A/N; Un-Beta-ed, because my Beta-reader, DarkKaz Sempai ish…shall we say…deprived of computer time…so most of my writing is un-beta-ed and therefore, kinda crappy… Anyways, please read and review!

Standard disclaimer applies….


All in a Day's Work

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"Shit."

Amelia wasn't one to use foul language, but now, that was the only word that duly described what her situation was. The former Grado lancer pulled back her arm, thrusting her lance at the persistent Gwyllgi, who sank its fangs into her side earlier. Amelia watched as her lance harshly connected with one of its three heads, splattering bone and guts everywhere as she pulled the spear out. The three headed dog howled in anger, its whip-like tail thrashing violently around, a close call for the injured lancer girl. Its remaining two appendages reared their ugly heads, growling menacingly as they snapped at the Renais knight. Swiping the head of her lance viciously, she barely caught the monster across its two muzzles, as it jumped back to dodge her well aimed strike.

Clutching her bleeding side, the lancer swore under her breath, seething with frustration. These things were just so damn fast, and when you've just defeated one head, two others bite back at you. Hefting up her steel lance, she charged at the monstrosity, putting all her strength into this one blow. Her efforts were well rewarded with an ear splitting shriek as the canine's corpse collapsed in a bloody heap.

Her body was relieved of her growing restlessness as she witnessed the fall of the last fiend on the battlefield. All was good and well, there were no more monsters in sight, but death from an extreme loss of blood was still a viable option. Applying pressure to her wounded side, she felt the blood seep through the fabric of her glove, the warm liquid staining her delicate hand.

Hearing something scraping violently along the ground, Amelia twisted around, turning to face a slow moving Entombed. Its inhumanly elongated arms hung down at its sides, creating the sound she found oh so unpleasant. Watching the undead inch towards her, it rose up suddenly, its claws coming down on its target. But Amelia, faster and more wary than she gave the impression of, jumped back gracefully, leaving its poison laden talons to entrench themselves in the ground. Taking her time, she slung her blood covered lance across her shoulder; she brought her hand to her side, bringing forth a gleaming blade.

Sword fighting had been a pre-requisite to becoming a seated officer of sorts, and with her new ranking and amazing skills with the sword, she wanted to try them out in a real battle. Full of feral anticipation, the knight of Renais charged forward, swinging with deadly precision as the blade cut through the decaying atrocity. Its upper half toppled to the blood soaked ground, severed from Amelia's horizontal slash, but strangely…its legs were still walking awkwardly towards her.

Her eye twitched involuntarily for the fourth time that day as she eyed the wobbly pair of legs. Almost losing her lunch from pure disgust for the grisly sight, she managed to keep it in, as she dealt another blow, splitting it down the middle. The monster vanquished, she turned, attempting to walk off in search of others, when something grabbed the heel of her boot. Amelia nearly screamed at the sudden contact, but considering that it would be rather un-knightly of her, she bit her lip, looking down to see what kept her from proceeding further.

"W-what in the hell…?" Her face was a portrait of terror, confusion, and utter abhorrence for her assailant. A hand, composed of putrid flesh held down her foot, pulling the rest of its torso forward. She paled, utterly aghast and quite petrified, acted alarmingly. With frantic strokes and slices, she chopped up what ever was left of the Entombed, guaranteeing that it would never come after her again. Sheathing her sword, she made note to look around to see if all the monsters had been eradicated before relaxing...

Glancing around, the newly promoted knight-sergeant saw naught but the bodies of the monsters they'd been sent to take care of. Hunching over, Amelia gingerly touched her side, her gloved hand soaked in blood. She took in a deep breath, and nearly gagged at the impurity of the air. The cadavers lay, dismembered and strewn across the flatlands. It was truly repulsive, the smell of all that blood was overwhelming, but in this line of work, one had to get used to it. It had been a whole year and a half since the whole Lyon and the Demon King incident, but the dark beings were still roaming free about Magvel, and it was up to knights like them to clean up the mess…

Speaking of 'them', she had just realized that someone was missing. Her partner had been fighting alongside her all day, but now…there was no sign of him. An unfamiliar sense of fear and anxiety registered in her mind. He was missing on the lines of a battlefield, and in battle, that only meant one thing. The lancer girl shook her head, her golden locks flying about her face.

No.

She willed herself not to think about what could have happened to him, but a little voice in her head taunted her callously. Maybe he's lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding to death, because you didn't get there in time to save him. You promised to protect him, to always be there for him, but where are you now? You're not by his side when he's in need of you…What kind of halfhearted promise was that? An image flashed into her mind, his charming chocolate colored eyes, dilated in shock and fear, his body lay broken and bleeding, and he whispered a plea for help as he breathed his last.

"No…!"

Clearing her head once more, she banished those terrible thoughts, as she grabbed her lance in hand and rushed off in search of her captain, her friend, her-

A barrage of pain abruptly struck her side, causing the cavalier to double over in agony. Coughing, she tasted the coppery liquid, dripping out the corner of her mouth, trickling down her chin. She hastily wiped it away as she stood up shakily as she used her lance for support. The images and thoughts running wildly through her mind were enough to make her press on, to find him, alive. Wholly ignoring the pain, she darted off, her emerald eyes, glimmering with tears, scanning frantically among the fallen.

As she traveled the expanse of the battlegrounds, she spotted a familiar figure lying on the ground, his armor crested with the emblem of the Renais militia. "Franz!" She called out his name in desperation, hoping her words would have some assenting effect on him. Amelia dropped to her knees beside his still form, a hand reached out to him. The tears spilled over as she felt his shallow breathing on the tip of her delicate fingers.

She'd almost been too late, but he was alive. Rummaging through her pack, she brought out a blue vial, bringing it to Franz's lips as she gently poured it in. After a minute or two, his breathing was more regulated, and deeper, but he wasn't out of the proverbial woods yet. She still had to do something about the wounds that gaped across his chest and leg.

To drag an unconscious Franz back to Castle Renais would be murder, since it took them half a day's ride to get to where they are now, and their not so trusty steeds had run off when the battle had started. On the downside, if they stayed amongst the piles of rotting carcasses, the copious amount of blood would undoubtedly attract more bloodthirsty eyesores, thrusting two battered knights into combat again in the midst of impenetrable darkness, as nightfall was fast approaching. She knew for a fact that there was an inhabitable cavern just west of them, near the Frelian border. It wasn't too far, but in her condition, she didn't know if they were going to make it. Amelia hung her lance across one shoulder, as she needed both hands to move the incapacitated cavalier.

Pulling Franz along by his shoulders, she mentally apologized for the rudimentary arrangements. The slim cavalier ground her teeth together, straining to drag him further along. Damn. Was he heavy or what… Not only was she not making too much progress, all the strenuous work had aggravated her wound, causing blood to gush out violently. In her current condition, her chances of saving Franz from the clutches of death seemed grim, and her own chances of survival were grimmer still.

Within a few minutes, the mountainside in which the cave was sited in came into view through the falling darkness. Amelia's heart swelled with reprieve, but her body felt anything but that. She'd felt faint, her sight blurring here and there, her hands had grown cold and clammy, and all the color had drained from her face. She lost a mass amount of blood in the past half an hour, downing the remainder of the elixir she gave Franz stemmed the blood flow a bit, but she was running out of time. With the bit of timber left lying in the cave and the small tinder box she always kept with her, she had a fire roaring in naught but a minute.

In the dimness of the firelight Amelia shrugged off her armor, leaving her in a tattered red blouse, the side, frayed and covered in blood from the Gwyllgi's attack. Forgoing modesty for the sake of getting something done, she slipped off the blood soaked shirt, wincing at the action. With the medicinal salve she kept in her satchel for emergencies, she doused her wound in it, feeling the burning as the skin began to mend itself. Also, conveniently stored in her bag, a roll of bandages, she wrapped it tightly around herself, tying it off on one end. Clothed in naught but a ridiculously short skirt and a plain sleeveless white shirt that stopped at her midsection, she turned her attention to Franz.

She gently unlatched his leg and arm guards, putting his guarded footwear aside, and gently pulling off his scarred armor. Staring at his prostrate form, he was clad in a green tunic, but soon enough, with shy hands, she undressed his torso, eyeing the deep cut. Getting to work immediately, she dressed and bound his slice in clean, white bandages.

Taking a deep breath, she glared at the scratch on his leg with an animosity that could rival Prince Innes' hatred towards King Ephraim. The fates were cruel to stick the young woman with this predicament, but things don't always work out in your favor. Her hands, now shaking and clammy, inched towards his belt, undoing the clasp. She swallowed hard, as her face flushed in embarrassment; she slid his trousers off laying them next to the rest of his discarded clothing. After all the first aid was taken care of, Amelia ventured towards the pile of forgotten supplies to find rations of some usefulness. Rummaging through the packs and boxes, she found a blanket, one blanket, where there were two of them…

Crying out in exasperation, she asked what she did to deserve such punishment, but a part of her enjoyed the provocative circumstances. In the end, after much decision making, her will and sense of pride and honor won. The young cavalier draped the blanket over his sleeping figure, walking over to the blazing fire; she crouched down, poking it with a wayward branch. She hugged her knees to her chest, despite the slight twinge of pain she felt course through her side. As a whistle of wind blew in, Amelia shivered at the sudden cold contact. Renais nights were pretty frigid, though it was only early autumn, but at this rate, she'd freeze to death before dawn came around.

She stole a quick glance at her sleeping prince, her face turning the shade of King Joshua's crimson locks, as she watched his peaceful expression. The lancer smiled. Today was a good day, though they both nearly lost their lives…but now, Amelia was content with the situation. As another strong breeze filled the small cavern, she frowned. Correction, almost everything was perfect…only if it wasn't so darn cold…Glimpsing at the sleeping Franz again, she suddenly had the urge to crawly under the covers with him. It definitely would be warmer, and on the plus side, she'd be keeping him warm too, preventing him from catching his death of cold…

Her justification wasn't absolutely solid, but it would do. She kicked off her long boots, throwing them around haphazardly, as she crept over to him, slipping under the coverlet. Snuggling closer to him, she laid her head against his well toned chest, a playful smile stretched across her lips as his deep and steady breath lulled her into a fitful slumber. It was all in a day's work to be dispatched, nearly killed, and to have everything work out in the end. Yes, of course, it was all in a day's work…