A/N: Thanks for the reviews, duckies. On to the chapter! I think Danica's mum is a bit OCC, but whatever.

Disclaimer: Zane (and the rest of his posse yes, I just said 'posse') wasn't given to me for the holidays, so, at the moment, I don't own Hawksong.

Last time: I sang to him until a sharp rap on my door caught my attention and my mother's voice rang, anger coloring her tone, "Shardae!"

I gulped and bit back an unladylike curse. It was foolish of me to think that my half-threat would of kept them from telling my mother that I brought the serpiente prince into Hawk's Keep.

I wasn't finished sewing up the wound, and I deliberated for a moment. Gregory was in obvious pain, tensed up, and leaving it until later wouldn't be best. On the other hand, if I were to speak to my mother for a moment, I would be able to tell her that I was doing this no matter what, and to get something from Betsy for the pain. No, that wouldn't work, I would simply be ordered to kill him, and the Tuuli Thea's orders were always heeded. And what would avian healing do to him? I wasn't sure, and I had already expended a good amount of effort to keep him alive; I didn't want to poison him now.

Still hesitating, my mother called again. "Shardae!" her voice was unemotional now, only the slightest bit of rush in it. "Open this door!" She had the keys; soon she would be bursting in and the guards would be killing Gregory.

I found it interesting that I couldn't let that happen. After all the serpiente had done to my family, I couldn't let one of their surviving princes die. It wouldn't be my fault if he did or had; he would of been doomed from the battlefield.

Gregory winced on my lap, and I felt a wave of remorse. He wasn't a serpiente now; he was a fallen solider, and I would help him.

I let him off my lap easily, then went to the door. I called through the wood, "I am here, but I won't come out. At least, not for a few more days. He's-" I wasn't sure if my mother was informed that it was one of the serpiente princes himself, so I didn't want to push it "-far too hurt to do any harm to me." "Danica," my mother replied, her tone not at all pleased, "Do not act like a little chick, bursting into your room and slamming the door. Let us in and let him out!"

I had no choice in this; her authority rang in every syllable. What could appeal to her? What could make her understand? Nothing. That much I knew. Even I didn't know why I was so bent on saving this enemy heir.

"Mother," I said more quietly. "He is hurt, and if we save him, that could very well be a cause for peace! He wouldn't forget who saved his life, he wouldn't-"

She cut me off. "Shardae, they are serpents! They don't care for peace! Now let us in!"

I unbolted the door and then opened it a crack. "Mother, please." I said. "He is another brother, another son, dying."

I saw what I had seen at every funeral; a flash of pain and then the smooth avian mask. She deliberated for a moment, then said, "Three days, Danica. Three days and then he is gone." And with that, she turned on her heel and glided out of the hallway.

I shut the door again, tending back to Gregory. The cut was halfway sewed shut, and my crude stitches did little for the pain. I tried to make them tighter, closer together, singing gently as I leaned over him, concentrating on making every stitch as perfect as I could.

He was drifting in and out of sleep by the time I was finished, and I supposed that was all right now. He wouldn't die from blood loss, not anymore. I debated if to put him in a clean shirt or not. I decided against it. I doubted I had anything that would fit him, and the changing of his shirt may hurt him even more.

That reminded me; my shirt was covered in his blood. I let him down gently (he was breathing softly and my worries that he would slip into a coma and die were gone) and got up, my bare feet touching the cold floor silently. I pulled a clean tunic over my head as quickly as possible without making any noise, then went back to my bed.

His face was peaceful, though he was still tensed. The pain was still there, then. I moved him over so his feet weren't dangling off the side, then pulled a blanket over him. I didn't know how hot or cold serpents were supposed to be, but I figured it wouldn't hurt.

I leaned against the wall, watching his face intentlyfor any sign of distress, deciding I would call for some soothing potions if so. He seemed fine for someone who had just been stabbed in the stomach a few hours ago.

Night came and went; I saw the sun filter through my balcony to tell me it was a new morning and still he slept. I started to fret; was this good for him? He moved his head every once in a while, as if looking for something, so I didn't think he was in a coma. I didn't want to leave, in case he woke up, but I had to get him food. I got up, my legs stiff, and walked into the hallway, where Rei and Karl were standing guard, at the ready for my scream.

"Karl?" I asked him.

He looked at me. "Shardae?" he said respectfully.

"Please ask a servant to get some type of broth or something; anything healthy, really, from Betsy." He nodded and was off; to tell the servant himself, I suppose.

Rei looked at me, then said, "Danica, why are you doing this?" His voice was cool, but I could tell he was disgusted I would help a serpiente.

"He has family too," I stated softly, then said, a bit louder, "He still hasn't waken up, but I do think he'll survive."

Rei's face stayed blank, but I knew him well enough to know that he would rather Gregory died.

I turned and went back into my room, the door shutting automatically behind me. Weighted hinges were nice, I decided.

I curled up into my last position, seeing gladly that Gregory had not woken up yet. But what would happen when he did? Would he be thankful I saved his life, or would he of rather died in battle then be helped by a hawk? Would he try to kill me the instant he saw me, or would he be grateful towards me?

I didn't have an answer to what he would do, but it looked like I would need it soon, since he was waking up. His eyelids fluttered, then his garnet eyes were revealed. They were unfocused at first, taking in his surroundings, I'm sure, but then they focused on something; me, leaning over him to see how he was.

I couldn't help it, the sight of his eyes made me recoil. It didn't chill me to the bone, as it might of under different circumstances, but it was enough to make me flinch. "Are you all right?" I asked him, worried both that if I didn't say something, he'd assume I was going to kill him and then kill me first, and that he wasn't, that there was something else I missed.

"Danica Shardae," he stated, his voice raspy from sleep and the wound.

Muwahaha. Review, my dears, and Happy Holidays! Since I got four reviews for my first chappie, I'm going to just post the next one without waiting for my normally mandatory two reviews. But do it anyway, or else I'll leave a HUUUUGE cliffie next chappie, and we don't want that now, do we? -evil laugh goes here-