[ Her tone turns stern, but her gaze is nothing but loving, softening the command in her words. ] The only thing you have to do is.... rest.

[ She knows him well-- well enough to know that he might feel restless or guilty for being idle or otherwise incapacitated, especially when there is some sort of vague pressure, from duty, prophecy, or upbringing to do things, help others, and put himself second, third, and always last.

She wants none of that, so she's giving him this new task. ] Rest, [ She repeats, gently, squeezing his hand, solidifying their mutual hold. ] and recover and take your time doing so. [ There's no one here that currently needs saving, and if he's worried about saving the world, she can simply hold his hand as he rests. ]

That's it, that's the only thing you need to do. Everyone you know will take care of anything else that needs to be done. [ She knows his family will help. She knows that she'd do all of this alone for him, if they don't. ] Stay on the couch, the bed, the back porch, wherever you want to all day, whatever is best. The chores, meals, laundry, all the animals... we'll handle it, do you hear me?

You only focus on allowing your mind to recover.