any damage. But he has to... he has to get to Oswald.
He manages to get his legs on the side of the bed. Now he just has to actually stand...]
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[Edward... shifts, a little. He doesn't try to sit up or anything, but he carefully adjusts his pillow so that his head is angled in a way where he can keep an eye on Oswald without having to lift his head up.
It's all he can do. It's not enough, but it helps.]
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[oh he's absolutely going to fight it, he has to keep an eye on Oswald. it's fine. it's FINE.]
Thanks...
[He just... keeps watching Oswald. It's the only thing in this room that matters to him.]
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Which isn't as much as he'd like. Edward's trying hard to stay awake, but he's a little bit in and out of consciousness right now. He's... He's trying.]
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He doesn't bother to stifle a yawn, even as he glances down at Edward to see if he's awake or asleep]
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Someone's been trying to force himself to stay awake.
And failing at it.]
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Edward?
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[Edward's eyes blink open at that and he turns his head.]
Ah-- Your Highness... [He almost tries to sit up, instinctively, but he remembers himself just in time to just... shift, instead.] I didn't realize you were awake...
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Ah... I'm alright, really.
[because you know that doesn't sound like bullshit]
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[He frowns a little, shifting up just a little. The movement hurts, but it's not too much.]
It isn't important.
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...I'm your bodyguard. I'm supposed to protect you, if you're attacked. No matter what.
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...you didn't want me to worry. [deadpan, almost] You...you didn't want me to worry?! [escalating now, and he can feel his magic starting to buzz under his skin, restless as he gets worked up,] You almost died now and you've had worse before? Meaning you've almost died before! [his voice rises up the octave in his distress] And what if you had?! Would I ever even have known?! [and there--his voice cracks and breaks, and he can feel his magic clawing at his fingertips, starting to seep out of him, perhaps to start crawling along the floorboards---and Oswald sucks in a breath, yanking it back, burying his face in his hands and taking deep lungfuls of air, trying to calm himself, to get it back under control]
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But the rest of him stays calm, so it doesn't show, other than Edward averting his eyes briefly.]
...I don't know. That would have been up to the castle staff to inform you of, I imagine. [Out of his hands. Things are different, now. But now if anything happens to him, Oswald will know immediately.] I am sorry, your Highness. I didn't mean to cause you any distress...
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If that's case, he probably wouldn't have known.
Edward would've just disappeared with no explanation. Just stopped being in the castle one day and Oswald would've assumed he'd just quit. That he was done with his job and wanted to do something else. He can just imagine it and it's something that's so incredibly plausible and as such, also incredibly distressing. His magic wraps around his throat like a vice, wanting to crawl out from his mouth and expand outward like a scream; he feels too small for his body, like he can't contain whatever it is that's bubbling inside him, he can't--]
You would've just disappeared--[his voice, strangled still, muffled by his hands, and he can feel black spilling out onto his palms but they're pressed to his face and Oswald sucks in a breath, drawing it back inside himself, control, control, and he's shaking with it, pushing unsteadily to his feet, stumbling for the bathroom. He slams the door once he's inside leaning against it, forehead pressed against the flat planks, fingers digging into the wood--black curling at the tips and into claws, raking down and gauging lines in their wake as he sinks to the floor, trembling still]
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[But Oswald is going, he's walking, heading for the bathroom. And Edward blinks, staring at the door. He hadn't thought this would be so upsetting to him. And it shouldn't be, really. If Edward had died, then... that would have just meant he was doing his job right, but wasn't quite good enough. There would have been someone else, surely.
...He hopes, anyway.
Really, the reason doesn't matter. Right now, Oswald is upset. Very, very upset. Anything going on with Edward just seems inconsequential.
Edward takes a deep breath... and he pushes himself up. The pain is unimportant right now. He's moving slowly, at least, so he hopefully doesn't cause any damage. But he has to... he has to get to Oswald.
He manages to get his legs on the side of the bed. Now he just has to actually stand...]
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