Darkness. It fills his vision. Shouts. They fill his ears. Blood. It fills his mouth. Earth. It presses against his face.
A firm hand grips his shoulder, turning him over. A figure, shadowy and blurry, hovers over him. Enemy? His senses are too blurry to tell. The form holds a weapon above him. A shout is heard. A warning? Perhaps, but this is form obviously intends to kill him.
His hand shuffles threw the dirt. His weapon, where is it? There. His hand grasps the hilt. Flinging the axe toward his enemy, he hears shrieking. Pain. It is what saves him now and kills his enemy. The shadowy figure disappears from his view.
Breathing; it is difficult. Standing, he looks around. Their forces overwhelm the enemy's. All was persuading well then this? Keeping his balance upon his unsure legs is challenging. Another shadowy form approaches him.
Lu Bu. His vision is clear enough to allow him that knowledge. His hearing, too, is suddenly returning. Why is Lu Bu angry? His words hold aggression. He tries to mouth words, but only spits blood. Pain. It is now his enemy. It is a struggle to stay upright. Such agony. No matter, they must finish this battle. He stumbles forward unintentionally.
Strong arms hold him. Wet cool armor presses against his face. "Zhang Liao! Get up," orders that assertive voice he knows only too well. He can't. His senses once more fade from him. But darkness, this time, engulfs him.
-0-
Hands hastily remove his armor. Pain envelops, as buckles are undone. Such pain it brings him to consciousness. Who holds him? His vision is too unfocused to tell. Blurry dark figures loom over him. His armor is striped off.
He struggles to speak, but no words come. Blood flows into his mouth. Turning himself onto his side he coughs out the iron tasting liquid. Those hands force him onto his back once more. Then horrid agony fuels in his chest. He falters into darkness once more.
-0-
Lu Bu curses quietly. Walking at a brisk pace he approaches Dong Zhou. He is mounted upon his horse at the back of the forces. Though the enemy no longer threatens them, he is still reluctant to approach the carnage. It is not the gore that worries Dong Zhou it is the being killed. With such feats to rule China, the man obviously plans to live a long prosperous life no matter the lives he sends to ruins in doing so.
The warlord requested Lu Bu give him a field report, of which he never has asked for before. The intent of impressing his new Concubine Diao Chan is obvious. Why bother? The swine would have his way anyway. Lu Bu angrily thinks. Of course why did the swine accept such a flower into their ranks? This confuses Lu Bu. The man's sexual interests in men have been known. What use would a woman be to such a man?
It is not matter for him to puzzle over Lu Bu decides. If Dong Zhou wishes to torment both genders so be it. "My son," Dong Zhou says when The Flying General approaches. "The battle, tell me of your glory."
Truly the man before him is no better than his last 'Father'. Sweat beads roll down Dong Zhou's face. His face still bears grease upon it from his most recent meal, and wine stains upon his clothing. Disgusted with the very man before him who calls himself his Father, Lu Bu begins.
-0-
Awakening to the feeling of something damp being pressed upon his lips, Zhang Liao sees a young serving maiden before him. She dampens his dry chapped lips with a wet cloth. Upon seeing his waking she sets the cloth on the bedside table, the sound of liquid splashing fill his ears. "Where am I?" he manages to croak. His voice... it is so hoarse. His throat aches from being dry. "Fan Song Castle Lord Zhang Liao," the woman replies. Lifting a cup to his lips she gently says, "Drink my lord." Grateful for a cure to his parched throat, Zhang Liao drinks the water eagerly.
Shifting to move to more comfort, the General feels sudden great pain. Clenching his teeth he pulls down the blanket that clothes his body. White linen covers his upper chest. Red seeps threw the material in some sections. "I will bring you a meal if you allow my lord," the maiden says suddenly reminding him of her presence. "Yes… Thank you," Zhang Liao replies. His mind is elsewhere. Heedless to the maiden as she exits the room, he studies his surrounding. Fan Song Castle indeed. He lies in his room upon his bed. What of the battle? Surely Lord Lu Bu was able to complete the task set before him without his aid.
A doctor assesses his wounds when he finishes his meal. Fretting greatly over the General's bandages, Zhang Liao finally dismisses him as he grows tired if his prying in paining areas. Left to his quiet thoughts, Zhang Liao dazes off into sleep.
Dawn awakens him. The same maiden comes to serve him. She once more relinquishes his thirst and appetite. Lord Lu Bu still does not visit him. Perhaps he dishonored himself greatly or the fearsome General is merely following Lord Dong Zhou's biding.
Unusually impatience lying idle in his bed, Zhang Liao tests his strength the next day when he still sees no sign of his lord. Despite the doctor's constant fussing over him moving, Zhang Liao walks to his balcony.
Spring is upon China. The crisp breeze and nearly completely thawed land tells of it. The freedom to walk in his room is short, as he soon must return to resting in fear that he may exhaust himself too greatly.
Night is a restless time for Zhang Liao. Too much has he rested for sleep to abide him. When rest finally drifts to him he dreams of Lord Lu Bu and himself walking threw a beautiful meadow of blossoming flowers. Their scent fills the air and, strangely, war does not burden his soul.
-0-
Anxious to see the world around him once more, Zhang Liao clothes himself in his light brown robe. Slipping on soft comfortable pants he then pulls on his boots. To avoid servants bustling around him in attempts to help, he does so when they leave the room.
The draft and servants hurrying past him feels good as he walks down the hall. Once into the training courtroom he walks into the garden. Resting on a bench in the cover of the building he views the early growing greenery. Strange how the tyrant keeps the beautiful place so perfect.
Footsteps take his attention. "Zhang Liao, finally you recover," comes the deep strangely patience voice. Standing faster than he should Zhang Liao replies, "Thank you for your concern." As if the words take the remaining strength from him, Zhang Liao staggers backwards. He sits down to avoid keeling over. Grasping his chest in a vain attempt to stop the fresh pain, he hears Lu Bu say, "Pathetic, Zhang Liao."
The comment is sharp. Yet why? Lu Bu wanders from under the building farther into the garden. In respect, Zhang Liao forces himself to stand. Walking after his lord, Liao stops a little ways behind him. Turning, Lu Bu addresses him once more, "Your foolery nearly cost you your life. Have you learned nothing in my service?" Wincing from blossoming pain Zhang Liao replies,
"Forgive me. I am a mere peon in comparison to your might." Lu Bu steps forward. The two warriors are an arm's length from the other. Glancing towards the budding they stand beside he says, "No." Zhang Liao remains silent.
He stumbles unsteadily. Lu Bu's attention wavers to him once more. Did concern flare in the great General's eyes? The emotion passes too quickly for Zhang Liao to tell. "Return to your room. Get bed rest," Lu Bu orders.
"Of course," Zhang Liao obediently replies.
Limping back into the building, Zhang Liao turns to see Lu Bu watching him. Their eyes meet. For a few moments Liao cannot break his eyes from Lu Bu's. Stumbling backwards due to his temporary lack of balance, Liao thumps onto the bench. Lu Bu seems bemused by this, but his eyes quickly betray worry when Zhang Liao places his hand upon his chest once more, gasping. He strides toward his subordinate to firmly order him on his way.
Zhang Liao squeezes his eyes shut. The wound weeps red tears threw the linen and dampens his robe. The sense of another's presence opens Liao's eyes. Lu Bu stands before him examining his chest. "Let me see," he orders. Loosening his robe, Zhang Liao allows it to slide off the injured shoulder. Lu Bu reaches forward. His hand wavers for a barely noticeable moment. Hesitation? Pulling the cloth further to the side to allow himself a better view, Lu Bu holds it there. He stares silently at the stained bandages.
Zhang Liao lets out a quiet gust of breath he has unintentionally been holding. Worried his breathing may distract his lord before him Liao controls soft breaths.
Lu Bu touches the wound with his free hand. Tracing the linen, he feels the stitches beneath. None appear to be ripped. Zhang Liao wincing reminds him of what he is doing. "The stitches have not ripped," Lu Bu bitterly comments, "Should you continue your foolish walkabout and collapse, they may," he adds slightly softer. "I'll return to my r-"
"Ah! General Zhang Liao," interrupts Dong Zhou.
Lu Bu immediately pulls away from Zhang Liao. His lips tighten, turning a light pallor. "Lord Dong Zhou," Zhang Liao respectively replies pulling his robe over his exposed shoulder. Moving to stand to show his obedience and subordinate rank, he is stopped by a firm hand. "Do not bother. You will need your energy for recovery," Dong Zhou tells him.
Diao Chan, who accompanies Dong Zhou, offers Lu Bu a soft yet beautiful smile. He seems entranced, but quickly draws his attention to Zhang Liao when he hears him speak. "I am honored by your concern, Lord Dong Zhou."
"Of course..." Dong Zhou replies tracing his forefinger on Liao's shoulder. The General tenses in obvious uncomfortable. "If you will allow I will return to my room to rest Lord Dong Zhou," Zhang Liao blurts out as the forefinger slips into the neck of his robe. Scowling, Lu Bu replies instead,
"You should not have left your room in the first place! I will help you." Intentionally ignoring his lord, Lu Bu moves in front of Zhang Liao. He offers him his hand. Liao gratefully accepts.
Pulling the wounded General up too hastily for the man's comfort, Lu Bu leads him towards the training courtroom. Dong Zhou watches them. His eyes twinkle from malicious thoughts and annoyance.
Lu Bu stops when they are out of Dong Zhou's view. "Swinish maggot," he spats. Zhang Liao feels lightheaded. He feels unsure whether Lu Bu's words are meant for him or Dong Zhou. Suddenly walking does not seem to suit his body well at the moment. Lu Bu notices when the fellow General begins to lean away from him. "Zhang Liao," he demands, catching the man's attention. Zhang Liao turns to face Lu Bu. His face is flushed; red adorns his cheeks.
The angry features that shine on Lu Bu's face slowly melt away. His face becomes normal. Zhang Liao blinks in confusion. The Flying General nearly never has a face such as now. "Yes?" Zhang Liao asks when Lu Bu does not reply. As if suddenly snapping back into reality, the General's facial expression immediately returns to angry. "Stupid worm! Do you realize what you've done?" Lu Bu demands. Taken back by such words Zhang Liao begins to reply,
"I-" Lu Bu grunts in annoyance.
"No, no you don't."
Zhang Liao is lead to his room by Lu Bu. His arm is tightly grasped in his escort's hand. He feels much like a child being scolded by its Father. Silence follows them.
Once to the room, Lu Bu nearly shoves him inside, before slamming the door behind him. Confused sadden emotions lead Zhang Liao to his bed. Lying down to tries to abide Lu Bu's order. Had their relationship been torn by his foolery in battle? Surely Lu Bu would accept him once more. Zhang Liao felt honored to serve the man. He saw what others could not in Lu Bu: an honest honorable man.
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