#stronk husband go brrrr

[mydadleft471]

Stubborn

Summary: Messmer hurt his ankle and is confined to his bed for a week. His thoughts spiral when you, his darling husband, take care of him.

Spoilers for Elden Ring and SOTE. No warnings, just some fluff and Messmer's serpents being as needy as he is lmao.

This was a request from anonymous! I'll link the post with all their wonderful prompts here. Thank you for requesting and I hope I did you justice, hubby-anon!

As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging! It never fails to make my day better! Enjoy! <3

Messmer had never been so humiliated yet happy in his whole life.

He blames his serpents for his misfortune. Instead of helping Messmer watch where he’s going, they were looking at you, per usual. He can’t necessarily blame them, you did look stunning. He had just gifted you a red cloak almost identical to his with his insignia on it, and you looked stunning in red. His husband, his beloved consort, was wearing his color and his insignia proudly. He couldn’t take his eye off of you either.

Unfortunately, that meant he was half-blind, and he stumbled over a table like a lovesick fool and sprained his ankle.

If it weren’t for your love and care, he believes he would’ve died right there from mortification. 

When you heard him fall, you rushed over to him immediately and tried to help him stand, which led to Messmer hissing out in pain when he put pressure on his right foot. You had thrown caution to the wind and told him to hold on, and suddenly, he was being hoisted into the air by his husband, who was much smaller than him. You didn’t know Messmer’s face could get so red. It would’ve been funny to you had your Lord not been injured. You carried him to your shared bed and immediately began poking and prodding, but you could tell he needed someone well-versed in healing.

After summoning one of his medics, you had (thankfully) made up a story about how you two were sparring and you knocked him off balance, causing him to twist his ankle uncomfortably. He was silently thanking whatever greater power gave him his husband in that moment.

His medic instructed Messmer to stay off his foot for a week at the very least and bound it tightly in wrappings to ensure everything would heal right. You jokingly told him that at least it wasn’t you who got hurt, as demigods heal much faster than humans. You would’ve been confined to your bed for a month, perhaps longer. He merely shook his head at that. He hated reminders of how frail you could be compared to him.

A few days had passed since he had initially hurt himself, and he was getting restless. You’d bring him books to keep his mind occupied or talk with him for hours. Your company was a welcome luxury during his time stuck in bed. But at night, sleep would evade him. He’d look down at your smaller frame curled into him, resting peacefully, and wonder. Though he loved your thorough attention and care, he grew uncomfortable being so indebted to you, more so than he already was. He knew he’d never be able to repay your kindness, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try. It was during times like these where he’d endlessly take and take that he wondered why his darling husband had married him in the first place.

These thoughts had followed him well-after the sun came up. Perhaps you knew of them, as you always did. He found he could hide little from his perceptive consort.

“Hey,” you began, smoothing down a few strands of hair. “You’re much more handsome when you smile.”

His frown doesn’t budge.

As if infectious, a frown spreads onto your face. Messmer wants to kiss it away, but feels too horrendous to do so. “Do you need anything? Or are you in pain?” Your eyes widen in worry.

“I wish to get up.”

You place a hand on his chest, firm yet gentle. “It hasn’t been a week yet. I’m not letting you get up.”

“Have you any idea how humiliating it is to be carried around like a child?” His voice holds an edge to it and you flinch.

“You carry me around all the time and don’t seem to have an issue with it.”

“There’s a difference. I should be the one caring for thee. I should not be lying here, useless.”

“You’re injured, my love. Rest is necessary for you to heal. And I don’t mind caring for you at all.”

“Thou hast given so much for me. I wonder when I will cease to take from thee.” He doesn’t look at you, too ashamed.

“Husband, I made an oath to care for you when we married. We both did.” You sit down on the bed beside him. “This relationship isn’t one-sided, if that’s what you’re worried about. You do plenty for me.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for starters, you’ve given me a home. I’m safe, fed, and comfortable here. I have you, the love of my life, who makes me happy each and every day. Do you need me to keep going?”

He looks at you, his eye shimmering. The love of your life?

“No. I am terrified to take too much, to tip the scales too much towards myself, and lose thee altogether.” He admits in a shaky voice.

You cup his cheek and look at him with nothing but love in your eyes. “That will never happen, Messmer. I promise you.”

“I apologize for my endless anxieties.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You give him a small kiss on his lips and he sighs. Smiling, you begin to move the covers off of Messmer.

“I’m going to check your ankle, okay?”

He nods at you.

Carefully, you move his leg so his ankle is dangling off the bed. Kneeling on the floor, you inspect his wrappings. They remain tight and you notice his foot isn’t swollen or splotched with bruising. You gently run your fingers over his skin and look at Messmer for any signs of pain. You see none, so you continue and unwrap his ankle. The bandages fall to the floor and you press your fingers into his muscles and tendons tenderly.

“Any pain?” You shoot him a worried glance.

“None, beloved.” He grins at you.

You continue to press along his foot, but there’s no sign of damage or pain. Messmer experimentally rolls his ankle around and you’re relieved to see that he can do so easily. He moves to put his foot on the floor as if to stand, but you stop him.

“Not until your medic clears you to walk.” He rolls his eye at you. One of his serpents nips at his ear and he swats at it.

“Bothersome pest. I shalt ne’er see the day in which they take my side.”

You chuckle and stand up. “Stay in bed. I’m going to fetch the medic.” 

You swiftly exit the room and begin descending the stairs. Guards bowed their heads and greeted you as you passed, and you gave them a curt nod and continued. Passing a few shades and scholars in the Keep, you wound the corner and knocked on the medic’s door. She opened the door and curtsied.

“Does Lord Messmer require me?”

You nod. “His ankle looks much better. There’s very little bruising and he can move it without pain.”

“And he is still wanting to get up and walk on his own?”

You lay a hand on your face and shake your head. “You have no idea.” She laughs. The servants of the Shadow Keep always found you easier to talk to than Messmer. He was kind and gentle, but they couldn’t see past his tall and intimidating facade. You, on the other hand, were the beloved consort who went out of their way to make others’ lives better, and for that, you were respected.

“I suppose I should go see him then.” She walks back into her room to grab her bag, tossing a few things inside, then closing it and rejoining you in the hallway.

“I don’t want you to tell him he can walk because he’s pouty.” You say as you walk together.

“Oh, never, my Lord. I am sure you’ll keep him in line, just as you always do.” She smiles at you.

“Of course. Someone has to.”

You reach your room and enter, half-expecting to see Messmer out of bed and walking around, but he has stuck to his word. He remains just as you left him, his serpents perched on his shoulder awaiting your return.

The medic bows. “Good morning, Lord Messmer. How are you feeling?”

“As my consort surely informed thee, I am in no pain.”

“I am glad to hear that. Allow me to ensure you are okay to walk.” Messmer nods his head and she walks over to him, kneeling to inspect his ankle.

You watch from the other side of the bed. Messmer looks unfazed as she touches his ankle. She moves his foot from side-to-side and prods at the skin. His serpents slither across the sheets and you pet them. They nuzzle into your touch and flick their tongues happily. Messmer shakes his head at their incessant need for attention.

The medic stands, grabbing her bag. “You seem to be fully healed, my Lord. You may walk, but try to limit yourself for another day or two.” She looks over at you. “And please, no sparring.”

“Thank you. I’ll make sure he listens.” Messmer shoots you a look.

She curtsies once more and you lead her to the door. The serpents try to coil around your arm to prevent you from leaving, but you slip out of their grasp and promise to return.

“As always, please let me know if you need my assistance.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

“If he sprains his ankle again, though, I might forbid him from walking altogether.” You both laugh. “Farewell, my Lord.”

She exits and closes the door behind her. You walk back over to the bed where the serpents are, unsurprisingly, waiting for you. They hiss in greeting as if they didn’t just see you.

“Needy things. Not unlike your master.” You smirk.

“Wilt thou help me stand?” He says, ignoring your comment.

You nod and make your way over to his side of the bed. You wrap his arm around your neck and slowly lift him. He gingerly places his foot on the ground and slowly applies more pressure to it.

“How do you feel?” You look up at him.

“Unsteady from not walking in days, but no pain, beloved.”

“Do you think you can walk around the room a few times?”

“I believe so.”

He begins to take a shaky step forward and you ensure he doesn’t fall or lose his balance. He leans on you as he begins to walk around the room. The first pass is a little sloppy and takes a few minutes, but you’re glad he’s pacing himself. The second time is easier, and by the third time you go around the room, he’s removed almost all his weight from you, but still holds onto you just in case. He looks happy.

You deposit him back onto the bed and hug him. He wraps his long arms around you and noses into your hair.

“Whatever is this for, husband?”

“Am I not allowed to hug you?” You tease.

“What a ridiculous notion.”

“I’m just happy you’re okay, is all.”

His heart flutters in his chest and he holds you tighter. His spiraling thoughts are quiet and the only thing he can think about is you. Your body pressed against his, your soft breathing, and the earthy smell of your hair. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone so caring and patient, but he will not take you for granted.

“I love thee, husband.” His voice is soft and tender, almost a whisper,

“And I you. Please don’t ever forget that.” You say into his chest.

“Thou wilt not allow me to with how thee cares for me.”

“Good.”