Hello hello all! I am back again for another chapter of our gentle narrative between Ardeth and Elizabeth. We must tread lightly now, very quiet but important things are happening. Please do continue to let me know what you think; critique or praise or anything in between, even if it's just to check in. I love nothing more than to hear from those reading my work. Please do enjoy and stay safe out there.
That evening Elizabeth tended tirelessly to Ardeth's wounds as the sun burned itself through to nightfall. When everything was said and done, Ardeth was lucky. He had not gotten shot, only a couple dozen stitches to his temple and chest, two dislocated joints at his shoulder and knee—but alive he was. Elizabeth only hoped that he could fight the fever from the blood loss.
"Doctor Elizabeth," Tala said, shuffling into the tent with a fresh bowl of water and a bag full of supplies. "I've gathered all you've asked for."
"Thank you, Tala," Elizabeth took the bowl from her hands. Tala lit several more candles and the dark shadows were soon filled in all the corners of the tent with a glowing amber light. It gave Elizabeth a coherent visage to watch Ardeth's chest rise up and down—he was, for now, peacefully resting.
"How is he? The elders are asking."
"He is stable," Elizabeth cleaned her hands in the bowl of water, careful not to agitate her leg. It was throbbing with pain now but becoming more dull by the minute. Soon it would dwindle and she wouldn't feel much at all. "He dislocated two very important bones, it will take considerable time for them to heal."
"You can help him heal, yes?"
"Of course I can. If he wants it, that is." Elizabeth looked away from the narrowing eyes of Tala to Ardeth's closed ones. He looked so different, just in that moment—completely unlike Elizabeth remembered at all. Tired, weak even, but still strong. His silent form suspended. Elizabeth wondered if he was dreaming. If he was, what he was dreaming about.
"Elizabeth, may I be truthful?" Tala moved to sit closer to Elizabeth, taking gentle notice of the wound on her leg.
"Of course. I would never want you to feel like you couldn't tell me what is on your mind—"
"Elizabeth," Tala chuckled out gently and took a hold of Elizabeth's hands. She had forgotten how warm people here were, how they touched and calmed and connected to one another that way. Tala continued, "You were missed here very much. He will not be happy with what I am about to say but I do not care. No matter how much he hid it—no matter how much he insisted that he was fine, our Chieftain was not the same without you here. It was all very strange to me, you were here for such a short period of time yet your lasting memory wore such an effect on him."
Elizabeth kept her eyes at their joined hands, and shook her head. "I missed him…very much. I missed this place so much, and everyone in it."
Tala smiled and placed her hand on Elizabeth's cheek. "I missed you very much, my friend Elizabeth. I look forward to our early morning talks over tea once again. In Arabic now."
Elizabeth smiled, remembering the little tradition her and Tala had briefly before she left for Cairo. It seemed so simple, the small act of tea and conversation in the morning felt like nothing, but now felt exactly like home. Like everything.
"Now," Tala continued, "You fix up that leg of yours before we lose you again."
Elizabeth subconsciously tried to cover the wound but it had already been seen. So she nodded, rosy-cheeked, as Tala stood to leave.
"I will see you in the morning, Tala," Elizabeth said and watched the other woman leave and fasten the flaps of the tent behind her.
The wind howled gently and Elizabeth felt calm for the first time all day. Certainly her leg's cry of pain was loud enough but it was the first time she had been alone since she arrived. Well, save for Ardeth. But with him being relatively unconscious Elizabeth felt quite alone indeed.
With a huff Elizabeth started to cut open the linens around her leg and investigated her wound. It wasn't as pretty, nor as neat, of a wound as Elizabeth would have preferred, and she was going to have a right good time stitching herself up. But she could use the practice.
"Well, might as well get started."
Elizabeth soaked a wash cloth in the water and started to clean in and around the wound. Her movements were slow at first, cautious, before she began to grow impatient. With her hasty movements she suddenly broke open the wound once more.
"Damnit," she muttered and stretched to gather more gauze.
"Elizabeth?" She heard and for a moment thought that it was Ardeth but when she looked at him she discovered he was still sound asleep. "Hey, Elizabeth?"
"Abdal," Elizabeth sighed and looked at the tent entrance. "Come in."
Abdal shuffled in and sat down next to her as she continued to clean her wound, in his arms a basket of fruit and dried meats and water.
"How is your hand?" Elizabeth asked, grabbing an apple for herself. Abdal shrugged.
"It is okay. Doesn't look as bad as that though. Gross." Abdal said, pointing to her leg.
"This is nothing, I'll have it stitched in no time."
"Mmhmm," Abdal muttered mouth full, "How is Ardeth?"
"He is well. We will see tomorrow how mobile he is with his injuries—but I imagine he will be out of commission for several days, if not weeks."
Abdal tsk'd, "The elders will not be happy with that."
Elizabeth scoffed without thinking, "Well tell the elders had they fought along side you—then perhaps they would understand."
"Elizabeth!" Abdal snapped, shifting onto the rug beside her. "You cannot speak like that—you must respect the elders."
"I know," Elizabeth breathed out and ran her hands through her hair, "I know—I apologize, it has just been a rough day. I don't think I was prepared for all of this to happen." Elizabeth gestured to Ardeth and then her leg. Abdal nodded in understanding.
"You are okay then? After all of this?"
"Are you worried about me all of a sudden?" Elizabeth chuckled.
"Well, I thought I might try worrying about my friends for a change, how am I faring?"
Elizabeth smirked as she threaded the stitching needle with a squinted eye. "Could use a touch of sincerity," she said. "But I'm alright—everything considered. I'm glad I'm here."
Elizabeth guided the first stitch and tied it off when Abdal asked something that made her pause.
"Is your fiancé glad you are here?"
Her stomach dropped like the blow of a cannonball at the sudden and rushing thought. Mack. She had not thought of Mack since she had left him in Rome but knew assuredly he was not glad she was here. Elizabeth didn't even need to wonder to know that.
"I have not heard from him but…What do you think?" Elizabeth asked and continued her stitching in silence. The words from the letter she had left him started to burn through pockets of her memory, the note to be delivered with his breakfast that morning after she left;
I need time to think about us. I am sorry but please don't come looking for me. E.
It wasn't much of a letter, but with their last disagreement there wasn't much left to be interpreted. How could they continue with Elizabeth knowing how Mack thought of her throughout their relationship? That he had underestimated and undermined her abilities, her past, her everything when all was said and done? That his opinions on her friends, people she cared for and loved—were prejudiced in the most archaic of ways?
All that being said Elizabeth knew she would have to make amends at some point in the future, the loose end that it was, but it was a battle for another time.
In that moment Elizabeth recalled her original reasoning for staying in Egypt just after the war: because of men like Mack, because of prejudice and politics universally orbiting the idea that men, specifically white men, were superior to women and all other races combined. And then Elizabeth was reminded of Ardeth as he was back then; how quickly he trusted her, how earnestly he regarded her.
How he had looked at her the first time they met. Just the memory of that look brought about the same nervousness, the same reticence borne from the look of utter fascination and allure as though the day had never passed and Elizabeth was still there, under Ardeth's gaze for the first time.
"He was a strange man, your fiancé," Abdal remarked and Elizabeth could not help but chuckle as his statement brought her back out of her mind. Absently she tied off another stitch.
"He was English, Abdal. All English men are like that. Judgmental and selfish. Always have been—likely always will be." Elizabeth watched Abdal's eyes widen as he huffed out a breath. Elizabeth did not need to be a genius to understand Abdal's reaction. The cultural differences between the men in her life were as palpable as history itself. History could speak ions of reasons and occasions for clashes between the two cultures. Elizabeth was suspended in the middle.
"Is Ardeth asleep?"
Elizabeth looked between Ardeth and Abdal and offered a nod. "I believe so. Why?"
"If I were you, and this fiancé is no longer a fiancé—I would not mention it to Ardeth."
"Why not?"
"It would hurt him, I think," Abdal said honestly.
"Abdal I…" Elizabeth sucked in a breath and quickly worked through what he was saying, "I'm not planning on it being the first topic of conversation when he awakes, but I cannot lie to him. I would hope he would respect me for that, in the very least."
"Is it not your intention to win back his heart?"
Elizabeth spoke carefully, "I am under no illusion that things will be just like they used to be. I only want to help the Medjai. Of course I—I want to help Ardeth, to be around him again is…but…"
"But?"
"But I would be remiss to forget why I left in the first place."
"You left because you were sick, no?"
"I was sick, yes, but I—" Elizabeth stopped herself before she poured out her entire soul to her friend. "It is neither here nor there, Abdal. If you don't mind I would like to turn in for the night."
"Yes, of course." Abdal stood and bowed a farewell. "Have a good night, my friend."
"You as well." Elizabeth watched Abdal leave. She breathed out a moment before fishing for some gauze in her bag. When she produced it and started to wrap her leg, she watched Ardeth's chest slowly rise up and down, but his breath which earlier had been audible and shallow, was now absolutely silent.
Elizabeth knew what Ardeth sounded like when he was asleep, and she knew in that moment he had not been asleep at all.
Despite this Elizabeth remained silent and continued her stitching until she had finished. Her own wound would take considerable time to heal, given its location. Patience was the top contributor to proper healing—a trait she was never talented at nor fond of.
After wrapping up her leg Elizabeth started to shed a couple of layers of linen from her body. Even though the sun was not out, the temperature of the desert was as unforgiving as she remembered it; how could she forget the beads of sweat that dripped down her temples and snuck into all the crevasses of her body. It was a heat she missed, but one that would take time to get used to again.
Elizabeth took a washcloth and dabbed Ardeth's forehead. Her hand hesitated before gently sweeping a strand of hair out of his face. It was the first time she had touched him in a way that was not clinical all night. It was soft so she wouldn't wake him, if he was truly asleep, and satiated a need to be closer to him—the logical side of her mind told her she was a fool to even touch him in such a way. But her impulse hardly gave a damn.
Despite it all, the touch seemed to stir Ardeth awake, or at least encouraged him enough to open his eyes.
"Hello there," Elizabeth said softly and Ardeth breathed out, nodding gently though the movement pained him. "Would you like help sitting up?" She asked, watching Ardeth shift uncomfortably in his pallet. He nodded and she took hold of his robes to pull him up. But before he could sit up all the way Ardeth groaned out in pain. "What? What is it?"
"My—my back."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and ever more gently helped him sit up. When she looked at his back she saw bunched up linens from his robes, and on the blankets of his pallet was a deep dark red stain. Quickly investigating Elizabeth unwrapped his robes, careful not to harm him in any way and gasped when she saw it.
A deep and now gushing laceration sat between his shoulder blades.
"Ardeth, this is very deep." Elizabeth moved quickly to stop the blood. How could she have completely missed this wound? "It looks like it tried to fuze but tore itself back open."
Ardeth let out a gasp every time Elizabeth dabbed the blood away and now, more than before. His back twitched every time she touched him and his gasps felt like gunshots to her stomach.
"I'm so sorry," Elizabeth whispered as she grabbed her supplies; iodine, antiseptic, needle, and thread. She moved the bedside table with the candle on it so she could see his back and situated herself behind him. With her leg wound Elizabeth had to stretch her leg out completely. She was not unaware of the position she found herself in, straddling Ardeth's waist from behind—but she truly had no other choice.
"Is it bad?" Ardeth breathed out.
"It's not good, but it's nothing I've never seen before," Elizabeth said, gently giving his uninjured arm a squeeze. "This may be painful—I'm sorry."
His voice was quiet but steady, "It is okay, do what you must."
Elizabeth quickly applied the antiseptic to his wound and Ardeth hissed loudly, his hand grasping for whatever was closest to ground himself, which happened to be Elizabeth's bare knee. The touch, rough and sudden, gave Elizabeth a shock that rattled through her whole body but she kept going—adding the iodine and starting the first stitch with shaky hands.
As she continued Ardeth's grip on her leg loosened but never let go. She hated to admit that his hand on her, in even the slightest way like this, was enough to fog her mind instantly.
She attempted to find serenity in stitching his wound; it was a bad gash, one of the worst Elizabeth had ever seen and deep too. It would have to be a double stitch, one layer on the inside, one on the surface. She preferred not to do this stitch in particular because it usually required considerable healing time and a precise knotting system that would allow a lead to string out the inner stitchings once it was healed. She could do them, but she had never been very good at them.
Scars littered Ardeth's back; some old, some she remembered, and some new. This troubled Elizabeth very much, though she did not know why she was so troubled by this. She knew Ardeth got into all sorts of predicaments that would garner injuries like the one she was treating now but it still didn't settle right with her. The gashes were badly healed, textured, and looked like they hurt more than they should have.
Elizabeth supposed then, the new scars troubled her because she had not been there to mend them.
"I'm almost finished," Elizabeth whispered to Ardeth's clinching back. She knew he was in pain but she was doing all she could to help him. Still, it was not enough. When she tied off and trimmed the fiftieth stitch she bandaged him up as best as she could. "Alright, it's done."
Ardeth still sat tense and silent. Elizabeth's hand fell over the hand on her leg, hoping that she could in some way be comforting. After several moments Ardeth turned his palm up and pulled her hand to his chest so she was hugging him from behind. Her head fell to his shoulder and neither of them said a word, Elizabeth held him and Ardeth let himself be held.
Elizabeth's mind quieted in the ravine of their embrace. There were so many scars she was not present to mend for him, so many years she abandoned him and she couldn't help the tears that formed in her eyes.
Ardeth mumbled a prayer so softly Elizabeth almost missed it. She sniffled and held him tighter for another brief moment before separating.
"Come on, let's get some rest." Elizabeth separated herself from his strong grip and ushered him to his side. "I don't want you to lay on your back for too long, you'll pull a stitch. Though that is inevitable, knowing you—but just as good practice—"
"Elizabeth." Ardeth said in a stern but quiet voice. Elizabeth looked into his dark, dark eyes and felt those tears that threatened to fall earlier, burst free.
"I…I'm sorry." Elizabeth buried her head in her hands, wiping her tears. "I've been gone for so long and I just can't help but think of what would have happened had I not been here."
"Why did you come, Elizabeth?" Ardeth asked directly.
"If I hadn't come you might very well be dead, why—why does it matter how I ended up here?" Elizabeth sniffled and blew out a few candles so only one was lit between the two of them.
"It matters to me, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth started to check the bandages on his temple and chest, talking mostly to herself, "These are doing well considering the heat, and your fever has broken."
She wasn't ignoring his question because she didn't want to tell him why she had decided to come back, she ignored his question because she herself didn't really know why. The circumstances fit together and it seemed like the easiest decision in the world when she was in Rome. But now, under his gaze she could not validate an answer without the threat of bursting into tears again.
He truly was the reason, wasn't he? And now, as he laid in front of her, injured and broken Elizabeth could not find the right words.
"You need to rest, Ardeth. We both do. We can talk in the morning." Elizabeth adjusted his pillow and brushed some hair from his face.
Once she blew out the last candle the tent was enveloped with darkness, the deep and howling winds were all that could be heard.
"Elizabeth?" Ardeth voice spoke softly and she paused, nearly one foot out of the tent. "Will you stay?"
Elizabeth was silent for several moments as nothing could have prepared her for that request.
"I will stay. If only to make certain you do not die in the night," she said as she laid herself several feet away in her own pallet. Ardeth offered a gentle chuckle before falling silent.
"Elizabeth?" She heard from him once more.
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"I do not need praise," Elizabeth repeated those shared words from so long ago, "It is my vow."
That night both Elizabeth and Ardeth, despite their injuries, slept better than either of them had slept in years in the company of one another.