Martin blinked several times before waking, the moisture in his eyes making them ache. He rubbed them, sure they were swollen from the sneezing and the sickness, and tried to sit up.
"No you don't," a voice said. He flipped onto his side in surprise, nearly spraining his shoulders with the effort. Amalie stood over him, frowning and shaming him with her finger. "Unless you're a hundred percent better, you have to rest. We have to leave in a few days, remember?"
"I'll be fine to go," he replied at once, annoyed at her persistence. "I feel alright." However, he did not feel the least bit better. His head throbbed, the thunderstorm merely kindling for the fire atop his skull, and he felt the same constricted sensation in his nose and chest.
"No," Amalie corrected him, giving him a final push back down. "I checked you an hour ago and you were still warm." She raised her hand to his forehead, and nodded in confirmation. "Lie back down."
"Where's -" Martin paused, struggling for her brother's name. His memory often fell short, actually, even when without the assistance of illness.
"Kerr's looking for food," Amalie said. "The apple's were mostly rotten, and we all need to eat." She paused. "How are you feeling?"
Martin gave a sort of shrug. "Fine. Better." He noticed the deliberate mound of mud beneath his scalding temples, and wondered if she had tried to make a sort of pillow. Even in the crux of their situation, he almost smiled at her kindness.
"Your sinuses don't sound so clogged," she replied, cheery. "And you haven't sneezed in hours."
He grimaced, the heat in his face migrating to his cheeks. Still, he thought it might be best to keep the little girl updated. "No, that comes and goes. I'll be fine for a while, and then they'll hit me all at once."
She made a mewing sound of sympathy. "I'm sorry. Hopefully the rain will stop soon, and you'll be able to dry off." Lying in the shelter of the trees compared wonderfully to standing in the downpour, but it was far from ideal. The awful, chilling tingles had stuck to Martin's skin overnight, despite his climbing temperature. Again he found his body confused, only certain that it felt thoroughly miserable at both extremes.
"It's gotten louder," he commented, after a moment. The raindrops forged a whip together, painting the ground with their striking blow of water. "Are you sure your brother's alright?"
Amalie glanced out at the storm, her nerves visibly electric. "I think so. He promised he'd come back if he didn't find anything."
"It's no use getting him sick too," Martin continued. "Then we'll never get anywhere."
"He won't get sick," Amalie replied. "Kerr doesn't get sick." She fixed a scrutinizing glance on Martin, analyzing his every move. "You're shivering again."
"Am I?" He hadn't noticed. Sure enough, every piece of his flesh danced with vigor, causing him to tremble manically.
"Are you cold?" Amalie asked, crawling to his side. "I can look for..." She bit her lip, thinking of ways to warm him up. They had no sweaters, no blankets. The leaves on the trees were far too damp to be of any use.
He shook his head, even though he did feel a bit cold. "No, I don't care." He gave a soft whimper of dread. "This means it's starting again."
"What is?"
"The sneezing and coughing." He shook his head, glaring at the tree's bark. Of all he'd endured over the past three days - though his days with the Hunters certainly did not compare - the sneezing fits were certainly the worst. He hated the lack of control, the uncertainty. The fever, at least, remained steady. The painful jolts in his head felt nearly routine, but this... He hated the way they approached all at once, sneeze after sneeze coming until he thought he'd collapse from a lack of air. And with company? He'd never survive it. Last night, when he'd tried so desperately to stifle himself, that's when the sneezes had tapered off.
"Oh," she said, sounding sad. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "Does it really hurt?"
Martin wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his frozen hands against his shirt. "Not really," he replied honestly, considering it. "But I don't know when it will end, and I hate that. And sometimes, if it keeps going, my nose starts to hurt." He felt like a small child, telling this to her, but her eyes held a curious air to them. Besides, after all that he'd experienced, he had the human need to complain. If someone wanted to hear, then, well, he would tell them.
"Would you like me to hold your hand?" Her head tilted to the side, she looked so earnest. He nearly laughed, embarrassed at the thought of the idea.
"I'll be alright," he insisted. "Just..." He trailed off, thinking the first one had arrived, and scrubbed his nose until the tickle returned to bay.
"Would you like me to talk to you?" Amalie asked. "Distract you?" She folded her hands in her lap, her attention devoted to the task at hand.
Martin sighed, wishing he could explain to her that she did not make this any easier. He moved his hands back to his nose, attempting to soothe it further, but made the mistake of grazing it with his nails. Only the slightest edge scraped his skin, but it was too late. The trigger reared back, releasing the tickle and pushing him over the edge. "Heh... hih'hih.." He smacked the ground with his left hand, annoyed, keeping the right tightly under his nose. "Hih'hih'chgnn!" He wasn't finished, but Amalie didn't appear to notice.
"Bless you. Mart -"
"Hih'ghnni! Ghnn! Heh... " His body stuck there, face deflating like a popped balloon. As his nostrils grappled convulsively for the sneeze, trying to free him, Amalie decided to try again.
"Bless you. Martin, can I ask you a question?"
He tried to open his eyes and look at her, which seemed enough to do him in. "Wh-wha... heh... hih'shghni! Gxnnt! Ah..." The last one brought his nose to his kneecaps, and he felt sure he would not be able to do this for long. The stifles simply prolonged the sneezing, and he knew he'd be at this for hours. Still though, some habits were hard to give up. He'd trained, since birth, on the appropriate ways to behave in public. And after his recent experiences especially, he intended to keep his dignity as close as he could.
"Why do you only sneeze like a normal person when you're asleep?" She stared at him, and he had only to open his mouth to encourage the next round.
Bringing his elbow under his nostrils, he blushed as the drawstring pulled his mouth open and his eyes shut. "Hehgnnxhi! Hehshnnt!" He gave a strong sniffle, looking back at her. "What?" he asked. The weight of mucus had really impaired his voice now, and he knew no amount of coughing would return it to normal. He could feel his face darken in shade, hoping she wouldn't mind.
"Yours are all so squished," she went on, speaking with the trademark candor of a person from her town. "No wonder it's painful. You sneeze normally in your sleep, and it seems less painful for you."
"Because I'b asleep," Martin replied, trying to add a note of sarcasm. It did not help, though. He felt mortified, wondering how much he'd sneezed when unaware.
"Haven't you ever tried it before?" She asked, innocent as ever.
"Yeah," he muttered, using the heel of his hand to press down on his nose. "It - it's the same. Worse even, because…” He met her eyes, so wide and innocent, and felt compelled to tell the truth. “It just ends faster," he admitted.
"Well?" Amalie prompted, her voice quiet. They stared at one another for a moment, the rain streaking on behind them.
“I shouldn’t,” he said quietly, after a moment. He punctuated the sentence with a sniff, sighing and rubbing his nose. “It isn’t proper.”
Amalie gave a toss of her head, and Martin realized in surprise that she meant it as a gesture of scorn. “What does that even mean?” she asked. She crossed her arms, evidently frustrated.
“I…” He stopped, giving a heavy cough.
“Just try it,” Amalie said, as if encouraging a bite of unknown food. “What are you so afraid of, anyway? It’s only a sneeze.” He met her eyes, wondering how you got to be like her. She was brought up to care for the big picture, clearly, while he had learned to notice the details. When you were a prince, you had to, but perhaps vision-children lived life differently. He didn’t answer her, and so she pressed the matter further. “And anyway, for all you were worried about, it hasn’t been that bad so far. … Right?”
“Right,” he answered dully.
At once, it seemed to click for her. “Are you embarrassed?” she asked softly. He didn’t answer; another sneeze slid behind his waiting mouth and nostrils, making it hard to speak comfortably. “You shouldn’t be,” she went on. “I mean… it isn’t a big deal or anything.”
Perhaps it was because she was so young, making him want to believe her, or maybe it was because he knew he would never clear his nose this way – but he wanted to listen. “O-okay,” he murmured, feeling one build already. His cheeks reddened in anticipation, and paused nervously in place. “If – if you, heh –“ The hitch reared back on a desperate note, releasing a string of short gasps. “Heh’heh…heh – HEH” He seemed to choke on the last one, scarlet face screwed up in waiting. His mouth hung there for a few moments, eyes scrunched tightly shut, and he raised his arms for the release. “HEHkshoo!” His elbow caught the thick of the spray, a few droplets showering the floor. He kept it there, hiding the bottom of his face, expecting further to overpower him. “I’b sorry,” he murmured, sighing.
Despite his earlier request, Amalie reached around to his other side and grasped his hand. He twitched, trying to pull away, but quickly convulsed in the other direction. His neck whipped his face away from her, and she only caught the muffled sounds of his frantic breath. Hidden by the sleeve, they made a faint “Ehh- eh’eh.” On the last one, he squeezed her fingers back. “Hehkshoo!” With one beat’s pause, he continued. “Ushh! Hih’ushhh!” He stopped once more, moving his arm just an inch, and quickly put it back in place. “Hishoo! Uh’shoo! Uh…” he groaned, finished at last.
“Are you alright?” she asked, deciding she liked him better this way. He seemed more familiar this way, exhibiting the symptoms she expected from the ill.
He leaned back against the tree trunk, massaging his temples with the hand she did not hold. Still panting, eyes still shut, he gave a little nod. “Yeah,” he said. However, his face radiated pain. The edges of his nose glowed with a sickly pink, not to mention the still-embarrassed color of his cheeks. Sneezing outright seemed to have hurt his head as well. He continued to shake as well, the icy texture on his body only lowering its temperature. She watched him control his breathing, in and out, shoulders moving at a steady, careful pace. His fingers trembled as he brushed sweat from his brow, and she quickly began apologizing.
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning towards him. “I didn’t mean for it to make things worse.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head; but he kept his eyes closed, either exhausted or afraid to look at her. “It was going to happen eventually. And anyway, I wasn’t going to get better if I kept holding it in.” Tentative, unsure, he blinked and looked at her. His grey eyes held moisture, presumably an aftermath of the fit. They held one another’s gaze, Amalie still searching his face for any signs of harm. “Thank you.”
“Really?” She brightened, happy to have helped. Amalie felt best when she thought she had done something of use.
“Yes,” he answered slowly. “You were right. It’s a silly thing to be afraid of. And I – I’ll tr – heh - try… uhh, here we go again.” She held his hand tight, and he reciprocated, readying himself. He snapped forward so quickly that his hair fell in his face, blocking her view of his wellbeing. “Hehkshhoo! Shoo! hih! shoo! The last two shot out together, giving him a single breath before the next. “Hehshuh! Ushh! Ehshhoo! His elbow could no longer contain the sneezes, and he rose, shakily, for the first time in days.
Stumbling forward, getting away from her, he fell promptly to his knees. “Ekshoo! Hehkshuh! Heh –heh – heh’heh’hih…” Again, his breathing sharpened, and only when he moved his head did she catch sight of his face. Apparently he no longer had time to feel embarrassment, for his face shown blank except the sneezes. Still, this kept his features preoccupied enough, pulling his breath in careful synchronization. His eyelashes sailed to his lids as his nostrils wove apart, head bobbing as his lips snapped shut. “Ehshoo! Hixshshh! Kshoo!” They fell into his lap one after the other, each bursting from his lips with surprising force. He shivered throughout, shoulders tensing and quickening pace with every sneeze.
Ten identical “HehCHOO!”s came after, Amalie reaching him on the fourth. He could no longer sit straight, and she propped him gently over her knee.
“Martin?” she asked softly, though he did not have the breath to reply.
“Hukshshh!” he let out, barely catching it with his wrist.
“Are you alright?” she asked uselessly.
Somehow, he managed to nod for her. “Fine,” he said weakly. “You can talk now if you like,” He smiled a little, hoping she would smile back. “To distract me, like you said.”
“Okay,” Amalie replied, deciding to take his request as a positive sign. “What would you like me to talk about?”
