Aly lay there in bed, listening to the sounds of the floorboards creaking as Khale once again rose from the bed and padded to the door. It wasn’t his fault that she woke. It wasn’t because he couldn’t stay down. It wasn’t because his movements were too sudden. No, it was the lack of his presence that was keeping her up, the game of not knowing if things were going to be alright.
Lily had come by earlier that evening, and it was a pleasant visit. It had been quite some time since she had seen her friend, and her presence was most welcome. It’s funny how moments like that always had a way of turning sour, whether intentionally or not. This evening was one of those, but she had never expected what walked through the door.
A mere bell after her arrival, and a pearl call later, Khale came storming through the door of their small house, Dane and a figure bundled up in tow. She knew as soon as she saw him, who it was. Jayden, she thought, They finally found him, thank the Twelve. But it wasn’t as joyous as she had wished.
She could tell Khale was agitated, from the timbre of his voice, to the tension in his gait. He didn’t spare but a nod for her and Lily before passing through the door to the small clinic, Dane following close in his wake. With a look to Lily, they followed, and what she saw set her fur on end.
Jayden may have returned, but he was broken and battered. As her and Khale quietly worked to bandage his wounds, she couldn’t help but take stock of the injuries that littered Jayden’s form. The open cuts from being lashed across his chest and back, the bruising around his middle that indicated broken ribs, the shallow breathing that might indicate lung damage…and then the wire around his neck. It dug into his flesh, a means of pacification. The young man had been a Blade and getting him to heel was probably a difficult task. All of this added up to a questionable outcome…and now…
Khale was on edge. He kept his own council, would speak of it when it pleased him, but she could tell. Constantly he checked on his brother, walking back and forth from their room to the clinic. And she worried. Not just for Jayden, but Khale as well. How much loss could one man take before he broke? She was loathe to think on it.
And so, she lay there, eyes watching the subtle motion of the chandelier in their bedchamber, eyes flicking toward the door with every sound. She prayed to the Twelve that Nald’Thal was not ready to take him yet. That they would keep him safe and well.
Whether those prayers were for Khale or Jayden, even she didn’t know.
Lily had come by earlier that evening, and it was a pleasant visit. It had been quite some time since she had seen her friend, and her presence was most welcome. It’s funny how moments like that always had a way of turning sour, whether intentionally or not. This evening was one of those, but she had never expected what walked through the door.
A mere bell after her arrival, and a pearl call later, Khale came storming through the door of their small house, Dane and a figure bundled up in tow. She knew as soon as she saw him, who it was. Jayden, she thought, They finally found him, thank the Twelve. But it wasn’t as joyous as she had wished.
She could tell Khale was agitated, from the timbre of his voice, to the tension in his gait. He didn’t spare but a nod for her and Lily before passing through the door to the small clinic, Dane following close in his wake. With a look to Lily, they followed, and what she saw set her fur on end.
Jayden may have returned, but he was broken and battered. As her and Khale quietly worked to bandage his wounds, she couldn’t help but take stock of the injuries that littered Jayden’s form. The open cuts from being lashed across his chest and back, the bruising around his middle that indicated broken ribs, the shallow breathing that might indicate lung damage…and then the wire around his neck. It dug into his flesh, a means of pacification. The young man had been a Blade and getting him to heel was probably a difficult task. All of this added up to a questionable outcome…and now…
Khale was on edge. He kept his own council, would speak of it when it pleased him, but she could tell. Constantly he checked on his brother, walking back and forth from their room to the clinic. And she worried. Not just for Jayden, but Khale as well. How much loss could one man take before he broke? She was loathe to think on it.
And so, she lay there, eyes watching the subtle motion of the chandelier in their bedchamber, eyes flicking toward the door with every sound. She prayed to the Twelve that Nald’Thal was not ready to take him yet. That they would keep him safe and well.
Whether those prayers were for Khale or Jayden, even she didn’t know.
![[Image: DI0sJH6.png?1]](http://i.imgur.com/DI0sJH6.png?1)
