*~*
I don't own Trigun, but Liana and the townspeople are mine.
I'd glad you like it Eria! I'd love some fan art, that would rock. As for her name (here comes the long explanation)--
Originally, she was going to be named one of my favorite names, Trista, which is the female version of Tristan, which (from all the sources I've read) has Celtic roots, and it means riot or tumult. It also has connections to the Latin 'tristus' which indeed means sad.
I was also considering Triste, which in French and Spanish means sad, something I was aware of, and thought would be rather metaphorical. When I was spell-checking my story in Word, it obviously didn't recognize Trista or Triste, (since it is not a common name or English) but when I went to add it to my dictionary, I saw that an option for her name was Trieste. I thought it was an even better name so I kept that instead. I recently found out that Trieste is a city in Italy, so I have some research to do.
So her name when from riot/sad to an Italian city!
And one more thing! (Last one, I promise!) I'm not going to have an update for a long time, as of May 20, 2003 as I am graduating from High School on the 25th. Between last minute work, graduation itself, getting into summer, and all sorts of things, I'm not going to have too many chances to get on the computer. But worry not! It's here in my head, and I will finish the story.
*~*
Trieste did not have a solid memory of the past week at all; it was just muffled, blurred sounds and images that faded away. Sharp pain brought her back to lucidity and in these few precious moments, she realized she was drugged, she was seriously wounded, and that she was in the hands of strangers. But soon she would float away again, forgetting everything around her. The past day and a half were better, though; the doctor wasn't drugging her up every few hours-or every time she *moved*. She wondered vaguely if he worked for Legato, but she figured she'd be dead by now if he did. The nights were particularly odd, because there was a candle on a table next to the bed-why they didn't use regular lights, she didn't understand-and when she watched it too long, the flame morphed into large specters dancing across her ceiling. She could hear Legato and see his shadow, but he always slipped away, laughing. She was finally able to move body parts coherently and she moved as much as she could, not knowing when she'd fall back into a drug induced haze.
::Damn that doctor,:: she thought numbly as things went out of focus. She groaned and tried to keep her eyes open; now she was imagining that man, Vash, was in the room and looking down at her worriedly. He seemed to care about her welfare. She could actually feel his hand caressing her face gently. ::What the hell kind of drugs are they giving me?:: she wondered. She could hear him now, asking if...she could hear him. She laughed then went back to sleep. ::The drugs must be in the food,:: she mused and all was dark.
*~*
Vash's eye watered up when he saw the female figure on the bed. She was wrapped up and bandaged everywhere, Vash almost didn't recognize her. Whoever had dressed her had put on a long, white cotton skirt and a man's white blouse to clothe her, which was slightly disconcerting for Vash. He walked slowly to her and was surprised to find her eyes open-hazy and unfocused, but open. Unable to control himself, he reached out and ran his hand lightly over the side of her face that wasn't bandaged up, half expecting her to grab his hand and break his wrist. He leaned down closer.
'Hi, ma'am.' No real response. 'Can you hear me?' He was startled by a bubble of laughter and then her eyes slowly closed. Vash looked around, grabbed a stool from the corner, then sat down next to her bed. He ran his hand over her hair, feeling his affection grow for the sleeping woman. He knew there was a lot more to the story than what he had been told-the real reason she had practically sacrificed her life for the girl she didn't know. While he found it hard to believe she was as ruthless as she described herself, he knew she was definitely not the hero type. 'When you wake up, you're going to tell me your story, young lady.' Vash then made a critical mistake: he leaned in and whispered in her ear 'I can be trusted, I will help you deal with that Legato man, but I will not let you kill him.' Then he got up and left to get himself a room.
After registering and paying, Vash went to his Thomas to unpack his meager belongings. When he came back to his room, he found Liana folding sheets onto his bed. Her hair was pulled back into a half-hung bun, and she had washed the dirt off her face and arms. In fact, she had changed into a light blue dress with short sleeves and a pleated skirt. She was humming quietly as she finished tucking in the blanket. She bent down, picked up the sheets that were on the floor, and turned around to find Vash watching her.
'Oh, sir! You startled me! Can I help you?' Her voice was sweet and pretty to Vash, and her green eyes reflected warmness that rivaled his own. Vash immediately liked her very much.
'Oh, no I just came to put my stuff in my room. You're Liana, right?' When she nodded, he stuck out his hand to shake. 'I'm Vash, very pleased to meet you. How have you been?'
'Oh, I see you've been told our story. Yes, I am doing well enough. If it wasn't for that girl, I don't know what this town would have done. She was very brave-and kind,' she added falteringly. Vash quirked an eyebrow.
'Kind doesn't seem to be the word you want to use.' She hesitated, and Vash smiled openly. Waving his hand, he motioned towards the bed. 'Sit down and tell me what you're really thinking.' He grabbed a chair from across the doorway and sat across from her.
'Well...' Sitting on the bed, she thought hard, trying to be as specific as she possibly could. 'She was kind in her actions, but not in her manner. She seemed so angry and rough. I can understand being annoyed with me wandering around, but everything about her seemed bitter. I got the feeling she didn't want to be doing what she was doing. Like it was an aggravation.' She looked at her hands in guilt. 'I mean, I feel horrible saying that, but-'
'It's what you felt,' Vash interrupted smoothly. 'Tell me, do you know who these men worked for? Did they say at all?'
'Oh, yes, some man named Legato Bluesummers. They said we had offended him but I can't imagine how.' She frowned, thinking. 'I just don't understand what took them so long. I mean, we were in the streets for hours upon hours, needless hours. You'd think they were waiting for a signal to leave. It was maddening.' She paused and sighed. 'I just hope some one finds that Legato and locks him up for what he did to this town. He is astoundingly cruel. A-a soul gone mad!' She suddenly stood up. 'Oh, I've been talking and talking, I have to go and take care of the other rooms. My mother-she and my father own this tavern-would not be pleased if I didn't get the other rooms prepared. I will see you later, Mr. Vash.' Vash stood up and bowed.
'Just Vash, please. It was a pleasure meeting you, I hope to see you around often.' She smiled and looked down, then walked out. Vash closed the door behind her ::Pretty lady!!:: he thought with a large grin. He flopped onto his bed and, after a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, dozed off into a much needed nap. When he shook himself awake hours later, the sun was beginning to fade and his room was lit up with a fiery orange that burst through his open windows. Yawning, he wandered downstairs just in time to see a man who looked to be in his mid-forties packing up a small black bag.
'My visits to her will be done soon from what I can see. It has been quite a while since I've handled a patient that badly damaged, but I think she will be fine.' The middle aged woman he was talking to nodded. She was about to speak when Vash quickly made his way over to the two.
'Are you the doctor taking care of the girl upstairs?' The doctor, somewhat startled by Vash's sudden appearance, put his bag back on the floor and nodded.
'I am indeed. Why?'
'I was very touched when I heard her story, and I was wondering how well she's healing.' The doctor smiled kindly.
'Well, your concern would be well-appreciated I imagine. Well, let me see...firstly, despite the extent of the harm done to her, she is far less wounded than I was expecting. When those men pulled her from the wreckage, I hardly thought she would be alive. Not only did she have broken bones and cracked ribs, a previous bullet wound was opened up. She had a fever for a few days. I think this greatly upset her.' Vash looked at the doctor oddly.
'I thought she was unconscious-'
'Oh, yes, well, look at it this way. When I was a child, I had a fever. My hands felt just like...two balloons. It was rather discomforting because I would feel like I was awake but could never be sure. The fact that I couldn't tell the difference between dreams and reality was almost maddening at times. This young lady has a fever and I've been giving her more sedatives and drugs than I've ever given another patient her size. But she keeps waking up! When she should be out cold I see her opening her eyes and trying to move her arms, and I don't think she liked whatever her drug-induced dreams showed her. And also, her body is quite literally fighting the drugs, so I've been forced to give her more to keep her out of pain. I've been letting them drop because she's healing relatively quickly.'
'I am very glad to hear that. I was wondering, do you know anything about her? Has she ever been awake enough to talk?' The doctor shook his head.
'No, never coherently. The only clear words I ever head were 'Damn doctor and his drugs' and very often at that. She also called out for a 'Miss' once or twice. We finally figured that it was her horse; there's a fancy 'M' engraved onto the saddle. The horse won't let us get to the bags, and we don't feel like pushing it. So, basically, we know nothing about her except she's strong, an excellent shot, the gun she carries is quite unique, and portrays herself as a man-at least she did to us.'
'Well, I hope she feels better soon. I'm glad she has a competent care-giver.' The doctor smiled and picked up his bag.
'Thank you. Well, I must be going. Good bye, I will see you tomorrow.' Vash waved happily and the doctor walked out.
*~*
Trieste opened her eyes wide. She could see clearly, more importantly, she could *think* clearly. She picked up her left arm and wriggled her fingers, stiff and sore, but under her control. Her right arm was bandaged too tightly to be moved very much. She tried to move her legs. The left was sore as well, but mobile; her right knee was wrapped up and her whole leg was painful as well. She soon realized there was a cast over her shin. She gingerly touched her stomach and ribs and winced as she pressed tender areas. All in all, though, she was in good condition, considering half of a Goddamned building fell on top of her. The wrapping around her face was infuriating, but she didn't remove it. She picked up her head slightly, groaning at the stiffness of her neck. The room was somewhat small, but a good enough size for a single traveler only staying for a night or two. It was roughly twelve feet wide and sixteen feet long with the bed, a dresser, a small nightstand, and a stool that was next to the bed. It was cozy, really. Trieste groaned. She wasn't used to cozy and she just wanted to find Legato. She remembered her hallucination of Vash and then joltingly recalled his last message to her, something about trusted, helping, and not killing Legato.
'Well, what the hell does that mean? Visions of Vash have nothing to do with Legato. What kind of drugs did the guy give me?!' She groaned and tried to get out of bed. It resulted in her collapsing on to the ground and an extreme effort to cut short a pained cry. 'Good God in Heaven, argh!' She tried to lift herself with just her left arm, but fell again. 'Fuck.' Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the top of her bed and began to hoist herself up onto her left leg and was soon shakily standing on her one leg mostly, barely able to stand. She looked around for something to hold herself up with, but there was nothing she could move around with. She sat down on her bed angrily. 'Damnit, I want to get out of here!' But even as she said the words, she realized the folly of her sentiment; she couldn't survive like this in the dessert. She would *have* to wait until she healed. 'Well, I will not remain bed ridden! I'm gonna find that doctor and get some crutches. I'll make my own if I have to!' She tried to ignore the foolishness of her mind set by figuring out how she was going to get to the doorway. The bed, of course, was on the right side and she needed to lean on her left. Sighing, she slid to the end of the bed then, as gently as she possibly could, lowered herself to the floor. Pushing and pulling with her left limbs, she managed to get to her closed door after an excruciatingly long time. Quite exhausted, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and breathed raggedly. The drugs were still working through her system and the fact that she hadn't left her bed in God knows how long didn't help matters much. Everything pained her, her entire body protested against the rough movement. She sat wondering how she was going to move about in the hallways when the door opened and the woman she had accidentally saved walked in with a tray of food. She didn't see Trieste on the floor, so she was quite shocked when she saw the empty bed.
'Oh, no! Where did she go?' She walked in and placed the food down on the small nightstand. 'How did she move?'
'I'm not so weak that I can't get around, even if my arm and leg is broken,' Trieste said from her position on the floor. The woman whirled around, somewhat shocked.
'You-what are you doing?' She rushed down and sat down next to Trieste worriedly. 'I don't think the doctor wants you moving around yet.'
'Too damn bad. I would very much like some crutches so I can walk around, though, so if you could tell him to get me some right away, that would be very nice.' The woman's green eyes widened at her request, and she shook her head vigorously.
'You need to gain your strength first.'
'The only way I'll 'gain strength' is by moving around and working my un-bandaged muscles. Thank you, but I know how my body works. I know what it needs. So some crutches are all I want.' The woman sighed, resigned.
'Well, fine, we'll get you crutches. But please get back into bed for now.' She got up and leaned over to help move Trieste, but she pushed her hand away.
'I'd rather go downstairs, if you please.' The woman shook her head firmly.
'No, I'm sorry, with your immobility, you'll just be in the way. You stay in bed until you get the crutches.' She reached down to help Trieste up again, but she pushed the hand away a second time.
'If I got here, I can get back there.' Trieste then slowly and even more painfully crawled back to the bed and somehow hoisted herself back up, the young woman watching with a frown and folded arms. Trieste pulled the blankets back over her body and propped herself against the backboard of the bed frame; she then looked at the standing woman expectantly. 'Are there any drugs in the food this time? Cause I would really like some un-drugged food. I prefer to be awake, I don't care how much it hurts.' The woman laughed.
'You're only saying that because you know the worst is over. You don't have to pull that bravado with me, you're not a man.' Trieste sneered and looked at the woman with a cool eye.
'It's not bravado, and I think I'm well aware of what gender I am. No more drugs,' she restated firmly. If the woman was offended by Trieste's attitude, she didn't show it.
'There are no drugs in your food, and we'll be sure that none are added in the future. You can stay awake and keep your pain you're so proud of.' Trieste frowned again.
'It's not pride...and wouldn't you prefer to be conscious of what's going on around you?' The woman smiled gently and stepped closer to the bed.
'No, I would trust that the doctor knows what he is doing. We can all afford a break from reality in the care of others.'
'I can't. But if you'll excuse me, I'd like to feed myself in private.'
'Oh, of course. My name is Liana, by the way. What's yours?'
'I don't tell that to people.' Liana gave her an odd look.
'What, is it something very strange? You don't need to be embarrassed by it, you know.' Trieste just picked up her food tray and calmly began to eat.
'I prefer to not tell anyone it, that's all.' When it became apparent to Liana that Trieste wasn't going to talk, she shrugged and walked out, closing the door behind her. During her meal, Trieste contemplated her situation carefully and was quite annoyed that she honestly had to judge herself almost completely helpless in her situation. Annoyed, but also worried. She didn't know what the people were like, or if Legato would send his men after her. Nothing would have made Trieste happier before, but death was assured considering her position. She couldn't ride, there was no where to hide, and the family was obviously keeping an eye on her. 'GodDAMNit! How the hell am I going to get out here?'
*~*
I don't own Trigun, but Liana and the townspeople are mine.
I'd glad you like it Eria! I'd love some fan art, that would rock. As for her name (here comes the long explanation)--
Originally, she was going to be named one of my favorite names, Trista, which is the female version of Tristan, which (from all the sources I've read) has Celtic roots, and it means riot or tumult. It also has connections to the Latin 'tristus' which indeed means sad.
I was also considering Triste, which in French and Spanish means sad, something I was aware of, and thought would be rather metaphorical. When I was spell-checking my story in Word, it obviously didn't recognize Trista or Triste, (since it is not a common name or English) but when I went to add it to my dictionary, I saw that an option for her name was Trieste. I thought it was an even better name so I kept that instead. I recently found out that Trieste is a city in Italy, so I have some research to do.
So her name when from riot/sad to an Italian city!
And one more thing! (Last one, I promise!) I'm not going to have an update for a long time, as of May 20, 2003 as I am graduating from High School on the 25th. Between last minute work, graduation itself, getting into summer, and all sorts of things, I'm not going to have too many chances to get on the computer. But worry not! It's here in my head, and I will finish the story.
*~*
Trieste did not have a solid memory of the past week at all; it was just muffled, blurred sounds and images that faded away. Sharp pain brought her back to lucidity and in these few precious moments, she realized she was drugged, she was seriously wounded, and that she was in the hands of strangers. But soon she would float away again, forgetting everything around her. The past day and a half were better, though; the doctor wasn't drugging her up every few hours-or every time she *moved*. She wondered vaguely if he worked for Legato, but she figured she'd be dead by now if he did. The nights were particularly odd, because there was a candle on a table next to the bed-why they didn't use regular lights, she didn't understand-and when she watched it too long, the flame morphed into large specters dancing across her ceiling. She could hear Legato and see his shadow, but he always slipped away, laughing. She was finally able to move body parts coherently and she moved as much as she could, not knowing when she'd fall back into a drug induced haze.
::Damn that doctor,:: she thought numbly as things went out of focus. She groaned and tried to keep her eyes open; now she was imagining that man, Vash, was in the room and looking down at her worriedly. He seemed to care about her welfare. She could actually feel his hand caressing her face gently. ::What the hell kind of drugs are they giving me?:: she wondered. She could hear him now, asking if...she could hear him. She laughed then went back to sleep. ::The drugs must be in the food,:: she mused and all was dark.
*~*
Vash's eye watered up when he saw the female figure on the bed. She was wrapped up and bandaged everywhere, Vash almost didn't recognize her. Whoever had dressed her had put on a long, white cotton skirt and a man's white blouse to clothe her, which was slightly disconcerting for Vash. He walked slowly to her and was surprised to find her eyes open-hazy and unfocused, but open. Unable to control himself, he reached out and ran his hand lightly over the side of her face that wasn't bandaged up, half expecting her to grab his hand and break his wrist. He leaned down closer.
'Hi, ma'am.' No real response. 'Can you hear me?' He was startled by a bubble of laughter and then her eyes slowly closed. Vash looked around, grabbed a stool from the corner, then sat down next to her bed. He ran his hand over her hair, feeling his affection grow for the sleeping woman. He knew there was a lot more to the story than what he had been told-the real reason she had practically sacrificed her life for the girl she didn't know. While he found it hard to believe she was as ruthless as she described herself, he knew she was definitely not the hero type. 'When you wake up, you're going to tell me your story, young lady.' Vash then made a critical mistake: he leaned in and whispered in her ear 'I can be trusted, I will help you deal with that Legato man, but I will not let you kill him.' Then he got up and left to get himself a room.
After registering and paying, Vash went to his Thomas to unpack his meager belongings. When he came back to his room, he found Liana folding sheets onto his bed. Her hair was pulled back into a half-hung bun, and she had washed the dirt off her face and arms. In fact, she had changed into a light blue dress with short sleeves and a pleated skirt. She was humming quietly as she finished tucking in the blanket. She bent down, picked up the sheets that were on the floor, and turned around to find Vash watching her.
'Oh, sir! You startled me! Can I help you?' Her voice was sweet and pretty to Vash, and her green eyes reflected warmness that rivaled his own. Vash immediately liked her very much.
'Oh, no I just came to put my stuff in my room. You're Liana, right?' When she nodded, he stuck out his hand to shake. 'I'm Vash, very pleased to meet you. How have you been?'
'Oh, I see you've been told our story. Yes, I am doing well enough. If it wasn't for that girl, I don't know what this town would have done. She was very brave-and kind,' she added falteringly. Vash quirked an eyebrow.
'Kind doesn't seem to be the word you want to use.' She hesitated, and Vash smiled openly. Waving his hand, he motioned towards the bed. 'Sit down and tell me what you're really thinking.' He grabbed a chair from across the doorway and sat across from her.
'Well...' Sitting on the bed, she thought hard, trying to be as specific as she possibly could. 'She was kind in her actions, but not in her manner. She seemed so angry and rough. I can understand being annoyed with me wandering around, but everything about her seemed bitter. I got the feeling she didn't want to be doing what she was doing. Like it was an aggravation.' She looked at her hands in guilt. 'I mean, I feel horrible saying that, but-'
'It's what you felt,' Vash interrupted smoothly. 'Tell me, do you know who these men worked for? Did they say at all?'
'Oh, yes, some man named Legato Bluesummers. They said we had offended him but I can't imagine how.' She frowned, thinking. 'I just don't understand what took them so long. I mean, we were in the streets for hours upon hours, needless hours. You'd think they were waiting for a signal to leave. It was maddening.' She paused and sighed. 'I just hope some one finds that Legato and locks him up for what he did to this town. He is astoundingly cruel. A-a soul gone mad!' She suddenly stood up. 'Oh, I've been talking and talking, I have to go and take care of the other rooms. My mother-she and my father own this tavern-would not be pleased if I didn't get the other rooms prepared. I will see you later, Mr. Vash.' Vash stood up and bowed.
'Just Vash, please. It was a pleasure meeting you, I hope to see you around often.' She smiled and looked down, then walked out. Vash closed the door behind her ::Pretty lady!!:: he thought with a large grin. He flopped onto his bed and, after a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, dozed off into a much needed nap. When he shook himself awake hours later, the sun was beginning to fade and his room was lit up with a fiery orange that burst through his open windows. Yawning, he wandered downstairs just in time to see a man who looked to be in his mid-forties packing up a small black bag.
'My visits to her will be done soon from what I can see. It has been quite a while since I've handled a patient that badly damaged, but I think she will be fine.' The middle aged woman he was talking to nodded. She was about to speak when Vash quickly made his way over to the two.
'Are you the doctor taking care of the girl upstairs?' The doctor, somewhat startled by Vash's sudden appearance, put his bag back on the floor and nodded.
'I am indeed. Why?'
'I was very touched when I heard her story, and I was wondering how well she's healing.' The doctor smiled kindly.
'Well, your concern would be well-appreciated I imagine. Well, let me see...firstly, despite the extent of the harm done to her, she is far less wounded than I was expecting. When those men pulled her from the wreckage, I hardly thought she would be alive. Not only did she have broken bones and cracked ribs, a previous bullet wound was opened up. She had a fever for a few days. I think this greatly upset her.' Vash looked at the doctor oddly.
'I thought she was unconscious-'
'Oh, yes, well, look at it this way. When I was a child, I had a fever. My hands felt just like...two balloons. It was rather discomforting because I would feel like I was awake but could never be sure. The fact that I couldn't tell the difference between dreams and reality was almost maddening at times. This young lady has a fever and I've been giving her more sedatives and drugs than I've ever given another patient her size. But she keeps waking up! When she should be out cold I see her opening her eyes and trying to move her arms, and I don't think she liked whatever her drug-induced dreams showed her. And also, her body is quite literally fighting the drugs, so I've been forced to give her more to keep her out of pain. I've been letting them drop because she's healing relatively quickly.'
'I am very glad to hear that. I was wondering, do you know anything about her? Has she ever been awake enough to talk?' The doctor shook his head.
'No, never coherently. The only clear words I ever head were 'Damn doctor and his drugs' and very often at that. She also called out for a 'Miss' once or twice. We finally figured that it was her horse; there's a fancy 'M' engraved onto the saddle. The horse won't let us get to the bags, and we don't feel like pushing it. So, basically, we know nothing about her except she's strong, an excellent shot, the gun she carries is quite unique, and portrays herself as a man-at least she did to us.'
'Well, I hope she feels better soon. I'm glad she has a competent care-giver.' The doctor smiled and picked up his bag.
'Thank you. Well, I must be going. Good bye, I will see you tomorrow.' Vash waved happily and the doctor walked out.
*~*
Trieste opened her eyes wide. She could see clearly, more importantly, she could *think* clearly. She picked up her left arm and wriggled her fingers, stiff and sore, but under her control. Her right arm was bandaged too tightly to be moved very much. She tried to move her legs. The left was sore as well, but mobile; her right knee was wrapped up and her whole leg was painful as well. She soon realized there was a cast over her shin. She gingerly touched her stomach and ribs and winced as she pressed tender areas. All in all, though, she was in good condition, considering half of a Goddamned building fell on top of her. The wrapping around her face was infuriating, but she didn't remove it. She picked up her head slightly, groaning at the stiffness of her neck. The room was somewhat small, but a good enough size for a single traveler only staying for a night or two. It was roughly twelve feet wide and sixteen feet long with the bed, a dresser, a small nightstand, and a stool that was next to the bed. It was cozy, really. Trieste groaned. She wasn't used to cozy and she just wanted to find Legato. She remembered her hallucination of Vash and then joltingly recalled his last message to her, something about trusted, helping, and not killing Legato.
'Well, what the hell does that mean? Visions of Vash have nothing to do with Legato. What kind of drugs did the guy give me?!' She groaned and tried to get out of bed. It resulted in her collapsing on to the ground and an extreme effort to cut short a pained cry. 'Good God in Heaven, argh!' She tried to lift herself with just her left arm, but fell again. 'Fuck.' Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the top of her bed and began to hoist herself up onto her left leg and was soon shakily standing on her one leg mostly, barely able to stand. She looked around for something to hold herself up with, but there was nothing she could move around with. She sat down on her bed angrily. 'Damnit, I want to get out of here!' But even as she said the words, she realized the folly of her sentiment; she couldn't survive like this in the dessert. She would *have* to wait until she healed. 'Well, I will not remain bed ridden! I'm gonna find that doctor and get some crutches. I'll make my own if I have to!' She tried to ignore the foolishness of her mind set by figuring out how she was going to get to the doorway. The bed, of course, was on the right side and she needed to lean on her left. Sighing, she slid to the end of the bed then, as gently as she possibly could, lowered herself to the floor. Pushing and pulling with her left limbs, she managed to get to her closed door after an excruciatingly long time. Quite exhausted, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and breathed raggedly. The drugs were still working through her system and the fact that she hadn't left her bed in God knows how long didn't help matters much. Everything pained her, her entire body protested against the rough movement. She sat wondering how she was going to move about in the hallways when the door opened and the woman she had accidentally saved walked in with a tray of food. She didn't see Trieste on the floor, so she was quite shocked when she saw the empty bed.
'Oh, no! Where did she go?' She walked in and placed the food down on the small nightstand. 'How did she move?'
'I'm not so weak that I can't get around, even if my arm and leg is broken,' Trieste said from her position on the floor. The woman whirled around, somewhat shocked.
'You-what are you doing?' She rushed down and sat down next to Trieste worriedly. 'I don't think the doctor wants you moving around yet.'
'Too damn bad. I would very much like some crutches so I can walk around, though, so if you could tell him to get me some right away, that would be very nice.' The woman's green eyes widened at her request, and she shook her head vigorously.
'You need to gain your strength first.'
'The only way I'll 'gain strength' is by moving around and working my un-bandaged muscles. Thank you, but I know how my body works. I know what it needs. So some crutches are all I want.' The woman sighed, resigned.
'Well, fine, we'll get you crutches. But please get back into bed for now.' She got up and leaned over to help move Trieste, but she pushed her hand away.
'I'd rather go downstairs, if you please.' The woman shook her head firmly.
'No, I'm sorry, with your immobility, you'll just be in the way. You stay in bed until you get the crutches.' She reached down to help Trieste up again, but she pushed the hand away a second time.
'If I got here, I can get back there.' Trieste then slowly and even more painfully crawled back to the bed and somehow hoisted herself back up, the young woman watching with a frown and folded arms. Trieste pulled the blankets back over her body and propped herself against the backboard of the bed frame; she then looked at the standing woman expectantly. 'Are there any drugs in the food this time? Cause I would really like some un-drugged food. I prefer to be awake, I don't care how much it hurts.' The woman laughed.
'You're only saying that because you know the worst is over. You don't have to pull that bravado with me, you're not a man.' Trieste sneered and looked at the woman with a cool eye.
'It's not bravado, and I think I'm well aware of what gender I am. No more drugs,' she restated firmly. If the woman was offended by Trieste's attitude, she didn't show it.
'There are no drugs in your food, and we'll be sure that none are added in the future. You can stay awake and keep your pain you're so proud of.' Trieste frowned again.
'It's not pride...and wouldn't you prefer to be conscious of what's going on around you?' The woman smiled gently and stepped closer to the bed.
'No, I would trust that the doctor knows what he is doing. We can all afford a break from reality in the care of others.'
'I can't. But if you'll excuse me, I'd like to feed myself in private.'
'Oh, of course. My name is Liana, by the way. What's yours?'
'I don't tell that to people.' Liana gave her an odd look.
'What, is it something very strange? You don't need to be embarrassed by it, you know.' Trieste just picked up her food tray and calmly began to eat.
'I prefer to not tell anyone it, that's all.' When it became apparent to Liana that Trieste wasn't going to talk, she shrugged and walked out, closing the door behind her. During her meal, Trieste contemplated her situation carefully and was quite annoyed that she honestly had to judge herself almost completely helpless in her situation. Annoyed, but also worried. She didn't know what the people were like, or if Legato would send his men after her. Nothing would have made Trieste happier before, but death was assured considering her position. She couldn't ride, there was no where to hide, and the family was obviously keeping an eye on her. 'GodDAMNit! How the hell am I going to get out here?'
*~*
