#RIP Tilieth period cramps suck

[skyloftian-nutcase]

@kikker-oma here you go, one sickfic with Til & Abel ❤️

It was a beautiful day on the plateau. The sun was shining brilliantly, but its heat was tempered by the cooler winds of autumn, drying the heat and pushing the green from the leaves. Birds chirped as they gathered supplies for the oncoming winter, and squirrels were audibly scampering about on the thatched roof.

It was a perfect day. But Tilieth lay on the hard bed, miserable, curled in on herself. She’d awoken to an unpleasant cramping sensation, and she figured she knew what it heralded.

Tilieth hadn’t necessarily made plans for the day, but she’d wanted to check on her garden, and this ruined any chance of that. Or really, any motivation to do anything. The cramps were bad enough, but the accompanying nausea nearly brought her to tears.

The sun moved higher into the sky, making Tilieth miserable that she was stuck indoors, but she could hardly move. When she heard approaching footsteps, she started crying, feeling guilty but also not wanting to have to explain anything. She just wanted to be alone. But she also wanted to be held.

The door opened, and Abel shuffled inside, having patrolled the plateau and probably hunted a little. He paused as soon as he entered, immediately honing in on Tilieth, and she buried her face in her pillow.

“Til?” He asked quietly, walking towards her.

Tilieth tried not to cause a fuss, but the mere mention of her name, him just entering her space made her fall apart. She curled in even more, getting some relief from the pain, but her emotions were all over the place.

The first day was always the worst.

Abel paused, distressed and confused, and then his eyebrows rose in dawning comprehension.

Without a word, her husband exited the house, making Tilieth feel both happy that she didn’t have to explain anything or feel guilty and infinitely more alone.

When Abel returned a few minutes later, he had a hot water bottle and a cup of tea in his hands, and he knelt down on the floor so he was eye level with her as she lay in bed.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said softly, holding out the offerings.

Tilieth cried quietly, taking the gifts and feeling equal parts miserable and touched by his actions. Abel always tried to take care of her during this time of the month. The hot water bottle felt amazing against her abdomen, and some sips of the ginger tea helped with her nausea. She could still hardly move, but she wasn’t really in agony while she was still.

Abel laid his palms flat on the bed, resting his chin on them as he gazed at her and smiled. “I’m still in awe with women. Men may be able to physically fight better, but women can certainly endure more. I wouldn’t last in your shoes.”

Tilieth gave him a small smile in return, the tears threatening to return. She hated feeling like such an emotional mess - it wasn’t as if she wasn’t capable of tipping into this point on a regular basis, but she couldn’t stop herself at all when this happened.

Abel kept her silent company, shifting a little so he was simply sitting on the floor head resting on his arm, just a hair’s breadth from her. Eventually, her husband grabbed a book to keep himself preoccupied as he rested with her, letting her sniffle or reposition until, by evening, Tilieth finally scooted close enough to wrap her arm around his head and snuggle in close. The pain was easing, and tomorrow would be a better day.

When Tilieth realized nearly half the day had gone by without Abel moving, and she herself had only had the tea since she’d had no appetite, she poked her husband. Abel glanced up at her, half asleep from reading. “What is it, Til?”

Tilieth reached for the cup, and Abel sat up, taking it. He rose wordlessly, easing the hot water bottle out of her death grip against her abdomen, and went back outside. When he returned, both items were replenished, but Tilieth shook her head, even as she received them.

“You need to eat,” she eventually said.

Abel blinked, having seeming forgotten to, and Tilieth rolled her eyes, exasperated. Then her husband laughed. “Honestly, stop thinking about mothering everyone, Tilieth. You’re not feeling well.”

Tilieth’s emotions swung the opposite way, tears drying in an instant as her cheeks flushed in steadily growing annoyance. Abel recognized the look, and he straightened as if a superior officer had just walked into the room. He nodded with a mumbled, hasty acknowledgement, heading outdoors once more, and Tilieth relaxed.

It took a while before her husband returned, but she could smell the food cooking. Thankfully, the ginger tea had helped enough that the mere smell didn’t make her vomit. Then she recognized the smell, and her anger siphoned out of her in a heartbeat.

Hylian herb soup. It was a simple recipe, bone broth, some veggies and hylian herbs thrown together. He always made it for her when she wasn’t feeling well. He hadn’t made it in years.

When Abel came inside, he only had one bowl, and it was small. She knew he must have eaten his own helping outside, but he still offered her some in case she could stomach it.

Sitting up a little, Tilieth was thankful to recognize that it wasn’t torture to move as much, and with the fresh hot water bottle, she managed some sips of the soup.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered finally.

Abel shook his head. “It’s not your fault, love. Besides, your moods are nothing compared to Lyra’s. I was terrified of that girl’s adolescence.”

Although mentioning their lost daughter still hurt after all these years, the comment did manage to make Tilieth laugh. Their dear Lyra had her father’s temper far more than her mother’s.

Slowly, Abel settled in the bed with his book, and Tilieth finally managed to eat something for the day before snuggling into her husband’s embrace. Tomorrow would be a better day. She knew that. But, with Abel, even today wasn’t all that bad.