DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All mistakes are my own. Rated for some gore and overall depression of the piece. This takes place about two weeks after the assassination attempt.

Sleep was a rare commodity these days. So when someone started knocking on her door in the middle of the night, DG was understandably annoyed. She wished she could ignore it, but sadly, if they thought it was important enough to disturb her, then she really needed to answer the door. "I'm coming!" she yelled, her voice hoarse and muffled by her pillow. But she dragged herself out of bed and cast about for her robe.

The first time she had been awakened in the middle of the night, she had answered the door in her shorts and tank top—which had caused something of a scandal. Norris, the head of her detail, had stared at her before turning around, horrified at her lack of clothing. Since then, DG made a point of grabbing a robe, if only to protect her guard's sensibilities.

Belting it around her waist, DG trudged over to the door, her hair wild about her face. Mid-yawn, she opened the door to face Norris. "What is it?"

"Captain Cain's company has returned." Well, what was so bad about that? After the assassination attempt on her, Cain suggested sending a company of soldiers to Earl Korben's province to get a hold of the situation and find out the strength of the enemy. DG decided to entrust the responsibility to Jeb Cain, and the soldiers had set off a few days ago. She wasn't expecting them back quite yet, but that was hardly reason to wake her up, wasn't it?

DG frowned. Norris wasn't meeting her eyes, something very uncharacteristic of him. "What? What else?"

"They were ambushed at the Earl's manor. Some are dead, many injured."

The floor dropped out from under her and she grabbed onto the doorjamb. Dead. Oh no. She was moving before her brain had caught up with her. "Inform Commander Cain."

Norris was keeping pace with her, the rest of her guard following. "He is already there. His son was among the injured." Oh God. DG started running, her bare feet slapping against the tile, her robe billowing behind her exposing her gray sweat pants and blue tank top. She skidded around corners and jumped down stairs, her guards pounding along behind her. Her side started to ache—even though Raw had healed the surface wound, leaving only a faint scar, she still was getting her strength back and her side hurt if she overworked herself.

Finally though, she reached the infirmary level and she stopped, gasping for breath and clutching her throbbing side. She could barely process the scene in front of her. Men were lining the hallway, some stretched out on makeshift pallets, some leaning tiredly against the wall. All of them were sporting a wound of some kind, whether it was just some cuts and scrapes, or broken bones. All were in pain.

The hallway was bad enough. But the main infirmary hall was worse. So much worse. Men were crying, some screaming in pain, clutching various body parts, others reaching for limbs that were no longer there. Pleads for mothers or lovers permeated the hall, wafting along with the scent of death and gangrene. The floor was sticky with blood and sand. The soldiers were lying all throughout the room while healers rushed to and fro, yelling for help or calling out directions. Even the walking wounded were doing what they could to lend a hand. It was a miracle they had made it back at all.

DG stood in the entrance, staring in horror. The company of men that had left them a scant few days earlier, smiling and bolstered in their duty to the crown now lay decimated before her. She felt sick. They were dead and dying in front of her eyes and it was her order that had put them there.

Her fault.

"Help!" One of the healers was trying to restrain one of her thrashing patients and stop the blood coming out of his chest at the same time. DG, swallowing the bile in her throat, rushed over and grabbed one of the man's arms. The medic looked up and did a double-take, surprised to find the Queen next to her. "Your Majesty–"

"Forget the formalities, just help this man," DG said tersely. She didn't want to be reminded of her station right now. Her guards shifted around her, unsure what they should be doing, but unwilling to leave her alone. DG, holding the man's arm down, twisted her head to glare at them. "Well? Don't just stand there, help these people."

Norris glanced at the other men. "My Lady, we cannot leave you unprotected in such an unstable environment."

"The hell you can," she snarled. "I don't need six of you to guard me for heaven's sake. If you want to stay, Norris, fine. But the people here need every bit of help they can get and I won't have idle men about." When the other five guards exchanged looks, her eyes narrowed. "Move!" They instantly scattered, moving to help with the triage. Norris though, stayed by her side and reached forward to help restrain the man.

After a few stressful minutes while the healer worked to stop the bleeding, the man suddenly went limp. DG's eyes widened and her heart sped up. A shaking hand moved from the man's arm to his throat, looking for a pulse.

"He is still alive, Your Majesty," the medic said, wiping her bloody hands on her apron. The healer's once neatly pulled back red hair was tangled about her face, flushed with heat and exertion. "He has passed out for now. I thank you for your help, but you do not need to be down here."

DG shook her head, relieved beyond measure that the man was still alive, even if his chances looked dim. "You need all the help you can get. What can I do? You can also use my guards, anyone you need."

The healer bowed briefly. "Thank you, My Lady. I would suggest going to speak with Raw, he is with the more severe cases and has a better idea of where you may be useful."

The Queen nodded. She laid one hand on the unconscious man's forehead and said a brief prayer to whoever was listening. She prayed not only for him, but for every person in that building. Some were already dead, killed in the line of duty. Her fault.

With Norris trailing behind her, she picked her way across the room, speaking to a few of the soldiers, re-securing bandages and helping the healers as she went. They all seemed shocked to see her at first, amazed that their monarch had come to help and still dressed in her nightclothes. But quickly, they all grew accustomed to her presence—she could evoke a smile from even the direst of cases. And that also seemed to be the main extent of her abilities here, soothing patients.

Finally, she managed to reach Raw near one of the walls, hovering over some of the worst cases. The Viewer was invaluable at a time like this because even though he may not be able to fully heal a wound, he could still identify it. Internal bleeding, punctured organs, broken bones—Raw caught them all and was able to determine the need of each patient. He healed as much as he could, but the medics were still given a stiff workload as they rushed soldier after soldier into surgery.

"Raw," DG said softly, coming up to his side. The Viewer looked up from his most recent patient and smiled at the Queen. He pulled her into a hug, his furry arms engulfing her slight frame. She sighed and hugged back, calmed by her friend's presence.

When Raw pulled away though, he was frowning. "DG hurt. Inside and out."

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I ran down here and my side kind of hurts from that, but it's nothing serious."

Raw glanced at Norris, standing a respectful distance away. "No. DG hurt inside. Blame self."

She froze but once again shook her head. "I'm fine, Raw. Don't worry about me, you've got enough on your hands right now." She could see he didn't believe her and wanted to press the issue, but she changed the topic instead. "Do you know where Cain is? They said that Jeb was one of the ones that was hurt."

The Viewer gave her a look, letting her know he would let this slide for now, but she would have to deal with him later. "Jeb badly hurt. Ribs broken and lung punctured. Long road to healing, but should make it. Cain with him now." He pointed towards a corner of the large room where those that had already came out of surgery lay. She could make out Cain's tense shoulders from there.

"Thanks, Raw. Listen, put my guards to work, will you? If you need anything, just let me know." The Viewer nodded and let her leave, worriedly watching her back. The obvious physical injuries needed tending to right away, but the invisible mental and emotional injuries would have to be seen to just the same.

DG once again wound her way through the crowd, all the while making her way to the corner where the temporary recovery area was. Once she made it though, she wasn't sure if she should announce herself or not.

Jeb was laid out on one of the beds, his face ghostly pale. A sheet was drawn up to his waist, exposing the yards of bandages wrapped around his chest, which scarcely rose and fell with each shallow breath. Sitting at his side was Cain, tightly holding onto his son's hand. He was hunched over, his eyes intent on Jeb. His shirt sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, his hands speckled with blood. He was oblivious to everything that wasn't his son.

DG didn't want to disturb him, but she needed him to know that she was there. Quietly, she moved forward and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Cain?"

He started, turning his face towards her. The faintest of tear tracks were on his cheeks. "Highness? What are you doing here?"

"I heard they were back and were hurt. I came to see what I could do to help." She looked down at Jeb and bit her lip. He was so still. . .nothing like the vibrant young man that could elicit such proud, heartfelt smiles from his father. She internally quaked, reminded that she had recommended him for the command. Her fault.

Cain turned his face back to his son. "Some bastard set off an explosive near him, blew him across the perimeter and into a stone wall, where debris pounded his chest. It's a miracle they got him back alive, with broken ribs and a punctured lung."

Norris suddenly appeared with a hard-backed chair for her to sit in. She nodded gratefully at him and sat down, moving her hand down Cain's arm. "Raw said that it's going to be a long, hard road to recovery, but he should make it. Jeb's strong, Cain, and he's a fighter. What's more, he's your son, so he's got that stubborn streak in him. He's going to be fine."

Cain chuckled weakly. He grabbed her hand within his own, squeezing it. "I hope so." She hesitated for a second, but then reached forward with her free hand and laid it over the clasped hands of father and son. She concentrated on the spell Azkadellia had taught her; focusing on their hands and letting a deep, soothing warmth spread outward. Jeb, for the briefest of moments took a cleansing breath. Even some of the tension drained out of Cain's body. He stared at her once she opened her eyes and withdrew her hand. "What did you just do?"

"Just a soothing spell that Az taught me. It helped me when I was hurt, so I figured it might help you two. Nothing to worry about." Course, using magic when she was already strung out and still trying to get her body back under control was not a good idea. That had taken more energy than she cared to admit and she felt decidedly off-balance after it. And Cain would be quick to notice if she wasn't careful. "I'm going to see what else I can do to help. You stay with Jeb, let me know if he wakes up."

Cain glanced behind her when she stood up and frowned. "Where are your guards?"

Of course he would notice that. Not that she was about to fall over, but that she didn't have the usual menagerie of shadows. "I sent them to help. People were dying, Cain. Those five have field training, they could help. Norris is more than enough. So stop worrying about me and just stay with your son, alright?"

He frowned at Norris, but reluctantly nodded. Cain had been understandably overprotective since the assassination attempt. Even though she understood it, she still chaffed under the added restrictions. "If you leave, you take those guards with you."

DG rolled her eyes. "Yes, Commander Cain. I'm going now." Her legs were definitely starting to feel like jello. Before she left though, she threw her arms around Cain's shoulders and hugged him. "Come find me if you need anything, Wyatt." She then kissed his temple and turned and hurried away before he could notice the blush on her cheeks.

After a few moments, the blush went away and the need for someplace to sit down became far more pressing. There was a door off to the side that most of the people seemed to be avoiding, so she headed straight for that, hoping it was a supply closet or something. Without hesitation, she opened the door and froze. Her stomach heaved and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth.

She had found the morgue.

Inside, at least two dozen bodies were laid out, eyes vacant, arms at their sides. None of them had been cleaned up or tended to for burial yet—there was too much to do with the living for them to worry about the dead. The smell was simply grotesque, decaying flesh and singed hair, astringent salves and bitter last breaths. She wanted to run away, wanted to scream or fall to her knees. But she couldn't. She could only stare. This was what her decision had led to.

"My Lady," Norris said, placing a gentle hand at her elbow and trying to steer her out of the room. "We should leave this place."

"No." She tore her arm out of his grasp and took a step further into the room. She swallowed a mouthful of bile. "Get me a bucket of water and a rag, please."

"Queen Dorothy—"

"Norris." He stopped and met her pleading eyes when she turned her head to him. "Please. A bucket of water and a rag." He sighed and turned and left, hurriedly getting her what she asked for. While she waited, DG remained standing in the entranceway, eyes taking in every soldier's body.

She wondered how many had families. How many were fathers with children of their own. How many were still children in their own rights. If this had been their first battle, or only one of many. If they knew they were about to die or were blissfully unaware of the fact. And she only grew sicker when she realized she barely knew any of their names.

Her fault.

"My Lady." Norris had returned, holding a bucket of water, a rag draped over the edge.

"Thank you." She took the bucket from him and set it down next to the closest body. "Leave me."

"Your Majesty, I can't do that."

She didn't turn this time. Her voice was flat as she spoke, brooking no argument. "Norris. You may guard outside the door, but I want to be left alone." He sighed heavily but she listened to his steps dutifully recede before the door creaked closed.

Once she was alone, she dropped to her knees next to one of the bodies. His eyes were closed, but a long cut across his forehead had leaked blood all down his face. Carefully wringing out the rag, DG set to cleaning away as much of the blood and grime from his skin as she could. The tears started while she tended to that first soldier, silently streaming down her face as she took his hands within her own, cleaning each finger, running the rag over the palm and wrist. She then folded his hands over his chest and smoothed his hair away from his face. She couldn't do much about the state of his uniform, couldn't mend the tears or wash out the blood. But she could still see to him.

Soldier after soldier passed before her eyes as she tended to each body. She cleaned every inch of visible skin, closed eyes if they were open, straightened limbs that were flung outward, tried to smooth faces twisted by fear and pain. She thought of the loved ones that would come to see their husbands, fathers, sons into the afterlife as she worked, thought of the horror they had yet to know. Her fault.

It didn't take long before she was shaking with exhaustion and cold. She had laid her robe over one of the soldiers that had been disemboweled, wanting to mask some of the damage. Lack of sleep, magic use and the emotional roller coaster she had been sent on had all taken their toll on her body. Tears continued to steadily leave her eyes, dripping on the floor or on the men she was working on. As much as she wanted to curl into a ball and cry, she pressed on. No one would be able to spare the time to see to the dead for a while and she was going to do her part. She was going to keep going until she collapsed.

She was coming to the last couple of bodies when the floor dropped out from under her again. The man before her was the same as the one that she had helped restrain when she had first come down to the infirmary. He hadn't made it after all. His glassy green eyes stared upward.

And it was all too much for her. DG put her head on her arms and sobbed.

The hall was finally starting to quiet down as the sedatives took effect and the soldiers were steadily attended to. Exhausted healers were starting to break into shifts so that some of them could get some sleep while still tending to the patients. With the steady decline of activity and less bodies moving around, finding one errant Queen should be easy. But Cain couldn't see DG anywhere, even though her guards were still about. He knew that she wouldn't have left without them, so where was she?

Then he caught sight of Norris, his bulk half hiding a door in the wall. Cain picked his way across the room, his unease growing with each step. He knew what was behind that door; everybody did. Running a hand tiredly over his face, he walked up to Norris. "Where is she?"

Norris saluted him, coming to attention. "She's in the room, by herself. I tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn't have it."

Not surprising. "How long has she been in there?"

"Since she left you."

Hours then. "Well? What is she doing?"

The head of the Queen's detail sighed and stepped aside, letting the Troop Commander move to the door. "Honoring the dead."

Cain frowned and opened the door, quietly stepping inside. The natural smell of death reached him first. He had been in too many battles to flinch at the stench, though his stomach still rolled. As his eyes adjusted to the naturally dimmer room, the sound of weeping reached him next. He could hear DG crying and it tore at his heart. He was moving towards the sound before he realized what was going on.

DG was draped over one of the bodies, bare shoulders heaving with her deep sobs. He could see dark red smudges on her sweat pants and tank top—dried blood. One of the bodies he passed had her robe lying over him. And that was when he noticed the clean and polished skin of most of the men. He saw the peaceful looks on their faces and in their limbs and he knew that DG was responsible for it all. She had spent the past hours in here, in the company of corpses, giving them attention that no one else would.

He was at her side in an instant and trying to pull her up. "Highness."

DG shook her head and pulled out of his arms. "No. Leave me alone!" She dropped again to her knees, falling upon the dead soldier.

Cain frowned and grabbed her arms, hauling her upwards. She struggled against him, trying to tear out of his grasp. "Highness. DG, stop it right now!"

She was still crying, her voice hiccuping when she spoke. "No! This is all my fault, leave me alone!"

What was she talking about? Cain bodily turned her around, his hands tight on her biceps. Her hair was twisted about her face, her tear-stained cheeks pink, her blue eyes bright in the candlelight. She shook her head and pushed against his chest, trying to get him to let her go. He only tightened his grip, hoping he wasn't going to leave bruises on her pale skin. "DG! Talk to me, what is your fault?"

"Everything!" She turned her face up to him, begging him to understand. "All these men are dead, all because of me!"

Suddenly all of the fight went out of her and she slumped, still crying. Cain pulled her against his chest, his arms solid around her body. She trembled in his embrace, sobbing into his shirt, her hands clutching at fistfuls of fabric. He closed his eyes and waited for her to cry herself out, one of his hands going into her hair. Her skin was cold as snow and he wished he had his duster with him to drape over her shoulders, but it was still in his room. Instead, he just tried to pull her in closer to his body.

Soon enough, her cries had diminished. Though she was still shaking, it was no where near the initial flood. Slowly, he walked her over to the side of the room, away from some of the bodies and sat her down. Her hands loosened their grip on his shirt when he pulled away, but she kept her eyes on the floor.

Cain pushed her hair out of her face, thankful she had finally calmed down. "Now, Sweetheart, tell me why you think this is your fault."

DG shook her head, her face scrunching up again in preparation for more tears. "They're all dead because of me. I sent them there. I ordered them to go to a position we knew would be fortified by the enemy and they died because of it. Dozens of others were injured, Jeb included. It's all my fault."

Cain could hardly believe what she was saying, much less that she believed it. "DG, listen to me." His voice was a bit more harsh than he would have liked, but she needed to get this through her head. "Did you pull the trigger on any of these men?" She shook her head no. "Did you send them off, intending for them to die?" Again, a negative. "Did you force any of these men to sign up for the Royal Army?" No. "Then you can't blame yourself for any of this."

She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. "No, I'm talking now and you're listening, for once in your life. Each and every one of these men knew what they were getting into when they signed up for military service. They knew that injury and death would be in their future. And they continued to serve despite that because they believed in what they were fighting for—they believed in you and the throne you sit upon.

"You can't blame yourself for a decision you had no say in. Yes, we both agreed to send the company to the Earl's manor, but the men in that company agreed with the mission and knew the risks. The only people at fault here are the longcoats. Understand?"

She nodded minutely. "Yes. But I don't think I can do this, Cain. I can't send men out, knowing half of them will come back in caskets."

He shifted and took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "And you know what? That is what makes you such a great Queen. You know what your decisions mean, you know the consequences. You aren't going to idly make choices that cost lives, not if you can help it. It's a hard job, I know. There's nothing harder than seeing the result of a mission gone wrong. But this is just something that you have to do and will have to do many times in the future. And I hope you never get used to it."

DG frowned, but he pressed on. "Because the second you get used to it is the second that you send men cavalierly into the fray. And that is when bad decision are made."

"But if I'm always worried about losing lives, how can I even work up the courage to send them off in the first place, even if its for some noble cause?"

Cain sighed. "It's a tough balance and one that you have to find. But you'll find it. Because you know what needs to be done so the O.Z can prosper, but you also see what happens when things go wrong. You can do it, DG, it'll just take some time. And I'll be there with you, every step of the way."

Tears came to her eyes again, but for an entirely different reason this time. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, her heart bursting with love for the man in front of her. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don't know what I would do without you."

When she pulled back from him, the look on his face made her breath run short. "I wouldn't want you to find out," he replied quietly. But then he stood up and turned away, breaking the moment. DG felt like fainting for an entirely different reason now. Her eyes went back to the bodies and she instantly sobered. She still had work to do.

She went back to the man she was crying over. Saying a prayer, she reached up and closed his eyes before she started to clean his skin. Cain appeared at her side, but she ignored him. "This is just something I have to do," she whispered. He laid a brief hand on her shoulder before he walked away.

Once all of the dead were tended to, DG rose and stretched. Each of the soldiers now looked calm and relatively clean. It wasn't much, but it was something. If it was all she could offer the dead, then she would be content with that. But she was going to be more careful in the future.

A blanket fell around her shoulders and she started, turning to see Cain next to her once again. "I want you to come sit with me."

She frowned, pulling the edges of the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Sit with you where?"

"Next to Jeb. He woke up earlier."

The relieved smile that broke across her face nearly hurt, she was so happy. "He did? Oh, thank God. That's good, right?"

Cain smiled. "Yes, he should be fine. He was only awake for a minute before he fell asleep again, which is when I came to find you. I want to stay by his side though. And I'd also like to keep an eye on you, so this is just my way of making things easy."

"Killing two birds with one stone; I got you."

The Troop Commander frowned. "Why would you be killing birds?"

DG rolled her eyes and followed Cain out of the morgue and back towards the recovering patients. "It's just an expression, Cain." He shook his head in confusion, but didn't say anything as they both settled in at Jeb Cain's bedside, the rest of the infirmary settling down into a sleepy heartbeat behind them.

I think this piece was oddly appropriate for a 4th of July weekend. Normally, I spend a few days on each piece, mulling it over and editing. But this came out pretty quickly within two days. There were only two lines that I ended up rewriting a hundred times each because of their importance. I didn't even plan on it taking on the significance it did, but sometimes the writing just gets away from you—and turns into something better than you had planned.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this much more human side of DG. And I gave Raw kind of a new ability, hehe. Hey, I cut away half his repertoire, it was the least I could do. Oh well, it made sense to me.

The next one will (hopefully) be much more lighthearted. And I don't want to say that reviews encourage me to write faster, because that generally isn't true, but I got inspired when I saw all the lovely feedback everyone sent me. So please, let me know what you think and I'll start working on the next one!