Alright… I decided to continue this story! I don't know how long I'm going to make it, but here's Chapter 2.
The cold, metal was pressing into Mel's neck, but not hard enough to draw blood. For the first time that night her eyes showed fear. Shevareth's breath was fast, the air blowing on Mel's face as his body pressed into hers. They glared into each other's eyes; neither making a move.
Slowly the sword rose from the deadly position and was drop to the stone bridge. However, Shevareth stayed on top of Mel. He couldn't risk the chance of her escaping, but he could never hurt her even if it was necessary.
"I need you to call you troops back," he demanded.
Seeing no way out of the situation, Mel nodded her head reluctantly. Carefully Shevareth lifted himself off of Mel. When standing, he placed his hand out trying to help Mel to her feet. Pushing the offered hand away, Mel hastily jumped up. Turning around, she saw her people were losing and losing badly. Seeing the weapon at her feet, she made a move for it. An arm snaked around her waist preventing her from grasping the blade.
"Call your troops back now," Shevareth grunted as he held on to a squirming Mel. She stopped fighting suddenly, giving in.
"Pull back," Mel screamed. The Tlanth soldier's faces turn towards hers. Seeing her captured they quickly retreated, back to the village of Tlanth. Mel watched helplessly as her only hope at rescue faded into the distance.
Peering around, Mel smirked at the sight. Her people had done more damage than she had original thought. Men were scattered across the bridge. Some were dead, but most were badly injured. The soldiers that were left standing, turned and waited for instructions from their commander.
"Help the injured and bury the dead. Once you're done, go and rest. You have done well tonight," Shevareth praised in a wary voice. He dropped his arm from around Mel's waist and grabbed her upper arm. Dragging her behind him, Shevareth made his way to the looming entry way.
"You should really get that arm checked out," Mel mumbled. "It looks like someone really got you good." A smile graced her lips as she saw the look on Shevareth's face; pure shame.
"At least I didn't get tackled," he shoot back at her.
"Yes, but who knew you would do that? I thought only children fought like that."
Frustrated, Shevareth jerked her hard causing her to stumble slightly. A shot of pain went up Mel's leg, as it bent the wrong way. A small whimper of pain escaped her lips. Shevareth stopped and looked back at Mel. If Mel was in the right state of mind, she might have thought his gray eyes looked concerned.
"Lean against me," he ordered.
"No, I don't need your help," Mel said stubbornly.
Although he was still clasping her arm, she tried to proceed forward on her own. Her feet moved a couple of steps before she collapsed gracelessly to the ground. The pain was so intense, she fought to stay conscious. After seconds of fighting, she lost the battle and dove into a complete blackness.
Careful to avoid her injuries, Shevareth leaned over and picked Mel up. He was worried that she was unconscious, but also was immensely glad. She never would have let him touch her, let alone carry her. He shifted her to the right side of his body because his wounded left arm couldn't bear her weight, however light she was.
Cautiously, he stumbled the two of them through the doorway. A pale man sat in the entry way holding his head in his hands. Hearing the soft click of the door opening and shutting, the boy sprung up quickly. So quickly in fact, the chair fell carelessly to the floor making a thunderous sound. Softly, Shevareth placed Mel on one of the comfortable, red couches.
"What happened to her?" he shot.
"I tried to explain, but she wouldn't listen to a word I said."
"Obviously you didn't try hard enough," the man yelled. "That's my sister."
"Bran, I asked her to surrender," Shevareth retorted.
"You knew she wouldn't surrender. Mel never quits," Bran roared.
"What was I supposed to do?"
"Stopped her," Bran resolved.
During their argument the two had inched closer to one another. They were in each other's faces shouting.
"She doesn't listen to a thing I say," Shevareth screeched.
"I don't care. You could have stopped her with force, you know you could have. Now look at her. She's unconscious!" Bran bellowed.
"Yeah, I'm sure she would have appreciated me physically pulling her into the castle in front of all your people," Shevareth snapped.
"You could have tried something!"
"No matter what I would have done, she never would have liked the outcome."
Breathing heavily the two stopped yelling. Shevareth was right. Mel wouldn't have been happy with any of the options. Bran ran a hand over his face and slumped against the wall, exhausted from the fight and the wound in his back.
"What should we do with her," Bran questioned Shevareth.
"I'm going to take her to one of the healers. Her leg needs to be cleaned and rewrapped."
"Alright, come get me when she wakes."
"I'll be there as soon as she up," Shevareth promised.
"Thanks, Vidanric," Bran said sincerely.
With a slight nod, Vidanric walked over the sleeping woman on the couch. He placed his hands under her back, and hoisted her into his arms. He carried her through the stone halls that were gently lit with candles. He turned a corner and a spiral staircase appeared in front of him. Rounding up all his strength, Vidanric began to walk up the steps. Half way to the top he had to take a breath, but he continued on.
Finally he reached the infirmary. Pushing open the door, he paced briskly to the closest bed. Tenderly, he placed Mel on the sheets. A strain of auburn hair fell into her face. Without thinking, Vidanric affectionately tucked the lock behind her ear.
"What has happened?" A small, plump lady hurried over to the side of the bed.
"Her leg needs to be clean," He replied, not answering her question.
"Your arm sir," she said concerned as she spotted the bloody wound.
"Her first," he whispered huskily.
"Yes, yes of course." The woman bustled about the room picking up water, leaves, and clean bandages.
The healer began to unwrap the bandage. The leaves underneath were completely soaked in blood. Tentatively, she peeled the leaves off of the extremely deep wound. She dipped a small cloth into the basin of water. Dabbing at the injury, Mel stirred. Vidanric glanced up hurriedly, but she was still vastly asleep. Once the gash was cleaned, the healer wrapped the clean bandage around Mel's leg.
"Now your turn, sir."
Sighing, Vidanric sat down and remove his shirt to give the healer a better look at the cut. She did the same thing to him that she had done to Mel; cleaned and bandaged. Once he was taken care of, he looked around and saw a small chair in the corner of the room. Strolling over he picked up the seat and walked it over to the bed.
He sat down and gazed up at the peaceful looking Mel. His eyes began to droop and his head lolled onto the bed as he went into a night of blissful dreams. Unknowingly his hand landed on top of Mel's.
Please review! I really would like to know what you think…