Work Text:
Early Spring, 1001 AD
“I think I’m dying,” he croaked, hacking into his hand as she rolled her eyes.
“Only if I kill you,” she muttered, pouring a serving of tea. The rich herbs tickled her senses, loosening phlegm in the back of her throat.
“Would you, my light?” Kol coughed again, struggling to sit up as she approached. “Kill a dying man?”
“To put you, and more importantly me, out of my misery,” she perched on the edge of their bed and passed him the cup, “in a heartbeat.”
“Are you truly that miserable, darling?” He groaned, sipping the fragrant tea. “I despise this tea.”
“My husband has a teeny, tiny, little cold and has transformed into an overgrown child,” she gestured toward the crackling fire and the cradle nearby, “I’ve already got one baby to deal with. I did not agree to two.”
“Better drink that tea, brother,” Rebekah sank to her knees near the cradle, grinning at the infant inside. “Before your bride decides the poisons are better equipped to deal with your nonsense than the herbs.”
“And now you’ve turned my sister against me,” he gasped, clutching his chest.
“We girls have to stick together,” she shared a grin with Rebekah and then settled a hand on Kol’s chest. “I don’t want you within six feet of our child until you’ve drunken that tea twice a day for two days and can go a day without coughing.”
“You cruel women,” his eyes glittered over the edge of his mug, “forcing my to drink this bitter concoction by withholding my little light.”
“I’ve already got a sick husband, brother-in-law and father-in-law; I’ll not have a sick baby on top of you lot,” she patted his knee. “If it makes you feel better Nik and Mikael have both been warned to keep away at knife point, and threat of the wrath of Zephyr.”
sevensistersofsussex Wed 06 Aug 2025 02:08AM UTC
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feralrodrev Sat 09 Aug 2025 02:23AM UTC
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