"Eliwood, don't!" Hector grabbed Eliwood by the shoulders, and swore violently. He tore strips off his cloak, and wrapped them around his wrist, and tied two more for tourniquets. Cursing to himself he grabbed Eliwood up, and started off towards camp. The rain as still falling, beating relentlessly on, and Hector cursed at it as well. How could he have been so stupid? Had he just not realized how deep Eliwood had fallen into depression? How the hell could he have missed it? How could he call himself Eliwood's friend when he had let him suffer, oblivious in his own worries about his brothers health, and their mission to defeat Nergal.
All those things took second place at the moment. Eliwood was dying, that was obvious. He hated Hector, but that didn't change the fact that Hector still thought of him as a friend. Now he had to get Eliwood back to camp, and snag a healer as fast as he could. He slipped, and righted himself carefully. He went on, not slacking in his pace. His mind had stopped wondering, and with each footstep his mind beat out a pattern. Don't die, Don't die....... Hector glanced down at Eliwood, and saw his lips were blue. He was shaking, and there was no surprise there. It was likely he had hypothermia from being out in the frigid rain with nothing to keep the rain off. His loss of blood probably wasn't helping matters either.
Nothing seemed to change about the dim surroundings, nothing seemed to change. He managed to keep half his mind on looking out for stray attacks, since there seemed to be so many that night, and keep his wit enough in line to look where he was going. He was sure camp was this way, but the rain was coming down harder, making it nearly impossible to see anything. If he got lost Eliwood would die, and it would be his fault. If he hadn't been so blind to what was happening..... Stop it, that's not going to help Eliwood, and it won't help you. The past is past, and you can't change it. You can only change the future! Hector snapped to himself.
Hector breathed a relieved sighed as he saw the first glimpse of their tents, and was delighted to find the first person he ran into was Serra. "Serra!" He yelled. Serra looked around, a cloak pulled tightly around her.
"Lord Hector, I was looking for you-" She began.
"Save it, do you have a staff with you?" He asked hurriedly, shifting Eliwood's nearly lifeless body in his arms.
Serra paled. "Is that Lord Eliwood?"
"Yes, now do you have a staff with you, or a vulenary for that matter?" Hector asked irritably.
"No, but the supply tent is over here." Serra squeaked, and dashed off. Hector followed her, his breath coming hard now. He followed her into the cluttered tent. She grabbed a mend staff, and Hector cleared a table with a swing of his arm. The swords, lances, and other weapons clattered loudly off. Hector grimaced, and dropped Eliwood gently on the table.
"Alright." Serra closed her eyes, concentrating. "Mend." The staff head glowed, and nothing happened for a few seconds. Hector was leaning against the table, his face shadowed with worry. Serra frowned, and cast the healing spell again. Eliwood still didn't stir.
"I think I did it." She said in a shaky voice. She untied the bandage from around one of his wrists, and looked at the red mark across it. "It'll scar, that's for sure."
Hector untied the other three pieces of cloth, and looked over Eliwood. He was still shaking, and his lips were blue."He looks like crap."
"What happened?" Serra asked carefully.
"We were attacked." Hector looked at the bishop carefully. She looked at Eliwood's wrist, and nodded.
"Of course, my liege." She sat down on the edge of the table. "Now, we need to get him out of these wet clothes, and that," Her voice regained its normal ring. "Is your job."
"Thanks." Hector couldn't help but smile a little. He had made it in time.
"You should know he still might not make it." Serra looked at Hector seriously. "He lost a lot of blood, and his body isn't in the best condition after all the strenuous travel we've been doing." Hector nodded, and looked to the red-haired lord lying on the table, his lips blue, his skin deathly pale.
He shook his head. "I'll take him to his tent, and get him into something dry."
"Good, the sooner the better." Serra agreed. "I'll be there in a second to give him something else." Hector picked Eliwood back up, and found the lord surprisingly light, even soaking wet, as he had when Eliwood had been injured before. He carried him to the tent he was supposed to be staying in, and lay him down carefully. No one was there, and Hector was glad they weren't. He was in no mood to explain what had happened.
He grabbed a dry pair of clothes from Eliwood's bag, and stripped the lord of his wet ones. Hector worked in silence, mulling over his thoughts. Eliwood was cold to the touch. He paused, looking over the numerous scars covering Eliwood's arms. Hector shook his head, and grabbed a blanket. he tossed it over Eliwood, and two more from the other beds. He jumped, and whipped around, his axe ready, when someone burst into the tent.
"Lord Hector." It was Marcus. Hector sheepishly put his axe down, and grabbed the last blanket. "Lady Serra said that you'd found Lord Eliwood."
Hector sighed irritably. He should have known Serra would have told someone, but Marcus would have been worried. Hector looked at Marcus thoughtfully, had the paladin noticed something strange in Eliwood's behavior before they left Pheare? "Yes I found Eliwood." Hector spread the last blanket over Eliwood, and studied his work. Eliwood was shaking again, and that was a good sign.
"You were attacked." Marcus said. Hector nodded.
"Marcus, go tell everyone they can stop looking for him." Marcus nodded, and cast Eliwood a worried look before heading out. "I hope you know how much trouble you've caused." Hector told Eliwood. The lord didn't make a response, but Hector grinned slightly. He couldn't find anything humorous about the situation, but it seemed ironic. No one would have though Eliwood would have been able to hate someone other then the people who did him a wrong, and here he was, lying at Death's door because he tried to commit suicide. Hector sighed, and sat down wearily. He was now realizing how tired he was.
"I'm ba--ack!" Serra came in, carry a vial, and a few vulenarys. Lowen followed her, carrying a blanket full of something. "Oh good, you finished your job. Lowen, put that down on that bed, and I'll put them where I want them." She waved her hand at the bad across from Eliwood's. Lowen set the blanket down, and looked at Eliwood anxiously. Serra grabbed a heated rock from the blanket, and began placing them beside Eliwood under the blankets. She refused any offers of help, and went studiously about her work. After the stones were in placed she picked up the crystal vial she had set down, and carefully tipped it into Eliwood's mouth. After some work she got him to swallow with out choking, and flopped down on the bed across from Eliwood.
"Few! That's done." She yawned, and stretched. Lowen glanced nervously from the cleric, to Hector, then Eliwood, and back again.
"I don't know how well off he is." Hector told Lowen. Lowen nodded, and Matthew came in, Marcus right after him.
"Very sorry Lord Hector." Matthew walked to his bed, and flopped down, beginning whatever he had been torn away from by the search for Eliwood. Marcus stopped, and looked at Eliwood carefully.
"Will you three stop moping around my patient!" Serra jumped up, and shooed them away from the lord. "He's not going to get any better with you hovering over him, so go sit down." She huffed, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Honestly, men get so queer when someone brushes with Death and doesn't bounce back smiling."
"So he'll live?" Hector asked optimistically.
"I didn't say that, but he's much closer to living then he was. The next few days will tell." Serra tapped her chin, and frowned at the gloomy men. "If all you're going to do is mope, then go out! Healing needs a happy air, and none of you are helping."
"Sister Serra, good, I found you." Lucius pushed into the tent, and bowed respectfully to Hector. "Good evening Lord Hector, Sister Serra, you wanted to ask me something?"
"Yes brother Lucius." Serra smiled charmingly at her fellow bishop, and hopped over to Eliwood's side. "Lord Eliwood was gravely injured in an attack, and I wanted your advice on treating him." Lucius leaned over the bed by Serra, and bit his lip.
"As soon as he has warmed up we should take him to the medical tent." Lucius suggested, and pressed a hand to Eliwood's forehead. He shook his head, and slid a hand under the blankets, checking the warmth of the stones. "Sir Lowen, would you go get some more warmed stones; Sir Sain have some ready." Lucius spoke in his usual meek manner, and Lowen nodded hurriedly before hurrying to his task. Lucius stood up, nibbling on his lower lip while he thought. He shook his head.
"Brother Lucius," Serra tugged on Lucius's sleeve. She whispered something very quietly, and Lucius bowed his head. Hector thought he saw his lips moving in a silent prayer. He looked up at Hector, and gave him a slightly sympathetic look. Hector frowned slightly, and crossed his arms over his chest. Lucius smiled slightly, and looked back to Eliwood.
Hector shook his head, and sat down on the bed across from Eliwood. He pushed the vulenarys away from himself, and winced. His near panic had made him forget his own injuries, and now he could feel them nettling for attention. He hissed, and rubbed his aching head.
"Lord Hector, are you injured?" Serra asked in an annoying pitched voice.
"I'm fine." Hector grumbled. "Just stop piping in my ear, and my head won't split." Serra huffed, and grabbed her staff from where it lay beside Hector.
"Heal." She commanded, touching the orb to Hector's shoulder. A warm tingling spread from his shoulder, and washed quickly all over his body. For a moment his body was numbingly warm, the aches, and pains slowly fading. Hector shivered as he felt a small cut on his cheek heal up, leaving not a scar in its place.
"There, you should have said something." Serra crossed her arms over her chest, and looked at him pertly. "It wouldn't have done us no good. Lord Eliwood would have been the one fretting over your sick bed instead of you over his." She giggled, supposedly amused over the though, and Hector rolled his eyes. He looked to the pale red-head, and frowned. "I hate you..." No, Eliwood wouldn't be fretting over Hector's sick bed, and, Hector got the sinking feeling that he wouldn't ever.
A/N: Owie....The chapters are so short they hurt. Yeah for reviewers! Thanks, and please review for this short chapter, the next will be much longer. I hope.....