A/N: This story will be told in short, interconnected chapters. Reviews and prompts are most welcome.
Ship(s): None. Eventual helsa.
Words: 410
Sing me a song of a lass that is gone,
Say, could that lass be I?
All that was home
First came the feeling: something was hitting at her kidneys continuously, her head hurt with a horrible intensity and she was sure she was bleeding; it was wet and the water was rocking her in its embrace; the coldness was biting her skin. Generally, not a very pleasant way to awake but she had had worse. Maybe.
Then came the sound: a noisy river, the rudely cheerful singing of the birds.
Then came the odor: of rain and humidity, rotten leaves and wet grass.
She opened her eyes. The autumn sun was already turning into a winter one - high and cool it shone above the rotting red leaves that had fallen on the beaten tracks. The river was full and lively - a few ducks decided on trying their luck in the North, were swimming and looking enviously above towards the swooping pigeon flights.
She - a girl? a woman? an old maid? - lost track of the time that passed as she stared into the cold nothingness above of her, blue eyes unseeing the vapor coming from her mouth and rising towards the uncaring sky in curls of smoke. Then:
A horrible, lung-wrenching gasp. "Help," she choked, but her voice came strangled and small. "Help!" she managed again. No one came for a long while and she lay there, trying unsuccessfully to rise up while being held back by the intolerable heaviness of her head. "Help," she croaked again, pitifully.
But this time she was finally helped. For a chaotic, confusing moment she felt someone's arms encircling her from behind and drawing her out of the riverside.
"Shh, it's alright, you're alright," the lad said smoothly as he briefly set her on the muddy earth. "I've got you, I-" But young man, who had been tucking away dirty bangs behind her ear, paused. "Majesty?" he breathed.
Their eyes met. She almost yelled as she recognized him, shouted... But all words failed her, as her body shut down, finally knowing that she would be saved never-the-less.
And then there was nothing. Her mind was pleasantly empty of memories - fresh and old - scarring at her very soul like a wound that was too frequently opened. All the images and sounds were quickly sucked in by a vacuum and came swallowed by the waves already behind her. Until truly nothing remained.
When she awoke for the second time that day, her mind was like a white canvas washed clean.