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You guys have such faith that I won't bomb this story! :) Thank you!
Tinkerbell was busy making crutches and walking sticks for a few of the Lost Heroes the next day. She and Terence weren't quite on the best terms yet, although they had talked and made up a bit when they had been in the other lands waiting for the war to be over back in Pixie Hollow.
Just then, Terence came flying over to her workbench at the shop. "I found some more sticks, Tink."
"Thanks," she smiled and glanced at him.
He didn't make eye contact but gave a smile.
"I don't know if you wanna use that," Bobble spoke up from his bench next to hers. He pointed with his hammer at her prototype crutch made from sticks.
"Why not?" she frowned and looked at him.
"I agree, Miss Bell. It isn't sturdy enough to hold a heavy fairy," Clank added from her other side.
She looked at his face to see if he was teasing.
"A fairy like the Lord of Winter is a big one," Bobble finished.
Her head whipped back to Bobble.
"I think it just needs a tweak here," Terence said and started to lean his weight on the crutch, pointing down at a pressure point of the stick.
The crutch snapped and Terence collapsed onto it, smashing the entire prototype.
"Terence! What have you done?!" she snapped.
Clank and Bobble were in the middle of helping Terence up when they all looked at her in astonishment.
She closed her eyes and started counting under her breath. Then she calmly walked over and helped Terence up. "Sorry. Are you alright?"
He nodded but kept his hand cupped against him. "Sorry, I'll help rebuild it," he said quietly.
Pulling his hand out and looking at his palm, she found a large splinter. "Oh, Terence. Here, I can get that out."
"I'm fine," he protested without feeling.
Clank and Bobble pushed him over to her workbench chair.
"She's good with splinters," Bobble said.
"Miss Bell got a big one out of the tiny tip of my finger once," Clank smiled and shoved him into the chair.
"No, really," he protested and turned green when she came over with tweezers and a magnifying glass.
Tink stopped. "Do you have a weak stomach, Terence?" she asked in surprise.
"What?! No! I just...I'm..." he answered weakly.
She stroked his cheek. "Hey, look at me," she said softly.
His eyes glided up to hers.
"Close your eyes and count to ten. I promise it won't hurt."
He did, Clank and Bobble ready to catch him. "...seven...eight..."
"Done!"
His eyes opened and he looked down at his hand in surprise. She held up the offending splinter in her tweezers with a smile.
"See? She's right stealthy with those tweezers," Clank grinned. Then he and Bobble went back to work.
She pecked a kiss on Terence's cheek and tossed the splinter in her trashcan. When she turned back to Terence, he was studying her, the look in his eyes not as guarded as it had been the past week.
Clarion paced in the living room early that morning, nibbling her nail nervously while Spruce did a full exam on Milori in the bedchamber. She had practically begged Milori to let her stay because she wanted to know what Milori's injuries were and how he had obtained them. Milori had been firm about his answer and had almost bitten her head off when she had pushed the matter. Spruce had calmly stepped in and told her that right now it was important for Milori to have medical care and be cooperative than have her involved right now. So she had relented and had been staring at the clock for the past half hour.
Spruce finally exited and shut the door behind himself.
She hurried over, but he held out a hand to prevent her from entering.
"I need to speak with you for a moment," he said seriously.
She looked up into his eyes to see him disturbed. "What's wrong?"
He guided her out to the porch and closed the door. Then he walked over to lean his back against the post and rest his medical bag on the wood railing, facing her in the early morning sunlight of spring. "I suspect you've figured it out by now that these nine soldiers were captured by the enemy."
"I gathered as much, yes." She folded her arms over her chest, afraid what she was about to hear.
"It's incredibly important for you to be supportive of him. He's going to have nightmares and be ashamed sometimes for you to see him vulnerable. Mentally and emotionally these nine are extremely fragile right now. They will all be very cautious in whom they let in and very quick to shut out anyone whom they feel is judging them. I'm not sure how he's going to react, but I suspect he's the type who will try to push you away and hide his emotional pain, thinking he's protecting you."
"I don't understand. Why would he be ashamed?" she frowned. "I only want to help him. I did this to him."
He shook his head. "Don't blame yourself because this will make him feel guilty for not being the same as he was before he left. That's the worst thing you can do," he explained.
She held her temples and shook her head in confusion. "What happened to him?"
A deep sigh escaped him. "I'm not sure if it's best for me or him to tell you."
"He told you?"
"Some and some I guessed based on the physical evidence, and he didn't confirm or deny it."
"Please, I need to know so I can help him," she pleaded.
He set a hand on her shoulder for a moment. "I think you need to try getting him to talk to you first. We need to tell him first if I'm to tell you about anything."
"Of course." She looked down at the porch floor in thought. "Physically, is there anything I should know if he's too stubborn to tell me?" Then she looked up at him.
Running a hand over his face as if exhausted himself, he answered, "He needs to stay in bed for a couple days. His thigh wound is infected, so I had to reopen it. I haven't stitched it to let the infection out, so it will be difficult getting it to heal. Unfortunately, it's too soon to tell if he'll have a permanent limp. It's also extremely important that he does his back exercises twice a day now. I'll be by daily to check on his leg and do his wing exercises."
"I should ask him what happened to his back, I presume?"
"If he'll tell you. Send for me if he has any new pain, especially if it's in his abdomen. I don't think he has internal injuries, but I'm not certain." He stifled a yawn.
"Are the other soldiers alright?"
He nodded. "A few broken bones and bruises; Lord Milori bore the worst of it," he said with regret for Milori.
"Are you holding up alright?" She set a hand on his arm.
"Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure," he smiled.
She entered the bedchamber quietly, not wanting to wake Milori if he was sleeping.
He was awake and propped up slightly with pillows, his eyes focused out the window.
"Are you hungry or anything?" she asked and padded over to him in her bare feet.
"Spruce says you continued the search for several days after everyone thought the war had ended," he said, his voice still scratchy and rough. "Military protocol for us is to continue only twenty four hours." He kept his eyes focused out the window to spring on his left, his body tense as he waited for her answer.
She stood at the foot of the bed studying his profile, unsure if he was angry with her. "I will regret it every day for the rest of my life that I gave up," she replied with tears in her eyes.
"I feared you trying to follow us and getting slaughtered, so I made sure our trail was invisible," he whispered.
Slowly walking over to the spring side of the bed, she climbed up and sat facing him. "I died a thousand deaths every moment that I thought you were gone," she croaked, her face crumpling. "I can't live without you."
His eyes finally turned to her, but they were haunted and so ancient. "Every scream from my lips wasn't my last only because you told me you'd love me when I came back, no matter how many appendages were missing," he said in a thick voice with shame and tears shimmering in his eyes. "But does that include being broken? Because I have been broken in so many ways."
"I see a man who is noble and strong...and hurt. But I love him more fiercely with each day. To me, he is not broken but has wounds where he needs help healing," she vowed with passion. Then she gazed deeply into his heart. "I am blessed to hold the love from a man who is a hero to our kingdom." She gently took his battered hand in hers. "I see what you cannot, Milori-I see you becoming the man legends are made of. I must ask you to trust me when you doubt yourself or me or us. You have guided me so many times when I have been lost; let me help guide you."
He swallowed hard, his heart deeply touched.
"I have two questions for you right now that I'm hoping you'll answer. First, I'm worried why you have bruises on your throat and why your voice is so rough. You don't have to tell me right now why, but I want to know if it's a serious injury."
His eyes immediately dropped down to their joined hands as if he was ashamed. Suddenly, his chin quivered and he looked at her with tears brimming. "I never once betrayed you," he croaked.
Her face crumpled and a sob escaped her both upon seeing his pain and the fact that he thought he needed to tell her that. "I never doubted you," she sniffled and stroked his cheek, softly brushing away his tear with her thumb.
"A rope," he said. "They wanted to know if you would die if your wings were damaged."
"What did they do with the rope?" she silently wept, sensing he needed her to not fall apart even though her heart lay bleeding on the floor for him.
He looked down at their hands. "Spruce said the pressure caused inflammation that will of away in a couple days," he replied without answering her question directly.
Leaning forward, she gently bent down to brush a kiss over his neck, not realizing her tear fell on his bare chest.
Then she kissed under his ear and his cheek, sensing him soaking in her love like a man in the desert without water.
"Spruce said you need to do back exercises twice a day. What are the marks on your back?" She sat back and brought his hand to her lips for a tender kiss. When he shook his head, she knew he had reached his limit of sharing for now. With an understanding nod, she softly brushed a lock of his loose hair away from his face.
There was so much hardship and sorrow in his eyes that it broke her heart. He needed medicine that she was ready to give him.
"One more question," she whispered and gave a soft smile.
She saw him intrigued what had her no longer so serious. "Is it wrong that right now I really want to tear my clothes off and make myself your mate?" she blushed. She spread dust over his ribs and held her hand there to help speed his healing, anticipating his reaction that she was hoping for.
Clarion said it with such a straight face that he blinked. Then he burst out laughing, whimpering softly as he held his injured ribs that didn't hurt quite so much at the moment with her dust. "Ah, Clarion, you are good for me," he sighed happily.
She grinned and her glow was brighter, so incredibly happy to see him smile.
