queenofmay: (Bed - pumahmistress)
Many weeks of headache's had not led to their suddenly vanishing as Marian had long wished.

Instead it had led to an inevitable collapse after one of her classes.

She was flush with a high fever and nearly incoherent from the moment she'd fallen. It hadn't taken long for one of the medics in her new home to diagnose the problem. Her immune system, used to the troubles of a medieval British world, was not prepared to deal with a present era Britain, even a magical one.

They'd talked about magical cures, but the final decision had been that it would only be an option if the situation turned fatal. The illness wasn't looking deadly, simply hard because she'd never encountered anything of the like before. Given to run the course they said the immunity from her illness would serve her better if she was going to stay in Arch and visiting London Below.

The first few days were the hardest. She couldn't talk and she trashed, murmuring, sweating and being forced by someone she could hardly remember, except as a blur, to drink strange colored liquids.

The rest of the time was spent, somewhere in semi-lucid dreams or empty sleep, while her body recuperated. Exhaustion was semi-permanent for the course, but she had started looking better around the middle of the next week.

And it was then that Tom and Door had declared it safe for her to have other visitors.


queenofmay: (Default)

May 2014

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