Cloud saw them first, from her dozing position by the house. A crazed-
looking horse, with someone she knew on her back, came tearing in,
collapsed and turned into her Daine, bloody and dead looking. Panicked,
Cloud neighed loudly, asking help. She cantered over, worried, and thought
enough to carefully pull the cloak off of Damae and barely cover Daine's
naked body-limbs and arrows still stuck out, but at least she was protected
from the vision of men. She had just finished that when a noise at the
doorway of the cottage alerted her. She swung her head around with pricked
ears and saw two men standing in the doorway, one leaning on the other and
both looking terror-stricken.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Numair, leaning on Medaio, saw his Daine lying on the ground, dead. He let go of the other man's shoulder, and, still ashen-faced, managed to stumble over to where she was. He fell on his knees beside her and sobbed out,
"Daine!" in a choked voice. He shook her shoulder, tears running down his cheeks, but to no avail. She wouldn't wake up. Panicking, he looked past her death-white face and saw the two arrows that stuck out of her body like marks of her death-one out of her side and one out of her other shoulder. He also saw the blood that stained her cloak and ran across her flesh, and the sweat that wet the rest of it. Her lips were parted as if breathing hard and her hair was tangled and matted.
"Daine," he whispered. It couldn't be true. She couldn't be dead. Not his Daine, not his love, not her. She had almost died before, and pulled through. She wouldn't die now. It couldn't happen, it wasn't possible.
It was possible. She was dead. He didn't know how or why, he didn't care. But his love, his magelet, his sweetling, would never come back to him. He could never hold her again, never see her bright smile, never kiss her or laugh with her. Heartbroken, he hugged her lifeless form to him and sobbed with pain, worse pain than he had ever felt before, pain that came from his heart and surged through every vein he had to fill him with agony and self- reproach. It was his fault, he had told her to go alone, he hadn't been there for her.
"Daine! Come back, please, come back to me, I need you, I love you.please," He whispered the last word in a voice broken and choked, and then softly kissed her sweet, rosy lips, the same ones that had kissed him back so many times, squeezing and holding her as if he thought that it could bring her back.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Daine, from the dark, oblivious abyss she was falling into, felt something feather-light that seemed to call to her, a pleasure that she had almost forgotten, a feeling she could barely remember as she became oblivious to all around her as she died. She let herself go thankfully, but the ghost of the something that she felt made a small tug on her heart, the heart that had almost burst in exhaustion. And suddenly she remembered. Numair. He must be kissing her, she couldn't leave him alone, he needed her and she needed him. True, she was dying, a fraction from being fully dead, but she could try. Daine began to fight; she fought the black oblivion that no longer felt peaceful, but hostile. She fought, with all her feeble, exhausted strength, for her love. She would try to live for him.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
When Numair pulled away and looked again into her face, he saw a miracle. One of her eyelids fluttered gently, unmistakably. Could she still be alive? Could she live? His heart leaped and almost healed its cracked pieces together.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"MEDAIO!" The man, who had been anxiously checking on Damae, who was unconscious due to blood loss but still alive, and not likely to die, looked up. He had given Numair room and avoided him in his grief, ready to help when needed. Now he almost flew to the older man's side.
"She might live," he said, voice choked, hoarse, and exited, "she could, her eyelid moved, I saw it! She's not dead! She can live, can't she?" And he looked up with such a child-like look of anxiety and fear needing reassurance that it touched Medaio again, how deep his love for Daine was.
Placing his hands on the shoulders that were still in Numair's grasp, Medaio summoned all his healing power and found the last, struggling, miniscule bit of white fire that was trying to come back but fading rapidly all the same. Medaio grasped the Daine that was practically dead, and, with his whole mind, pulled her back to the land of the living. As soon as her core became bright enough to show that she was alive, he pulled back and opened his eyes, to behold a sight that was engraved upon his memory forever.
Numair, kneeling, arms wrapped around and propping up his Daine, who was breathing so softly and so shallowly that she was almost not breathing at all. He was bent over her, his head above her turned up face, and tears were slowly but steadily dripping down and running over the chin that was usually so confident and now so afraid. They were tears of joy, tears of gratitude. He was watching her breathe with the most exquisite joy in the world.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Numair felt that strength was coming back to him at the revival of his Daine. He could hardly believe it, she wasn't dead, she could live, and she could come back and join him. He would be able to hug her again, live with her, love and cry and laugh with her. He was filled with beautiful rapture that filled him as he held on to the most precious thing that life could offer him. Standing, he lifted her as he had done so many times before, only it seemed new, because she was back, she wouldn't leave him, she would stay. Walking with only a slight stumble into the cottage, Numair lay his Daine down on the bed, fell onto his knees beside her, grasped her hand, and cried with joy and pain relieved.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Medaio's joy at Daine's life was unbounded, but he still felt anxiety for his love. Damae would live, he was sure, but her wound was bad, and he would have to take care of it. Giving Numair his privacy for a moment, Medaio fell to taking care of Damae before he went in and saw to Daine.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Numair, leaning on Medaio, saw his Daine lying on the ground, dead. He let go of the other man's shoulder, and, still ashen-faced, managed to stumble over to where she was. He fell on his knees beside her and sobbed out,
"Daine!" in a choked voice. He shook her shoulder, tears running down his cheeks, but to no avail. She wouldn't wake up. Panicking, he looked past her death-white face and saw the two arrows that stuck out of her body like marks of her death-one out of her side and one out of her other shoulder. He also saw the blood that stained her cloak and ran across her flesh, and the sweat that wet the rest of it. Her lips were parted as if breathing hard and her hair was tangled and matted.
"Daine," he whispered. It couldn't be true. She couldn't be dead. Not his Daine, not his love, not her. She had almost died before, and pulled through. She wouldn't die now. It couldn't happen, it wasn't possible.
It was possible. She was dead. He didn't know how or why, he didn't care. But his love, his magelet, his sweetling, would never come back to him. He could never hold her again, never see her bright smile, never kiss her or laugh with her. Heartbroken, he hugged her lifeless form to him and sobbed with pain, worse pain than he had ever felt before, pain that came from his heart and surged through every vein he had to fill him with agony and self- reproach. It was his fault, he had told her to go alone, he hadn't been there for her.
"Daine! Come back, please, come back to me, I need you, I love you.please," He whispered the last word in a voice broken and choked, and then softly kissed her sweet, rosy lips, the same ones that had kissed him back so many times, squeezing and holding her as if he thought that it could bring her back.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Daine, from the dark, oblivious abyss she was falling into, felt something feather-light that seemed to call to her, a pleasure that she had almost forgotten, a feeling she could barely remember as she became oblivious to all around her as she died. She let herself go thankfully, but the ghost of the something that she felt made a small tug on her heart, the heart that had almost burst in exhaustion. And suddenly she remembered. Numair. He must be kissing her, she couldn't leave him alone, he needed her and she needed him. True, she was dying, a fraction from being fully dead, but she could try. Daine began to fight; she fought the black oblivion that no longer felt peaceful, but hostile. She fought, with all her feeble, exhausted strength, for her love. She would try to live for him.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
When Numair pulled away and looked again into her face, he saw a miracle. One of her eyelids fluttered gently, unmistakably. Could she still be alive? Could she live? His heart leaped and almost healed its cracked pieces together.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"MEDAIO!" The man, who had been anxiously checking on Damae, who was unconscious due to blood loss but still alive, and not likely to die, looked up. He had given Numair room and avoided him in his grief, ready to help when needed. Now he almost flew to the older man's side.
"She might live," he said, voice choked, hoarse, and exited, "she could, her eyelid moved, I saw it! She's not dead! She can live, can't she?" And he looked up with such a child-like look of anxiety and fear needing reassurance that it touched Medaio again, how deep his love for Daine was.
Placing his hands on the shoulders that were still in Numair's grasp, Medaio summoned all his healing power and found the last, struggling, miniscule bit of white fire that was trying to come back but fading rapidly all the same. Medaio grasped the Daine that was practically dead, and, with his whole mind, pulled her back to the land of the living. As soon as her core became bright enough to show that she was alive, he pulled back and opened his eyes, to behold a sight that was engraved upon his memory forever.
Numair, kneeling, arms wrapped around and propping up his Daine, who was breathing so softly and so shallowly that she was almost not breathing at all. He was bent over her, his head above her turned up face, and tears were slowly but steadily dripping down and running over the chin that was usually so confident and now so afraid. They were tears of joy, tears of gratitude. He was watching her breathe with the most exquisite joy in the world.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Numair felt that strength was coming back to him at the revival of his Daine. He could hardly believe it, she wasn't dead, she could live, and she could come back and join him. He would be able to hug her again, live with her, love and cry and laugh with her. He was filled with beautiful rapture that filled him as he held on to the most precious thing that life could offer him. Standing, he lifted her as he had done so many times before, only it seemed new, because she was back, she wouldn't leave him, she would stay. Walking with only a slight stumble into the cottage, Numair lay his Daine down on the bed, fell onto his knees beside her, grasped her hand, and cried with joy and pain relieved.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Medaio's joy at Daine's life was unbounded, but he still felt anxiety for his love. Damae would live, he was sure, but her wound was bad, and he would have to take care of it. Giving Numair his privacy for a moment, Medaio fell to taking care of Damae before he went in and saw to Daine.