Wolf Warrior (The Mórrigan's Wolf, Part 2) The Last Kingdom Fanfiction

21 - In Sickness and In Health

Finan lay in bed, his head swimming as it throbbed dully. The deep coughing began to cause his chest to ache, and he shivered despite the extra furs and blankets Faoladhean had placed on top of him. After she had settled Aodhán into a fitful sleep by wrapping him in the sling on her chest, Faoladhean sat on the edge of the bed, sponging Finan’s face with a damp rag. She tried to get him to drink some of the medicinal tea, but the bitter taste put him off, and he turned his head away from her.

“I can’t swallow, tastes awful,” he mumbled with a grimace.

“Finan, love, I know it does not taste pleasant, but you need to drink this. It will help. Plus, you are burning to the touch - you need to drink this to help lower your fever.” Finan shook his head and mumbled something unintelligible. Faoladhean stroked his forehead with the back of her fingers and audibly sucked in a breath. “Finan, please. I need you to drink some of this. You feel hotter than I have ever felt another person. Please,” she pleaded with him. She slipped a hand behind his head to encourage him to sit up slightly, and pressed the cup to his mouth. A sigh of relief escaped her when Finan finally took a small drink, then immediately grimaced. Slowly, Finan drank down the tea while Aodhán fitfully slept against her chest.

And that was how their night continued, Faoladhean attempting to nurse both Finan and Aodhán through terrible fevers and deep, wheezing coughs. She couldn’t recall a time in which she had ever felt another person’s body feel so unnaturally hot with fever, and it scared her that both of them carried so much heat. Though she was loathe to do so, Faoladhean had to take Aodhán out of the sling, as his intense body heat was causing her to sweat; he began to fuss and whine almost immediately when she took him from the sling and laid him beside Finan on the bed. Both of them laid listlessly, coughing occasionally, great wracking coughs that would leave them gasping afterward. So it went, on and on, she continued trying to get the medicinal tea into them, and wipe them down with cool rags, speaking softly to both of them the entire time she worked.

When both Finan and Aodhán had settled a bit, Faoladhean sat in a chair beside the bed, elbows propped on her knees, her chin resting on her knuckles. Her thoughts turned back to her mother's lessons on herbs so many years earlier. Ma, what do I do? Did I get the right blend? Why does it not seem to be working? She sighed and closed her eyes, beginning to feel exhausted from the stress of hours of trying to nurse her family through the darkest hours of the night.

A loud, anxious whimper pulled Faoladhean from the uneasy sleep she had fallen into while hunched in the chair beside the bed. Her eyes flew open as she stared at the bed in sleepy disorientation. The confusion cleared quickly as she saw Finan beginning to thrash around; she realized then that his eyes were open, and he had sat himself up against the headboard. His face was flushed and sweaty, and his chest heaved with ragged breaths in between mumbled words she couldn’t quite make out.

“Finan? What is it?” Faoladhean reached over to grab his hand, anxiety causing her pulse to race.

Finan jerked his hand away from her, his eyes wide as if in fear. “No! I will not let you take me again!”

Faoladhean froze and stared at Finan, trying to understand what was happening. “Finan, love, what are you talking about?”

He looked at Faoladhean, or rather through her, and shook his head rapidly. “I am not going back, Conall! You cannot make me!” Finan’s raspy voice began to raise and his face became angry as he spoke to his brother, or some specter thereof.

“Finan, love, Conall is not here,” Faoladhean spoke softly and tried to wipe his sweating brow with a damp linen cloth again. She had heard stories of fever delirium but never witnessed it herself; she knew, with a twist of anxiety in her gut, that it had to be what was happening to Finan.