The battle had been absolutely brutal.
Of course, it would be the Mighty Nein's luck to stumble into the sleepy little town of Marduek right when a group of traveling bandits decided to case the town. The small number of crownsguard stationed there were in no condition to take on the group on their own. Naturally, the Mighty Nein would help; especially when the prospect of gold was involved.
It was a difficult fight, but they muddled their way through. The bandits had obviously scoped out the town well, judging by their confidence and ease of attack, but the addition of extra fighters shook things up a little. Molly caught glimpses of his fellow travelers as he whirled around the battlefield, scimitars glowing: Nott, shooting her crossbow at an attacker who had stationed himself on top of a cart laden with goods; Jester, healing an injury on Caleb's shoulder before the wizard turned sharply to his left and shot dazzling flames at a masked enemy trying to flank them. There was Fjord about twenty feet away swinging his falchion left and right, holding off three bandits at once. Yasha had wandered off again shortly before they reached town, like she was wont to do; Molly wasn't sure whether he was thankful she was out of harm's way, or sorry that they didn't have her additional force.
He finally swiped his assailant down with a hard thrust to her gut. In the brief reprise that followed, he scanned the chaos for his last party member. His eyes finally fell on Beau being pinned against a building about ten yards away, her staff fallen to her feet as she grappled with her attacker. The man had his sword held to her throat, and it was with a vicious desperation in her gaze that Beau held him off, her brute strength just barely managing to keep him from separating her head from the rest of her body.
Molly immediately rushed forward, making sure to keep out of the man's eyesight as he went. Beau's gaze met his for only a brief second before Molly took the bandit out at the knees, surprising him from behind. In a fury, he swiped at the man's throat while he was down, mirroring the action had been taking against Beau moments before, then turned his gaze back to the monk when the man stayed down. "You okay?"
Beau's eyes were wild, but she nodded at him. Molly leaned down and picked up her staff. "Good girl," he said, handing it to her with a clap on the shoulder. And with that, they both dove in opposite directions back into the fray.
...
It took about another ten minutes of battle to scare the remaining bandits into retreat. The Mighty Nein slowly regrouped, helping where they could along the way. Jester managed to heal the worst of the injuries, using up her last spell slot on a nasty gash to Fjord's side. They were all dirty, tired, and ready for a drink. Luckily, the head of the local crownsguard, a tough gnome woman by the name of Hearth, offered to put them up at the local inn, which had managed to escape the incursion relatively unscathed. When Hearth explained the situation to the innkeeper, the older human was more than delighted to help, offering drinks on the house for the "heroes". The Mighty Nein were glad to accept.
Molly was glad to settle in with an ale or two at a table near the fire while her nursed his scrapes and bruises. Their day had been tiring enough in their travels just to get to this town, let alone the fight they had just endured. Beau immediately excused herself to clean up upstairs, while the rest of the group settled in. The talk around the table was lively. Molly made a couple of jokes, and was glad for the smirks and smatterings of laughter that he got.
It was when the topic moved on to Jester trying to discover the validity of some of the things she had "learned" about orcs from Tusk Love that Caleb finally set down his ale and stood up. "Well, we have had a long day. I think I'd like to go to bed. Would you like to come, Nott?"
Nott set down her drink as well, and hopped off her stool. "Goodnight, everyone!"
Molly watched them walk away as a drunk Jester cajoled Fjord about numbers. The most sober of the lot, Molly couldn't help but feel a bit of worry as time went on and Beau hadn't reappeared downstairs. If Molly hadn't been concerned about Beau's uncharacteristic silence after the battle had ended, he was definitely concerned now. Beau was always the last one at the table. Seeing that Jester was keeping Fjord preoccupied, Molly quickly made up his mind slipped upstairs a minute later.
As he approached, Molly noticed that the door to her room was cracked open a small bit, as if she tried to shut the door but didn't quite manage it. Nonetheless, Molly rapped on the frame of the door a few times. "Beau?" He called out. After waiting for a few moments without an answer, he slowly pushed the door open. Beau was sitting on the edge of her bed, her back ramrod straight as she stared at the opposite wall. She didn't turn her head as Molly approached. "Beau?" he said again, but she didn't seem to acknowledge his presence.
Molly carefully crouched down in front of her to stare into her eyes. They were glazed over, almost as if she wasn't there. It was almost like Caleb, back in the mines. It seemed that she hadn't cleaned up after all, as her face and neck were still covered in the blood, sweat, and dirt of battle, and Molly was slightly alarmed to notice that Beau seemed to be shaking, though she seemed to be trying hard to hold back the tremors.
"Beau, can you hear me?" Molly asked softly.
At the sound of his voice so close to her, Beau flinched as if coming out of a trance. Her eyes locked onto Molly as if seeing him for the first time, and while she didn't stop shaking, she let out a small "Molly," through gritted teeth.
He studied her for a moment more. Harsh shadows fell across her face from the moonlight streaming in through the window. He briefly got up to light the candle near her bed, filling the room with a yellow glow, before coming back before her, talking as he went. "You don't have to speak if you don't want to, or if you can't. But I need to to answer my questions, okay?" Beau's chin moved down a fraction in a nod, and that in itself was concerning. Beau was usually a pretty talkative woman, and never missed a chance to banter back at Molly. "Were you hurt in the battle?"
Another nod. Molly's eyes were immediately drawn to the trail of dried blood that led into her hairline. "May I see? That will involve touching you."
There was a bit of a pause this time, but eventually Beau nodded again. Molly made sure Beau's eyes were tracking his hand as he carefully cupped her chin, tilting her head closer to the light. He brought up his other hand to carefully prod at the cut along her hairline, and was relieved to find it to be shallow. As long as it was cleaned, it'd be nothing to worry about. "This looks like it'll be okay," he said, gesturing to the wound. "You just need to keep it clean, of course. Are you hurt anywhere else?" He tried to think back to earlier, but he couldn't recall noticing any pained movement.
Beau started to shake her head, but winced halfway through and aborted the gesture. Concerned, Molly slowly brought his hand around, carefully feeling the vertebrae in her neck. It was then upon closer inspection that he noticed the long, clean across the front of her throat, which had perviously been hidden from sight amongst the grime. Her movement had made it open again slightly, and it was lazily bleeding from one side. Molly looked up at Beau to find her eyes had squeezed shut, and he quickly withdrew his hands. His expression softened. "Darling, we need to take care of this."
Beau's shaking increased.
"I would ask Jester to heal you, but she's all tapped out, and I don't think this can wait. Do you think you can let me help you?"
Beau clenched her teeth, but she was experienced enough with injuries to know that Molly was right. She jerked her head in a nod once again.
"I have something that can numb the area, if that would help. Would you like that?" At Beau's confirmation, he held out a hand, and while edge didn't take it, she followed him as he led her down the hall to his room.
After settling Beau on his bed (it was convenient that the innkeeper had agreed to letting him have a private room tonight) Molly set about to lighting candles and gathering all the necessary supplies. He pulled the small end table and chair in the room over in front of Beau, laying out a needle, silk thread, and a small jar, as well as some cloths and a small bowl of water. He focused on the latter two first, wetting a cloth before holding it up to Beau. "You need to get cleaned up first. Would you like to do it, or should I?"
Beau's grabbed the cloth from his hand and methodically started scrubbing from her hairline down. Though her hand was still trembling, she managed to hold back any expressions of pain that came from cleaning her wounds. When she was done, she handed the cloth back to Molly, whom set it aside before picking up the small jar and uncorking it. "This," he said, scooping out a bit and warming it in his hands, "is an old recipe that I've used countless times on my own injuries. I promise you that you'll feel no pain after I apply it. All sensation will be dulled in that area. Are you ready?"
At Beau's go ahead, Molly brought his hands forward and started to rub the cream onto her throat, careful to avoid agitating the wound further. When he finished he wiped his hands off on another cloth, then ran the needle under the flame of a candle for a moment before threading it with a deft hand. "Ready?" he asked again. Beau shut her eyes, then nodded.
Molly gently cupped his hand under her chin and tilted her head upwards slightly before Beau felt the familiar tugging sensation of stitches being applied. There was a noticeable look of relief on her face when no pain came with the action. Molly began humming an old tune from the circus as he worked, keeping his stitches small and neat.
"I'm quite good at sewing," he told her after a while. "A particular passion of mine. Necessary, too, to keep my coat in decent shape. I did most of the work myself, you know." Beau's eyes slowly opened again as she became more used to the sensation. "We didn't exactly have any healers on hand in the circus, either, so everybody eventually picked up a thing or two. This was my particular talent. Especially useful whenever certain townsfolk showed their... disapproval of our "immoral" establishment." He chuckled. "Yasha sent them on their way every time, though altercations sometimes just couldn't be avoided quickly enough." He tied off his last stitch, then set the needle aside and brushed off his hands. "There, all finished. We'll see if Jester can finish things up tomorrow, but at least you won't bleed out on your pillow tonight."
Beau carefully felt along the thread spanning her numbed throat, then looked at Molly. Her mouth opened and closed for a minute, searching for words, and Molly sat there silently until she found them. "I almost died," she rasped.
"Yes," Molly said simply.
"I almost fucking died," she repeated, her shaking increasing. She repeated it once more before the shaking became too much, and finally, tears started to fall as the shock began to wear off. Molly moved to sit next to Beau on the bed, and she didn't object when he brought his arm around her shoulder, bringing her to lean against him as her strength suddenly gave out.
"Shhh," Molly soothed, rubbing her arm as she cried." Its alright, sweetheart. Yes, you almost died. It fucking sucks, and it's terrifying as hell, but you survived. You survived because you're strong as fuck and still have something to prove, and you'll be able to cope with it. It'll be alright."
They must have sat there for a good half an hour before Beau's sobs started to quiet down, becoming softer and softer until Molly eventually realized that Beau had fallen asleep against him. It was a testament to how exhausted she was that she didn't wake as he picked her up, bringing her back across the hall and to her room, grateful for her sake that Jester had not yet made an appearance. He made quick work of slipping off her shoes and tucking her into bed, blowing out the candle and bathing the room in moonlight. With one last glance to her sleeping form, he sighed before carefully shutting the door behind him.
Perhaps he should check on Jester and Fjord and make sure they hadn't drunk themselves unconscious.