Chapter Text
Will knew what he was getting into when he decided Louis would be kept under house arrest within the castle walls. Although he had to admit, the sheer contrast of his people cheering for him one moment while clamouring for Louis’ head the next was… a sight to behold. This doesn't include the times he would occasionally encounter the man's supporters; calling him a true comrade, a merciful soul, and many other flowery praises he didn't pay much attention to. Those particular folk were few and far between, but Will can't help but feel baffled each time he encounters one.
The young Euchronian king would often find himself swamped with paperwork involving palatial duties and the people's needs. It was why he would sometimes wander around the kingdom aimlessly, much to Hulkenberg’s chagrin. There was a certain limit to what he would do each day, lest he drive himself insane – he could only wonder how the rulers of eld could deal with such boredom. Despite the tiredness that would consume him by the time he tucks himself into plush bed sheets, Will feels an immense joy in being able to help those in need and ease their fears. These things may be small compared to the big picture, but every little step counts toward making Euchronia a haven for all tribes, where no one would face unjust treatment because of discrimination and prejudice. The Six Partisans, his closest companions, also play a huge role.
But no matter how packed his schedule was, he would always visit Louis’ room an hour before midnight.
“Excuse me,” Will whispers as he slowly enters the chamber. “I know you’re still asleep, so I’ll make this quick.”
Anyone would wonder why the king would spend the last of his waking hours with a traitor who almost brought total devastation and ruin into the world. In truth, it was the only time he could reliably monitor Louis’ condition without any conflicts with his busy schedule. He was relieved to have the foresight to look for a licensed healer as soon as they arrived back in Grand Trad, there’s only so much healing magic could do as Will was by no means a professional. Case in point, he recalls using a revival spell from the Healer Archetype he’d received from little Maria yet what only greeted him was the unchanged, unconscious body of Louis Guiabern.
Will has never felt such hopelessness since their last proper encounter.
“The healer said I’ve done well to keep you clean and comfortable,” He quietly paces around the bed, a nervous habit. “You must be sick of all the prodding and feeding I’ve been doing. But I can’t let you just… I don’t want to see you suffering in silence.”
Will tells himself to breathe in and out. To inhale and exhale – like what Louis is barely capable of right now – and relax. It’s almost pitiful how he’s still so scared of Louis despite the fact he’s doing nothing besides resting. It’s been several weeks now and yet barely anything has changed. The most active thing Louis has done so far was the rare noise , like a low hum or muffled mumbling. The healer reassured him, on several occasions, that Louis was fine and it was perfectly normal for him to be worried. After all, he’d never played the role of a caregiver in this context before. The constant movement and travel he’s done during the Tournament also played a part in it, maybe that was why he was so restless. He guessed that he was not quite used to settling down yet.
“I don’t care if you’re laughing at me right now for being a ‘weakling’ in your eyes after everything that has happened. Is it so hard for you to believe that someone cares for you? Hell, I saw Basilio pass by a few days ago and I saw the mute solemnity in his eyes. This was one of your former men, one whose brother you’ve killed , and yet he continues to cook the food I give you when he could have easily refused.” Will could feel his eyes getting blurry, was it from tiredness or unshed tears? He couldn’t quite tell. Not that it mattered, Louis couldn’t even hear him anyway.
“...Were you happy when you killed the old Sanctifex?” Will didn’t even say the late minister’s name, but it felt like he tasted ash in his mouth. “That man who ruined our lives? All because of his unjustified hatred against us Elda?”
No one answered. The only sound in the room was their out-of-sync breathing.
This will not be the first or the last time Will’s endless questions have gone unanswered. But the young king expected that only a traitor like him could torment him even as he does absolutely nothing. But when all’s said and done, no matter how often Will’s voice goes unheard, he always looks after the inscrutable man before him. It hasn’t changed the way he would carefully adjust the other’s position to prevent soreness, the way he would magically administer medicated meals or the way he would gently pat down with a soaked rag and a soft towel. The only thing Will hated more than Louis Guiabern was the flawed society they lived in that led to far too many tragedies and countless pain and suffering. If he truly had the integrity befitting a ruler, he wouldn’t give up on Louis despite the atrocities that he has done.
But that’s far too idealistic, isn’t it? Too naive even?
It doesn’t matter now. You made the choice yourself. Now stick to it.
“I’ve tarried for too long again,” Will says meekly as he recognizes his bad habit. “I really should be leaving now, but I haven’t forgotten the healer’s orders… as much as I still despise you.”
The young king finally looked at the traitor, the latter’s body was so pale and unmoving that he could easily be mistaken for a corpse, but that didn’t deter him from fulfilling his part of the routine. He uses a bare hand to touch Louis’ forehead, neck, and wrist. The same blackened wrist that had sent his companions aghast, frightful of what had become of their greatest enemy. Will can’t hide his concern about how he can feel the bones underneath the skin with just a light amount of pressure, not to mention how cold Louis’ body is. Will mentally file this in for the healer’s use, knowing there’s not much he can do but wait patiently.
“Louis,” Will finds himself cupping the traitor’s hand as he presses his brow against it. Something he believes to be far too intimate considering their… complicated relationship. “Please wake up. Please. That’s all I ask, I just… just want to know if you’re still there.”
Don’t cry for him, Will. Whatever you do. Don’t cry.
He barely follows his thoughts as he hesitantly lets go, placing the (warm) discoloured palm underneath the blanket. Giving an apologetic look at Louis’ untainted countenance unbefitting a kingslayer. The expression he wore was peaceful despite the untold agony of the traitor’s own magla going against him. He hated how it reminded him of how the Prince was while he was perpetually surrounded by those dark vines, yet he hated himself even more for drawing such a comparison. Louis wasn’t responsible for that curse, yet it almost felt like karma itself decided to play a particularly sick joke on them both.
Will takes a few unsteady steps back before turning around to reach for the door, the removed glove long forgotten on the floor as he mumbles a plea.
“Please wake up soon.”
Unbeknownst to the Euchronian king, the traitor’s eyes slowly crack open for only a few seconds before falling back shut.
The next morning, Will finds himself unceremoniously pulled out of a conversation with Strohl and Hulkenberg by a very frenzied healer tugging him by the collar. She didn’t seem to care how blatantly rude her actions would seem as she started to jabber about how come no one told her about Louis’ state. Strohl quickly tried to catch up to them, inquiring about what happened to have caused such a stir in the healer’s demeanour. Hulkenberg attempted to follow them before being stopped by Gallica, carrying over a new stack of papers that required reading and approval, much to the Roussainte’s dismay.
The king could barely catch up with what was going on as Strohl’s constant questions and the healer’s use of medical and magical jargon only served to confuse him. The healer then drops her grip on Will’s collar as she stops in front of Louis’ room before she can only sigh at everyone else’s blissful ignorance.
“Take this as advice from the only healer who took up the task of monitoring the health of the most hated man in the kingdom,” She flicks at the tufts of her ears and blinks her dull bug-like eyes at the king and general. “Do not agitate, distress or overstimulate the patient. Louis has only gained consciousness this early morning and I cannot express enough how no one told me about this and I had the misfortune of him glaring at me as if I was the most rotten piece of garbage he’s ever seen.”
“Wait, Louis is awake–” Will attempts to shout but is quickly silenced by the healer’s hand covering his mouth.
Strohl wanted to reprimand the half-blood healer for her rudeness but there were more pressing matters to discuss. “Will, you have been doing your evening vigil at his bed for several weeks now and yet you – of all people – weren’t aware?”
“Come off it, General. It’s already difficult to tell if a comatose patient would wake up if you don’t have the expertise. What I’m surprised about is how quickly the patient’s body is adjusting, never had one as… lively as Louis.” She rolls her eyes as she drops her hand, ignoring the way Strohl gaped at her flippant attitude.
“Madam Tonelico Fraxinus, please don’t speak to my companion in that way,” Will respectfully informs the healer of her social faux pas. “To answer your concern, I stayed in Louis’ room for only an hour. I’ve already given the observations I had in the letter I sent you, he never showed signs of movement or awareness last night.”
Tonelico blinks at him before crossing her arms. “Huh, then you left as soon as he was starting to gain consciousness. Talk about poor timing.”
Strohl pinches his brow in exasperation. “Moving along, do you know what’s going on with Louis? The words you said earlier aren’t familiar to me so I would like some clarification, if you don’t mind Madam.”
There was a moment of silence before Tonelico responded. “He’s certainly awake now, but he’s not stable by any means.”
“What do you mean by that?” Will felt a pit in his stomach as he asked the healer.
“For starters, he couldn’t quite speak or move properly. At best, he can make unintelligible noises and his locomotion is involuntary with the occasional shiver or convulsion.” Tonelico explains with interest as her eyes shine slightly. “He can open his eyes spontaneously but his vision seems to be impaired as of now. He didn’t respond when I entered the room but when I was next to the bed… he looked daggers at me and refused to take his medication. I also attempted to check his vitals and his discoloured skin for any changes but it only seemed to cause him more distress as he attempted to shout, or as loud as he could before coughing up a storm. I didn’t do anything else besides these things as too much stress would make his condition worse. This is why I said he isn’t stable, his health’s all over the place.”
Will felt the pit grow deeper and deeper the more the healer spoke. “Could his odd pulse pattern and the drastic temperature changes be related to that too?”
“Certainly, his condition could be relatively decent one day and then he could be at death’s doorstep the next.” She dusts off an imaginary speck of lint off her coat. “Not that would stop me from doing my job, thank you for the generous payment by the way.”
“Now that’s a predicament and a half,” Strohl mumbles to himself. “What’s the best course of action now that Louis is rejecting treatment from the only doctor who didn’t attempt to kill him? Make His Majesty do all the work again?”
“That’s not a bad idea, General.” The half-blood healer holds back a laugh after seeing the Clemar’s shocked expression. “His Highness has been doing a good job of taking care of the patient when I’m not around and well as keeping me updated on his condition until this point. As much as I want to lift the burden off the king’s shoulders; usually, patients like this would be more cooperative under the care of someone they’re familiar with. Not that it’s recommended mind you, but I fear that my direct involvement would only cause more distress in the long run. Believe me, I’ve had patients who switched to healers they can trust and it worked wonders .”
“Madam Tonelico, I’m by no means a professional healer.” Will’s face was filled with worried panic. “What if something unexpected happens and Louis ends up needing emergency treatment? What if he’s something ails him and I don’t do the correct protocol because I lack the knowledge? I also have other matters as king to concern myself over and I can’t monitor him all the time.”
“Then communicate for goodness' sake! You’ve got the Six Partisans backing you up whenever you’re in trouble, no? Besides, I’m also here for more specialized assistance and care as you did pay for my services. Just keep sending me letters as per usual or send Gallica my way for any emergencies.” Tonelico assures him in a tone reminiscent of a supportive ally.
The healer then clears her throat before handing Will a small jar of herbal tea. “Serve this to Louis for his wrecked throat and leave him in a sitting position for about five minutes before laying him back on the bed. Continue doing what I’ve taught you since the day you hired me and all should go smoothly.”
She then nudges him to the door and ushers him inside before looking towards Strohl as the door closes. “For everyone’s sake, do not let the general public know that Louis is now awake. The last thing we want is chaos caused by assassination attempts on both of them thanks to this bit of forbidden knowledge.”
“Understood,” Strohl politely bows before heading back to the main corridors.
Tonelico takes a moment to look outside the castle’s grand windows as the morning rays make her forest-green hair glow. She looks down to find a small crowd, holding up signs of protest to behead Louis on account of regicide and attempted omnicide. The guards outside were performing their duties quite well, barring public entry and preventing them from resorting to violence towards the other guards – or between themselves courtesy of Louis’ fanatic supporters. One can vent all they like about how their new king’s rule isn’t perfect, but it was already worlds better compared to the time before Will was crowned.
She was honestly surprised when the king allowed her to do her job despite her status as a Roussainte-Nidia half-blood. That alone told her about the nature of their new king if the pouch still full of reeves didn’t already send that message crystal clear.
The healer takes one look at the small booklet she uses to keep track of her daily duties and appointments before glancing at the nondescript door to the traitor’s room. She then takes an empty page out to write a note before leaving for her next patient.
Before you leave, give the patient pleasant tactile sensations and different sensations to work with. A hardcover book, soft plush, or perhaps smooth silk. You can have music if the patient prefers it but don’t play too loud or for too long to avoid overstimulation. Physical contact is also helpful in providing comfort. Be sure to communicate with each other in ways you can both understand where words fail.
Oh, and thank you for being kind enough to not call me a quack. I’ve had too many folks who’d do that despite having positive results from my treatments.
P.S. - Also, you left your glove on the floor from your last visit. You can give that to Louis if he wants it, Your Majesty.
Yours truly,
Tonelico Fraxinus
Time marches on and the story of the King and Traitor’s life continues.