And here we are with chapter two! Thanks for the review and the couple of follows I got on the first chapter, I'm really glad that someone out there is enjoying this :)
Everything was such a blur of spiraling woozy atmosphere and horrible lurching pain all around, drawing tears and shudders from him only to be silenced by an overwhelming relief when the wooziness returned to him, fed to him on a spoon. Wirt remembered a stout motherly silhouette speaking in whispered, worried tones to a man in a dark suit and occasionally hovering by his bed. A vague recollection of a blinding pain that made his world explode into shattered pieces behind his eyes and the sweet comfort of a cool cloth wiped over his forehead again and again. More tight woozy feelings from the spoon again that would silence his pain time to time
But mostly he remembered her voice, Beatrice's voice, he knew it for sure. Though he couldn't see her, he caught pieces of her voice here and there during his fever and dizzying relief. Her murmers of reassurance ("Just hang in there, I've got the medicine, shhh….") a muted sort of annoyance ("Of course you couldn't do anything halfway, Wirt. Of course not, you big dork. You just HAD to worry me to death."), and sometimes, something he thought could even be affection ("Oh, Wirt….please be okay."). He'd heard that voice in his dreams for five years, its high sweet pitch contrasting with its brash words in the loveliest way that always made him laugh, or bristle, or simply wonder. He'd wondered quite a bit about Beatrice since he'd left the Unknown, but now he didn't know if he was in a dream or not. His dreams had always been clearer, hadn't they? And why did everything hurt? What was he being fed that made the world spin, and why did he crave it so strongly? Why was he so hot but also so cold?
But all at once, after the extremes of heat and cold had left him, he opened his eyes and was startled He saw her sitting by the window with an initially frightening clarity. He could feel himself breathing, feel the aching sharp soreness in his leg, and when he gently reached a hand up to comb through his hair he did find a bruising welt there he would have to be careful of. This was different from the other times he'd 'seen' her. This was not a daydream, not a random thought. The sun was peeking through the transluscent white curtains, highighitng the firey tones in her hair and shining through the pure bright blue of her eyes. She was looking out to what seemed like a garden? He didn't want to strain his eyes for fear of upsetting his head wound, for all he knew he'd been concussed. But it was definitely some place with a lot of bushes. She looked tired, her hair a bit askew and the tie of her apron droopy. She was a bit slumped, as if a great weight rested on her shoulders.
"Beatrice…?" He rasped before coughing. His throat and mouth felt horribly dry, and his head heavy when he tried to lift it. Beatrice jolted at his whisper, turning to him with worry creasing her brow and rushed to his side. She brushed her hand tenderly over his forehead as she crouched down closer to him, grateful for his cool skin beneath her fingers.
"Wirt! Are you in pain?" She asked before looking down towards his legs, relieved to see they were still in the position her brother had set them in and had not been jostled. "Thank goodness your fever broke, I can't believe you had to break your leg AND get one heck of a fever all at once. And the bump on your head, too? I mean, geez, it's nice to see you and all but something tells me you could have planned a better entrance." She straightened up and smiled, her hands on her hips and her eyes sparkling with her relief. Wirt tried swallowing again but found himself coughing once more.
"Water, please." He rasped, wishing he could ask her properly. She raised an eyebrow, strangely confused by his request.
"For what? Are you overheated?" She asked. Wirt shook his head.
"Thirsty."
"Water isn't safe to drink here, I guess it is over on your side. Here, I have ale that should still be cool. My brother Walter just fetched it from the cellar maybe a hour ago." She reached around to Wirt's back and with surprising strength and propped him up a bit so he could drink before handing him the light tin tankard of ale. It took a good minute or two, but he managed to drain the tankard. He cleared his throat and let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you Beatrice." He said with a clearer voice. "Can you help me sit up a bit more, please?" She obliged, leaning in close to him, and his cheeks warmed at what could have been the proximity of a beautiful girl or a bit of a head rush after lying down for who knows how long. Beatrice, anticipating his dizziness, grabbed another pillow to prop up behind him.
"Thanks…" He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to calm his dizzying head. When he opened them again he offered a shy smile to the round, freckled face in front of him. THIS was human Beatrice, huh? So close to him, he could see every freckle on her face, the regal shape of her nose, and the startling intense blue of her eyes, and he wondered if the flush rising to his face was just from the ale and effort of sitting up. "Beatrice, what happened?" At that question, her own little, shy smile faded into a frown of confusion.
"I was hoping you could tell me?" She sat next to his hip on the bed. "I was just taking a walk three nights ago and you just…stumbled into me, rambling about what Sara did and then what you did and how you were lost." She smoothed the blankets next to her. "You were a wreck, Wirt. I didn't see why you were so stumbly and rambly at first, but when we got you inside…you were bleeding from your head and your leg was all twisted and you were wet and shaking from the cold."
"Oh jeez…." Wirt groaned. "Beatrice, I'm sorry I…I didn't mean to cause any trouble for you. I'm…actually kind of confused how I got back here too, to be honest." He traced light gauzy bandages he hadn't noticed before from his forehead to the lump on the back of it. Beatrice shook her head, waving her hand casually.
"Hey, don't get all mopey on me. My brother Allard is a doctor, my dad got him over here to set your leg and he told me how to take care of you until you came around. And lookit this, you did!" She gestured to him as if him simply opening his eyes was a big accomplishment. "Do you need more medicine? I've been careful about not giving you too much, Allard says it's strong." She stood and headed back over to the table, fetching a glass bottle and a spoon.
"What is it?" Wirt asked jokingly. "Laudanum or something?"
Beatrice blinked at him. "…Yes." Wirt stared at her for a moment; that certainly explained the swirling memories of the past few days. He was about to refuse when a shooting pain ran up his leg and he clutched his knee, grunting.
"Maybe a little, don't wanna let the pain get ahead of me you know Beatrice give the the bottle I'm just gonna-" She cut him off with a spoon of bitter liquid slipping between his lips. Wirt breathed as evenly as possible until he felt the rush of the medicine spread through his system, and he leaned back to look at Beatrice again, thankful his vision wasn't blurry.
"Better?" She asked, cleaning the spoon off on her apron and placing it back on the table. Wirt nodded, fumbling his fingers a bit. He wanted to reach for her hand…so he did. She'd nursed him back to health after all, she certainly deserved the affection.
"Yeah, a lot. I…thank you, Beatrice." He caught her gaze, rubbing her fingers a bit with his thumb. "Thank you. Beatrice, I…it's been so long, I've really…" She clutched his fingers tighter. He'd missed her.
"Wirt?" She leaned in just a bit. "Me too. You…and now you're…it's really-" The door to the guest's bedroom swept open, Beatrice's mother Marianne entering with a tray of broth and bread.
"Is he-oh goodness, he is awake!" Beatrice's mother rushed over to the bed, placing the tray next to Wirt before feeling his head for fever. Wirt and Beatrice snatched their fingers away from one another as she did so.
"Mom, I think you met Wirt, right?" Beatrice asked, backing away from the bed a bit. "So…no need for introduction, I guess."
"No, not introduction. Though I do need to talk to you, young man." The woman wearing Beatrice's freckles gave him a wide smile. "But first, welcome to the homestead."
Chapter two! Hooray for alcohol (no advanced technology over the wall means no water to drink; many farms and homesteads, pretty much all of them, had their own breweries during these time periods and being isolated in the Unknown Beatrice's family would certainly have theirs) and tons of opiates, go 18th(/19th, since there's a mix of time periods over the Wall I figured Allard would have knowledge of laudanum and how to use it safely) century medicine!...Oh man, hang in there Wirt.