driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Robb & you!
Broadcast: Voice
Action: Mostly at the Blue Fish
When: Today

Network – Voice
[When Robb speaks his voice sounds like that of a sick old man above his eighties. In his life he hasn’t been sick often but when it strikes it mostly manages to floor him at least for a couple of days.]

If there is anyone still in possession of anything that used to belong to my sister Arya, I would like to ask you if you can bring them to me. I stay at the Blue Fish. My name is Robb Stark, I am in charge of security. I am also her oldest brother.

You have my thanks.

[To those who come by to hand over Arya’s stuff or want to run into him – The Blue Fish]
[Robb is waiting for you at the docking station, dressed in the uniform belonging to his job as head of security. The only abnormal thing about him is that he looks pale and has a running nose.

You will be thanked for your donation and if you’re lucky he’ll sneeze in your face as well.]

[To those who want to come visit to fret over Robb and/or is a resident on the Blue Fish]
[Most of the day Robb will be found in his bed with the lights off and his head tucked away underneath the blankets. He has messaged his captain about his sickness and prefers to sleep it off.

So come fuss. He’ll probably be grouchy about it.]

[Action – closed to Bran]
[After Robb has taken a shower and changed into different clothes he actually feels a bit better. At least, good enough to pay his younger brother a visit. Just to check if he is still here, on this bloody ship.

Robb knocks twice.]

Bran? [And another knock.] It is me, Robb. [Robb is sure that Bran probably knows that it is him but just in case.] I need to speak to you. [Or well, just see him. Just knowing that he is allright.] It is about Arya...ah...

[The rest of the words disappear into a loud sneeze.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Robb doesn’t recognize her voice immediately. He blinks a couple of times before he sits up and moves to rest against the pillows. Lemons? Oh, Sansa would like that. Now if only Sansa would like the kitchen as well...]

That is kind of you. [His voice sounds tired and, to be honest, his vision is a little blurry.] My lady... But I do not think I can do much with them at this moment. [Gods be good, since when became talking such an ordeal?]

[Already, she can tell that he is straining himself. It reminds her far too much of Drogo, but the two situations are obviously different.]

No, of course not, but I thought perhaps it would be something the two of you could look forward to when you are well again.

[Setting the basket aside, she moves closer to his bedside. She hoped he wouldn't be angry at her for invading his space, but she couldn't help but feel concerned for him.]

Have you seen a maester?

[Robb huffs and reaches for the bottle of water. Fevers are a pain in the arse. They leave him alone with his own thoughts, and some of them do not even make sense.]

It is but a fever...I am sure it will pass. [He smiles a little before taking a sip from the bottle.] Our...maester...doctor is not here.

[He narrows his eyes and smiles a little.]

It is kind of you that you have come all the way for...to bring the lemons...

A fever... I see. [Dany wonders how he might react, should she try to help him in this situation. Lucky for her, she did not become ill. The only illness that seemed to befall her family was illness of the mind.]

Truly, the lemons were a convenient reason. We avoid one another quite readily but I thought that perhaps I could... try to mend fences, as is the saying.

[Tyrion had encouraged her to keep an open mind with the Starks and already she found herself getting along with his youngest sibling in the fleet.]

I am sorry to hear that one of your sisters has departed. You Starks all seem very close... and as the oldest, I can't imagine how much harder it is for you.

[She wonders if Viserys would have felt even a little sad if he had been in Robb's position and it had been her that disappeared.]

Hot cold...hot... [He murmurs the words softly and shrugs afterwards.] I have had it before...after I took an arrow... [It was Jeyne who healed him then. With her soft voice and some cloth, drenched in cool water. He can remember it quite clearly. Maybe, if he would close his eyes, she'd be there.]

You come to parley? I barely look presentable... [To emphasize that Robb plucks at the linen shirt he is wearing.] Ah... [Arya...] ...we are a dying breed... [He laughs a little when he says that.] ...What do you need me for, my lady?

Are you injured now? Or is it just an illness. [Dany looks about the room, spotting a cloth next to his water.]

A parlay can wait until you are well again.

[She won't admit that she's just trying to be friends or something close to it, with Robb. For now she settles for wetting the cloth and sitting closer to his bedside.]

You do not have a maester, and I do not get sick, not the same way as most others do. I don't mind standing in for an hour or two if you need it.

[She's already preparing herself for him to argue against it. There was no way he was getting her to budge on this. He clearly needed some tending to.]

[For a moment he moves to gaze at the scar on his arm. Where he had taken an arrow a long time ago.]

An unfortunate illness... [After those words his body decides that he should not talk that much and he has to take a moment to sink further into his pillows and close his eyes.] ...no injuries.

Worry not, I have survived worse. [Except death, he cannot survive that...] Allow me to sleep it off... [He remembers he has done a lot of sleeping when fever overcame him at his stay at the Crag.]

[While he makes himself comfortable, she takes the time to wet the cloth a bit and wring it out so that the water spread without spilling more than a drop or two. It was cool to the touch, though she had always run quite warm-blooded by nature.]

I'm not stopping you from sleeping, Lord Stark. [She makes a soft humming sound, a laugh, as she tests the cloth against his skin - starting with his forehead.]

[Robb closes his eyes while Dany rummages around inside his room. In a way it warms him that all these people care for him in such a way. Even strangers.

When the cool cloth touches his heated skin he sighs deeply and hums softly afterwards. It reminds him of Jeyne and he murmurs her name softly. Maybe only in fever dreams she can truly be here.]

[Honestly, Dany understood his pain all too well. She had no idea who Jeyne is, but she can hazard a guess that she's someone important to him. She'd had many a fever dream about Drogo and Rhaego and her brothers. Too many to count, really.]

Poor thing... you're burning up.

[He was overheated, even by her standards. She could see sweat that clung to his skin and part of her wants to find him cooler clothes but he seemed much more comfortable with his eyes closed and undisturbed that she tucks the idea away for later.

She takes the cloth and dabs it to the side of his neck. Her free hand rests to the side of his face, palm up.]

I am not.

[Once again he moves, blinking a couple of times before his eyes focus on her.]

I am not some poor thing. [He huffs in a stubborn way, frowning a little halfheartedly. But the moment she moves that cold cloth over his face he silences.

Maybe he was burning up, maybe his fever did become this bad.]

You can put me...if you...they have a shower here...just put it on its coldest and I will stand underneath it... That is so... I think I would like that...

You must have been very stubborn as a child, whenever you became ill.

[Daenerys lets a warm laugh escape, wringing out the cloth and placing it back in the cool water before dabbing it against his skin again. After a moment she lays it flat against his forehead again, smiling down at him amicably.]

Are you sure you could stand long enough to make the journey?

[Her hand rests against the cloth pressed to his skin, wondering if he was even making sense in all this. Was he planning on showering in his clothes? That would only make it worse. The thought of undressing him, however, was much more embarrassing even if he could probably use clothes that weren't covered in sweat. It wasn't the fact that he was a man that was embarrassing but who he was beyond that. Robb Stark would not thank Daenerys Targaryen for undressing him. If anything he would be offended, to be sure. That would do wonders for the current state of their relationship or lack there of.]

[Robb only hears her half. He narrows his eyes a little when she talks, trying to focus.]

Stubborn... [He gets that and nods. After that he lies still again, leaning into the cloth that she presses to his heated skin.] ...You are too kind... [Another nod.] ...It feels nice and cold. [He murmurs something he can’t even define by himself and pats her hand briefly.]

Hmm...hmm... [Of course Robb can do it. He has always been able to stand. At least, when he wasn’t sick and feverish.] ...wait a moment...

[Robb is not even thinking about the awkwardness of undressing and being in the presence of a young woman and all those things a young nobleman should pay attention to.

Slowly he moves to sit up, groaning when he notices that his shirt is sticking to his skin. Finally he turns to look at Daenarys, blinking.]

Ah...I think I am good enough... It would be folly to lie in bed all day, not? I am no lazy man. [Actually he is hardly a man.]

[Were this another person she might laugh at the situation. As it is, it's on the tip of her tongue to laugh at him just a little. His clothes cling to his skin and his auburn curls are a bit mussed up from laying in bed. Dare she say it was actually... endearing? Adorable? She can't think of a specific word but it makes her smile all the same. ]

No, of course you're not. Laziness isn't the word I would associate with you.

[Stubborn was still high up there on the list, though.]

I'll walk with you then, if you won't mind.

[Assuming he can make it on his feet. He still looked quite disheveled in his feverish state. Carefully, she takes his hands to guide him into standing once he's ready to do so. He was definitely no child, but he was definitely not nearly as much a 'man' as Drogo had been. Even so, seeing anyone so frail and ill left her stomach in knots with the memory of her husband to accompany it.]

[When Robb sits up he shivers heavily.]

I would not dare... I have a war to fight.. [After looking at her face he moves to look at his feet. They sure look a little far away.]

Aye...let me just... [Carefully he moves to stand on the ground, pausing only to blink at the feel of her hands curling around his.] Ngh... [When standing he moves to close his eyes again, breathing heavily while he starts to feel dizzy again.] A moment...my lady...

[It's on the tip of her tongue to ask what he means, but then it dawns on her almost as instantly as the thought crosses her mind. Honestly the thought makes her heart sink into her stomach.]

Even so, Kings are not infallible. You cannot fight a war if you are sick.

[Gently, she reaches to stroke his cheek in an attempt to comfort him through the dizzy spell as it came.]

Take your time.

[Seven Hells, how had she found herself so wrapped up in concern for him? Still, she lets him take his time and tell her himself when he is ready. When he is, she moves slowly away from the bed with him to the door leading out into the hall.]

Carefully... [If he falls over then that will just be a disaster in the making.]

[Robb laughs some sort of breathless laugh.]

I have fought a war with an arrow stuck in my arm. I can fight one with a fever as well. [But only after the world stops spinning.] ...Otherwise you can prepare a bath for me. [A bath full of ice cubes. That would be nice. When she touches his cheek he hums softly and mutters Jeyne’s name afterwards.

Still, walking is a little bit more difficult than he anticipated.]

I feel like an old man, Jeyne. [But then he blinks and realizes that this is not Jeyne. Jeyne’s hair is far more dark.] ...my lady.

Jeyne... you must miss her terribly.

[It's not said to mock him, only that she can understand the feeling. She's felt some measure of loneliness since Drogo's passing.]

Come on then. I can't have this Jeyne of yours left to worry after your wellbeing if I am to do anything about it.

[When they finally make it to the showers - taking their time to get him to stay on his feet - Dany can't help but feel her nerves returning. Robb would definitely be unhappy with her for broaching such personal parts of his life when they could hardly call one another friends, let alone allies. She had been cautious in getting him here, with hopefully very little awkwardness between them. Any stumbling would be kept to herself when he recovered.]

Right, then... [He's left standing there a moment in his small clothes that clung to his skin as she set about readying a bath for him, as cold as possible.]

[Robb nods slowly and closes his eyes.]

She is my lady wife... [He frowns a little, remembering that there was something about that. Ah, yes...he could not see her anymore.] ...I do not expect to see her anymore... [A shuddering sigh escapes his mouth and his body starts to shudder afterwards. Gods be good, this is one nasty fever.]

Yeah... [Her words make sense and he starts to shuffle after her, sometimes squeezing his eyes shut when the lights are too bright.

Once arrived Robb moves to sit again, breathing as if he just has run 3 miles without stopping. He plucks at his shirt and finally wiggles himself half out of it.]

A bath...that is a brilliant idea...my lady.

I'm sorry.

[She won't add that she expects the poor girl must mourn him every day. That would be too cruel to say. When Dany looks up at him again, her breath stops. She felt as if she was invading his privacy, even if she had offered to help him.]

Ah your... your breaches. If you like I could leave the room...?

[Why is she suddenly like a maid instead of a Queen? It wasn't becoming of her to lose her composure.]

[Robb is only hearing half of the things she says while he busies himself with his clothing. The more that will come off, the cooler it will become. And really, Robb can use some cold at this point.]

What is with my breeches? [He stares at his breeches for a moment before staring back at her.] Ah... [Then it dawns to him. Of course. He is alone here with a lady and he is about to expose himself...]

Gods...I... I could not show you my cock... [Then he shakes his head, remembering that he should not speak of cocks either.] You...ah... [He shivers.] If you turn your back to me I will...undress and wrap a cloth around it... [After that he stops talking...the world starts to spin around him again and he moves to lean against the wall, breathing heavily.]

You can barely stand! I-I'll do it. Please.

[She was more worried that he might keel over in the attempt more than anything, though her embarrassment was insurmountable all the same.]

I'm sorry... [She moves into his space again, practically pushing him to hold himself up against the wall before dropping to her knees. She finds a point on the wall to stare at while fighting momentarily with the lacings. There wasn't going to be any say in the matter on his end unless he stopped her.]

[For a moment in time Robb is very aware of that what is hanging between his legs. Gods be good, even though the Targaryens have stopped being kings, queens, princes and princesses a long time ago, this woman is still of very high birth. And fever or not, he cannot ask such a thing from her.

But then again the wall of the bathroom is cold and finally he moves to press himself against it, breathing heavily while trying to remember the last time he had such a fever. Probably at the Crag, after he had taken that arrow. The wound had festered a little, despite the maester’s help.

He shifts a little when she appears in front of him, her hands on the laces of his breeches.]

You should not...

[After a heavy huff he forces himself to stand up more straight.]

My lady if you... [His hands sneak to the front of his breeches so he can unlace them by himself.] It is not fitting... [His cheeks turn a little redder.]

I'm not asking for marriage, Lord Stark. I'm merely helping you like any nurse maid would.

[Though she realizes a bit late that quip might cost her the last shred of composure and she has to look more intently at the wall so as not to look at him. When his hands find hers and then the laces, she draws away immediately to rest them against her lap.]

I've never- Targaryens don't become ill. It's a blessing, but at the same time I don't know entirely what to do to help. I only want to help you.

[She looks up at him then, ignoring the nakedness and the vulnerable position she's put the both of them in.]

But you are no bloody nurse maid. You are the rumored dragon queen. That is royalty...of some sort...or...

[Or something like that. Wasn’t she? She was a Targaryen or maybe a Blackfyre...and well, that does not really matter.]

I am a man wed... [But as he speaks he sways a little on his legs, the look in his eyes becoming an unclear one.] Gods...please... [Robb realizes he has no time to fret over his cock and the presence of a lady. He is burning up, he absolutely needs to get naked so he can properly curl up inside one of the cooling boxes.

He barely listens to her words as he finally starts to strip down, kicking his breeches away as if he is in the greatest hurry.]

Starks get sick... As you can see...