queenofmay: (Bed - pumahmistress)
[personal profile] queenofmay
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.

(no subject)

Date: 2007-09-30 03:22 pm (UTC)
landlesslord: (Default)
From: [personal profile] landlesslord
He read on, hoping that listening was not too much of an exertion for the maid in her sickbed.

"You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride;
you have stolen my heart
with one glance of your eyes,
with one jewel of your necklace.
"

Guy shifted uncomfortably. This was just a passage from the Bible. Not some divine announcement.


Wasn't it?

He continued, without pause, avoiding Marian's gaze.

"How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride!
How much more pleasing is your love than wine,
and the fragrance of your perfume than any spice!

Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride;
milk and honey are under your tongue.
The fragrance of your garments is like that of Lebanon.

You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride;
you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.
"

(no subject)

Date: 2007-10-02 09:16 pm (UTC)
landlesslord: (Default)
From: [personal profile] landlesslord
Guy read on, trying not to think too much of how the descriptions of Solomon's beloved could also be applied to his belo...Marian and dwelling even less, in his thoughts, on the racier imagery and metaphor.


It wasn't appropriate. With Marian so ill, at least.


He glanced over at her. At least she did not know what he was very much not thinking about and seemed to be falling asleep. The rest would do her good and as Guy came to the end of the chapter he quietly stopped, hoping that she would not wake at his ceasing.

(no subject)

Date: 2007-10-04 09:19 pm (UTC)
landlesslord: (Default)
From: [personal profile] landlesslord
He had started to carefully re-wrap the book but, at the movement, Guy's breath stills and only resumes when he can see that Marian remains slumbering.

Satisfied that she was still asleep, he started to rise to leave and leaning closer to the bed, brushed the hair away from her face as gently as he could. Being near Marian had never seemed this peaceful before.

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queenofmay

May 2014

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