Words Yet Unspoken

Chapter I

After Midnight

The gatekeeper outside of Lhant's seemingly impervious stone walls had fallen asleep long before they arrived. The unexpected visitor grimaced as his horse stopped abruptly, jarring him as his last remaining soldier shouted for the town to open its gates. A small eternity seemed to pass before they were finally let in, but even as the sound of stone scrapping hurt his years and kept him anchored in wakefulness, the manor was still some distance away.

The door seemed to stand dauntingly far, growing no closer with every step his horse took. The rain continued its steady downpour, though it had long since soaked through his traveling cloak. He winced as a gust of wind blew the rain into his face, but did not protest aloud.

"We're almost there, Your Majesty," the soldier reported.

Richard nodded dully but didn't voice any response. The soldier hastened his pace up the stairs and past the fountains of the elegant front yard. He glanced at the fountain to his right, which was just on the brink of overflowing from all of the rain. However, when he looked to the left, an expression of puzzlement settled over his face when he saw that the matching fountain was in ruins.

When the king saw the soldier's expression, he was almost glad that they had reached the door and he could go without giving an explanation. The memories of his actions and the time in the Ghardia Shaft was still just too fresh.

~oOo~

It was fortunate that Asbel had fallen asleep in his office, for he heard the knock on the front door and woke up instantly. He blinked blearily as he glanced at the clock; his candles were just about burned out, but there was still just enough light to see the time when he squinted. At that late hour, Frederic would have already gone home.

The lord disentangled himself from his desk and tripped over a stack of books hiding in the shadows of the poor lighting. He caught himself on the desk before he haplessly fell over and grabbed a candle. He saw someone dismounting a horse unsteadily as he rushed toward the door. He opened it to see only two people standing outside his door, one in full armor and the other with familiar blond hair falling around a too pale face.

"Lord of Lhant, I am here with the King of Windor. We ask that you fulfill your obligation to the crown and allow his majesty to see your healer."

Asbel glanced from the soldier then up to the hooded figure who stood, albeit leaning heavily against the horse. He barely listened to the soldier's formal speech as he hurried over to Richard.

"Richard, are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

The wind blew relentlessly, blowing the king's cloak aside to show that he had one hand clenched over a wound. Blood stained the once regally white color of his friend's attire. Asbel was at the king's side faster than the soldier. The lord caught his friend when his knees buckled and quickly pulled his arm over his shoulder to support him.

"Just lean on me, we have to get you taken care of," Asbel insisted. "We've got medical supplies."

"His majesty informed me that there were healers in Lhant," the soldier said with a pointed frown.

"They just aren't here right now," Asbel said regretfully. "Cheria left to travel with a relief organization and Sophie is visiting friends in Fendel…"

"That seems negligent," the soldier said disapprovingly.

"Don't argue," Richard interjected shortly, though his voice was strained.

Asbel guided his friend inside and over to the nearest couch. Though the lord was reluctant to leave his friend's side, he knew that sending the soldier to find the medical supplies would only take a foolishly long time. He dashed to one of the rooms in the back of the first floor to grab their seldom used disinfectant and bandages. He brushed the dust off of the top of the box and dashed back out the king.

The soldier had gotten Richard to lay down and removed the layers of clothes covering the injury, revealing a long wound that ran down the king's torso. Asbel knelt beside his friend and quickly pressed some of the sanitary cloth against the wound to lessen the bleeding. It didn't seem too dangerously deep, but he was still losing blood.

Asbel looked over at the soldier. "Can you go to the first house past the windmills and ask for Frederic Barnes?"

"Is he a healer?"

"No, but he can help," Asbel said shortly. "Please, go quickly!"

The soldier looked to the king uncertainly.

"Go," Richard echoed.

With that said, the soldier jumped to his feet and dashed out the door. Asbel heard the door slam closed behind the man, but he didn't look up. He adjusted the material to cover more of the wound and continued to put pressure on it, though the cloth was quickly being dyed red.

"I'm sorry for imposing on you," Richard said, though his voice was strained.

Asbel couldn't help but smile weakly at the way his friend always managed to keep a formal tone, no matter what the situation was. Richard grimaced when the disinfectant touched his skin, but didn't complain. Asbel watched as Richard's hand clenched around the blanket from the pain and felt half tempted to place his own hand over the king's, but he was occupied with the more important matter of slowing the bleeding. On top of that, it wouldn't be appropriate.

"There's no need to apologize for it," Asbel said. "What happened?"

"There was a significant nest of monsters near the ports," he said, though his voice became quieter as he spoke.

Richard broke off in mid-sentence when he started to cough.

"You can tell me more later," he said quickly. "Just rest for now."

They finished cleaning and bandaging the king's wounds after Frederic arrived, handling the situation calmly and telling them about a lengthy store of his youthful days as a guard. Too unsettled to sit still, Asbel went up to the closet in the upper hall to find dry clothes for Richard.

Asbel wasn't completely sure if Richard lost consciousness or fell asleep, but the bleeding had all but stopped and his breathing was consistent. Frederic assured them that the king would be fine either way and launched into a story about helping a comrade who had a much more severe run in with a thorn bush and came out fine.

They moved the king into the open bedroom on the ground floor. Frederic decided to stay for the remainder of the night and get a head start on the day's duties while the soldier who came with Richard insisted that he would stay awake to stand guard, though the man looked exhausted and ready to nod off in his armor.

Asbel washed Richard's blood off of his hands, watching as the red was diluted and slipped away down the drain. He shrugged out of his coat, which also somehow had gotten stained with blood, and headed toward the guest room. He pulled a chair away from the desk in the room and set it near Richard's bed, resolved not to leave his friend's side.

Though Frederic tried to make light of the situation, the Lord of Lhant remained worried. He knew that soldiers from Barona would arrive by the afternoon at the latest, most likely eager to escort their king back to the capital. Though he respected Richard's dedication to his goal of making amends to the country, the fact that he laid in one of the beds in Lhant Manor with small spots of blood seeping through the bandages was a clear sign that he was taking it too far.

Asbel suspected that his friend had been going against what was best for his own health, but the situation before him solidified the guesses. He looked up to the clock, only to see that it was still a few hours before dawn. He leaned against the back of the chair tiredly, wondering how soon Richard would return to Barona, while Asbel remained chained to Lhant.

This is really more of a prologue than a first chapter, but I'm counting it as a chapter just because doesn't have prologue support. :'D

Thanks to the lovely Nienyan for proofreading! :D I'm aiming to update this fic biweekly, with an update on the 15th and 30th of every month.

I continue with my pattern of corny ass titles.