Chapter 40
[Late afternoon, same day]
"Master," Meri began.
The hesitancy in her voice immediately drew Alex's attention to his Padawan. She was awake and alert as he awoke from his own nap.
She lay on her stomach, her chin propped on her folded arms, which in turn were supported by the pillow. A worried look shadowed her youthful features and she avoided looking directly at him. Instead, her gaze alternated from the rain-streaked windows to the tiled floor.
"Yes, Meri," he answered quietly and not without some amusement. It was clear that his apprentice was about to ask a question that made her very uncomfortable, if her fidgeting was any indication. One slender leg hung out from beneath her blanket, and her foot was tapping a nervous rhythm.
"Who … who is Tarrishagh?"
The question was asked haltingly, yet it still startled him. One black brow rose as Alex gazed intently at his apprentice, who returned his gaze, her dark eyes full of curiosity, and something else he couldn't identify. Her foot had stopped its wiggling about and now hung motionless.
For one moment, he felt a rush of apprehension as he wondered if she had heard his thoughts as he had rushed to find her on Dubh nán. He hadn't meant to use the term. Where he came from, it was a term of endearment, meant for a lover, or life mate.
It had been a dreadful error on his part, in a moment filled with incredible tension. A slip up, a blunder.
The awkwardness in the room seemed to spread to hang in a thick layer over Alex, as his hesitation in answering continued into a heavy silence.
Meri looked down as her foot began, once again, to dance nervously.
Alex cleared his throat. "Why do you ask," he asked in soft tones.
Meri glanced up, then back down, appearing to study the infirmary floor with keen interest. "You, well you," she began hesitantly.
"When you were feverish," she explained, her voice firming. "You said you … you loved…her," she finished.
This time it was he who averted his gaze from her questioning eyes. He took a deep breath and fought to keep his center. *This isn't happening,* he told himself. *You don't love her, not in that way … it's the results of a feverish mind …*, his thoughts rambled on, unaware that his apprentice was ready to flee the room at his silence.
He took a deep breath and looked up as he pushed a hand through his rumpled hair. "Well, I was feverish," he replied lightly. "I don't recall saying anything of that sort."
*But you did*, her gaze argued back.
He needed no words from her to know what she was thinking. A sigh escaped him. "It is a term," he began. "It means 'Beloved.' It is not anyone's name, Padawan."
"I've never heard it before," she said cautiously.
Alex knew he was being prompted to elaborate. He felt irritation rising within. Not at Meri, not directly. He didn't want to talk about this and he didn't want to elaborate!
"I've never said it before," he said sharply. "I'm not in love with anyone, Meri. People with fevers say strange things. Ask An-Paj."
"Ask me what?"
The healer's sudden appearance shattered the rising tension in the room and Alex fell silent, guilt already rising at the sharpness of his words towards his apprentice.
Ignoring the inquiring tilt of the blue healers head and the gentle waving of his antenna in question, Alex spared a glance at Meri. He wanted to groan in frustration as he saw she had turned to hide her face from him. She couldn't hide from their bond, however. That tie was too strong and he felt the small, hurt retreat she tried to make.
"Somebody is grumpy!" An-Paj exclaimed as though he had suddenly come to the conclusion. "Don't mind him, Meri. You're Master is still very sick and as a result, rather grouchy," the healer winked at Alex as he attempted to draw out the apprentice.
Alex watched as the healer bent to whisper a few words into Meri's ear. She finally turned her face upwards in response and the knight surreptitiously searched for signs of tears.
There were none, he realized, but he still had to apologize. After An-Paj left, however. Maybe his sickness was to blame. Or maybe he was sick in the head for snapping at her undeservingly --- for the second time that he could ever remember.
With a dejected sigh, Alex slumped back against the pillows behind him as he watched the healer dress Meri's wounds.
The only sound in the room was the soft movements of An-Paj and the rain, which still fell, pattering quietly against the glass.
A racking cough shook the room, breaking the quiet, and it left Alex fighting for breath.
When the coughing fit was over, he looked up and found both An-Paj and his apprentice looking at him. The healer's gaze was calculating and Meri … Meri was worried.
Placing the last strip of medicated gauze on Meri's back, the healer turned toward Alex and said cheerfully. "Time for another dose of medication, eh."
With that, he strode quickly out of the room giving Alex his welcome chance.
"Meri, I'm sorry for biting your head off. I guess I am a bit cranky," he paused.
"It's alright, Master," she assured quickly. "I shouldn't have pried."
"You weren't prying, Meri. It's just a term. I had no idea I had said anything and I guess it was disconcerting to find I was making declarations of love and not aware of it." Exasperation laced his voice.
Meri smiled lightly at his words.
"I'm sorry," he said again as his blue eyes fastened on her with a sincere and piercing gaze.
"So there is no one I need to know about," Meri teased.
He would have laughed, but feared another outbreak of coughing. "No!" came the adamant response.
An-Paj chose that moment to reenter carrying a large hypospray full of medication. "Say bye bye to your Master, Meri. I'm afraid this might make him a tad sleepy."
The grin on his face suggested to Alex it would do more than that and his suspicions were correct. Not long after An-Paj's ministrations, Alex began to feel rather drowsy. Within minutes, the knight had dropped off into a deep, healing sleep.
[Late afternoon, same day]
"Master," Meri began.
The hesitancy in her voice immediately drew Alex's attention to his Padawan. She was awake and alert as he awoke from his own nap.
She lay on her stomach, her chin propped on her folded arms, which in turn were supported by the pillow. A worried look shadowed her youthful features and she avoided looking directly at him. Instead, her gaze alternated from the rain-streaked windows to the tiled floor.
"Yes, Meri," he answered quietly and not without some amusement. It was clear that his apprentice was about to ask a question that made her very uncomfortable, if her fidgeting was any indication. One slender leg hung out from beneath her blanket, and her foot was tapping a nervous rhythm.
"Who … who is Tarrishagh?"
The question was asked haltingly, yet it still startled him. One black brow rose as Alex gazed intently at his apprentice, who returned his gaze, her dark eyes full of curiosity, and something else he couldn't identify. Her foot had stopped its wiggling about and now hung motionless.
For one moment, he felt a rush of apprehension as he wondered if she had heard his thoughts as he had rushed to find her on Dubh nán. He hadn't meant to use the term. Where he came from, it was a term of endearment, meant for a lover, or life mate.
It had been a dreadful error on his part, in a moment filled with incredible tension. A slip up, a blunder.
The awkwardness in the room seemed to spread to hang in a thick layer over Alex, as his hesitation in answering continued into a heavy silence.
Meri looked down as her foot began, once again, to dance nervously.
Alex cleared his throat. "Why do you ask," he asked in soft tones.
Meri glanced up, then back down, appearing to study the infirmary floor with keen interest. "You, well you," she began hesitantly.
"When you were feverish," she explained, her voice firming. "You said you … you loved…her," she finished.
This time it was he who averted his gaze from her questioning eyes. He took a deep breath and fought to keep his center. *This isn't happening,* he told himself. *You don't love her, not in that way … it's the results of a feverish mind …*, his thoughts rambled on, unaware that his apprentice was ready to flee the room at his silence.
He took a deep breath and looked up as he pushed a hand through his rumpled hair. "Well, I was feverish," he replied lightly. "I don't recall saying anything of that sort."
*But you did*, her gaze argued back.
He needed no words from her to know what she was thinking. A sigh escaped him. "It is a term," he began. "It means 'Beloved.' It is not anyone's name, Padawan."
"I've never heard it before," she said cautiously.
Alex knew he was being prompted to elaborate. He felt irritation rising within. Not at Meri, not directly. He didn't want to talk about this and he didn't want to elaborate!
"I've never said it before," he said sharply. "I'm not in love with anyone, Meri. People with fevers say strange things. Ask An-Paj."
"Ask me what?"
The healer's sudden appearance shattered the rising tension in the room and Alex fell silent, guilt already rising at the sharpness of his words towards his apprentice.
Ignoring the inquiring tilt of the blue healers head and the gentle waving of his antenna in question, Alex spared a glance at Meri. He wanted to groan in frustration as he saw she had turned to hide her face from him. She couldn't hide from their bond, however. That tie was too strong and he felt the small, hurt retreat she tried to make.
"Somebody is grumpy!" An-Paj exclaimed as though he had suddenly come to the conclusion. "Don't mind him, Meri. You're Master is still very sick and as a result, rather grouchy," the healer winked at Alex as he attempted to draw out the apprentice.
Alex watched as the healer bent to whisper a few words into Meri's ear. She finally turned her face upwards in response and the knight surreptitiously searched for signs of tears.
There were none, he realized, but he still had to apologize. After An-Paj left, however. Maybe his sickness was to blame. Or maybe he was sick in the head for snapping at her undeservingly --- for the second time that he could ever remember.
With a dejected sigh, Alex slumped back against the pillows behind him as he watched the healer dress Meri's wounds.
The only sound in the room was the soft movements of An-Paj and the rain, which still fell, pattering quietly against the glass.
A racking cough shook the room, breaking the quiet, and it left Alex fighting for breath.
When the coughing fit was over, he looked up and found both An-Paj and his apprentice looking at him. The healer's gaze was calculating and Meri … Meri was worried.
Placing the last strip of medicated gauze on Meri's back, the healer turned toward Alex and said cheerfully. "Time for another dose of medication, eh."
With that, he strode quickly out of the room giving Alex his welcome chance.
"Meri, I'm sorry for biting your head off. I guess I am a bit cranky," he paused.
"It's alright, Master," she assured quickly. "I shouldn't have pried."
"You weren't prying, Meri. It's just a term. I had no idea I had said anything and I guess it was disconcerting to find I was making declarations of love and not aware of it." Exasperation laced his voice.
Meri smiled lightly at his words.
"I'm sorry," he said again as his blue eyes fastened on her with a sincere and piercing gaze.
"So there is no one I need to know about," Meri teased.
He would have laughed, but feared another outbreak of coughing. "No!" came the adamant response.
An-Paj chose that moment to reenter carrying a large hypospray full of medication. "Say bye bye to your Master, Meri. I'm afraid this might make him a tad sleepy."
The grin on his face suggested to Alex it would do more than that and his suspicions were correct. Not long after An-Paj's ministrations, Alex began to feel rather drowsy. Within minutes, the knight had dropped off into a deep, healing sleep.
