It wasn't a kingdom, but it didn't need to be. He knew well enough that Buyan would be waiting for them, for Koschei, until their return and whatever happened to it would be something they could address when the time came; but as it stood, being there hadn't been healthy. It wasn't the same as when Koschei had been in a mood most foul and wasn't the usual stints of months that Asa had to pry him away from in foul methods. It was something worse - it was a rot, something that creeped and crawled and infested everything, including the very person whose emotions controlled just how alive or just how dead Buyan could be; and Asa couldn't abide by that no matter how much he didn't want to leave their home. "Will Papa Koschei be alright?" It had been a question asked of him many times when things got rough, when Asa could imagine the very same creep assaulting something of some significance to his husband or simply furrowed further, inward and inward, towards those depths of Buyan that were worrisome, the places where people didn't belong and not even the supernatural that lived within dared tread for the threats that awaited them there. He knew it would subside, that the denizens of Buyan wouldn't allow their home to be overtaken, but decisions had to be made for the betterment of his husband which had put them here now, miles away, in modest accomodations where very few would ask questions, Asa tending to his fever with a cold compress pressed firmly, but gently against his forehead. "I'm doing all I can," Asa said, dabbing the cold rag against his head before dunking it back into a bowl of cold water only to ring it out. He was blending what he could, crying what he could, ensuring there was a little bit of heaving in everything that Koschei took in to try and bolster what he already knew to be exceptional healing prowess - except for in this case. Whatever this was, it had been worse and no place for Koschei to be. Not that Joseon had been much better, an empire overthrown, remodeled and ultimately under siege by those with all intent to take them over and eradicate what had been build centuries before, but it had been familiar; it had been a place he had stayed in lives prior, somewhere that poked and prodded at fragments of his memories and, at the time, somewhere that had been safe; and, if it came down to it, Asa didn't doubt that there would be any number of wartime activities for a healing husband to bask in when able. But for now, it was him and the domovoi, one readily in transit to ensure that there was cold enough water for Koschei while the other took to light attendance of Asa's needs, watching over Koschei only when Asa busied himself otherwise - with blending tea, with making porridge, with writing or going out for supplies in those moments it seemed Koschei was able to get some decent rest without him there, immediately at his side though far away, Asa was not. |