The rest of the trip went fairly uneventfully. Obi regaled her with his tales of derring-do that she suspected were highly edited. Mitsuhide rode back occasionally to join them and interject with stories of his own. The most exciting part of the ride was when Shirayuki's stomach finally won out and she did, indeed, puke over the side of the horse. Luckily, Obi had felt her tense and pitch forward as she desperately tried to avoid their feet. He reined his mount to a standstill as he helped her ease forward, keeping her from toppling over the side of their horse and into the puddle of sick. When the retching finally stopped, she sat back up, embarrassed.

"Sorry," she mumbled, ashamed that he'd had to see her like that.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Miss," he said, passing her a sprig of peppermint he had pulled from her medicine pack. "I've heard from a very wise herbalist that this can help some of the nausea. It works better if the patient lets the doctor know that they aren't feeling well," he said pointedly. Chastised, she took the sprig and chewed it carefully, the flavor overriding the acid in her mouth and soothing her stomach. Once he was satisfied there would be no repeat vomiting, he nudged his mount and the group continued on.

At their noontime break, she declined her share of the rations, deciding it was safest just to sip water for now. Her guard-turned-physician agreed.

"A few more hours and we'll be at the castle, Miss. I'd like to check your arm and see how it's holding up." His hands hovered over the sling, waiting for permission. She nodded slightly and he eased her arm gently out, resting it on her lap.

The red on the bandages had darkened and did not seem to be fresh. With as much care as possible, he unwrapped the bandages around the splint, watching her closely and ready to stop if it became too much. With the splint removed, he deftly cut the edge of the bandage around her wound, allowing it to loosen and be eased off of her arm. To his relief, there was no new bleeding. With her petite arm supported by the olive skin of his forearm, he gently cleaned the entry and exit wounds. Her every flinch stung him, a reminder that she was only hurt because of his failure. Once cleaned, he applied another poultice and began the slow task of bandaging and re-splinting her arm. She breathed deeply through the pain, trying her best to not show how much it hurt. By the time his fingers were tying off the last bandage, she could see the tense set of his shoulders. He had barely spoken in the entire time it had taken to rebandage her. Just small indications to move this way or that.

"I'm ok, Obi. This wasn't your fault," she says quietly, soothingly. The ache to flee into the trees filled his muscles again and he willed himself to stillness. She was wrong. The arrow should have hit him. He should be the one wounded, not her. Not her skilled hands and her desire to fix the world. She had infinitely more good to put into the world. He was… He was a tool to be used. A dagger to hit a target. A thief in the night, stealing secrets from those that would do harm to his Master. There was really no comparison in his mind.

"Miss? Do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Next time, I take the arrow. I'm your guard. I follow you, Miss. To the ends of the world, if need be. No more playing the hero or you'll put me out of a job." One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. It didn't reach his eyes and he looked down at her arm, now tucked neatly into her sling. Before she could respond, he stood, lightly touching her shoulder before walking into the woods, needing a moment alone before he could face her again.

The woods welcomed him like usual, the soft sigh of the leaves doing their best to soothe his aching heart. A dozen steps forward was all he allowed himself, not daring to move too far from the group. There wasn't enough time for him to swing into their embrace like he had the night before. He leaned his forehead against a tree trunk, trying his best to ground himself and shut down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Every time he tried to shut the box that held his guilt and shame, a glance at her ripped it back open. Her understanding words did little to help, it just served to remind him of his failings.

When he had spent as long amongst the trees as he dared, he turned, walking back to where he had left his Miss. She was no longer sitting against a tree, and his gaze drifted among his companions until he saw her, over by the horses. Her back was turned to him as she gently stroked her gelding's neck. As if sensing him, she looked over her shoulder. His heart clenched as he started towards her. She was still the only person who always knew where he was. She was the only one who always saw him. Drawing level to her, he reached out, stroking the gelding's shoulder. The gelding continued grazing, unbothered. Shirayuki dropped her hand and it fell to her side, clenched in a small fist.

"You can't do that," she said tensely.

"Pet the horse, Miss? Jealous, are we?"

"No," she said, turning towards him. "You can't sacrifice yourself for me. You say you're my guard, but you're important to me. I couldn't stand knowing that you were hurt because of me. Don't make me have to go through that again."

She turned to face him, the fire in her green eyes arresting him and the fear and anger that shined out of them made his breath catch in his throat. For a moment he was caught up in her gaze, pinned as surely as if by a dagger.

She knew he was always the first one to fling himself into danger. It was never a matter of if Obi would wind up in a brawl, it was always when. He'd happily beat everyone senseless and then come back, rarely any worse for wear. But at some point, tending to his cuts, mending him bit by bit had opened a wound in her that no number of herbs and poultices could heal.

"Miss, I –"

Shirayuki angled her body away from him, hurt still simmering in her veins.

"I think I'll ride with Mitsuhide for a bit. Give you a break."

Her voice brooked no argument, and Obi pulled back as if he'd been slapped. Her back was straight as she walked away from him and over to the knight, but tears shimmered in her eyes. Mitsuhide, taking in the tenseness between the two, wisely said nothing and helped her mount his horse. The strain between the two easiest going members of their party settled over the rest of the group, and the rest of the ride to Tanbarun passed in an uneasy silence.