He could tell he still had a fever when he woke the next morning. The headache had not lessened, either—it throbbed behind his eyeballs—and when he tried to go through his usual training routine, the first few weights left him breathless. He had to sit on a bench with his head in his hands until the dizziness passed, wincing and coughing, his chest aching when he gasped.

But he was a Royal Guard of Radiant Garden, and there was work to be done, fever or no. Aeleus washed away the taste of a couple of potions with juice, not having the stomach for a proper breakfast, and by noon he had managed to get through the morning's duties, if slowly, and with a weaker stride than usual. Dilan made no comment on how hard he coughed, though his thick eyebrows raised every time he did. Braig, being Braig, was more direct when he met him in the gardens.

"You don't look so hot." He smirked at the way Aeleus leaned one shoulder against the stone wall for support. "Maybe you oughta take it easy today, eh?"

"I'll be fine." Aeleus disliked how the gunk in his chest made him sound—stuffed-up and hollow, as though his own voice were echoing inside him. "It's only a cold."

"Heh. Suit yourself, dude."

But the fever rose. Aeleus made the rounds again with difficulty, and though his coughing fits were infrequent, they felt like a knife being driven between his ribs. When he sat down for a breather, a coughing spasm seized him that left him shaking for half a minute afterward, and he let himself rest for a while, pressing the heel of a gloved hand to his sweaty forehead.

Though he had no appetite, the lack of food caught up with him. Drinking water was not enough to make his hands stop trembling as he pulled the south gate closed behind him, and his gaze passed over the flowerbeds as if seeing them in a dream, their colors blending together like smears on a painter's canvas as he headed up to the castle. When he reached it he gave in at last, sitting down in an out-of-the-way corridor with his back to the wall, eyes closed, breathing heavily. A little dizzy now; it made the shaking worse. The fever felt like being drunk.

He did not know how long he sat there before he forced himself to stand, but when he did, the world lurched unpleasantly. Aeleus held onto the wall with one hand and muttered something unintelligible through his teeth, not a curse but something similar, a bead of sweat skittering down the side of his face. He staggered halfway down the corridor before his knees buckled, and he caught himself against the wall, sliding down it to sit again, thinking dazedly through a cloud of fever that he'd get up in a minute. He never had the sensation of falling asleep.

It took Aeleus perhaps half a minute to realize he had climbed back to consciousness. The small hand on his forehead withdrew itself, and when Aeleus raised his head he found a bright blue eye gazing into his own. He straightened, pressing his shoulders to the cold wall, the sweat that had pooled in the small of his back dampening his uniform as he adjusted position.

Ienzo said nothing, but his mouth was curled into a tight frown, and when he saw Aeleus had woken he reached up and felt his forehead again. It took everything Aeleus had to stifle a cough.

"Ienzo?...Ienzo!"

The voice from down the hall made Ienzo look over, though Aeleus didn't; despite everything, the sound was familiar.

"How many times do I have to tell you, child: don't go wandering off every time I..."

Even trailed off at the sight of Aeleus, and Aeleus forced himself to his feet with difficulty, keeping one hand on the wall.

"Aeleus. Are you all right?"

"No." He passed the other hand over his clammy face, wondering how bad he looked. Even frowned; Aeleus saw two of him.

"I'll let His Lordship know not to expect you for the rest of the day, then."

"Thank you."

His words had a slur to them, and he coughed hard, bending nearly double. Even took a step back, eying him warily.

"Clearly you need rest." He turned away. "Ienzo, come along now. You've work to do."

He headed back up the hallway at once, but Ienzo did not follow, instead reaching out and touching Aeleus's leg. Aeleus was not a man who smiled often, but he forced a small one for the sake of the moment.

"Don't mind me. I'll be fine."

He put a hand on top of Ienzo's head, intending to be reassuring, but the gesture almost made him lose his balance. Ienzo's visible eye stayed wide as he watched him limp away.

Dilan brought him dinner, and he forced himself to eat it, but it did not satisfy him. He slept fitfully, dreaming bad dreams, and the dawn through his window did not rouse him like usual. At one point he had a dream of voices and loud knocking, but it stirred him only a little, and when he half-woke early in the afternoon he found a tray of food gone cold on the nightstand. He ate what he could, which wasn't much. He needed water most, and drank it in gulps.

Again he fell asleep. The fever warped time, so that he drifted in and out of consciousness with no sense of how long it was taking, or whether the sounds that filtered through the fog were real or hallucinations.

There you are, child. What's gotten into you today?...You can't sit and read in here. You'll catch whatever he has.

Ienzo, I mean it. He's a grown man, he hardly needs your supervision to get well. Don't make this difficult.

Very good. Now come along.

When a coughing fit woke him in the evening, he found several books on the nightstand. He was too weak to read them, but appreciated the gesture.

"Aeleus is still ill, I take it?"

Dilan licked his thumb and turned the page of the newspaper as he asked this. Braig's voice echoed slightly when he replied, as he was rummaging headfirst in the icebox.

"Guess so, if he isn't up yet. Anybody seen him this morning?"

No one answered the question, though Even continued talking to himself as he stirred sugar into his coffee. Dilan glanced to him, then back to the paper, then up again, watching Even fuss at Ienzo, who had barely touched his breakfast.

"Really, Ienzo, what's the matter with you? Eat."

Ienzo pushed his scrambled eggs around his plate with a fork. When he looked up, Dilan caught his eye, and they shared a long look before Dilan grimaced and peeled away the back page of the paper containing the day's crossword puzzle, sliding it across the table to the young boy.

"He'll miss this, I imagine."

Ienzo thanked him with a nod. He smoothed out the creases against the tabletop before folding the page neatly and sticking it in the pocket of his lab coat, taking care not to bend the puzzle.

By noon Aeleus managed to haul himself up long enough to shower and change, though it took great effort, and he collapsed into bed again right afterward. He'd coughed so much that his diaphragm hurt when he breathed too deeply, and he lay on his back with a washcloth pressed to his forehead, his eyes closed; if he left them open too long the ceiling started to shift.

He didn't hear anything—perhaps he'd fallen asleep for a bit—but when he opened his eyes again a chair had been pulled up to the bedside. Ienzo sat cross-legged in it, a large book splayed open in his lap, his lab coat hung neatly over the chair back. His long bangs swayed as his gaze moved across the page, and Aeleus watched him read for a few minutes, trying not to cough.

"You should be at your lessons."

Ienzo's head jerked up at the sudden croaking voice. He blinked as if disoriented, hoisting himself back into reality after the book, and Aeleus shifted, trying unsuccessfully to rest his head at an angle against the pillow, shivering with fever-chill. It was hard to focus on the boy's face, blurred as it was.

"Even will be upset."

Ienzo scowled. He closed the book, taking note of the page he'd been on, and slid off the chair, leaving the book on the seat. Aeleus winced, shifting again, and coughed so hard it pained him.

"Master Ansem wouldn't want you to skip your lessons, either."

The boy glanced away, his scowl wavering, but then he looked back defiantly and scrambled up to sit beside Aeleus on the bed. Aeleus's admonishment had been too weak and hoarse to mean much, and in any case there hadn't been real displeasure in it; he was too sick to muster up a lie of that magnitude, and knew Ienzo knew it.

Ienzo pulled a thermometer out of his pocket. Aeleus did his best not to cough while it was in his mouth, and when it beeped Ienzo frowned at the results, the number clearly displeasing him. He wrote it down on a scrap of paper, then slid off the bed and stuck the paper into a pocket of his lab coat, as if it were important and he would need it later. Then he clambered back into the chair and resettled himself with his book.

Aeleus fell asleep within an hour, his clogged breathing loud in the small room. Ienzo stayed until Even came to fetch him, and before he left he set the crossword on the nightstand with a pen. Not a pencil—Aeleus liked the challenge.

Hunger woke Aeleus early the next morning, which he took as a good sign, though the fever hadn't broken yet. Still, it seemed to have lessened. He toyed with the idea of trying to go downstairs, but decided against it when he stumbled on his way back from the bathroom, catching himself against the doorway. Very strange, being weak. He didn't like it in the slightest.

There was a crossword on the nightstand, he realized.

"Whatcha need, kiddo?"

Braig had finally noticed Ienzo watching him set food onto the tray beside him on the counter. Ienzo couldn't see over the countertop, but stared hard nonetheless, and Braig grinned down at him. They'd all learned to 'speak Ienzo' to some degree—that is, to read his silences.

"What, you wanna take it up to him?"

Ienzo nodded. Braig laughed.

"All right, fine. Saves me a trip. Here ya go, squirt—don't spill anything."

Ienzo accepted the tray solemnly, balancing it with great concentration.

The morning passed in silence. Aeleus sat propped up in bed with his back to several pillows, coughing over his crossword, the empty tray set forward in his lap; Ienzo read in the golden light that came through the window by the bed, dust motes swirling in the sunbeams that fell across the pages. Their comfortable silence broke when Even stuck his head through the door.

"You can't keep coming here, child, you'll catch whatever he has." His thin lips pressed into a scowl as he strode inside. "This is the last straw. Aeleus, I'll thank you to remind him of his responsibilities."

Aeleus's response dissolved into a round of coughing. Ienzo didn't seem in the mood to put up a fight, anyway; as Even lectured him he wordlessly gathered up his things, so that when Aeleus finished coughing he found Ienzo standing at his bedside, hardly tall enough to see over the edge of it, watching his shoulders shake.

"I'm not going anywhere," Aeleus said hoarsely.

Ienzo left behind a fresh pair of books, and a tin of chamomile tea from the kitchens. Aeleus drizzled honey into a cup of it as he started on the first volume.

"Are you paying attention? Ienzo."

Ienzo started, if only slightly. It was still enough to make Even raise an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, for heaven's sake...How many times must I tell you? Aeleus is perfectly all right."

Ienzo said nothing.

"But what if you fall ill?" Even continued, the sleeves of his lab coat rustling as he gestured. "How pleasant do you think that will be, hm? And you'll have nothing to blame but your own carelessness."

Again Ienzo said nothing. Even understood it as a reply, and huffed.

"You're incorrigible, child. Stop worrying."

The evening passed much as the morning had, though Aeleus had finished the crossword, so that they both read by lamplight instead of sunlight once the sun faded away. Aeleus found he wasn't coughing as much as he had been, though when it happened it still hurt, and he had to fight to compose himself afterwards. The fever flared up again, but not as badly as before; he had a feeling it would break soon.

Ienzo sat curled in his chair, Aeleus not having let him sit on the side of the bed ("you really will get sick"). Tonight's book was too difficult for him, but he didn't find that daunting, instead allowing himself to linger over the words as many times as needed to decipher their meaning. A few times, however, context failed him entirely, and he frowned as he pushed the book across Aeleus's lap, pointing at the offending word. Aeleus's definitions were succinct, and never condescending.

When Aeleus nodded off, the book he'd been reading slipped from his grasp onto the bed. Ienzo put a bookmark in it and set it aside, then stood on his chair and pulled a faded blanket out of Aeleus's lap, tucking it over his broad shoulders. It fell down, and the boy pulled it up again twice more, returning to his book only when he was satisfied the blanket would stay in place.

Ansem found them both asleep, when he at last made the time to drop by. He carried Ienzo away in his arms, chuckling.

The fever had gone when Aeleus woke. He knew it at once, and though his chest still ached when he sat up, the weakness that pierced him was the weakness of hunger, not of sickness that weighed down every limb. Dawn had broken, so by his usual standards he had already slept in, but perhaps there was still some breakfast to be had.

He found Braig with his boots propped onto the kitchen table, leaning back in his chair.

"Morning, dude." He saluted with his cup of coffee. "You still kickin'?"

As Aeleus sank into a chair, Even and Ienzo appeared from the hall, Even talking animatedly and Ienzo trotting along behind. Aeleus's presence in the kitchen netted an offhanded "good to see you up" from Even, who then continued whatever lecture he'd been on originally without missing a beat. Ienzo broke away from him to approach Aeleus, gazing up into the tall man's face.

"Thank you for keeping an eye on me." Aeleus said it as sincerely as he would have to an adult. "I appreciate it."

Ienzo studied his features intently, looking for the flush of fever or a trickle of sweat; today there was nothing. Satisfied, he gave a small sigh—an unusual sound, for him—and Aeleus had the sense that if they'd been alone, he might have gotten a quick hug.

"...and frankly, you're lucky you didn't catch whatever it was yourself," Even finished. He tried to add a postscript, but instead broke into a spasm of coughing.