Smell

She had long believed that anything which smelled foul prefaced terrible or unhealthy things. If the wind of the plains she so loved bore a distasteful scent, the weather would predictably change for the worst. Meat, when rancid, diseased, or otherwise generally unfit for eating, radiated an odor that could make the very air writhe with disgust. People, even, described feelings of unease or foreboding as having a peculiar smell.

Ergo, and with such things in mind, there was no way she was going to ingest the dread concoction held before her.

She frowned, and narrowed her eyes, looking first at the drink and then to the person presenting it. "I will not drink such a thing." She firmly held eye contact for a while, before losing the battle of wills, looking to the side, and muttering, "Besides, why can't you just cure the ailment with your staff?"

Serra pursed her lips and huffed, shaking her head, "Lady Lyn, the damage is internal. Staves will only cure external or exposed wounds. Things you can see. This," She gestured with the simple cup in her hand, "is necessary to restore the damages inside you. If you do not take it, due to the nature of the attack that befell you, you will eventually become catastrophically worse, beyond what any of us are capable of curing." She bit her cheek. Admitting her incapability to perform any task of healing was not something she accepted easily.

Lyndis chose not to respond, merely kneading the hem of the blanket with her fingers and ruminating on the event that put her in the predicament. She didn't remember it all, but then, intense, searing pain tended to warp one's memories anyway. She had thrown herself into the path of the attack, she could recall that. Why had she done it though? She had... she had been... trying to protect someone... Nils... and took the magical blow herself, and it had ripped its merry way to her core. She remembered wrapping her arms tightly around her midsection in vain hope that the gesture might alleviate some of the excruciating pain within, and that when it finally left, so had her energy. Her legs had then buckled beneath her, no longer able to sustain her weight; her memory blacked out shortly thereafter and her head struck the grass.

Serra took the opportunity in Lyndis's internal distraction to try and scoot her knees a little closer to the soft mat her patient was seated on, leaning forward with the cup ever so slightly. Lyndis noticed however, and leaned back into her propped-up pillow, glaring defensively and wrinkling her nose. As a result, Serra was beginning to get terribly frustrated. Honestly, who wouldn't want to get better? "You must take it, Lady Lyn."

Lyndis only leaned further away from the cup and tightened her lips together.

"At least tell me why, then, and perhaps I can do something about it."

Why? No, she couldn't tell her why. She already had enough social and cultural irregularities in comparison to everyone else. She did not need to make things more awkward or to invite inane and prying questions by adding another to the stack.

She remained silent.

Serra narrowed her eyes and exhaled harshly. She was done with this game. It was time she changed the rules of play a bit. Pushing herself off her knees and to her feet she remarked, "Fine, I see how it is." With her single available hand, she smoothed the front of her dress before spinning around and stepping through the flap of the tent, her pigtails swaying a little with her sharp movements and leaving Lyndis alone in the tent.

She wasn't sure what to expect when Serra left. She knew that, somehow, she had to be cured or else she would truly decline in health, and probably beyond all help. But every time she even though about that vile brew, she couldn't even consider consuming it at that point. In her temporary solitude she mused for a while on how she might be able to overcome this obstacle, what other options might be available to her. Eventually, she became aware that there were people outside her tent again, or approaching it, at least. She could tell one of them was Serra returned, but the other spoke too softly for her to identify.

They stood outside for a while, their walk finished but their conversation still going. It began to make her terribly anxious. Who was it? Had she brought Canas or Lucius and were they discussing a way to combine staves to fix her without need of the potion? Or perhaps she had wrangled some willing soul to hold her still while she was forcibly fed the thing? She fussed with the blanket hem more, scenarios stacking up in her mind with every second of waiting. Eventually she was rewarded with the sound of someone pulling the tent flap back and ducking inside.

No.

No No. That wasn't fair. She wasn't allowed to bring him in.

That was cheating.

She scooted down under the blanket a little and tried to press herself into the pillow a little bit more while he knelt next to her, setting the familiar cup beside him and remaining still ever formal. She'd told him time and time again he did not have to be, and yet he did not change. She fidgeted for a while in the silence between them, not daring to look up. He would not allow himself to say so, but she knew he was worried, and she would be able to see it in his eyes. And then she would feel like a child having a tantrum, causing unnecessary problems.

Eventually she could no longer take it and mumbled, "Kent..."

He spoke levelly, tapping the rim of the cup, "Serra tells me you will not drink the elixir."

She let the question hang for a moment before conceding, "I will not," and daring to tilt her head a little and chance a glance in his direction.

"Do you not believe that it will help?"

She shifted her shoulders. His question and expression both reflected sincerity. "...No." She muttered, unsure even if he could hear her, or properly interpret her response.

"Then, do you not trust that it is safe?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it and tucked down a little more, drawing her blanketed knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. That was not... entirely true, nor entirely untrue.

"Lady Lyndis...?"

She still didn't answer. She chanced another look in his direction, and the hairs at the back of her neck rose with worry and anxiety as she saw him tilt the vile thing to his own lips and take a sip. She watched him for a while after he'd set the glass back down, almost completely convinced something was going to happen. He might become ill himself, change colors, get spots, pass out... Something so foul had to have severe repercussions. It did. She knew it did. it always did.

And yet... he still sat there, unchanged in form or expression, watching her back.

He didn't change.

He didn't change.

He didn't--"Lady Lyndis."

She was startled out of her intense observation, finally blinking and accidentally allowing herself to look up at him more fully.

He leaned forward a little, holding the cup towards her, his expression entreating her to take it, "Elixirs of this potency are hard to come by, Lady Lyndis."

Too close! She wrinkled her nose with disgust and nearly recoiled away from from the proffered potion. "Then perhaps they should not make it smell like a cow's second breakfast!" She shouted before being able to catch herself and reign the outburst in. It was too late now though, and she hunkered a little, rolling her lips between her teeth, unsure of how such information would be taken.

Kent simply leaned back (taking the dread thing out of direct range of her sense of smell) and tilted his head ever so slightly, "Then... your refusal concerns how it smells?"

It sounded... so... so stupid when spoken aloud.

She fisted the blanket in her lap, looking away and mumbling bitterly, "You probably think me foolish."

"No, of course not."

She whipped her head back around to search his face for hidden feelings or deception only to find that he was pushing himself to his feet. Her heart constricted with worry, and she looked up and down him several times, "Kent? Where are you going?"

Picking up the cup, he replied simply, "I will return shortly, Lady Lyndis," before inclining his head in to her and disappearing out the tent.

Again, she was left alone, but for that, this time, her heart beat forcefully against the inside of her chest. He knew why she wouldn't take it, he had the dread knowledge, but what was he going to do with it? Was his job done? Was he taking the information of her outburst to Serra where it would likely spread from her to everyone else in a matter of hours (or minutes)?

She twisted the blanket in her hands before lowering her head to her knees. As fast as he said he would return, it was neither too soon, nor late enough.

And when he finally did return, ducking back through the flap, she could very well have been driven mad by her racing thoughts and wild guesstimates of what had occurred beyond the presently boxed little world of her tent.

"Where did- You didn't-"

She swallowed as she watched him seat himself next to her again, and set the cup beside him, while he held another and stirred it. Her inquiries were lost to curiosity. A second cup? She reached out and snatched the one which had previously help the elixir. Peering inside she found in empty, save a few lingering droplets (and a foul smell). Her inspection was interrupted when the new cup was presented to her.

She looked at it, and then to her trusted knight and friend holding it out, and then back to the cup again. She swallowed and shook her head a little, leaning away from it. And, again, she watched him raise it to his lips and take another sip.

He held the cup out to her again.

He didn't change.

Hesitantly she reached forward to it. He had never yet presented her with something that was detrimental to her well-being...

He waited patiently for her to fully take the cup of her own accord before letting it go completely, but even then, she sat and stared at it for a while. She had watched him drink it, twice even, and nothing had yet happened. But... he added something the second time, stirred it in. Perhaps whatever he had added had negated the effects of the first sip? Effects he had so cleverly concealed from her. She mused over the cup and it's contents, her thoughts boiling around various hypotheses.

Eventually, she arrived at a suitable one and, wincing, tilted it back for a few rapid swallows. Almost immediately she could feel the mixture start to slowly restore strength she had forgotten she'd lost and to soothe pains she didn't know she had.

Kent nodded approvingly as she continued to down the rest of the elixir, returning to his feet as she finished it and sucked some of the odd taste from her mouth with smacking sounds. "Are you feeling better, now, Lady Lyndis?"

"I..." she held back a little. Regardless of the circumstances, it still felt as if she had been simply stubborn and foolish. "...Yes," she relinquished.

He nodded again, "Then, please, Lady Lyndis, get some rest. I will return again later."

She acquiesced with a nod, looking down at her lap. Before he left, however, she rotated the cup in her hand and called out to him, "Kent... what did you put in it?"

He stopped and turned to her, a ghost of a smile flickering across his features, "Nothing, Lady Lyndis."

Startled, she looked down at the cup in her hand and twisted it around several times, inspecting it for telltale signs of another substance. Dissatisfied, she peered inside it until she was hit with the familiar wave of nasty smells. Horrified, she dropped the cup and let it fall and roll away.

She had...

She had...

She looked up to demand what was going on, but her faithful knight had already left.

Oh...she was going to have words with him...

...x...

Fin.