Adara lay, trembling at Dagonet's words. He had left her, to go and bring her some food, and Adara could scarcely believe this was happening. And yet it was, for the blankets around her bruised body were real, the dim light of the candle beside her bed was real; the clean bandages around her cuts were real.
And then there was Dagonet.
The knight that had both delivered her to hell, and delivered her from it. The knight that looked at her with a strangely respectful gaze and a mocking smile in his eyes. Adara sighed as she tried to sort her muddled brain. What was it about him that made her mind drift to him when it shouldn't?
Dagonet returned to find a shocked looking woman lying on the bed. He smiled inwardly, and sat down on the chair beside the bed, a bowl of warm stew in his hands. He offered it to her, but Adara looked at him with a dismayed look.
He saw her hands then. Broken, bruised and dislocated fingers, which Dagonet almost winced to look at. He looked at her steadily for a minute, and felt she understood what he needed to do.
"I'll have to put them back," he told her, and although Adara's eyes widened, she nodded and pulled herself up to a sitting position.
Dagonet wrapped his hands around her slender fingers, revolted at the pain he would have to cause the pale brave woman. Slowly he tightened his hold on the first finger, and with a snap it clinked back into position.
Adara almost cried out at the pain, but was too proud, too strong, to show fear in front of this man. And she felt like he respected her for it, for the look that he gave her was full of a strange calm that settled her racing heart.
Dagonet clicked the next finger back into position, and saw a tear run down the woman's face. This was joined by another, until by the time he snapped the last finger back tears were streaming down her face, although she uttered not a sound.
"Well done," he whispered gently to her, and felt her grip on his hands tighten slightly, as if seeking comfort.
Adara sat back, wiping her eyes fiercely, angry with herself for showing so much emotion.
Dagonet offered her the bowl of soup, and hunger overcame the pain in her fingers and she took it greedily.
Dagonet watched silently as she ate. He wanted to lean forwards and pull her close until all the pain was gone from her, and he saw a desperate plea in her eyes for comfort, but both of them were too strong, too proud to admit that they needed anyone, and so they watched each other, and wondered why the other had such a hold over them.
"What's your name?" he asked as she ate.
Adara paused for a minute, looking at him uncertainly, her spoon poised midway between her bowl and her mouth, balanced shakily on her hurting fingers. Was he trying to lead her into a trap? For all she knew they still may not know who the spy was and he could be trying to trick her into giving him information. But the calm, almost gentle look in his eye was anything but devious, and Adara needed to trust someone.
"Adara," she said softly.
"Adara," Dagonet tried the name out.
He took the bowl from her gently when she had finished and Adara lay back on her pillows, exhausted from the effort of eating.
"Rest," he told her, making as if to leave.
"No!" Adara cried out, leaping forwards and putting one hand on his arm. She blushed and looked down when she realised what she had done, but then looked up again, a fierce desperation in her eyes.
"Please," she begged. She looked down again, ashamed at what she was saying. "Please don't leave me. They may come back for me," she spoke quickly, as if to try and get rid of the words that wounded her pride. "Please, I…I'm scared," she said miserably, hanging her head in shame.
Dagonet hesitated for a moment. He should go and see Arthur: find out if they had caught the spy. And yet…she had pleaded for his help, when it evidently wounded her to have to beg for anything. She needed him. The thought was stronger in his mind. She needed him, and what would he be to let her down now? After all he had made her go through.
Dagonet settled back in his chair, and was immediately rewarded by a grateful if uncertain look from the fiercely proud Woad woman called Adara who had pleaded for his safety.
A/N – how d'you like it? I'm sure you can see the romance developing here. Or else I just can't write! Please, please review! You don't know how happy it makes me. It doesn't cost you anything more than a few seconds of your time, so please press that little review button and make me a very happy woman : )