tarotgal

Not so much about snow... and not my best writing. But I thought I should write something, at least. I'm halfway through a Gimli/Legolas one but it's not going so well. So just two this time.

The Thoughts of Padawan Obi-Wan Kanobi, During a Snowstorm while Sick with a Cold

I wish the healer would leave. She’s out in the common room now, speaking with Qui-Gon. My master called her because he was worried about my sniffles getting worse and us being cut off from the healing dome during the snowstorm. But he needn’t have bothered. I don’t need medicine or more healing trances. Those don’t help my nose at all. What helps is my master holding his large handkerchiefs to my nose and patting my back when I sneeze out all the sneezes I have in me.

I wish the healer would leave. It’s obvious the only reason she’s still here is because she’s keen on Qui-Gon. She’s flirting and giggling and patting his leg comfortingly. I can’t imagine he really likes that, but I can’t see him. The door to my chamber is only open a crack and I can only see her. There are rules about this sort of thing, about proper protocols when one’s padawan catches a cold. I understand why he needed to call her. But what I need is to crawl out of my bed and into my master’s. He can hold me tight to warm me and pet me everywhere to comfort me.

I wish the healer would leave. I can’t stay awake too much longer, even with the tickles plaguing my nose. The snow falling outside my window makes my eyes tired and my eyelids droop. I try to fight it. I’m a good fighter, but I am tired. So tired. Sleep will help me feel better, but I don’t care so much about feeling better if my master isn’t going to be here with me.

I wish the healer would leave. I have to sneeze, and I don’t want her listening. She’ll come in and fuss and say I should have been asleep. But I can’t help a sneeze. I’m sick, after all. And I really need… oh… got to sneeze… right now. No stopping it. Here it comes!

“ehh-ehh-eh-IHkshhhhhhhh!”

There it was. Right into Qui-Gon’s hanky. I sniffle and look up at him, my nose still buried in the folds. How had he known? How did he get to me so quickly? And where’s the healer? Has she gone finally or is it just that I can’t see her through the open doorway?

“Shhh, Padawan Mine. Blow your nose and I’ll take you to bed.”

His free hand strokes my head as my nose gurgles. Then he scoops me up with the Force and the blankets and takes me right to his big bed. He’s so warm beside me, cuddled right up to me, hugging so tightly. I hope this cold lasts forever and he never leaves.

The Thoughts of Remus Lupin, During a Snowstorm while Sick with a Cold

Why is it that mushy oatmeal makes me feel sick, except when I’m already sick? And then it makes me feel warm inside and out.

Why is it that Sirius’ thick feather comforter makes my nose tickle, except when it’s already tickling? And then it makes me so warm and comfortable that I wouldn’t want to sleep anywhere else when sick.

Why is it that the Marauders’ teasing usually makes me blush, except when my cheeks are already flushed? And then it’s actually kind of nice and endearing.

I love when they pile onto the bed with me. There’s snuggling from them and it’s just a little affectionate, but mostly makes me nice and toasty. There’s sniffling from me and it’s just a little annoying, but mostly they ignore it as though I were perfectly fine. They always give me first crack at the candy or they nick some hot chocolate from the kitchen and give me the fullest mug.

When I start nodding off, Sirius wraps his arms around me and lets me fall asleep against his body. He lets me use his chest as a pillow and strokes me… sometimes a little inappropriately, which makes me smile. He conjures up peppermint lotion to rub on my chest to help free my sinuses… and sometimes he rubs it elsewhere to help take my mind off my cold.

And when the snow is really coming down outside, and I sit in bed, looking longingly out at the snowball fights and snow angels, a few simple spells turn our dormitory into a winter wonderland without the cold temperatures. The magical flakes sparkle in the candlelight and the faux snow blankets everything in the room without soaking it.

Why is it that colds make me miserable, except when I actually have a cold? And then I couldn’t be happier.