(no subject)
Chocolate #20. Caution
Rating : PG (for blood)
Timeframe : spring 1254
The soldiers lowered the stretcher, and the black cloaked knight it held, to the floor of the common room.
“Light,” Rune ordered. “Lots of it. And my bag.”
A pale and shaking Ilya scurried out of the room, with Farran and the soldiers tight on her heels, while Rune and Ski knelt beside the barely conscious Tess.
Ski took a knife from her belt and set to work on the tattered remains of Tess’s boot. Rune joined her in peeling the leather from the deep gashes in which it was embedded, exposing the tissue and bone beneath. With the pressure relieved, fresh blood poured from her wounds. Tess gave a soft moan and her head lolled to the side. Rune laid a hand over her knee and closed his eyes for a moment and the bleeding ceased.
The others returned with every lamp they could find. Ilya’s hand flew to her mouth as she passed the bulging knapsack to Rune. She fell to her knees alongside Ski and slipped Tess’s hand from its glove to hold it in her own. Farran laid a hand on the shoulder of the trembling blonde in support.
Rune rummaged through the bag. “Just a few drops,” he said, tossing a bottle of amber liquid Farran’s way. She pulled the cork as Ski and Ilya gently lifted Tess’s head from the floor. She crouched between them and tipped the bottle over her mouth.
Slender fingers, soon slick with blood, probed the wound. Pausing now and then, Rune would furrow his brow as the air around him crackled with a force that set Ski’s hairs on end. With each administration, Tess gave a wince or a cry and her hand curled around Ilya’s.
Long moments passed this way and Ski found, more than once, that she had to remind herself to breathe. “I have never seen you need more than a touch to mend a wound before,” she said at last. “Why-”
Deep blue eyes turned a cold glare her way. He paused only a second before returning his attention to his patient. “This isn’t a simple wound.”
“But can you not…” she grasped in vain at the air.
“Not if you want her to be able to use it.” Energy surged around him and Tess gave a cry as a layer of muscle knit itself together.
“But-” Another cry cut her short.
“Ski,” said Ilya, her eyes never leaving Tess. “He’s doing the best he can.”
Ski laid a hand on Tess’s good leg and held her tongue as Rune continued to mend her. His skin paled and sweat beaded along his brow as layer upon layer of tissue reformed itself until the skin closed over and only a scar remained.
“There,” he said, blinking as if waking as he withdrew his hand
Tess‘s lashes fluttered and she murmured a groggy, “Thank you.”
“Shhh,” he said as Ilya patted her hand. “You rest.” He gave Ski a glance and turned away, as if he’d thought better than to speak what crossed his mind, and headed for the kitchen without another word.
“Get her to her room,” Ski said to the soldiers, who hauled the stretcher into the air between them. Ilya still clutched Tess’s hand as they filed through the door. Farran’s green eyes caught her own in silent question before she followed. “I will be along soon,” she said.
Ski left the room through the opposite side, taking the long way, down the hall, past her door and Rune’s, to the kitchen.
Rune stood over the sink, his back to her. His arms were wet to the elbows and a fine lather replaced the blood that had covered his hands. Ski took a tentative step into the room.
“I am sorry,” she said. He continued to scrub at his fingers, not so much as looking up. She frowned. “It seems to be something I find myself saying to you with some frequency.”
He muttered something at that, but Ski assumed it was not meant to reach her ears. She leaned back against the wall with a sigh. “I did not mean to be short with you. I was angry with myself.” She resigned herself to speaking to his back as not even a glance came her way. “I am the leader. It should be my duty to protect-”
“You did nothing wrong,” he said, still making a point of not looking her way. He thrust his hands into the basin.
“I put her in danger.”
“You had no way of knowing.” There was a gurgling from the sink as the cork released.
“I should have been the one to go.”
Rune snatched a towel from the counter and wound his hands in it, finally turning to face her. “You can’t do everything yourself,” he said. “You won’t make much of a leader if you can’t ever trust the rest of us.”
Ski opened her mouth, uncertain of what to say, but he brushed past her without waiting for a response. She turned to watch him go, wishing there were something she could say. Her only thought was that, however much she hated to admit it, he was right.
Rating : PG (for blood)
Timeframe : spring 1254
The soldiers lowered the stretcher, and the black cloaked knight it held, to the floor of the common room.
“Light,” Rune ordered. “Lots of it. And my bag.”
A pale and shaking Ilya scurried out of the room, with Farran and the soldiers tight on her heels, while Rune and Ski knelt beside the barely conscious Tess.
Ski took a knife from her belt and set to work on the tattered remains of Tess’s boot. Rune joined her in peeling the leather from the deep gashes in which it was embedded, exposing the tissue and bone beneath. With the pressure relieved, fresh blood poured from her wounds. Tess gave a soft moan and her head lolled to the side. Rune laid a hand over her knee and closed his eyes for a moment and the bleeding ceased.
The others returned with every lamp they could find. Ilya’s hand flew to her mouth as she passed the bulging knapsack to Rune. She fell to her knees alongside Ski and slipped Tess’s hand from its glove to hold it in her own. Farran laid a hand on the shoulder of the trembling blonde in support.
Rune rummaged through the bag. “Just a few drops,” he said, tossing a bottle of amber liquid Farran’s way. She pulled the cork as Ski and Ilya gently lifted Tess’s head from the floor. She crouched between them and tipped the bottle over her mouth.
Slender fingers, soon slick with blood, probed the wound. Pausing now and then, Rune would furrow his brow as the air around him crackled with a force that set Ski’s hairs on end. With each administration, Tess gave a wince or a cry and her hand curled around Ilya’s.
Long moments passed this way and Ski found, more than once, that she had to remind herself to breathe. “I have never seen you need more than a touch to mend a wound before,” she said at last. “Why-”
Deep blue eyes turned a cold glare her way. He paused only a second before returning his attention to his patient. “This isn’t a simple wound.”
“But can you not…” she grasped in vain at the air.
“Not if you want her to be able to use it.” Energy surged around him and Tess gave a cry as a layer of muscle knit itself together.
“But-” Another cry cut her short.
“Ski,” said Ilya, her eyes never leaving Tess. “He’s doing the best he can.”
Ski laid a hand on Tess’s good leg and held her tongue as Rune continued to mend her. His skin paled and sweat beaded along his brow as layer upon layer of tissue reformed itself until the skin closed over and only a scar remained.
“There,” he said, blinking as if waking as he withdrew his hand
Tess‘s lashes fluttered and she murmured a groggy, “Thank you.”
“Shhh,” he said as Ilya patted her hand. “You rest.” He gave Ski a glance and turned away, as if he’d thought better than to speak what crossed his mind, and headed for the kitchen without another word.
“Get her to her room,” Ski said to the soldiers, who hauled the stretcher into the air between them. Ilya still clutched Tess’s hand as they filed through the door. Farran’s green eyes caught her own in silent question before she followed. “I will be along soon,” she said.
Ski left the room through the opposite side, taking the long way, down the hall, past her door and Rune’s, to the kitchen.
Rune stood over the sink, his back to her. His arms were wet to the elbows and a fine lather replaced the blood that had covered his hands. Ski took a tentative step into the room.
“I am sorry,” she said. He continued to scrub at his fingers, not so much as looking up. She frowned. “It seems to be something I find myself saying to you with some frequency.”
He muttered something at that, but Ski assumed it was not meant to reach her ears. She leaned back against the wall with a sigh. “I did not mean to be short with you. I was angry with myself.” She resigned herself to speaking to his back as not even a glance came her way. “I am the leader. It should be my duty to protect-”
“You did nothing wrong,” he said, still making a point of not looking her way. He thrust his hands into the basin.
“I put her in danger.”
“You had no way of knowing.” There was a gurgling from the sink as the cork released.
“I should have been the one to go.”
Rune snatched a towel from the counter and wound his hands in it, finally turning to face her. “You can’t do everything yourself,” he said. “You won’t make much of a leader if you can’t ever trust the rest of us.”
Ski opened her mouth, uncertain of what to say, but he brushed past her without waiting for a response. She turned to watch him go, wishing there were something she could say. Her only thought was that, however much she hated to admit it, he was right.