Chapter Text
Something was wrong, Lurien thought. He couldn’t tell what was bothering him, but there was a vague sense of discomfort that was just strong enough to distract him from his everyday duties.
“ir- Sir? Sir!” His assistant’s voice broke him out of the trance he’d been in. “You’re not looking well, perhaps you should rest? The others have already gone to sleep.”
It took a moment for their words to reach him, his mind still scattered as he tried to figure out just what was making him feel so strangely.
“Oh... is it that late already?” he responded, surprised by how tired his own voice sounded. “Tell me, Osservá, have you noticed anything... different about me as of late?”
Osservá fixed him with an odd look but gave him a once over anyways before shaking their head. “You look the same as always, though, I will admit, you’ve been a bit distant lately. The other Overseers are worried about you.”
Lurien knew that they couldn’t see his face behind his mask, but frowned nonetheless. “My apologies, I don’t quite know what’s gotten into me. Please tell them not to fret, though. I’ll pull the drapes closed tonight since its too cold to leave them open, it’s probably just the chill.”
Their expression told him they didn’t believe him in the slightest, but they knew it would be nigh impossible to get any more out of him. Instead of pushing further, Osservá simply nodded slowly before heading towards the lift.
“Goodnight, Master Lurien,” they said, before giving him one last look of pure concern, “and do take care of yourself.”
“I will,” he replied, just as the metal carriage began its descent.
Pressing the heel of his hand against his face, Lurien sighed to himself. Ordinarily, he would’ve stayed up, his duties as the City of Tear’s caretaker and guardian outweighing any personal discomfort he may have been feeling, but this was a feeling beyond simple distress. It was something that dulled his senses and turned his mind to a disorganized fog.
At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt to look after himself just this once, and thankfully, his own living space was conveniently located within the spire’s tower room itself.
Sliding off his seat, Lurien half dragged his body to his quarters, not expecting the lethargy that seemed to invade his shell as soon as he’d started to move. Despite the short walk to where his bed was, he was already out of energy, the simple act of closing the thick fabric curtains closed over his telescope and lighting the candles by his desk draining him of the last of his strength.
Falling onto his cushions with a gasp, he felt himself sink into the pillows below, a weary noise escaping him as he tried to make himself comfortable.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered to himself, his limbs too heavy for him to even think about moving them. It didn’t make any sense. He’d been feeling off for weeks, and Lurien couldn’t remember being ill since he was a child, small and weak and unused to the cold climate of the ever raining city he’d come to care for so dearly.
As he searched his memories for something, anything that would serve for a possible reason behind the state he was in, he thought back to a time just before the strangeness had began. At first he couldn’t think of anything amiss, his days had proceeded as usual, until-
☾
The Pale King paid him a visit. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome, and the Watcher had invited his monarch into his home in the dead of night, neither knowing nor caring of why he’d come.
“...Lurien?” he’d asked, his voice a gentle lilt.
“Yes, My King?” It took him extra effort not to slur his words together, so relaxed he was in the presence of his Light.
“What would you give for this Kingdom?” Lurien didn’t hesitate in responding.
“Anything, My King,” he said, devotion dripping from every word. At that, the wyrm had drawn closer, his eyes peering through Lurien, down to his very core.
“And what would you give for Me?” The luminous being in front of him was so, so bright. So beautiful. He was near overwhelming, his royal aura bearing down upon him until Lurien could barely think clearly.
“Every- everything, I would give everything to you!” he cried. Not even thinking about the meaning behind his words, so desperate was he to stay, to bask in his King’s light for only a few more moments.
Lurien’s heart was fit to burst the moment the Pale King’s hands settled on his shell just beneath his cloak, and afterward he became thoroughly preoccupied with the wyrm’s touch, but not before he caught the King’s near silent laughter as he leaned over the Watcher and said, “You will.”
☾
Drawing his thoughts away from the memory, Lurien found himself trembling, and when he reached for his face he could feel the moisture of his own tears settling on his fingertips. Were they from of joy, or fear? Such clarity was beyond him for the moment.
“No, no, he couldn’t have. It’s impossible,” he mumbled shakily, even as one of his hands drifted downward. Lurien’s heart was racing as his mind tried to sort through the jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings it had become. It wasn’t true, he tried to tell himself, there wasn’t single chance that such a thing could’ve happened, and yet-
Lurien let out a sob when his hand pressed against the lower part of his abdomen, his shell was soft, softer than it should've been. When he pushed down more, his breath caught sharply as he felt the slightest indentation of something soft and round within. While his body was convulsing with terror, his busy mind quieted in a near instant.
Oh, so that’s what’s wrong , he thought, before breaking down in earnest, the tears rolling down his mask as his chest heaved with his cries.
“King Beloved... what have you done to me?” he asked, the fear in his voice swallowed up by the empty room.