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Lady Hawk

Chapter 4

By LadyHawk225

It was dark, several small candles and the fire from the hearth were all the light that bathed the pained warrior and chased the darkness from his body. He groaned, twisting and turning in the bed, thrashing his head back and forth as pain racked his body and fever tormented his mind.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bathing his forehead with a cool cloth, dipped in healing herbs and ointments. Her brow was furrowed in worry—his fever had broken out in full force a little over an hour ago, and had been raging against his injured body ever since.

He whimpered, and she wiped his sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead, murmuring soothing words and humming a soft tune to calm him. His fists curled in the blankets and he gasped in his sleep, wounds jarred and paining him. She held his shoulders steady, trying to keep him still, but his fevered brain was causing him nightmares.

He groaned and settled down a bit, and she sighed, standing from the bed and stretching.

In the corner, Seragil cocked his head, crooning at her softly as he rustled his feathers and hoped from foot to foot on his perch, restlessly.

"All right, all right." She murmured, setting down her bowl of water and herbs and the rag she used to wipe the warriors' brow. Walking to the large shelve near the corner, she plucked a box from the array of jars and bags, boxes and clutter held there. Reaching in, she plucked a dead mouse from within the box and tossed it to the hawk in the corner.

Seragil caught the creature deftly in his beak, gulping it down in one swallow. Replacing the box, she walked to the hearth and pulled the steaming kettle off the fire. Pouring herself a cup of tea, she returned to the bed, watching the blue-haired man.

He was very handsome, even with the bruises and cuts marring his complexion. His hair was dirty and at places caked with blood and mud, and she decided to clean it. Sipping her tea, she poured more hot water into a bowl and took up a fresh cloth, sitting at the bed again and began gently cleaning the blood from his hair. He murmured in his sleep, and she smiled.

"Please…"

She frowned. What was he dreaming about?

"Please…let me…"
She leaned closer, trying to hear what he was mumbling about, curious.

"Please….just…..let me die…"

She sat up in shock. What was wrong with him? Why did he wish so much for death? Even as he rested, his fevered mind replayed what she could only assume were his thoughts as he tried to commit suicide. Why did he want to die?

Frowning, she continued cleaning his hair, listening to him murmur his wish for death. After a time, his fevered ranting turned to other things and she listened harder, determined to learn something about her mysterious guest.

"…stop…stop him….must save…"

She shook her head. What was he talking about?

"Talpa….guys, please…coming …."

Talpa? Who was this Talpa? She was confused, his ranting was making less and less sense. She suddenly felt badly, like she was intruding on his private thoughts. Shaking her head, she decided to stop listening to his words, and instead concentrate on healing him quickly.

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Rowen groaned as he slowly became conscious. He felt like a truck had hit him. Someone was bathing his head with a cool cloth and humming a soft song nearby. He turned slightly towards the sound.

"You're awake, excellent. Your fever has broken and you will recover quickly now." She murmured.

"Ugh, I don't feel well…" Rowen moaned. He felt nauseous, and weak, besides the ever-present dull throb of pain coming from what seemed like every part of his body.

"That will pass."

"When will my eyesight return?"

"I don't know."

Rowen frowned.

"You mean you don't know IF it will return."

"I don't know."

"Why not!" Rowen snapped. He knew he was being irrational, but he just couldn't take it anymore. Everything hurt, he was sick, he was blind and he had no idea who this woman was.

"Shhhhh…" She tried to sooth him.

"Don't 'shh' me! Look, I want some answers, who are you! Where am I!" He bellowed. The strain caused him to cough, and he gasped in pain. Tears coursed down his face as he gasped, furious at himself, furious at the situation and his weakness, furious that he hadn't died.

"Why did you save me!" He gasped, choking on his tears he continued bull-headedly. "No one asked you to! You should have just let me die!"

He was sobbing now, unable to control his frustration and pain, he wanted to move, wanted to see… that was what frightened him the most—he couldn't see, and he was afraid he never would again.

Sitting up was a groan, he flung the blankets off him, ignoring the pain. Growling, he painfully swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Stop! You'll not healed yet! You'll hurt yourself!" She cried, but backed away at the fierce scowl on his face.

"Leave me alone, I'm FINE!" He growled, standing.

Pain bloomed furiously in his legs and hips and he cried out. His knees buckled and he fell. He screamed as his already bruised and broken legs contacted painfully with the hard floor. She was there in an instant, holding him up by the shoulders, but he pushed her away. Having lost his balance he fell, as any strength he had gained from his frustration and anger left him abruptly, and he landed face-first on the cold dirt floor. He cried into the dirt, pain racing through his veins. The movement sent more waves of nausea through him and he gagged, throwing up on the floor in front of him. Crying desperately, he tried to raise a hand to his face to wipe his mouth but he couldn't move his right arm, and pain shot through his shoulders as he lay there. Sobbing with pain and frustration, he braced his left elbow on the ground and tried to lever himself up, but pain shot through his shoulder again and he gasped, crying fitfully, as he finally lay still, unable to move or see.

Frustrated, she left him there for a moment and went to the hearth to gather her healing herbs and ointments. Gathering her things, she could hear him sobbing on the floor behind her and she ignored him. She allowed her anger to blossom. How could he be so childish? So selfish? After she had gone to all the trouble to clean him up, bandage his wounds and care for him, he rejects her? How DARE he?

She turned around, fully intent on giving him a piece of her mind, but she stopped. She stood a moment, watching him sob and groan as he lay on the floor, dirty, blood seeping through bandages and the contents on his nearly-empty stomach strewn out on the floor before him. He looked pathetic, weak. And she pitied him.

She sighed, and decided to let him lay here and cry himself out before helping him up and into the bed again. Walking over to Seragil, she stroked his feathers slowly as she listened to his sobs dwindle down into sniffles and his moans become more of pain than of frustration.

Turning, she watched as he again tried to get up, but he failed, crying out again as he fell. Sighing, she walked towards him again, her eyes now soft and sad. She would not let him give up so easily.

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Rowen slowly came out of his blind rage and he cried, angry with himself now for how he had acted. He lay on the floor, still sobbing. He couldn't seem to stop. Slowly, he began to get control of himself again and he stopped crying, trying to stand again. He cried out in pain and fell. He felt so helpless and weak, and he hated himself in that moment. Suddenly, he felt gentle hands helping him sit up.

"I—I thought you had left…" He groaned as she lifted him into a sitting position. He was shocked that she had stayed, even though he had yelled and screamed at her.

"No."

He nodded. She was angry with him—but then, he would be too if he were her.

She slowly helped him get up, her arms wrapped around his torso tightly. The pressure of her weight on his wounds hurt badly, but he wouldn't refuse her help again. He sighed in relief as she slowly lowered him onto the soft bed, pulling his legs up under the covers gently.

"Thank you." He murmured, sighing.

He heard her sigh again.

"I told you that you shouldn't get up. Now I'll have to re-stitch several of your wounds and apply fresh bandages and medicine to your injuries." She scolded lightly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, ashamed.

"It's alright. You're under a lot of stress at the moment."

"No…" He murmured as she began taking the soiled bandages off his legs. "It's not alright. I'm sorry I said such horrible things to you—that was way out of line. I really am very grateful for all you've done for me…I guess I just snapped. I don't know, I really don't have an excuse, please forgive me." He frowned, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to leak out of his blinded eyes.

He jumped slightly when her hands came back to his face, combing back his hair, lovingly.

"I forgive you."

He broke then, nodding silently as he choked on a sob. She gathered him in her arms and rocked him gently back and forth, whispering soothing words in his ears as he sobbed against her. She shed a few tears as well, happy that he had come back to her, and sad that he was in such pain. She wished she could stay like this with him for hours, holding him, comforting him as he cried.

Eventually, his sobs subsided and she smiled gently as he fell asleep in he arms, exhausted from his ordeal. Laying him back down, she went to work, cleaning his wounds and applying fresh bandages—working through the next several hours to restore her mysterious warrior back to health.