Fic: Not a Romance (pt 7)
Oh wow, sorry, I left this at a mini-cliffhanger, didn't I? I've been writing! I just forgot to post. =P So here's the next part, which is another mini-cliff, but an entirely predictable one all the same. Slowest story build ever!
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Ren swallowed, leaning forward when Pai Su nodded briefly to him. His throat was dry and it made the Common words in his mouth rougher than they should be. “Prince Anduin?” he said softly. “Your highness, can you hear me?”
Part of him - a large part, because dear gods he would rather his guess and all the complications it brought with it were wrong - hoped that the words would elicit no response. That the man would not reply, either because he couldn’t or because the words were naught but nonsense to him. For a long few moments it seemed the Celestials heard his prayer and took mercy on him, the only sound the injured man’s breaths, but then the human’s eyelids twitched, his breath hitching.
Blue eyes, as clear as a spring day sky, an utterly unknown color to all of the myriad races that inhabited Pandaria where eyes range from a dark brown that was nearly black to shades of green or gold. The color was all the more striking set within the dark bruises on the man’s face, bright and shocking despite the bloodshot web that marred one of them.
The color, though, was only a thin sliver around pupils blown large, which only responded sluggishly, in fits and starts, as the man tried in vain to focus. Those impossibly blue eyes roved blindly, slipping over and past them, the corners of the man’s mouth tightening in wordless pain.
Ren grimaced, running the lightest of claws over the hair at the man’s temples. “Your highness?”
Another flicker, his words pulling the man’s eyes open as though on reflex, and Ren bit back a groan of defeat. “Your highness, I don’t know if you remember me…”
“…Ren…”
His name, in the flattened vowels of a Stormwind accent, froze Ren in his tracks, his heart giving a painful thump of surprise. Three years since he had last stepped foot in Stormwind, surely the cub wouldn’t have remembered one bodyguard out of countless when he had only served for one day. The injured man coughed, the sound harsh and tearing, muscles across his chest tightening as though he would lift a hand made heavy in splints and bandages, the limb immobile and useless.
Pai Su slipped a hand beneath his neck, lifting and turning him slightly to help ease the cough. The man subsided, his breath a rough rasp through his throat. “Lina,” he murmured, his eyes sliding shut. “Tell her… sorry…”
Another coughing spasm, thick and wet, and there was blood on the man’s lips. Ren, his ears flat, shoved himself backwards before Pai Su had time to bark at him to move, his own heart pounding as he watched healer and mistweaver spring into action in smooth coordination. Ling’s hands skimmed through the air, fingers reaching and hooking, pressing her own chi into the injured man as he continued to cough. Her brows were drawn down, eyes held tight and ears flat, her mouth pressed thin in concentration. Pai Su held the man’s head, tipping him to help clear the fluids from his throat, and bent to press her ear to his chest, her fingers moving lightly over his torso as she tested bone structure.
Several more coughs left the man breathing easier but erased any hope of lucidity; he sagged back against the furs limply, body exhausted by the brief convulsions. Pai Su dipped a cloth in the dregs of the medicine she had dosed him with, wiping his face and mouth clean. “Whole,” she said, though she was frowning, the tip of her long tail rippling fitfully against her ankles. “The bones are whole, but the inside is raw.”
Ling made a few more sweeping paths over the human’s body, the rush of her chi tingling heavily through the air, before letting her hands drop. “We are not,” she said firmly, “doing that again.”
“No,” Feng agreed. “He needs rest, and the mends to his ribs are too new to be shaken like that.” The older male looked at Ren, his ears held politely up but straining at the tips where they wanted to spread wide in surprise. “He knew you.”
“I…” At a loss for words, Ren scrubbed his palms over his face, absently running his fingers along the braided plait of his hair. “I… don’t know. I can’t imagine that he would, but…”
“He knew your name,” Pai Su pointed out. “I don’t know the rest of what he said, but that was definitely your name.” She tucked the furs around her patient, gently wiping his lax face again and smoothing the short strands of his hair back. “What you were saying, ’Your highness’,” she said, the human words awkward in her mouth, her nose wrinkling. “Is that his name, then?”
Ren choked back a humorless laugh, absently pulling his braid over his shoulder to worry at the end of it with his claws. “No,” he corrected. “It’s a polite form of address. Very polite.” He exhaled, shoulders slumping, aware of their eyes on him and unable to look away from the still, battered form on the furs.
“Ancestors have mercy,” he sighed, defeated. “No… his name is Anduin Llane Wrynn. He is the son of their Emperor, the sole cub of the late Empress, and heir to the throne.”
Crossposted from Dreamwidth. ::
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* * * * *
Ren swallowed, leaning forward when Pai Su nodded briefly to him. His throat was dry and it made the Common words in his mouth rougher than they should be. “Prince Anduin?” he said softly. “Your highness, can you hear me?”
Part of him - a large part, because dear gods he would rather his guess and all the complications it brought with it were wrong - hoped that the words would elicit no response. That the man would not reply, either because he couldn’t or because the words were naught but nonsense to him. For a long few moments it seemed the Celestials heard his prayer and took mercy on him, the only sound the injured man’s breaths, but then the human’s eyelids twitched, his breath hitching.
Blue eyes, as clear as a spring day sky, an utterly unknown color to all of the myriad races that inhabited Pandaria where eyes range from a dark brown that was nearly black to shades of green or gold. The color was all the more striking set within the dark bruises on the man’s face, bright and shocking despite the bloodshot web that marred one of them.
The color, though, was only a thin sliver around pupils blown large, which only responded sluggishly, in fits and starts, as the man tried in vain to focus. Those impossibly blue eyes roved blindly, slipping over and past them, the corners of the man’s mouth tightening in wordless pain.
Ren grimaced, running the lightest of claws over the hair at the man’s temples. “Your highness?”
Another flicker, his words pulling the man’s eyes open as though on reflex, and Ren bit back a groan of defeat. “Your highness, I don’t know if you remember me…”
“…Ren…”
His name, in the flattened vowels of a Stormwind accent, froze Ren in his tracks, his heart giving a painful thump of surprise. Three years since he had last stepped foot in Stormwind, surely the cub wouldn’t have remembered one bodyguard out of countless when he had only served for one day. The injured man coughed, the sound harsh and tearing, muscles across his chest tightening as though he would lift a hand made heavy in splints and bandages, the limb immobile and useless.
Pai Su slipped a hand beneath his neck, lifting and turning him slightly to help ease the cough. The man subsided, his breath a rough rasp through his throat. “Lina,” he murmured, his eyes sliding shut. “Tell her… sorry…”
Another coughing spasm, thick and wet, and there was blood on the man’s lips. Ren, his ears flat, shoved himself backwards before Pai Su had time to bark at him to move, his own heart pounding as he watched healer and mistweaver spring into action in smooth coordination. Ling’s hands skimmed through the air, fingers reaching and hooking, pressing her own chi into the injured man as he continued to cough. Her brows were drawn down, eyes held tight and ears flat, her mouth pressed thin in concentration. Pai Su held the man’s head, tipping him to help clear the fluids from his throat, and bent to press her ear to his chest, her fingers moving lightly over his torso as she tested bone structure.
Several more coughs left the man breathing easier but erased any hope of lucidity; he sagged back against the furs limply, body exhausted by the brief convulsions. Pai Su dipped a cloth in the dregs of the medicine she had dosed him with, wiping his face and mouth clean. “Whole,” she said, though she was frowning, the tip of her long tail rippling fitfully against her ankles. “The bones are whole, but the inside is raw.”
Ling made a few more sweeping paths over the human’s body, the rush of her chi tingling heavily through the air, before letting her hands drop. “We are not,” she said firmly, “doing that again.”
“No,” Feng agreed. “He needs rest, and the mends to his ribs are too new to be shaken like that.” The older male looked at Ren, his ears held politely up but straining at the tips where they wanted to spread wide in surprise. “He knew you.”
“I…” At a loss for words, Ren scrubbed his palms over his face, absently running his fingers along the braided plait of his hair. “I… don’t know. I can’t imagine that he would, but…”
“He knew your name,” Pai Su pointed out. “I don’t know the rest of what he said, but that was definitely your name.” She tucked the furs around her patient, gently wiping his lax face again and smoothing the short strands of his hair back. “What you were saying, ’Your highness’,” she said, the human words awkward in her mouth, her nose wrinkling. “Is that his name, then?”
Ren choked back a humorless laugh, absently pulling his braid over his shoulder to worry at the end of it with his claws. “No,” he corrected. “It’s a polite form of address. Very polite.” He exhaled, shoulders slumping, aware of their eyes on him and unable to look away from the still, battered form on the furs.
“Ancestors have mercy,” he sighed, defeated. “No… his name is Anduin Llane Wrynn. He is the son of their Emperor, the sole cub of the late Empress, and heir to the throne.”
Crossposted from Dreamwidth. ::
bunnies - Feed a bunny