Fell woke to the sound of a door scraping open and closing softly a moment later. It wasn't the volume of the sound that woke him but the strange nature of it that brought him out of sleep and to attention. It sounded as though someone where trying to sneak into the room, and he immediately sat up, one hand going for his knife. The Shadow found himself sitting in a worn armchair in the corner of a small and sparsely furnished room of the medical wing. Across from him Strider was asleep in a narrow bed with a heavy gray blanket pulled nearly to her chin.
"Well, good morning," Gilan said softly from where he stood leaning against the door to Strider's room. He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at Fell. "Not often that I catch either of you sleeping."
Fell let go of his knife and dragged a hand down his face. "Is it morning already?" The Shadow glanced towards the only window where a set of thick curtains had been drawn to block the sun. Only a dim grey light filtered in from the courtyard outside.
"It's early yet, the healers haven't even made their rounds," Gilan said. "I'm surprised Beatrice let you stay the night. She's usually very adamant about visiting hours."
"I didn't mean to stay," Fell explained as he hauled himself out of his chair, groaning as his stiff muscles ached in protest. "I must have fallen asleep." The Shadow gave the chair a rueful look as he rubbed at the back of his neck. He might have been better off sleeping on the floor.
"How is she?" Gilan asked. The Ranger nodded towards Strider, his tone turning soft. She looked smaller and paler than Gilan could ever remember seeing her.
"We should talk outside," Fell said quietly. Gilan nodded and led the way out into the hall. For a moment they simply walked in silence as Fell tried to decide what to tell the Ranger.
In truth, the Shadow wasn't entirely sure how his Deputy was fairing. After Mortimer had left Fell at Strider's door, he had slipped inside to find her sleeping fitfully and tossing and muttering in her sleep. Fell hadn't known whether to try and wake her or go for a healer, but before he could decide she'd started to mutter names. She said names Fell had never heard and names he knew. Halt, Gilan, Cassandra, even the name of her horse, but the name she said most often was his own. The Shadow had taken her hand and gently shaken her awake, whispering that he was there. When Strider woke, she stared at Fell with glassy eyes and regarded him as if he were a stranger, then squeezed his hand and went back to sleep.
Fell didn't remember how long he had stayed. He only remembered holding Strider's hand and listening to the uneven rasp of her breathing as she fell back asleep. He'd listened for a long time, willing the sound to become softer, smoother. It hadn't.
"Is it her ribs?" Gilan asked. Months ago the Ranger had been part of a mission to rescue Strider after she had been taken captive by the Cult. She'd been hunted through Meric fief by a contingent of Cult members before taking a bad fall from her horse. She'd broken several ribs, some during the fall, some during the days spent holed up the makeshift dungeon she'd been kept in. Gilan had led the attack to rescue Strider and still occasionally cursed himself for not getting to her sooner. After all, it had happened in Meric, the fief he was responsible for.
"I'm worried her ribs never really healed right to begin with," Fell said with a sigh, his thoughts travelling much the same route as Gilan's. When Strider had gone missing, he'd set to combing through the woods in Meric in an effort to find her. He too, felt as though it had taken too long to rescue his Deputy and felt responsible for the injuries.
"She's strong," Gilan said as he clapped a hand on Fell's shoulder. "She just needs more time."
"Speaking of time," Fell said as they neared the main archway of the medical wing. "How'd you get back from Meric so fast?"
"They sent a bird." The Ranger had only just settled in for the night in the comfort of his cabin when a servant from Meric castle had begun banging on his door, fumbling all over himself and spouting some gibberish about King Duncan being attacked. Gilan had made it back to Castle Araluen in record time and had spent much of the late night and early morning being brought up to speed on the events of the evening.
Now Gilan discreetly glanced sidelong at Fell, observing the way his friend carried himself. Gilan didn't remember exactly when he had begun thinking of Fell and Strider as friends and not simply comrades. Fell looked haggard and tired, his tunic rumpled from sleeping in a chair. The Ranger frowned at Fell's bloodied sleeve. "Have you had that looked at?"
"Not yet," Fell said as he plucked at the dried stain.
"Why don't you head home and get some rest and a change of clothes," Gilan suggested.
Fell glanced at him skeptically, "Mortimer isn't particularly fond of us right now. I'm a little worried if I leave Strider will be thrown in a dungeon before I get back."
"Mortimer is always threatening that," Gilan said. The Captain of the King's Guard was known for having a bit of a temper and a tendency to mince words with many. Despite this, Mortimer was still a well trusted hand of the King and had proven himself invaluable on many occasions.
Fell paused in the hallway near the main archway that led into the central corridor of the castle. Gilan couldn't help but notice the look he cast seemed a little wistful. Finally, Fell rubbed at his aching neck and glanced back towards Strider's room. He was tired, and he was certainly in need of a change of clothes and perhaps something to eat.
"She'll be fine," Gilan said, "I've got to see Crowley in a bit, but I'll keep an eye on her until then."
"Alright," Fell gave in. "I'll be back before you know it."
Been a while since I updated! The next few chapters are going to have more of Gilan and Halt!
