Post by Lady Edfeil on Sept 1, 2012 10:16:43 GMT -5
Near three months he had been gone. Within those months she'd oft considered what she would do, or say when he came back. When nights or evenings were quiet, she had envisioned his return. A ship from Fryseland or from France? Would he be announced? Would he ride in on one of the large war horses? Would she be seated within the hall, or would 't be night and people hesitate over waking her? Would she be at the table or at her tapestry frame. She had found a thousand scenario's, but none had involved Dieter's terse words, of tending to a body. And His Grace in the infirmary. The mere fact that he he had used his uncle's titles and nae his name had shouted his displeasure. She'd nae rushed to. 't had taken a few minutes to make the connection, and then.. she had nae known what to do or say. A maelstrom of thoughts on which after a few heartbeats worry had come floating on top. Why was he in the infirmary???
She'd gone, nae even knocked as what her wont. And found herself facing the man she had bound herself to, stripped to the waist, laying back on while the second mate of the Gloriarc was reopening a long cut across his chest that had closed without being cleaned well. She'd seen enough in her years in Windstorm to recognize such a wound. Nae a fall, nae a scrape against a branch when riding too fast. The long line was made by steel cutting through flesh, and thank heavens, considering Mr. Oden's calm it seemed nae to have gone past the ribs.
Her words were.. ackward. It was.. strange seeing him thus, wounded, nae garbed in the formality that created a safety between them. Despite the.. strangeness of seeing him thus, it was almost as iffen a silent weight lifted. Safe. He was back.. and he was safe. Thier conversation was nae long. After the clear liquid seeping from the wound was replaced by the red flow of blood, she knew what would come. And she knew her presence would make 't harder. He'd nae wish to witness as Mr. Oden would take needle to flesh. And thus... she had gone, with the promise of answers to come, to questions she'd nae dared ask earlier.
She'd gone, nae even knocked as what her wont. And found herself facing the man she had bound herself to, stripped to the waist, laying back on while the second mate of the Gloriarc was reopening a long cut across his chest that had closed without being cleaned well. She'd seen enough in her years in Windstorm to recognize such a wound. Nae a fall, nae a scrape against a branch when riding too fast. The long line was made by steel cutting through flesh, and thank heavens, considering Mr. Oden's calm it seemed nae to have gone past the ribs.
Her words were.. ackward. It was.. strange seeing him thus, wounded, nae garbed in the formality that created a safety between them. Despite the.. strangeness of seeing him thus, it was almost as iffen a silent weight lifted. Safe. He was back.. and he was safe. Thier conversation was nae long. After the clear liquid seeping from the wound was replaced by the red flow of blood, she knew what would come. And she knew her presence would make 't harder. He'd nae wish to witness as Mr. Oden would take needle to flesh. And thus... she had gone, with the promise of answers to come, to questions she'd nae dared ask earlier.