“Tristain?”

I called out in response from the chair in the lounging room. It was big, plush...soft and had completely engulfed me whenever I sat in it. It was my favourite place to sit. I felt like I was being held, comforted. I did not wish to go as far as to say loved, but it most definitely evoked strong feelings of coziness within me.

Normally the man would respond as he clattered loudly through the door. This did not happen which alarmed me. I carefully picked up the knitting I had been working on and placed it on the table next to me with a sigh. Now that I had put it down I’d need Tristain to place it in my hands again. I could knit whilst blind, the actions were rythmic, nothing more than a pattern but every time I moved I constantly feared I had unknowingly dropped a stitch, or worse...picked one up.

I shifted carefully off the chair and placed my hand atop it as I used it as a guide. The back of the chair faced the doorway. “Tristain?” I asked again.

“Go..od. You're here. I.. Need your help.” His voice was off. Different from normal. It was rough at the best of times, but this sounded worse, strained. And he used a contraction, which was unusual normally he was so very precise and formal when he spoke. “I’m.. Going to go lay down. Need you to.. Gh.. To get a neighbor to.. Bring a doctor.” I heard an unusual sound - a scraping one, and I realized he had slumped against one of the walls and his armor had rubbed against the wood.

I carefully shuffled toward the sound of him. I could hear his ragged breathing, I knew something was wrong. I felt his presence, he was close...he was… on the floor? I furrowed my brow in confusion as I knelt down to his level and reached out toward him. My hand collided with his nose and mouth. “Doctor? Are you ill?” My hand glided over his sweaty face and down to his shoulder. “Take your armour off so you can move toward the bedroom. I can try to find the neighbour.” He let out a weak chuckle.

“N.. Not ill. Can't move well enough to take it off. Ju..st need to lay down.” He tried to stand up, and made it partway - crashing into me. Something was wrong with him, very wrong. Tristain was normally extremely considerate of me, and when he accidentally ran into me he would always catch me to help me stay stable. Now - now he was the one that came off worse, hitting the wall hard. I heard a groan of pain, a hiss that stretched between teeth.

I struggled to push him off of me. “You’re heavy…” my hand landed on a clasp and I instictively started to undo the buckle. “Here..” I undid it and felt the armour loosen. “Guide my hands to where I need to undo the buckles.” My voice was low, soft. Careful. I wasn’t sure what was going on. I couldn’t see the pain he was in but I could hear it, feel it. The way his ragged breath touched my skin, the way his body shook. There was something seriously wrong and I was doing my best not to panic. He told me to focus on my breathing when I felt overwhelmed… and I was doing just that.

Just breathe.

Breathe and focus on first removing his armour...then…getting him to bed. One hand came up and clasped mine and he helped my figure out where the buckles were. Until he stopped, his arm crooked back but not back all the way. “The..re are a few… On my back. Be careful, please. Arrow. I was.. Stupid.” He pulled himself upright, off of me, and I heard him breathe in sharply.

I shuffled behind him, ignoring the wet feeling upon my hands, I assumed it was sweat. He always came back dripping in it, and I could smell it. My fingers started at his shoulders and carefully traced down the length of his armour. It was cool to the touch with rough edges. I could feel cuts and knicks in the metal and told myself I’d do my best to find him some more protection to thank him for everything he had done for me. I found a buckle on either side of the armour, a little under his armpits. It took a little bit of effort but I managed to pull it off.

Wait…

“Arrow?” I asked, panic finally setting in. Tristain shuffled slightly, and I felt one hand wrap around one of mine for a moment, squeezing it tightly.

“Breathe. Deep. Breaths. I need..you here with me now, Aynur.” He took his hand away, and I heard the him lean against the wall. “Breathe. Please, I need you here.”

“I-I’m here…” I shuffled forward with shaky hands. I wished I hadn't come to the realization that he was greviously wounded. I tried to prop him up against me and he graciously accepted. Leaning forward I could feel his hair tickle the skin on my cheek.