Work Text:
When Malcolm woke up with a pounding headache, he knew he was fucked and had to soldier through. After all, the king of Scotland does not get sick as Duncan had taught him. Just get a glass of water, nurse the headache when no one was watching, and call a physic in private. Kings should be invincible.
Which is funny, because Malcolm had never felt further from that than when he was sick. He pushed himself upright, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked even worse than he felt.
Malcolm pulled his hair into a ponytail, pulled on a nice tunic, and went to get breakfast. He managed a piece of bread before feeling nauseous, then realized he had to talk to the thanes around Angus about the famine, thanks to Macbeth…
Malcolm snapped back into reality when Leslie, Gowrie and Duff stepped in the room. Malcolm sneezed, and immediately got three bless you s in return.
“I’m sorry.” Malcolm said. “We can get started now if you’d like.”
Malcolm tried. He tried so hard to keep focus in the meeting. Especially when Leslie and Gowrie started squabbling, and Duff looked at him helplessly.
“Gowrie…” Malcolm said. “Leslie…” The room was too hot. Maybe it was just Malcolm. “Please don’t argue. We can solve this.”
“Not while Gowrie keeps trying to steal my land!”
“Not while Angus keeps making false claims.”
Duff rolled his eyes, and Malcolm took a glass of water. It was cold, and he put the glass against his head when he was sure no one was looking. It felt nice. He drank the glass down.
This was supposed to make headaches go away right? His only seemed to get worse. Leslie and Gowrie had started yelling about something or other. Duff was trying to seperate the two.
Oh right.
Malcolm thought.
I’m supposed to do something. I’m the king, for Odin’s sake
. But his brain was so muddled, he didn't exactly register he had to do that
now
. He stood up again.
“Guys-” When was his voice so hoarse? His legs felt like they couldn’t support him for much longer. “
Guys.
Please, we don’t need to yell.”
He sounded even worse, but at least he was heard. Duff turned to look at him. He looked Malcolm up and down. Malcolm felt exposed all over, skin burning and cold at the same time.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“Oh yeah.” Malcolm said. “Fine.” And as if to spite him, Malcolm’s legs gave way and the world faded into a blissful darkness.
***
Malcolm was vaguely aware of something warm on his forehead. He was warm and felt safe. There was someone holding his hand. It was probably Don. Don always took care of him when he was sick. Which wasn’t often, right?
Whoever was holding his hand let go, then took the warmth off his forehead and replaced it with something cold. Malcolm opened his eyes.
He was in his room. That wasn’t right. Wasn’t he in the middle of a meeting?
Oh shit, the meeting. Leslie was going to kill him. He tried to push himself upright.
“Easy.” That wasn’t Don’s voice. Hands eased Malcolm back to the bed. “You’re confined to the bed until you get better.”
“Duff?” Malcolm said. His voice came out hoarse and he winced at how horrible he sounded in front of
Duff
of all people.
“Hey.” Duff said. He was gentle, pulling the covers tighter around Malcolm, then putting one hand on his cheek. “Feeling a little better?”
Duff’s hand was cold too. Malcolm took a moment to appreciate that. “Yeah.” he rasped. Then: “Is Leslie mad about the meeting?” He coughed.
“No, Leslie isn’t mad.” Duff assured him. He took his hand away from Malcolm’s face. “Neither is Gowrie. I’m not mad either. Do you want anything to drink?”
“Is there cold water?” Malcolm asked. He pushed himself upright and immediately the room spun. “Shit.” The cold cloth landed in his lap. He stared at it until Duff handed him the water. Malcolm drank some, then put it on the table.
“I-I shouldn’t inconvenience you like this…” Malcolm coughed, climbing back under the covers. He was so cold. “You-Did you call a physic...you can go home if you want…”
“Hey, I chose to stay here.” Duff said. “I’m going to help you feel better.” He took the cloth and put it in a bucket, then put it on Malcolm’s forehead.
“I’m cold…” Malcolm whined. Then he covered his mouth. “I-I’m sorry, I-”
“Malcolm, it’s okay.” Duff said, pulling another quilt over Malcolm’s body. It didn't help, but Malcolm didn't want to tell Duff. “I’m here to help. You don’t need to push me away.”
“I don’t wanna be a bother…” Malcolm yawned. “Msorry…”
“Shh, don’t worry.” Duff said. “Sleep helps. Just rest and recover. That’s all I want from you right now.”
Malcolm wanted to stay awake, but the blankets and the sheets and the comfort of his own bed was too much for him. He tried to stay awake, focusing on Duff’s face, but his eyelids were heavier with each second. Duff switched out the cloth, and put his hand, freshly cold again, onto Malcolm’s cheek.
That alone was enough to lull Malcolm back into slumber.