"You broke your nose, got some beauties on your jaws and head, sprained your right angle and elbow, nearly dislocated your left arm, cuts, cuts and more cuts. And a concussion." Darren replied with a grim smile. "But you fought well."
"Yeah, didn't I?" Aadela murmered, gritting her teeth in agony. Even taking in a breath hurt.
"The medics say you'll be okay enough to walk in three days, two maybe. Which leaves you enough time to heal to come down to watch my third Trial."
"Yeah, cool."
"Rest."
"How's he?" Aadela grabbed his arm as Darren got up to leave her room, and her arm stung. Darren looked at her, wondering who was this 'he', when he finally caught on.
"Ch - he's - good... maybe." Darren shrugged. "I don't know him much, but apparently Kurda does. Kurda sure might have paid him a visit. I'll ask him when I next see him and then tell you."
"Okay." Aadela relaxed. "Leave now."
Darren smirked and bowed mockingly and said, "As the queen wishes." And excused himself.
If she could even open her eyes without having them stinging, she would have thrown the pillow nearby.
Any fighter, especially an emerging or a potential one, however big or small, however experienced or novice, was given quite the honour in the Mountain, and the same held true for her. Vampires patted her back, joked about how deadly she might've become had she been defeated, congratulated her many times over, made space for her, flocked around to talk to her - but Aadela didn't care. It was distasteful, she thought, the ever enthusiastic and ready encouragement towards fights and scars and bruises and in other words, savagery.
But that didn't mean that she wasn't pleased by her victory: she was as ecstatic as hell. She wasn't one to be arrogant about her victory, but neither was she one to be cowed by humility and et cetera et cetera. She hadn't got a chance to meet Cher, and she wasn't exactly looking forward to it, but she wasn't nervous either. The day for Darren's third Trial had arrived, and she was constantly chewing her nails. She bustled into the waiting room, her heart becoming heavier in her chest every passing second. She sat down, her hands unconciously finding a ledge, and she found she was sitting right next to Cher.
"I knew you'd be coming here." He stated, not looking at her. He'd sustained far lesser injuries than her, but his angst at his loss made him look sicker than her.
"Aso." Aadela too didn't look at him. He'd boasted, and she'd given him a taste of his own medicine. She didn't need to do anything more than simply finish the matter, if he brought it up, that is.
"Look, I'm sorry for-" Cher rushed, but was interrupted by Aadela.
"Sorry for boasting?" She still wasn't looking at him, but the heavy sarcasm was more than obvious. "Well, I don't concern myself over that. Those are your worries - whether to boast or to not."
"Will you let me finish?" Cher growled. Aadela wanted to look him straight in the face and shake her head, just for the fun of it, the same fun which she often used to enjoy with her friends, but instead she sat cool and composed.
"As I was saying, I'm sorry for deeming you unworthy, weak... and believing you can't best me."
"You're sorry for thinking all that, but are you actually sorry for being like that? Are you actually sorry for your actions?"
"Yes, I am." Cher snarled. "You don't need to make it harder with your attitude."
Aadela slowly turned her head. She looked at him with a deadly combination of malevolence, triumph and sarcasm. Cher dropped his head and held it in his hands in frustration, then jerked it up and grabbed Aadela's hand, which she readily snatched away. There was frustration and desperation on his face. "Look, I didn't mean to -"
"'Course you didn't. Tell you what, you can take your goddamned forgivness if you get off me. Okay? I forgive you for everything." Aadela put emphasis on each word. "End of story, no more shit - we're good now."
"Aadela -"
"No!" She barked. "I've forgiven you, now stay off me. Besides, the fifteen minutes are up. I couldn't be less bothered with you." She jumped up, and pushed her way gruffly across the horde of vampires, eager to blast through those doors to see if - how... how Darren had fared.
Aadela couldn't move. She was frozen in time. Around her, everyone else bustled about with some aim or the other, and Aadela's body ached with the strain of being so still, but her mind wouldn't relent. Her eyes could only register that... bundle... in front of her. Charred, blackened, bald, bruised, bloody, pinkish, constantly twitching bundle. And she didn't realise that she was crying, before someone put a hand on her back.
"Shh..." He soothed, and Aadela finally broke in. "Shh... He'll be fine. He's going to be fine. I'm sure of that." Aadela had the vague feeling that it was someone whom she had annoyed merely a few hours before, but she couldn't care. Not with him lying like that.
"Let me do something!" She bawled at the medics in front of her. Instantly someone strode up to her and hugged her. Someone different.
"He needs comfort right now, Aadela. You've got to calm him." She found herself looking up in a pair of eyes lighter in shade than her own. "Apply the wet strips on his forehead; we need to get his fever and fear down."
She set herself to the task religiously.
Aadela sat reading a book, glancing up at the sleeping form in front of her more than actually reading it. He stirred, and Aadela was almost on top of him instantly. He finally opened his eyes, and Aadela cupped his face upward gently to meet his gaze.
"I - I -" Darren rasped.
"Remember me?" Aadela smiled, and gave his cheeks a peck each.
"Can't forget... you in... a... thousand... lifetimes."
"You're safe now." She strolled her fingers over his face, and he shut his eyes, because of both fatigue and pleasure.
"What... happened?"
"No more of that." Aadela shut him out, with the same benevolence and love radiating even in a rebuttal.
"Water..."
Aadela grabbed the pitcher which lay at a side, took out the small earthen improvisation of a glass from it, which was also used as a lid, and poured some water in it. Very gently and slowly, she raised Darren's head, and with the other hand, tipped the glass in his mouth. When he had had his fill, she wiped the water away from his mouth and set him down again.
"I'm going. But I'll be back soon." She smiled reassuringly and brushed her lips against his.
"No... wait." Darren made an effort to grab her hand.
"Others want to meet you too. I'll be back; I promiss." She waited till he eased again, and went out of the small cell which was his room.
