A/N: I probably wouldn't have started a new chapter so soon, but only two people reviewed and this is already on page two, so it looks like I'm going to have to remind you all this fic exists. Am I going to have to threaten again to get reviews?



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Inside the small cottage, the lights were almost too dim now for Ethan to continue his work. Only an extremely skilled tailor could sew in the dark, and Ethan doubted he had that talent. He put down the shirt he was sewing, sighing heavily. Business was slow since the war ended. So few people had enough money. His family's income had been seriously reduced after his parents had been killed. Now, Ethan had only his younger sister, Kyree, who made some occasional money curing people with her herbs and potions. A thought suddenly stuck him-where WAS she at the moment, anyway?



The sound of hoofbeats outside the door caused Ethan to become curious. He stood, leaning on his crutch. Luckily for Ethan, his trade did not require the use of his feet. His left foot had to be amputated after being crushed by an enemy's horse. Moving was difficult now, but not impossible.



Peering outside, a somewhat ludicrous sight greeted him. An enormous horse stood at the door, with a sword in its mouth. Upon closer inspection, Ethan realized this was no silly prank. The horse's rider was draped across its back, unconscious and bloody. That sword seemed familiar, too.



"Kyree, is that you?" he asked, knowing the answer. He was used to his sister altering her form. "I don't know what happened, or where that man came from, but you're not going to be able to fit inside the doorway like that."



The horse dropped the sword and snorted, incapable of human speech in this form. Ethan realized instantly what his sister wanted.



"I'll go get someone to carry him inside," Ethan said. "Is that what you want?" The horse nodded, and Ethan headed toward the nearest house as quickly as a man with a crutch could.



Kyree waited, fearing every minute help was delayed could be fatal for this unfortunate traveler. A few minutes passed, then her brother returned with two neighbors, who lifted the unconscious man off the horse's back. Kyree barely had time to change back to her true form when Ethan asked breathlessly, "What happened?"



"I was out gathering herbs," Kyree began, following her brother and neighbors inside, "when I just found him lying on the ground. My guess would be that he was attacked by a gang of thieves."



Ethan nodded in agreement. "You're probably right. They've been nothing but trouble for anyone traveling in these parts. He needs your care, Kyree."



"That's what I intend to do," she responded. Turning to her neighbors, she added, "Put him on that bed over in the corner. It belonged to my parents, but no one uses it now." They obeyed.



"Need us for anything else?" one asked.



"No, but thank you for your help. Ethan and I couldn't get him inside without your assistance."



As soon as they left, Kyree turned her attention to her patient. First, she gathered an armful of bandages, vials, bottles, and a piece of cloth and set them on the bedside table. She filled a bowl with cool water and set it beside the rest of the objects on the table before setting to work.



Kyree proceeded to carefully undress her patient. She gasped slightly when she saw he was covered in ugly cuts and bruises. She dipped the cloth in the bowl and began to wash his wounds, examining them at the same time. Once she had cleaned him, Kyree applied several different ointments and liquids to the man's wounds, then covered them in bandages. She replaced his undergarment, murmuring "No need to violate your modesty any more than I have to," then covered him with a quilt. "Wake up soon," she whispered, gently stroking his soft blue hair.



Ethan called from the doorway, "Kyree! You left your sword outside. That's not really a good idea!"



"I knew I was forgetting something," she answered. " I'll get it. Don't give me any of your lectures."



"Kyree, you can't be careless with weapons. I've told you countless times that if you..."



"I know, I know," she interrupted. "I just had so much on my mind that I completely neglected it." She picked up the sword, carried it inside, then remarked to her brother, "You know what?"



"No, I don't know what. I can't read your mind."



Kyree sighed disgustedly at her brother's smart-assed reply. "I think our guest may not be the poor traveler he appears to be."



"Oh? Why do you figure that?" Ethan gave his sister a curious look.



" I noticed that his undergarment is unusually well-made-and from an expensive looking material. My guess is that he dressed simply to avoid attention and didn't think to make his underclothes match his disguise."



"Most people wouldn't," Ethan said dryly. "Unless of course, he's some sort of exhibitionist."



Kyree glared. "Enough of your wiseass remarks, Ethan! Though, of course, you're right. Most people don't anticipate anyone seeing their underwear when they travel."



"This conversation is getting ridiculous. How serious are his wounds?"



"He has a few deep cuts, but most of them should heal without any problems. I think he's lost a lot of blood, though."



"Do you expect him to live?"



"At this moment, I really don't know," she answered somewhat sadly. "All we can do is wait."

******



Marth awoke the next day in agony. The incredible pain from his wounds was almost too much to bear. He tried to sit up, only to discover he was too weak to move more than a tiny bit. He groaned softly.



Kyree was awakened by a noise that sounded like someone in pain. She had moved her mattress next to her patient's bed in case he awoke during the night and needed her. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and noticed the man she'd rescued peering curiously at her.



"Who are you? Where am I?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.



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Just a short chapter for now, more will come soon. Please, no flames about the underwear thing. I'm not sure why I put it in there, really.