Chapter Text
“Are you feeling alright?”
Aymeric glanced up at the question, having been staring at the same set of papers for probably the past ten minutes. The day had seemed to have stretched far too long and far too cold, or maybe it was something in the air. He did feel unusually cold in his office. But he really felt fine otherwise. Surely.
“I’m fine. Why?” He eyed Lucia with a little bit of confusion. He certainly felt fine, save for the extra chills. It didn’t feel like a fever of all things.
She did not look convinced of this.
“You look pale. Perhaps you should get up and move a little? You’ve been motionless for the past hour.” There was less of a hint to her voice and more of a heavy suggestion, and Aymeric was not stupid enough to think that she would not actually lift him out of his chair and make him walk a little.
But he did suppose she was right.
He had been sitting a while, and maybe walking around more would get him to feel less cold, to warm up. Ishgard was cold on the best of days, but today it felt like there was an added draft or chill in the air. The Lord Commander set the paper down, rubbing his eyes as he sat back. His joints felt stiff and sore, and maybe it was best if he actually did more than just pace around his office. Food was starting to sound like a fine idea.
“A walk to clear my head, and something to eat then.” Aymeric said as he stood, feeling various things popping in his back. Maybe he was getting old, though Fury forbid he ever voiced that out loud, Lucia would have a fit.
Unfortunately walking did not seem to do anything to properly wake him up. He only felt worse. Colder. His head starting to feel like it was swimming, and he put his hand on one wall to steady himself. Maybe he could simply see a doctor and let this pass. But the idea of finding a spare bunk and sleeping for a few bells was starting to sound like a fine idea. Surely Lucia would understand if he needed to rest, right?
A chill slowly crept through him, and he shuddered. He hardly felt good, and deeply wanted to sleep under his desk. Or in his own bed, not that he ever went home these days. There was always something to do, too much of it.
Surely it was a simple cold, it would pass.
“Lucia.”
He clung to the wall when he made it back to his office, now feeling proper sick. He had been sick before, but perhaps it was the stress, the pressure of being Lord Commander that was making this feel worse. There was so much more he had to do.
Lucia was more than alarmed, moving over quickly to support him.
“I’m helping you home, and finding a doctor.” She was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, and Aymeric wasn’t entirely sure he had the strength in him to argue over it. He had felt fine earlier in the day, but now it all seemed to be hitting him at once.
“I can make it home fine.” He insisted, pushing away. He tried to make it to his desk, trying to grab a few things to look over, and ended up feeling out of breath and dizzy.
He wanted to sleep, and maybe he could just stay here.
“Maybe I should just grab a cot and sleep for a little while.” He murmured.
Lucia did not look particularly pleased, but she at least could help with that. She pulled his arm over her shoulder, and supported him as they made their way to the barracks proper. The first cot became his bed, and he sank down onto it, ignoring Lucia’s attempts to get him to at least take off his coat, or boots. He just wanted to sleep for a little while.
It was a few hours before he woke up, feeling significantly better. Still pale, apparently, but he felt alright.
Aymeric, for once listening to his better judgment, decided it was perhaps best to go home for the night. He insisted that he was not going to die on the way, though it took an act of the Fury herself to actually leave without Lucia just following after him.
It was a quiet night as he left the Congregation, making his way from Foundation up towards the pillars.
Something about the world seemed different. He didn’t know what, but something didn’t feel right. His eyes drifted towards the towering spires of the cathedral, the Vault looming over him. He tried to ignore it, forcing his gaze to the world ahead of him. He stumbled a little, things suddenly spinning with such a simple motion. He felt terrible suddenly, a nausea rolling over him. No, he could be sick when he got to the safety of his own home. He couldn’t afford to actually be sick, he was the Lord Commander! He needed to be properly focused! Just some hot tea and rest and he would be fine.
He’d be fine.
He made it to the proper street when the world spun again. Something hissed in his ear, and he wobbled when he tried to steady himself. He tried to turn towards the voice, the whisper he heard, but the world outright whirled as he lost his balance and fell into the blackness.