Disclaimer: I don't own the Royals, its plot, or its characters. It belongs to E!. Disclaimer applies to all chapters.

Eleanor sighed crossly and kicked at her blue covers, crossing her arms and huffing. She absolutely hated being sick and it was all Liam's fault. If the idiot hadn't gone running around in the rain with Ophelia, he never would've gotten a cold, and he never would've passed it on to her. On top of everything, Jasper was sick as well (probably Liam's fault too) so she didn't even have anything close to entertainment. Well, unless you counted her bitter volleys with her mother. Those were often entertaining.

She groaned theatrically, eying her table laden with drugs. Nothing appealed to her. And then she remembered something that Robert used to bring her when she was little and sick. Suddenly, all Eleanor craved was a bowl of hot cream of chicken soup. She thought about asking her gargoyle of a guard, but he'd probably refuse or not answer her. After all, he was absolutely nothing like Jasper.

Grabbing a long black sweater, she wrapped it around herself and headed down to the kitchens to see if she could find a can of soup.

Eleanor made a few stops in various rooms along the way to blow her nose. With a small grin of satisfaction, she dropped a few used tissues in Queen Helena's bedroom, tucking two under the thick duvet for good measure. Even if she was sick, Eleanor knew she could still irritate her mother to no end.

She stumbled down the stairs and coughed, no one paying much attention as this was apparently assumed to be usual behavior for the princess. Eleanor paused on one of the landings to catch her breath and try tweeting.

'Sick. This effing sucks' she posted. Less than a minute later the tweet popped up as 'so happy today'. Eleanor didn't think she had hated Rachel more than that particular moment.

Tucking the phone back into her sweater pocket, Eleanor continued to make her way down the stairs into the kitchen.

The kitchens were surprisingly quiet and Eleanor welcomed the silence. Normally the kitchens were bustling, but today there were only a few people milling around, poking at pots on stoves.

After almost ten minutes, the princess finally found the soup cans. There was only one rather dusty can on the shelf and to Eleanor's delight; it was cream of chicken. The kind she liked, with vegetables and chicken instead of only chicken. She was just reaching for it when she saw a shadow and her head bumped into something hard.

"Ow" she groaned, rubbing her fingers lightly against her scalp.

There was a similar sound from whoever had intercepted her reach. Eleanor cracked an eye open and promptly groaned again.

"You" she ground out.

"Yeah, pleased to see you too" Jasper muttered, his hand massaging his temple. He sniffed and ran a hand tiredly over his face.

"You have a thick skull," Eleanor muttered. She brushed her hair back with one hand and stood up with a wince.

"So do you. Though we both knew that" Jasper glared at her.

"You can't say things like that. I'm the princess," she snapped. Bumping heads with Jasper had given her a headache and arguing with him was not helping.

"Thanks for the daily reminder" was Jasper's sarcastic reply.

"Charming even when you're sick" the princess growled, "and I believe that's mine," she said as she snatched the can of soup from Jasper's grasp.

"You know, you should share," he complained as he followed her over to an empty stove.

"Keep quiet" Eleanor ordered as she slammed a pot on the stove with enough force to make both of them wince at the noise.

Dumping the soup in the pot, she flicked the stove on and halfheartedly pushed a spoon around the liquid. Jasper had slumped against the edge of the counter, eyes half open.

"Cold in here" he muttered, folding his arms tightly around his chest in a familiar way.

"Well I'm not the one who only wore a t-shirt down here…one that fits…extremely…well" Eleanor had to force her eyes away from the way the shirt stretched across his chest.

Her bodyguard managed a grin at that comment. Eleanor rolled her eyes and tugged her sweater tighter around her slim frame as she reluctantly turned her attention back to the soup.

She reached up to grab two bowls out of one of the cabinets.

"Go get two spoons" she ordered Jasper.

"What?"

"Well I'm not eating soup with my fingers" Eleanor pointed out as she waved the stirring spoon in the vague direction of a few drawers. Jasper sighed and pulled open a drawer, grabbing a couple of spoons and depositing them on the counter next to the bowls.

"Thanks" Eleanor dumped half of the soup in each bowl.

She blew lightly on her spoonful, watching as Jasper eagerly gulped down his first spoonful only to start coughing as the scalding soup burned his tongue. They stayed in a comfortable near silence for a few minutes, the only noises being the light whispers of breath as they cooled their soup.

"Come on" Eleanor said softly, setting her bowl down and wrapping her fingers around his wrist and dragging him (as best she could, there wasn't much resistance) towards the stairs.

Jasper hadn't made any protests (shockingly) about getting into bed without sex. Eleanor had handed him some tissues as he sneezed and looked up at her with miserable eyes. She wasn't used to feeling responsible for someone else and thrust the tissues at him, averting her eyes. He took them without a word and blew his nose.

He fell asleep soon after and Eleanor crawled into bed next to him. The bodyguard was sleeping on his side, facing Eleanor. Asleep, the tension was gone from his face and he actually looked relaxed for once. Eleanor looked up at his surprisingly peaceful face and smiled.

Snuggled against Jasper's warm body, Eleanor realized that this was all that mattered.

-end-

A/N: Hope you enjoyed and please review! I binge-watched the first 3 episodes of this show and am now hopelessly obsessed with it. Obviously I ship Jasper and Eleanor ;)