Anewyne

Lasair calmly dipped the cloth into the cool bowl of water. She kneaded it, swishing the water around and letting it lap at her fingers and hand. Drawing the sopping cloth from the ceramic bowl, she squeezed out the excess, watching the water stream between her fingers. Shifting upon the uncomfortable and crudely made wooden chair, Lasair leaned forward and placed the cool cloth upon the pale and perspiring forehead of a man that looked like an angel. His reaction seemed almost instantaneous. The harsh lines of his face grew softer and eyes desperately squeezed shut opened to the tiniest slits. She smiled. Her long and thin fingers slowly travelled down his cheek and across his smooth, warm skin, stopping at the defined line of his jaw. She imagined that at any other time, those emerald eyes of his would have looked so beautiful, but now they were beginning to dull.

“Good morning, Anewyne.” She said to him softly.

The corners of his mouth moved in a small, subtle way that she knew by now meant he was smiling. He always seemed to smile so softly and she imagined the situation didn’t change that. Still, it made each one she received all the more precious to her.

“How are you feeling?”

He tried to move. His body shifted beneath the thin, grey looking sheet that tried to covered him and give him some sort of protection against the cold. The wooden structure of the bed groaned as he began to push himself up, but Lasair stopped him. Carefully, she placed her hand upon his shoulder, feeling the once strong muscle beneath taunt and rigid as she pushed him back down. A few days ago he’d been able to sit up, but not now. It had spread too far.

“I would be better if you would let me sit up.” He tried once more, but saw he would not win and settled back down upon the bed. “Truth be to you, I am happy you are here. Every time I sleep I fear it is the last time I will see your face.”

He’d become far more bold with his words as the day went on and Lasair still blushed from them. This one even made those little butterflies dance around in her tummy, tickling and teasing her. He always seemed to like her reactions too.
Taking her hand from his shoulder, she slowly ran her cool fingers up the side of his neck and to his cheek once again. He reached up and wrapped his much bigger hand around hers and it disappeared. Still giving her that soft smile, he moved her hand to his lips and softly kissed her fingers, once, twice, three times and then closed his eyes. His grip loosened. She moved his hand back to his side, tucking it under the sheet so he would stay warm, then she brushed away some of his matted blonde hair. Blood still splattered the strands, marring them and cruelly mocking his beauty. When he was better, she’d take the time to wash it from his hair.

“Sleep, Anewyne. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Lasair whispered the words next to his cute, little pointed ear, even though he appeared to have already fallen asleep. His chest rose and fell and occasionally his body would tense, either from pain or something else, she didn’t know. She just wished she could do more for him. They said he slept so much because his body needed the energy to fight, but it seemed to her like the more he slept, the worse he became.

Reluctantly she stood, stretching the sore muscles in her legs and trying to get feeling back in her bottom. She’d been sitting upon the same wooden chair for hours waiting to watch him stir, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. Placing the ceramic bowl on the creaky, wooden ground, she raised her arms above her head and stretched out her entire body. Her shimmering wings expanded to their full length, then practically shivered, dumping a small amount of dust on the ground before resuming their tight position against her back. Turning from the bed, she took a few steps in the tiny room and came to a mirror and wash basin, where she rinsed her hands off. She noticed the candle on the nightstand was getting low; she’d have to go on a mission to find another one. Anewyne didn’t like the dark and Lasair did her best to keep him in the light.

Giving him one last look, Lasair turned and slipped from the room. She’d be back in a few hours. The likelihood of him waking while she was gone seemed slim.
He slept so much lately.

She felt tired, exhausted even. She no longer knew what time of the day it was, let alone what day. Everything just blurred together into a draining mess that left her feeling weak and without energy. And if there was one thing Lasair was always full of, it was energy. Here she didn’t bounce up and down in that carefree way she normally did. Here she didn’t have it in her. Anewyne could make her smile and laugh, but deep down inside, it wasn’t the same. Maybe once he got better she’d smile more.

Juggling a fresh candle and a glass of medicine, Lasair managed to open the door to Anewyne’s room. It creaked ever so slightly as the hinges voiced their opinion on having to move. Once inside, she immediately found herself in darkness. She must have been gone longer than she thought. Hopefully Anewyne still slept.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

Or perhaps not.

“Anewyne, it’s me.”

“Oh, good.” His voice sounded so relieved, it made her stomach clench. How long had he been lying awake, alone and in the dark? She should have come back sooner. “It’s gotten rather dark since you were here.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay...now that you’re here. It’s fine.”

She couldn’t see him, but she could hear him breathing and shifting around on the bed. The sounds seemed too loud to her ears, which strained to give her perspective when her eyes could not. She stopped when her shin hit the edge of the bed, nearly toppling her over. Turning, she reached into the dark until her fingers found the nightstand and began a tapping dance along the top of it. They stopped as they came to rest on the box of matches. Placing the glass on the nightstand, she struck a match, lit the candle and placed it in the candle holder. The room seemed more tolerable. Orange light bathed everything, bringing warmth and comfort back to the dreary space.

“Is that better?” Her voice rose, almost resuming that cheerful and high tone it normally carried.

Then her breath caught in her throat as she turned to him. His face seemed so much paler than it had before, though it could have been her imagination. But the beads of sweat glistening in the light were not. Quickly she grabbed the cloth from his pillow and dunked it into the bowl at her feet. Ringing out the excess, she placed it on his hot forehead, trying to bring the fever down, even though it seemed a feeble attempt.

“That... is much better.” He said softly.

They stayed in silence for a while. Every time the cloth became warm, she’d soak more of the cool water into the fabric. After a time it seemed to have some effect. He relaxed more.

Slowly Lasair rose from the chair and grabbed the glass from the nightstand, feeling her legs protest with the effort. The green liquid inside was now room temperature, though she doubted Anewyne would notice anyway. Besides as long as he drank it, it didn’t matter. As long as he drank it he’d get better.

“I brought you some more medicine.”

He made a face. “I dislike taking that stuff. It tastes awful.”

She smiled and chuckled softly, which made him smile in return. They played this game each time she tried to give him his medicine. She’d never seen a grown man protest so much about taking something that would help him, well, except for Tristran. But he had always been a big baby.

“You have to take it to keep your strength up.”

“All right...but only cause it’s from you.”

She’d been hand making his medicine from the beginning. He refused to take anything from anyone else. It was kind of cute and endearing.

This time when Anewyne tried to sit up, she let him. He only managed to prop himself on his elbows though. Moving to the edge of his bed, Lasair placed one hand on the back of his head and brought the rim of the glass to his lips with the other. He drank as she tilted the glass back, quickly draining the cup of its contents until nothing remained. She removed the glass and found herself staring at him, inches away from his face. He didn’t look away. Instead, he reached up and wrapped one arm around her slender frame, crushing her against him. She knew she should tell him to take it east, to not strain himself, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. It felt too good. She buried her face against his neck, breathing in the smell of him. The glass fell from her hand and thudded against the floor. He felt so warm. When his body began to quiver with the effort, she slowly pulled away and let him lean back against the bed.

Kissing his forehead, Lasair sat back in her chair. Sometime later, she fell asleep.