[b][i]A Romp in the Sack with Lesboshaft and Dervert[/i][/b]

Her mouth was dry as Shor’s bones, to the point moving her tongue around her mouth to moisten it a little bit felt like she was moving it through a mouthful of glass. She went to swallow and her throat clamped shut, sending fire up her throat. Her first request for water was noiseless, then a reedy whisper as she cried out again. Her whole arm was stiff to the shoulder as she moved it and it made her flinch- very painfully- when her hand was grabbed. Her eyes fluttered open a portion, dry flakes of something breaking around her eyelids. Her vision was blurry and her heart turned to ice, “I’m blind.” She whispered, though she meant to scream. “Oh Gods, I’m blind!”
 
She struggled to put her hand to her face and was met with a hazy blob the color of her own skin standing out amongst a hazy background of she couldn’t tell what. “Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods…” Her hand went to her face and her somewhat masculine jawline seemed crooked, bent in. Her tongue found many teeth on the right side of her mouth gone. “Oh…Oh Gods, no…”
 
Her hand reached out, probing and clumsily slapping around her for something or someone. She wanted her mother, she wanted her father, she just wanted to be held again like a little girl. She felt sobs welling up at the back of her throat and almost couldn’t contain herself. Soft whimpers escaped her as she thought herself alone, wondered if this was death.

A furred hand grasped the desperate hand firmly, and another reassuring one soon rested on top of the Nord woman's hand. "It is okay," Do'Karth's voice soothed, his accent giving the vowels a rolling infliction. "You are not alone. Do'Karth has been looking after you, your father has been quite concerned with your recovery. There is a bandage covering your eyes, you still have them." He assured her, reaching for his water skin, which he had filled with the stores present in the triage area. He would offer it when she had calmed down somewhat. "Would you still like some water? Do'Karth can help support you in sitting up if you feel able." He offered.

Her breath rasped in her throat as she took in the voice, the feeling of confusion still settled on her. She looked from left to right and took a rattling sigh in and then out, slowly. "My father?" She asked, trying to remember where she was, "He's in the Reach? No... W-water, please." She jerked her hand away from the furry pair that enveloped her own, feeling a little embarassed straight after and after she drank from the offered waterskin- drained it, almost- asked, "Do'Karth? You know my father, do you?"

"This one does." The khajiit confirmed, moving his freed hand to take the stopper from the water skin and guiding its neck to Solveig's waiting hand. He waited patiently as she finished the water, an impressive feat given her current state, but it meant she simply looked worse than she actually was. It was encouraging, to say the least. "Jorwen and Do'Karth have met on a pair of occasions, this one is pleased to say. An honourable man, a kind soul. It was this one's pleasure to do what he could for you, miss Solveig. We are all in Windhelm, do you remember anything?" he asked.

"I live here?" She asked, looking down at her hand, her eyes slowly focusing to a healthy sharpness. She nodded, "I live here. I joined a company." She finished, somewhat lamely. She found no matter how deeply she dug, she could remember no more. Then the sounds of the wounded. She looked around, her face that of concentration as she struggled to focus her vision in her still throbbing skull. Then she jerked back and winced in pain, struggling not to curl about herself and put knees to chest.

She took a fistful of Do'Karth's robes and used them to help pull herself up to sit against a crate. She looked Do'Karth in his eyes, or hoped she was, as she spoke. "They almost killed me. Is my father alive? My mother? Did they break through the gates?" She didn't know the fates of anyone. For all she knew, all the people inside these walls were the only survivors of a terrible defeat.

The khajiit moved beside Solveig, helping her ease into position. He knelt down beside her, looking towards the Nord woman's face. He felt that people could always tell, even if they could not see. "They did." he confirmed somberly. "Jorwen is quite alright, this one caught sight of him not twenty minutes ago. Do'Karth is afraid he knows nothing about your mother, Jorwin has never mentioned her, but this one can inquire for you as soon as he can. It is pleasing to say that so far, the gates have held, although we have lost the docks and entirely too many people. Do'Karth has done what he can for the wounded, but he must save some strength for the battles to come. This one wishes there were better news, but for now, he trusts knowledge that Solveig's father is safe and well should suffice."

Do'Karth decided to give his painfully throbbing leg some respite and moved into a cross-legged sitting position with some difficulty, grunting softly at the exertion. "This one must apologize, he must smell like burnt fur. You would not believe the morning Do'Karth has had." he chuckled softly, recalling Niernen's unrestrained use of destruction magic. 

She looked the Khajiit up and down after picking and clawing at her head's bandages. She wondered what he was saving his strength for. He had no armor or weapon worth having in a shieldwall, not unless he kept it elswhere. "You fight? Just like that?" She chuckled, "It's as impressive you aren't dead as it is foolish. If you can't get my father to come here and stay with me... would you?"

The prospect of lying with no company but the echoes of pain shooting from her face each word she uttered and from every small twitch her body made was not one she favored. Not to mention having to listen to all the other moans and sobs of the wounded. This wasn't a place she was fixing to stay in for long. The air was thick with grief and loss, she felt weak and drained the longer she thought about it. She was seized by the urge to scream for silence but clamped shut her mouth in shame.

Do'Karth grinned. "Just like this." He said, waving his open palm in a circle over the entirety of his torso. "It is nothing, many khajiit fight without armour. It is hot, cumbersome, and it simply ruins the lines of one's attire. This one defies you to find a set of armour that looks flattering, it simply is not a priority for us. If you do find a khajiit wearing armour, it means they have become very serious about wanting someone or something dead. Or many somethings, as it were. Besides, this one is quick. Foes simply cannot catch Do'Karth." he said with a wink.

His expression softened as he took note of the woman's discomfort and sudden awareness of her surroundings, the pain of countless wounded. He offered her a sympathetic look. "As soon as this one is able, he will find Jorwen and have him see you, if he does not come on his own time. He has come many times while you were asleep, just to see how you were. He wishes for nothing more than to speak with his daughter, and no force in this world could keep him from your side if he heard of your rousing." 

He looked around the room at the many prone figures, the stench of bad wounds and fluids making the air heavy and foul. "These people, they fought like you, and they are all in pain. Do not take their suffering with dispair, sense their warrior spirit. Many of these men and woman would give anything to be on their feet again and ready to fight, it is the Nord way. They will heal, as will you. The question is, Solveig; will you stand and fight again?"

She frowned and swallowed, looking around her at the assortment of varying wounded. "'Course I will. It's the only thing one can do, to fight all the way to the grave." She let the cries of the wounded press in on them once more before speaking again, "Just as much, I still don't want to smell the stench of their warrior spirits leaking out of them. I hope I heal faster."

She looked back to Do'Karth, not so much scorning or disbelieving the good words he had for his father. A few years ago, she would have throttled the Khajiit for insinuating her father was anything but a delusional old arse. Now though, it didn't strike her so. "If he tries to leave my side, I'll chain him to where he stands." She snorted, "The fucker's been traipsing around the breadth of Skyrim for twenty years and only stopping to show his face for a few days." 

Solveig ran her fingers across her jaw, feeling the scar and the crookedness of her jaw. Her tongue probed the emptiness where a few of her teeth had been. She'd never been vane, but she struggled to imagine a picture of her new face that didn't disgust her. "What do I look like, Do'Karth?" She asked, she squinted and frowned, "And no lies."

"Perhaps he was under the impression you were rather untouchable. From what this one understands, you are quite the warrior. Do'Karth suspects seeing you wounded like this put things in perspective." He paused, his face caught in reflection. "We each have a moment or two like that in our lives that change how we see the world." he said at last.

When Solveig asked him how she looked, it was hard not to see the disconfigurement and the damage, but the woman's natural beauty was still apparent just beneath the surface. He smiled reassuringly. "Oh, you look quite mangled, but nothing that Do'Karth has not seen mage healers correct, save perhaps the teeth. Those you will probably need to have replaced, but largely just swelling and laceration, and your jaw just needs to be reset. That... will hurt. But pain is temporary, yes? This one can still see a rather fetching young woman with quite a life of fending off suitors, only unlike the maidens, you will have a few scars worthy of story. This one hopes to hear them all one day." the khajiit said with a soft smile.

Even if she'd never had to fight off men clamoring for her affection, she still felt her face get hot and she looked away much too quickly for her not to feel some embarrasment. "Good." She nodded, clearing her throat and gathering herself, "Good. I'm feeling tired. It wouldn't be too much to ask to leave the waterskin, would it?"

"Not at all. Do'Karth will come back for it later, or find another, but you will always have something to drink as long as this one can make it back. Things are a bit... hectic, as it were. Is there anything this one could do for you before he leaves you to your rest?" he asked. 

"To have you and my father visit often." She said, smiling, "Don't die with your Khajiiti notions of wearing no armor and tempting fate, fool." She chuckled good-naturedly, "You and my old arse of a father."

"Ah, but if Do'Karth dies, he will do so looking rather splended, no?" the khajiit laughed, pleased to see a smile, no matter how pained, cross Solveig's face. "This one promises he will remain as swift as ever, whether it is to avoid swords as tall as he is or to return to your side. Do'Karth will be sure to relay to Jorwen that his 'old arse' better be half as quick as this one in returning here. Rest well, Solveig. Do'Karth will see you soon." He rose to his feet, kicking his staff into his waiting hand. He offered a quick bow to the Nord woman and turned, headed back towards the cold, hard reality of the world waiting just outside the doors.