[open] you won't feel the drowning

[theintercessor]

WHO: Jude Sullivan
WHERE: 6I Village, between the store room and schoolhouse
WHEN: April 15
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Jude's been hit with a plant spore that slowly drowns the victim in mucus/fluids, so maybe just gross symptoms?

---

He'd talked something of a big game to Sam about asking for help--but there's a metaphorical canyon between puking blood and what he thinks is a spring cold. The cold weather snaps into spring and then back to snow; easier to link a runny nose to that than a plant he's never seen before, crushed underfoot and spitting something up his pant leg. He cuts a new kerchief out of an old towel and keeps going.

The next day, he wakes up fuzzy-headed, nose and throat thick with snot, and wishes there were more fruit in the village--more tea in the house. He can't imagine what the docs would do but tell him to keep warm and sleep it off, so he builds up the fire and waits.

It's the third day that he braves the world outside of his house. The dust in it can't be helping, and after the last disaster--he knows he shouldn't be alone. If nothing else, Bodhi can fuss over him in a clean kitchen with tea and whatever we have soup. The journey shouldn't be long, a few rows of houses, a couple of paths. Jude tries to cut between the storage house and now-standing school to save time.

He makes it to the back corner, hand steadying on the wall, before he sinks down toward the lingering snow. A cough drops his head, barking and sharp--not the cough of a common cold, but the too-familiar choke of something blocking his throat, dripping into his windpipe. It goes on for long minutes, disturbing the quiet of the morning, until he's coughed and spat enough thin fluid into the snow and grass to drag in a breath. As soon as he does, it starts again, and he leans harder on the wall as he chokes.

Comments

[king_in_the_north]

There was a strange, enthusiastic animal following Robb as he cut across the lawns and trails of the village. The size of a smaller dog of the sort nobles sometimes keep for company, it was hairless with a long, menacing snout that was completely at odds with the near-constant wagging of its stubby tail. He'd gone ranging south yesterday to explore as well as hunt, and it had come upon him as he'd been seated against a sturdy tree eating his midday meal. The creature had seemed pleasant enough despite its copious teeth, so he'd shared a bit of meat with it and apparently become its friend for life.

Spying the young man ahead, Robb paused and then hurried forward between the buildings. "Here," he said, hastily unstrapping his water skin and holding it out. The not-dog bounded forward and sniffed curiously at the mess on the grass, only to quickly back away.

[theintercessor]

There's an odd vibrating, pulling sound when he breathes, like air through a segmented straw, then the gasp and pop of his throat closing again. Blinking does nothing for his ability to breathe, but he can't help it, rapid light-dark shutters of feet approaching, a snout he can't help but jerk slightly away from.

It dances out of view, and he tracks it curiously as he takes the water and washes back the phlegm.

Another cough, and he can manage basic speech. Each one scratches his throat and sets an ache throbbing behind his eyes. "Came down with," short breath, "something." He sips again, trying to keep his throat clear; the moment he stops coughing, that slippery feeling returns. "Hard to breathe."

When he looks up, absurdly, he can't help but focus on the creature. It's snapping up snow in its long mouth, letting it burst apart and fall out the sides. For a moment, he can't be sure he isn't just seeing something where a dog should be.

[king_in_the_north]

This was no ordinary fever or congestion, Robb thought, and his face pinched as he watched the young man struggle to draw breath.

"Have you been to consult a healer... a doctor?" The word still felt odd on his tongue. "To the hospital?" He'd never had the occasion to go there himself, but last he heard, it was regularly staffed.

"I can help you there, if you'd like." The not-dog was prancing in agitation at his feet, but whether it was a warning or simple worry the stranger, Robb couldn't have begun to guess.

[theintercessor]

"No, I--" another series of coughs, wet and exhausting, but at least they clear his throat for a moment. "Wasn't this bad, yet. Please."

Using the rest of the moment to breathe, open-mouthed and deep, he tries to contextualize the plea with a lifted arm while he catches his breath. He's not puking up blood, so he doesn't think he's as fucked as Sam, but--if a stranger is this worried about him, he can only imagine the fright he might give Bodhi.

"Hospital," he manages, after another hard cough.

[king_in_the_north]

"Don't worry yourself with trying to talk," Robb quickly replied, and closed the little distance between them without hesitation. It was the sort of thing he might have been chastised for by his mother or Maester Luwin, getting so close to someone so clearly ill, working the young man's arm up over his shoulder for support, but neither his mother nor Maester Luwin had been Starks. It was obvious the situation was dire, and he was the only help available.

"I'm Robb," he added as he looped his arm around the other man's back and began to help guide him as quickly as he might toward the hospital. He wasn't really thinking of proper manners, just in having something potentially distracting to say. "I've not given the little fellow a name yet, but I reckon I'll have to soon. He doesn't seem inclined to leave."

[theintercessor]

Not talking while someone spoke at him was par for the usual course, Jude barely tempted to offer a name. It's enough effort to keep his head up, stimming between Robb's shoulder and the path ahead. For a cough, he swings it outward, all of his own manners focused on not getting any of this in Robb's face.

The worse it gets, the less he knows what it is. He can't recall picking it up from anyone, but he might have not known what to look for at the time.

The feast was only so many days ago. The changes only so many more before that. They've been gathered up trying to sort things out, and it's his first day out since falling ill. Swinging his head back out, he coughs up enough to ask, gasping, "Has anyone else--been sick?"