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 | | From: | Robin Banco | | Subject: | [College/Mage in A Minor] - 20 | | Date: | Tue, 28 Dec 2004 06:06:58 GMT |
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 | In the middle of the main street, Lycari and Sim pulled up, waiting for the
dragon to join them.
"Gee up, Figment," said Astarte, sounding tired. "I need willow bark tea,
bandages and a bed."
From his perch on Sim's back, Lycari called, "I can always take another room
if you need mine. We might all be better off if we stay at the Inn tonight.
I'm not a half bad stitcher, if you need one."
"Might come in useful. I'm not sure how keen Robin was on the idea."
As the dragon came up beside Sim, Lycari nudged her ahead to keep pace.
"Living in the taiga has its moments, but we all had to learn how to repair
injuries," he said. "Also, I'm a healer, so I should be able to take care of
most of your injuries without sewing." His smile was small and secretive.
"A warm tea sounds wonderful, but I'll stick to regular stuff. My head
still isn't up to a great deal of cider and I think I've had enough for
tonight." He rubbed at the back of his head and the silver hair fluffed
under his hand.
The Inn was a short trip for the group and a worried Danys stood outside
waiting for them.
Astarte spent a moment trying to figure out how to steer her current steed,
then decided that whatever she'd been drugged with had addled her brain.
"Could we go around the back, please Figment?" she said. "I'd hate to cause
a stir."
Figment obligingly turned towards the stable yard and halted in the middle
of it. Astarte looked down. The ground seemed a terribly long way away,
and the cobbles looked rather unforgiving.
"After you," she said to Robin.
The bard slid down, turned and put his arms up to catch the elf as she
dismounted. Figment shrank down to his usual size, walking out of the
harness, and trotted after the small group as they made their way back
inside. Once through the doorway, Robin steered Astarte towards his room -
the one currently occupied by Lycari - calling over his shoulder for
willow-bark and regular tea as well as hot water for washing. Letting
Astarte sag onto the bed, he pulled her boots off as they waited for the
liquids to be brought up.
"Mage Trey says I should have healing powers," he remarked, "as I'm the
seventh son of a seventh son. I've never seen any sign of them, though. I'd
have given stitching you up a try, but maybe you'd be better off with Lycari
doing it if he's had experience. Anything I've ever sewn hasn't been likely
to say 'ouch'."
The liquids arrived along with clean clothes supplied by the observant maid
and Robin handed the willow-bark to Astarte, then took a clean cloth from
the hot water and used it to take most of the grime off over the elf's
protests.
"Hush," he said, grinning at her. "Be glad I'm not taking those filthy
clothes off and washing the rest of you as well. Though, of course, if you
want me to, I'm sure Figment would chaperone."
Lycari patted Sim's white hide after he threw a leg over her neck and
dismounted. The mare was drawing a few wide-eyed looks from stable boys and
patrons who had come out to see what was going on in the yard.
"We're invincible," Lycari whispered into the mare's neck as she moved close
to him. "Together we could do much good, providing your real owner allows
you to stay with me."
:Decided to stay,: Sim sent. :Want you.:
The shifter pulled away, surprised, and the unicorn butted him with her
velvet nose. :Mage mine.:
"Sim, I can't keep you if your owner shows up," Lycari explained. "That
would be wrong."
:Not wrong,: she told him as she turned to head for the warm barn. :Mage
mine. Help elf now.:
He stood and stared after her for a few moments, then made his way in
through the kitchen door, lost in thought. A few of the serving girls waved
at him, but he didn't see them. At the bar, he stopped and rented the room
that adjoined Robin's; its last tenant having left a few hours earlier.
There a maid found him and handed him a curved needle with a spool of
thread.
"'Tis for the elven lady," the girl said. "But we couldn't find any until
now. Please, sir, would you take them for me?" She looked a little worn
from a hard day's work.
In truth, Lycari didn't feel much better. His head had begun to throb
again and he was feeling very tired. He gave the maid a wan smile and
nodded silently. She bobbed a quick curtsy to him in thanks and hurried off
to her other jobs. The shifter mounted the stairs with a heavy step. He'd
get what things he had from Robin's room and go to bed after sewing up
Astarte's wounds.
After giving a soft knock at the door, he entered to find Robin giving
Astarte a wash up.
"I'm sorry," he said with embarrassment, "I'm interrupting." He backed up
into the doorway and as he about-faced, he added, "Call me if you need me.
I took the room next door."
"Your lot must have very strict standards if washing someone's face is
considered cause for embarrassment," said Robin, surprising Lycari into
turning back. "The lady is too tired to slap me for impertinence, so she's
far too tired for games. Besides, I have another set to play and Figment is
chaperoning." He dropped the filthy rag in the wash bucket again. "I've been
told I give a very good massage for aching muscles if either of you need it.
And you both look like you need it. But first, that cut needs stitching
before our girl bleeds to death. I've never done it, but I'll try if you're
too tired," he added to Lycari.
The shifter looked from Robin to Astarte and then to his feet. "When you've
been brought up in close quarters like I've been, you mind your manners.
And I'm not hurt, I'm tired, but I'm not too tired to help. I just didn't
want to intrude where I didn't belong."
He brought the needle and thread to the bedside, skirted Robin where he sat
on the bed and checked Astarte's scalp wound as she gamely held herself
upright.
"Head wounds bleed like the Hunter's own prey, but they are seldom fatal,"
he informed her. "I can stitch that." He made Robin move over and knelt in
front of the elf. Critically he scrutinized her face. "Black eye that needs
a steak." Careful hands ran down her neck and over the raised bruises. "Ice
here, these'll heal on their own just fine."
His hands traveled down her sides as softly as a lover's would, no impudence
meant, but he felt a heat rise in his skin never-the-less. Happening upon
the sore area on her side, he gave a quiet hiss. "Two broken ribs, one
clean, the other splintered." Astonishingly azure eyes regretfully met
hers. "They're going to hurt for a long time if I don't do something
drastic. The splintered one could pierce your lung."
Astarte's face went white.
"Hurts to breathe, doesn't it?" Concern laced his voice. "Can you lie down
for me?"
Robin helped her raise her legs onto the bed and she painfully lay flat, her
breath coming in short gasps from the exertion. Lycari shooed Robin back
and sat at her side. His expression was solemn and he lay one hand on her
arm.
"We can avoid using the needle at all, if you want," he said quietly. "But
it means that I must enter you to heal you. The lady at the College was
simple, she was dying and no real effort was involved. Unconscious people
are easy, too; they have no will to fight back.
"The pain will make you want to fight me, but I won't allow you to win. If
I do you'll die. You might even take me with you. I'm not too sold on
passing from this world at so young an age," he smiled slightly. "This will
be like a joining and I need your permission."
Astarte stared up at the ceiling, one arm protectively round her ribs.
"I got hit by some drugged darts, so I can't put myself to sleep with
something," she said. "I doubt it's had time to fully work out of my system
yet. The damage was all done while I was out." She turned her head to face
Lycari.
"If you say I might puncture a lung, I believe you, so you have my
permission to fix the ribs. Everything else can be fixed later, from the
outside." Her long fingers closed around his hand and she managed a smile.
"Just no poking around ok? I've carefully fibbed about my age for a long
time, and I don't want the truth to leak out."
"I rather like older women," said Robin deadpan and Figment gave him a
disapproving look.
Astarte craned her neck to look around Lycari to Robin. She studied his
blank face for a moment then winked at Figment.
Lycari got up and walked to the other side of the bed. He knelt on the bed
beside her and studied her for a moment, then spoke. "When I'm through, you
probably won't need anything else fixed. My talent isn't that specific. It
fixes what it finds, unless the repair will do damage to you." His eyes were
warm. "And I'll be the only one who knows what has been repaired, aside from
you, that is."
"This'll feel strange," he told her. "Are you ready?"
Astarte nodded.
"Then you'll have to let go of my hand," he grinned in his best bedside
manner, a hint of cunning amusement glinting in his eyes.
Astarte unlaced her fingers from his. Lycari settled himself carefully so
that she wasn't jogged and dropped his chin to his chest, drawing in a deep
breath. Astarte watched in frank amazement as his eyes closed and his head
raised, his arms lifting over his head. Long silver hair flowed back from
his face and color seemed to drain from the very air around him. His body
became even whiter and there was a brightness to him. This aura was more
silvery around his hands and when he looked down at her, his azure eyes were
a-glow, like blue stars. His appearance was more than human and now she was
on the other end of it, having seen him work on the College maid from the
audience's point of view.
His hands came down to her chest and she felt a 'melding,' as if another
person was sharing her skin. It was an odd feeling and the power involved
to fight away her unbidden defenses was tremendous and as insurmountable as
a tidal wave heading for land. The other worked his way through her body,
knitting bones and muscle with ease, gently pushing her body's annoyance
with this work aside as if she were a very small child. Of pain there was
little, only the slightly unpleasant feeling of things being put to right
without her involvement at all.
She could feel her scalp wound seaming into a scar with new hair beginning
to grow, she could see bruises fade as blood vessels healed, the swelling
around her eye deflated and she could see properly again. Her ribs gave a
tongue-drying creak and the pain in them disappeared. Astarte pulled in a
great gasp of welcome and pain-free air.
Lycari raised his hands from her and the glow around him began to fade.
Blue eyes lost their unearthly metallic gleam and then rolled up into his
head. He toppled over onto his side across her legs, exhaustion finally
claiming him.
Astarte sat up and grabbed the nearest shoulder. She rolled Lycari over
onto his back and straightened his legs out. She then took a moment to feel
her ribs and her throat. Her eye's met Robin's across the room.
"He's good," she said, hand creeping into her hair to find the scalp wound.
"Barely a scar."
She turned back to Lycari and leaned over him to check his breathing. It
was deep and steady.
"Sleeping, I hope." She unbuttoned his shirt a little and laid an ear to
his chest. The healing had obviously exhausted him. She pulled his boots
off and set them at the foot of the bed, then tucked a blanket around him.
"He'll be fine in the morning, and I," she slid of the bed and stretched,
"feel better than I have for years."
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